Chapter 26
Bloch
Sag Harbor has some of the most expensive real estate in the world.
Not a place where you’d expect to find retired police, especially those living off their pension.
The churches were plenty and ornate, built to honor those lost at the sea.
Windmills had been preserved here, as in East Hampton.
This was an old town, built on the proceeds of whaling, a community that had grown rich on the profits from flesh.
Like a lot of the United States where there is prosperity, you don’t have to look hard to find old bloodstains in the dirt.
They climbed the stoop and stood on the porch. Bloch rang the doorbell.
A heavy-set man in an over-sized plaid shirt and faded, baggy blue jeans opened the door. He had a receding hairline, a faint beard and slight twitch in his left eye. Either the clothes belonged to someone else or he had lost a lot of weight recently.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked.
Bloch noticed he stood side-on to the door. The right side of his body beyond view. His right hand hanging at his hip. She knew there was a piece in that hand. A quiver in the man’s voice let her know he was nervous.
‘Mr. Winchester? I’m Bloch. This is my partner, Gabriel Lake. We’re private detectives. Could we come inside and talk?’
‘What about?’ said the man.
‘We’re investigating a disappearance. An old case of yours.’
‘Can’t help you,’ he said, and began to close the door.
‘We just spoke to Captain Landry. We got the impression that maybe we didn’t get the whole story. Thought we would talk to you,’ said Lake.
Winchester hesitated. Stared at them.
‘You got ID?’ he asked.
Bloch showed him her PI license.
Winchester looked at Lake.
Lake smiled, warmly.
‘You’re the fed they talk about?’ he asked.
‘Used to be.’
He took Bloch’s license, studied it. Looked at her again.
‘You’re that Bloch. I didn’t know you two were working together.’
‘It’s safer for everyone if someone keeps an eye on him,’ said Bloch.
‘Come in,’ said Winchester, swinging open the door. As he turned to walk back down the hallway, Bloch saw him snick the safety catch on his Colt and drop it into a holster on his right hip.
He led them into a pleasant kitchen, old but well cared for.
Country-style pine cupboards, a polished stove and a drip coffee machine, which judging by the smell had just finished brewing.
They sat at a round kitchen table at his invitation, and both said they would certainly take coffee.
Bloch knew Lake wouldn’t drink it, but he knew well enough to accept hospitality when it was offered, to help build rapport.
Winchester brought the coffees, sat down beside Bloch.
‘Landry said you took medical retirement. How are you doing?’ asked Lake.
‘Like shit, mostly. I took the pension, but it was that or be fired.’
‘What happened?’ asked Bloch.
Winchester took a sip of his coffee, eyed them both for a second then put his mug down, seemingly after he had made a decision about what to say next.
‘I heard of you both. I know you by reputation only. Enough that people seem to think you’re both straight-up so I’ll cut to the chase.
I was forced out of my job not because I was bad at it, but because I was thorough and competent.
And I didn’t take a hint that I should stop asking awkward questions.
If you’re here to see me, then it’s about Teresa Chase. I knew it soon as I laid eyes on you.’
‘We saw the file in Landry’s office. Didn’t seem like much to go on for a disappearance at sea? What kind of questions were you asking?’ asked Lake.
‘The right kind. You see, you saw the Teresa Chase file. That says she disappeared, suspected drowned in an accident. But that’s not what happened. At least I don’t believe it. I don’t believe Teresa Chase drowned.’
‘You think she was murdered?’ asked Bloch.
‘I do, but I can’t prove it.’
‘Of course not – hard to prove anything when you don’t have a body,’ said Lake.
Winchester’s eyes locked on Lake.
‘Oh, I got a body.’
‘You found a body in the sea?’
‘Nope. Found a woman’s corpse buried in the woods.
’Bout the same age as Teresa. Been dead about the same time as she had been missing.
I think the report of her being lost at sea was a distraction.
No one was going to look for her body in the woods if she had been suspected of drowning at sea.
Yep, far as I could tell, that body was Teresa Chase. ’
‘Wasn’t there a formal identification of the body?’ asked Bloch.
He stared out of the window for a moment, and tensed, as if he thought he had heard someone in his backyard. Bloch and Lake sat still and quiet. After a few moments, Winchester looked back to his coffee mug. He stared into the black liquid as he spoke.
‘We couldn’t formally ID the body. It’s not so easy if the body don’t have a head.’