Chapter 3: 

            Jamie, Griswold, and Bill spent the next two and a half hours driving across Ohio. They watched the city of Cincinnati slowly give way to fields of recently-planted corn and soybeans and later to more forested areas. Most of the time was spent listening to music Griswold had on hand, including an assortment on the Traveling Music Mixtape she had prepared, which included everything from Led Zeppelin's Ramble On to R.E.M’s Stand. For the most part, the drive was quiet except for Jamie occasionally asking Griswold for help with directions. This resulted in a highlight of the trip being when Jamie needed help finding Tennyson Road and Griswold insisted that she find the first sign displaying that name and then go “half a league, half a league, half a league onward,” afterwards grinning maniacally.

           They arrived in Portsmouth in the early evening. It was a small town along the Ohio River with brick buildings and church steeples to the west and more industrial areas off to the east. To the south, was a steel suspension bridge that led into the hills of Kentucky. Upon arriving, they had a brief dinner from the Scioto Ribber, a local barbeque place, in their car before checking into the Four Keys Motel.

            After Jamie and Griswold snuck Bill in and got everything set up in their room, Bill, exhausted from the last few days, immediately got in a sleeping bag he brought up from the car. When he had fallen asleep, Jamie ushered Griswold to the bathroom and closed the door.

            “Have you figured anything out about the case yet?”

            “Nothing too big. All that’s really stuck out is Bill’s description of the body and the necklace.”

            “What about them?”

            “To begin, Rebecca was suffocated and her necklace was covered in mud. That would mean she had the necklace on while she was being murdered. Assuming that Rebecca was suffocated so someone could steal her necklace, why are there any marks on her neck at all? Moreover, why are they on the back of her neck if she was face down in the mud?”

            “Maybe the culprit tried to rip the necklace off Rebecca’s neck from the front, found it wasn’t working, and suffocated her instead?”

            “I was considering that, but there’s another problem. Bill stated that the cut on her neck was pretty deep. Quite frankly, I don’t know of any human strong enough to leave a deep cut in someone’s flesh just by yanking on a chain.”

            “Good point….”

            “In any case, that’s a problem for tomorrow. We have an early day ahead of us, so I suggest that we get some sleep.”

            With that, Jamie and Griswold got ready for bed, although Griswold stayed up talking on her phone for a while. Apparently, she was supposed to meet up with Margaret that night, but had forgotten to tell her that work had come up.

*****

             Griswold, Jamie and Bill woke up around 6:30 in the morning, got some breakfast, and ate it in their room. Although they all could have benefitted from a few more hours of sleep, Griswold insisted that they get to the crime scene before the cops were likely to show up.

              Leaving the motel and getting in the car, the three drove south into Portsmouth proper under an overcast sky, eventually turning west and leaving the town altogether. After driving over a highway that crossed the Scioto River, they drove through a small inhabited area before coming into the Shawnee State Forest. Driving along the paths that led through the park brought them past a number of log cabins and public restrooms built along the shores of two streams and a small lake. They later crossed a wooden bridge that led into a more densely forested area of the park. After driving for a few minutes on a road that was built into a hillside, they came to an area known as Slate Hollow and, eventually, found the scene of the crime.

               Parking just off the road above the shores of Turkey Creek Lake, Jamie and Griswold surveyed the area. About fifty feet back from the lake was a ledge on which the road was built. From there, the ground gently sloped down to the barren, muddy shores, forming an area that was semicircular and about a hundred feet wide. The small cliffs to either side of the area, which stopped a few feet before the shoreline, made it seem like a chunk of earth had been removed, leaving only a scattering of trees and many bushes behind. Among the few random flat stones at the water’s edge were four wooden stakes that were stuck in the mud and joined by strands of caution tape. 

               Griswold, wearing a black peacoat and a fedora, got out of the car and smiled. “Perfect. There appears to be no police. Jamie?”

              “Yeah?” she asked.

              “Could you please patrol the area and be on the lookout for anyone who’s hiding or driving up while I investigate the scene?” Griswold asked.

