Five-minute Mysteries 2. Ken Weber

Barbara. Bought ’er in ’22 from –

      Weinert: Yes, thank you, sir. The northwest corner of Queen and Barbara. Now your home there has a porch facing west, is that correct?

      Kaster: Yessir, west side. You see, the missus wanted a –

      Weinert: Just the porch, Mr. Kaster. Now, how many other houses are there to the west of yours?

      Kaster: None. We’re the last –

      Weinert: And are there trees, say, a woodlot or bush to the west of you?

      Kaster: Not a tree. Just Ed Demerling’s big field ’tween us and the Hanover Road. I’d say she’s maybe thirty acres. Ed, he’s got wheat in ’er this year. Looks to me –

      Weinert: Yes, yes, could you tell the court where were you on the evening of August 20, 1941?

      Kaster: Well, on the porch! Like I told you before, me and the missus were watchin’ the sunset. You see –

      Weinert: The sunset. And is it correct that you remained on the porch for at least another two hours after that?

      Kaster: Had to be about that. You see I went inside ’cause I wanted to hear the ten o’clock news on the radio, but it was already started when I turned it on.

      Weinert: Before you went inside – now this is important, Mr. Kaster – did you see a tractor traveling north on the road that runs along the other side of the field – I think you identified it as “Ed Demerling’s field”?

      Kaster: Yeah, the Hanover Road. Ten, fifteen minutes before we went inside, Art Jergens’s tractor –

      Bettger: Objection!

      Losch: Sustained.

      Weinert: Rather than say whose tractor it was, Mr. Kaster, could you describe –

      Kaster: D’you want to know about the tractor or not? There’s only one tractor for miles around here that’s got this great big high bar what loops way up over the seat, and that’s Art’s!

      Boettger: Your Honor!

      Losch: A little more careful direction is in order, Mr. Weinert.

      Weinert: Yes, Your Honor. Now don’t mention any names, Mr. Kaster. You saw a tractor traveling north on the Hanover Road and the tractor had a high bar that loops over the seat. Is that correct?

      Kaster: Saw it clear as could be. See the full moon was just up and we could see it – what’s that word you said in your office – sil ... silhouetted? It was silhouetted perfectly against the moon. I even said to the missus –

      Weinert: And you saw this about ten or fifteen minutes before–

      Losch: Excuse me, Mr. Weinert. Would you approach the bench? And Mr. Boettger?

      CONFERENCE AT BENCH.

      Note of Judge Losch

      In Crown vs. Jergens, the undersigned offered Crown opportunity to withdraw the charges against Jergens in light of Kaster’s testimony, and it was accepted. Although the witness, Kaster, appears to have perjured himself, it is the view of the undersigned that the error in his testimony does not arise out of malice. There will be no further charges in this matter.

      Honorable Elmer Losch

      ?

      What is the “error” in Kaster’s testimony to which the judge refers?

       Click here for the solution

      9

      "Odd Billy" and the Backpack

      Sharnell Yates made an elaborate fuss of pulling down the sun visor and adjusting it to keep the early morning sun out of her eyes. She fiddled even longer with the little portable radio taped onto the dash of Schomberg’s sole police car. When the dial finally hit on the local weather report, she listened with head cocked to one side, as though it was the most important communication of her day.

      What Sharnell was doing – and she freely admitted it to herself – was anything that would keep her from having to make small talk with “Odd Billy” Sniderman in the passenger seat beside her. Not that Billy was a chatterbox but he was unpredictable – and explosive. After two tours in Vietnam, “Odd Billy” Sniderman had come home to Schomberg with invisible wounds deep in his soul.

      “The sun we’ve got this morning is going to stay right up there all by itself. No clouds, you lucky people,” the radio host was saying. “Pretty much a repeat of yesterday. Good stiff breeze out of the west-southwest again, and that’ll keep the humidity down, so you can really enjoy the day. High of 76 degrees, or if you’re one of our listeners just over the border, that’s about 23 Celsius and ...”

      “S’nother mile. Keep straight.” Billy spoke for the first time since they’d left the town limits. He was sitting rigidly in the seat, eyes fixed on some vague point ahead of the car.

      Sharnell nodded. “’Kay,” she said, grateful for what appeared to be his calm. She wasn’t really afraid, but there was no denying her uneasiness, and it made her miss the rest of the weather report. Billy had never actually harmed anyone, to her knowledge, or done anything blatantly illegal, at least by Schomberg standards. A larger community might have charged him with vagrancy, or perhaps found reason by now to force him into a treatment program, but small towns can be quite accepting of strange behavior, especially from one of their own. That was pretty much the case with Billy.

      There was no question he’d earned his nickname. “Odd Billy” was often seen holding animated conversations with unseen companions. The look in his eyes was, well, scary, a feature that somehow seemed a bit more frightening because of his tendency to suddenly appear behind people without making a sound. No one, it seemed, ever heard him coming. Then there was his persistent habit of going into the stores on Main Street through the back door; in Schomberg, where nobody used locks in the daytime, that was easy to do. Perhaps the oddest thing about “Odd Billy” was the expression on his face. Sharnell had known him more than thirty years and had never once seen it change.

      He spoke once more, again without moving. “Loggin’ road runs off to the right after those trees up there. ’At’s where you turn.”

      Sharnell could see the road he was referring to, and turned onto it a few seconds later.

      “What were you doing way up here yesterday, Billy?” she asked.

      “Walkin’.”

      She was going to ask why, but thought better of it. He’d already agreed to show her the camping spot where he’d found the backpack, so for now she felt it best not to push. Just before dusk the evening before, Billy had come in the back door of the Blue Spot Café with the pack over one shoulder. Visiting the café was pretty much part of his routine: he often came in after the supper crowd had gone, to cadge leftover fries, and the owner usually obliged. Normally, the backpack would not have raised eyebrows, except that Sharnell had been asking questions on Main Street much of the day yesterday. The police down in Missoula had asked her to look around for a couple who’d been camping in the Schomberg area and were overdue on their return. Sharnell had talked to the town’s eateries and outfitters, as well as several other likely stores.