Sacrificial Ground Read Free Page A

got a body dumped in a hole and sort of covered over with dirt and grass and garbage, whatever was around that could be thrown on her.”
    â€œHer?”
    â€œA woman. From the look of it, more like a girl.”
    â€œI see,” Frank said.
    â€œYoung girl. Pretty,” Caleb said. “That sort of puts the cherry on top.”
    â€œHow’d she die?” Frank asked.
    â€œDon’t know yet,” Caleb said. “Photo car didn’t get here yet, and we can’t move a thing till after the pictures.” He turned and pointed toward the center of the lot. A few patrolmen could be seen erecting crime-scene barriers and roping off the entire area. Knots of people, all of them black, stood staring at them from across the adjoining streets.
    Caleb lit his pipe and eyed the crowd. “People do love to stare, don’t they?” He smiled. “I remember back in the forties, Frank, why, hell, a few cops would take off through a neighborhood like this at full steam, siren louder’n hell, just shooting their pistols into the air.” He laughed. “Hiyo Silver, away.” He chuckled. “No more of that.”
    â€œYou didn’t ever do that, did you, Caleb?” Frank asked.
    Caleb turned from the crowd to look at Frank. “Once or twice,” he said softly, “but I stopped before I lost my soul. There’s not a black in this division don’t come to me for help now.” He turned back toward the vacant lot. “Funny thing is, the girl, she’s white.” He looked back at Frank. “It’s little things like that, Frank, that make life interesting.”
    Frank did not answer. He looked away from Caleb and over to the vacant lot. It was high with summer weeds, dandelions and goldenrods. Kudzu twined about the rusty hulk of an old car at the far rear of the lot, and two patrolmen were already slogging through the thick growth of ragweed and briar to search it.
    Caleb pulled a red handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his balding head. “Going to be a hot one, looks like.”
    â€œThey all are, this time of year,” Frank said indifferently. “Well, I’ll go take a look.”
    It was only about twenty yards from the sidewalk to the body, but it was heavy going all the way. The ground was pitted as if it had been under mortar fire, and the surrounding weeds grew more and more thickly as Frank neared the small patch of barren ground where the body lay.
    â€œMorning, Lieutenant,” one of the uniformed officers said as Frank trudged forward.
    Frank instantly recognized him as one of the men who’d pulled him up from the gutter only a few hours before. “You’ve had a busy morning, I guess,” he said.
    The officer smiled sheepishly. “Yes, sir, I guess I have.”
    Caleb came slogging through the brush, still mopping his face and neck. “Goddamn,” he blurted, “nothing but briar bushes and huckleberries in this whole damn lot.” He stopped, and nodded toward a group of patrolmen who stood at some distance talking quietly and glancing toward the ground.
    â€œRight yonder, Frank,” Caleb said, pointing to a break in the undergrowth. “We found her fast, so it’s not too bad.”
    Together, they walked slowly over to a dusty area of ground and looked down.
    Caleb pocketed his handkerchief, his eyes fixed, almost lovingly, on the body which lay sprawled before him. “I don’t care what they say, you don’t ever get used to it,” he said. He glanced at Frank. “That’s what makes us good, Frank, we don’t ever get used to it.”
    The body lay face up in a shallow gully, and by the time the police photographers arrived, Frank felt as if he had been staring at it most of his life. Caleb stood beside him, pointing out various details, the lack of bloodstains in the parched ground which surrounded her, the lack of cuts or bruises, except on her