After fourscore years of deliberate avoidance, I have seen my first corpse. The new dock directly across the canal from me, the one I have been bitching about because it partially blocks my view of the sunset, evidently caught a body on its jutting edge. And RNL is abuzz with conjecture.
Neighbor Gardener who took over weeding/watering duties in what has become our common plot, came bursting in a short while ago with the news that "Olga's tenant has been murdered!" Olga, a tiny 75 year old Italian widow with an enormous family, owns and lives in the triplex next to ours. Though not close, she drops in from time to time and we keep up with each other's major events (her recent mastectomy, for instance). So I naturally knocked on her door to get the inside dope. There was yellow tape around her last apartment (she lives in the first one) and when she let me in, she introduced me to her sister, her daughter, her grandson and a Real Live Detective!
The story is still somewhat garbled, but from what I understand, a youngish guy moved into the apartment a couple of weeks ago, but hadn't been seen since Friday. During the course of conversation, I learned that the body was still in the water directly across the canal from my back porch. And I've been sitting here all day, with a perfect view of the scene, and never once looked up to see the excitement going on right in front of my oblivious nose! Talk about Blogaddiction!
As soon as I absorbed that information, I took my leave of Olga & Co. and rushed back to my own place where I could see the dock, crawling with police, and watched as they dragged something that looked very much like a blue-grey mannequin from the water, laid it out on the dock, took some flash pictures, then wrapped it in a tarp and schlepped it out of sight.
Meanwhile, back at Olga's front door, a white van with "Crime Scene Unit" printed on it pulled up. The detective I had met earlier came out and I asked if they had identified the body yet. He said they thought it was indeed Olga's tenant, but could neither confirm nor deny whether foul play was involved.
So here I sit, writing it all down while trying to decide whether to fly into terror mode (is there a killer at large?) or mark it as just another day on Redneck Lane. Stay tuned.
posted on August 20, 2006 3:58 PM (PST)
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Comments: 7
Chances are the guy drank a little too much of the old malt liquor, thought he'd go fishing with his shoelaces and ended up as bait.
But my thoughts are with you.
Sometimes it's good to be flat wrong.