MacMillan Wharf

MacMillan Wharf: Chapter Thirteen

MacMillan Wharf: Chapter Thirteen

by Richard Gifford

By 8:45 a.m., Chief Souza had been at his desk for two hours. He was pouring over the preliminary autopsy report that was faxed from the Barnstable County Coroner’s office. Linda Hanscomb had not died from drowning, but from strangulation, as he had suspected. She was probably killed at the Whale Center office, taken to a boat, then dumped at sea. That’s a lot of transportation, the chief thought. With any luck, there would be opportunities for evidence as well as witnesses.

The phone on his desk rang. He could see that it was an internal call from the front desk. “Yeah, Carla” he answered.

“Hi, Chief. Mark Ryder is here. He said he’ll be doing the press conference with you.”

“Right. Send him in. How much time do we have before the press conference?”

“About five minutes.”

“OK, Carla, thanks.”

He hung up the phone as Mark Ryder, Cape and Islands District Attorney, knocked on the door.

“Morning, Chief,” he said cheerfully as he let himself into the office.

“Hi, Mark, come on in.” He motioned to a wooden chair in front of his desk.

The sprightly DA dropped his briefcase on the floor and sat. The two had worked together previously on a number of cases over the years ranging from an ecstasy distribution ring in Provincetown’s dance clubs to homicides.

The chief’s eyes narrowed as he read the report, then his jaw dropped as he looked up to a stone faced Mark Ryder. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What the hell is going on here?” “So Mark, what’s the latest?”

“I was about to ask you the same. Any suspects yet?”

“There’s a girlfriend with a prior murder conviction and an ex-husband who seems like he’s hiding something. I’m watching both of them to see if they do anything out of the ordinary.”

“Well, you might want to take a look at this” the DA said retrieving a piece of paper from his briefcase. “This is the blood work report on Linda Hanscomb. I think you’ll find this interesting.”

The chief’s eyes narrowed as he read the report, then his jaw dropped as he looked up to a stone faced Mark Ryder. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What the hell is going on here?”

“I don’t know any more than you do, Chief. I think we should sit on this information for now. We don’t need to show all of our cards, especially to the press.”

“I agree. This is enough of a media circus already. Which reminds me, how do you want to do the press conference?”

“It’s your show, Chief. Tell ‘em what you want them to know and I’ll back you up.”

“OK. Let’s get going. They’re set up outside.”

“Yes, I saw them on the way in.”

Chief Souza donned his cap and straightened his tie in the small mirror on his wall. As the two stepped outside, they were greeted by a flock of reporters from the Boston and Cape Cod press. Chief Souza had given many press conferences during his tenure and had learned the importance of appearing confident and in control in front of the media. He stepped up to the podium which sprouted a ridiculous crop of over a dozen microphones. Once the reporters quieted down, he spoke:

“Thank you all for coming. I’m Chief Souza of the Provincetown Police Department and this is District Attorney Mark Ryder. Yesterday afternoon at approximately 3:30 pm, the whale watch boat Explorer spotted and retrieved the body of thirty-nine year old Dr. Linda Hanscomb approximately two miles off Race Point. Dr. Hanscomb was a world renowned researcher at the Whale Center, and long time Provincetown resident. She was last seen Thursday night. This department, in cooperation with the Cape and Islands District Attorney’s office, has launched an investigation and we are seeking the public’s help in this case. If anyone has information about this crime, please call the Provincetown Police Department or the District Attorney’s office. I’ll now take any questions you might have.”

The group of reporters broke into chaotic chatter, shouting questions.

“One at a time,” Chief Souza said holding up his hands. “Yes?” He pointed to a buxom bleach blonde in a tailored miniskirt.

“Thanks, Chief. Tina Johnson, Eyewitness 3 news. Do you have any suspects yet in this case?”

“No, we do not. That’s why we’re asking for the public’s cooperation. This is a small town, and we’re hoping that somebody either saw or heard something Thursday night that might help us. Yes?” he pointed at another reporter.

“Jim Taylor, Channel 12. How was she killed?”

“The initial autopsy report indicates strangulation. We’re still waiting for further reports later today that might give us more information. Yes?”

“Ravi Sharma, Boston Post. How long had her body been in the water?”

“Again, we don’t have all of the information yet, but probably about twelve hours. OK, that’s it for now. Thank you all. We’ll have another press conference at 5:00 p.m.”

“Chief! Chief! Wait a minute! One more question!” shrieked Betsy Gilmore. Before he could refuse, she blurted out “Is there any truth to the rumor that Linda Hanscomb was pregnant?”

The chief looked stunned. He tried to retain his composure as he leaned into the podium. “As I said, we don’t have the full autopsy report yet, so we don’t know all of Dr. Hanscomb’s medical history. I will caution you about rumors and speculation, however. That will not help us solve this murder. Thank you.”

As the chief stepped away from the podium, the reporters shouted questions at him. “Is it true? Was she pregnant? Who’s the father? I thought she was gay? Chief Souza! Chief Souza!”

Chief Souza stormed down the hall to his office with Mark Ryder five steps behind him. “Close the door,” he growled as he sat down in his chair.

“What the hell was that Mark? How did a reporter for the local paper have this report before I did? There’s got to be a leak in your office.”

“I’m really sorry, Chief. I have no idea how that got out.” He paused for a moment while he bit his lip.  “Look on the bright side, everyone’s going to be paying attention to this case, so, hopefully, you’ll get more leads.”

“Great. Now this will be a three ring circus with me in the middle. I don’t need this.”
Chief Souza picked up the preliminary autopsy report and read aloud the section that had caught him by surprise before the press conference.

“Blood tests indicate that the deceased was pregnant. Further investigation suggests that she was carrying a fetus that had been gestating for six to eight weeks.” He put the paper down and looked across the table to the DA.

“Tell me, Mark, who would be most likely to kill her, her girlfriend, or the father of the baby?”

“First, you need to figure out who the father is.”

“This just got a lot more complicated,” the Chief said with a sigh.

The phone on his desk rang again, another internal call.

“Yeah.”

“Hi, Chief. A reporter from Inside Edition is on the line. Do you want to talk to him?”

“Tell him the next press conference is at five. I have a lot of work to do, so tell that to any other reporters who call, OK?”

“Right Chief.”

“Thanks, Carla” he said while hanging up.

“I need to talk to Mary Ellen Johnson and Bruce Waters. Care to join me?”

“May you live in interesting times,” said Mark. That’s the ancient Chinese curse, isn’t it?”

“Something like that. Come on, let’s go.” The chief stood and put on his hat. As he did, the phone rang again.

“Yeah?”

“Chief, we just got a report that a neighbor heard gunshots from Mary Ellen Johnson’s place. We have officers on the way there now.”

“OK, I’m on my way. Thanks, Carla.

Hanging up the phone hurriedly he shouted “Let’s go!”

“What’s going on?”

“Interesting times. I’ll explain it on the way.”

Read it from the beginning:
Table of Contents