              “On it,” Jamie replied as she grabbed a pair of binoculars and got out of the car. “Wanna help, Bill?”

              “Sure,” he replied.

              With that, Griswold went down to the stakes at the shore while Jamie and Bill kept lookout. They looked in every probable hiding place and found no one. By this point, Griswold had spent ten minutes examining the scene and was still taking down notes. Jamie and Bill then began watching the roads as Griswold continued. It was not until Griswold finished up that Jamie, looking through the binoculars, saw a cop car coming their way. Jamie told Bill to run back to their own car while she ran towards Griswold, one hand still holding the binoculars that hung from her neck.

             “Cops are coming. We gotta go,” she said as she ran past Griswold.

             “Right behind you.” Griswold replied.

             They ran like hell and, although Griswold appeared to struggle while running, they made it back to the car and took off immediately. As they drove, Griswold, breathing heavily, frantically searched the glove box and pulled out an inhaler. After taking a couple of puffs, she said, “Sorry...if I took too long...getting to the car. I warned you...that I’m not capable...of great physical exertion.”

             “No worries,” Jamie replied. “We left before the cops arrived, didn’t we?”

             “True. I guess they...came to claim the stakes.”

             “Maybe.”

             “Did you find anything?” asked Bill.

              “Yes. But can I tell you...in a few minutes?” Griswold replied.

              “Sure,” said Bill.

              After Griswold caught her breath, she said, “There were two things that greatly interested me. First of all, there doesn’t appear to be any signs of a struggle in the mud, except from where Rebecca was moving her hands and forearms, trying ineffectually to lift herself up. From what I can tell, there appears to be only the print of Rebecca’s body and the print of her necklace inside the area marked by the stakes and nothing else. This brings me to the second point: the print of the necklace’s jewel. The jewel’s print is in the same location as the print of Rebecca’s neck. Bill mentioned on the ride over that the necklace isn’t a choker, so it doesn’t physically make sense that she was pushed into the mud due to said print’s location. Not to mention the fact that the jewel’s print is almost an inch and a half deep. That’s way too deep to be the work of natural forces alone.”

            “That’s good and all,” interrupted Bill, “but how is this going to prove me innocent?”

            “Don’t worry,” replied Griswold. “These facts are giving me an idea of what might have happened on the night Rebecca was murdered. I’m not a hundred percent certain yet, but I do believe that we’re on the right track.”

            “If you say so,” sighed Bill.

            “Where to next?” Jamie asked.

            “Well,” replied Griswold, “I need some eye-witness accounts. Let’s go visit some of the people Bill was with on the night of the murder.”

            “Will do. Where can I find your friends, Bill?” Jamie asked as they drove back through the forest.

*****

            By 12:30 P.M., they had interviewed three of Bill’s friends and hadn’t gotten anywhere. The first two couldn’t give them much since they were too busy talking to each other at the time and the third was too drunk to remember anything. After grabbing a late lunch, they headed to the far west side of Portsmouth to see if they could get any info out of one of Bill’s two remaining friends.

            They drove through Boneyfiddle, a historic district with many old apartment buildings, shops, and restaurants built of brick or gray stone, then turned north and arrived in a neighborhood on the outskirts of town. Large trees cast shadows on the already-dark and narrow two-story houses that stretched until they reached older businesses near the city’s floodwalls.

            “Take the next right and it’ll be the fourth house on your left,” said Bill. Jamie pulled up in front of a house that was surrounded by a chain-link fence and an overgrown lawn.

            “This the place, Bill?” asked Griswold.

            “Yep,” he replied.

            With that, Griswold and Jamie got out of the car, walked up to the house, and knocked on the door. A short, heavyset man wearing jeans, a blue polo shirt, and thick glasses answered the door. He had long, strawberry-blond hair kept back in a ponytail and was smoking a cigarette.

            “Are you Jasper Matthews?” Griswold asked.

            “Yes ma’am, I am,” he replied as he took a drag.

            “The name’s Griswold Schwietzhoffer and I’m trying to help your friend, Bill, out of a predicament he’s found himself in. Do you mind if we ask you some questions?”

             “C’mon in,” said Jasper as he stepped aside. “Thanks for having Bill call earlier to let me know about what you’re doing so I can help. He’s a great guy and I’d hate for anything to happen to him.” He brought the two into his sparsely furnished living room where they all took a seat, Griswold and Jamie on the couch, Jasper in an old recliner.

            “What would you like to know?” Jasper asked as he put out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

            “Since you were with Bill on the night of the murder,” began Griswold, “I was hoping you could give us an account of what happened. To begin, at some point, did Bill ever express the need to use the bathroom?”

            “He did,” replied Jasper. “It was about an hour before the park closed.”

            “Alright,” said Griswold. “Did you see which way he went?”

            “From the way we were facing the lake, I’d say he went southeast. I can also tell you exactly where he was.”

            Griswold's eyes widened. “Really?”

            “Yeah. You see, he walked up a small hill into some bushes, where I’d assumed he’d wanted to go. He didn’t stop there, though. He went across this barren area until he came to a tree at the top of the hill where he peed. He was pretty drunk.”

            “You were watching Bill pee?” Jamie interrupted.

            “Oh no!” Jasper chuckled. “It’s nothing like that! I was just making sure he was safe.”

            “Oh, okay,” Jamie replied. “Thanks for that. Go on.”

            “Okay then,” said Griswold. “While you were watching him, did you recall seeing anything or anyone suspicious?”

            “I did see some chick hanging out by the lake,” said Jasper. “Like she was waiting for someone. Seemed pretty antsy.”

            Griswold paused for a moment. “Are you familiar with Rebecca Ivers?” she asked.

            “Yeah. I saw her picture on the news when the story broke. That and Bill had introduced me to her when they were dating.”

            “Did this woman at all resemble Rebecca?”

            “Hmm…she was the same height and shape. It was pretty dark, so I couldn’t get a good look.”

            “What was this woman doing while Bill was relieving himself?”

            “Mostly walking around on the shore.”

            “What about after Bill got back to you?”

            “By that point, I wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. I did hear a splat coming from the where she was, though.”

            Griswold smiled as she continued to write notes. “Now we’re really getting somewhere! Did you check on the woman before you left the park?”

            “No. It was closing and we all had work the next day. Besides, I figured she’d be fine if she tripped and fell in the mud since she didn’t call for help.”

            “Alright, one last question: Did you and your friends do anything else before you left?”

            “Yeah. Bill had dropped my keys while he was peeing and went to find them so we could all drive home. Sometimes I forget my keys in my car and Bill knows to grab them for me. We just got sidetracked and he never gave them back.”

            “Did you go with Bill?”

            “I did. Everyone searched for about fifteen minutes before he finally found the keys. Then we drove home.”

            “Did you notice anything or anyone suspicious at that point in time?”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Thank you for answering my questions,” said Griswold as they all rose. “You’ve given us some great information.”

            “No problem!” said Jasper as he showed the two to the door. “Glad I could help!”

            Jamie and Griswold got back in the car where an anxious Bill greeted them.

            “How’d it go?” he asked.

            “Very well,” said Griswold with a satisfied grin. “I believe that I have almost all of the information I need to solve your case.”

            Bill’s face lit up. “Really!?” he asked.

            “Yes, but I’m going to need some more evidence to prove my hypothesis. Jamie?”

            “Yeah?” she said.

            “I need you to drive us to a place that has a public bathroom. Then, onward to the Portsmouth Police Department,” said Griswold.

            “Wait,” said Jamie, “shouldn’t we see if Bill’s last friend has any useful info?”

            “Yes,” replied Griswold, “but he’s up in Piketon which is a ways away from Portsmouth. Going to the station first saves us time. Besides, it’ll probably be a good idea to spend a little time in Piketon after visiting said station.”

            “Why’s that?” asked Jamie.

            “Let’s just say that we’re going to need to get our hands on Rebecca’s necklace,” said Griswold.