freezing but it didn’t take long to get used to it. The little fish who moments before had been scared away came back to see what the white monoliths were. One even kissed at his toes like in one of those fancy fish pedicure places.
Harry returned to his tea. As he poured he asked himself the question that almost everyone who rents a house at Ice Lake asks – “Why do I live in the city?”
“Gosh, I don’t think I have ever had a neighbour who serves himself high tea,” said a voice from behind him.
Harry was initially annoyed at the intrusion on his solitude, but that was before he turned and saw the gorgeous, thirtyish, brunette standing behind him wearing a pink scrub top and white nurse’s trousers.
“Hi,” Harry said trying to free himself from the picnic table. “Can I get you a cup?”
“No, thank you.”
“How about a Milano cookie?”
She laughed and her little turned-up nose crinkled in a way that Harry thought was the cutest thing he had ever seen.
“Ah, I see you’ve been shopping at our local superstore.”
“Yes indeed. Would you like a Spam sandwich, Miss?”
She predictably shook her head, extended her hand and said: “I’m Meredith Keller but everyone calls me MK.”
“I’m Harry. Harry Cull. It is a pleasure to meet you Nurse or Doctor Keller?”
“Actually I’m a stripagram. I have an unusual midweek lunchtime bachelor party today.”
“Well, he’s a lucky groom.”
She smiled and it was very nice.
Harry’s sliding doors opened and out popped the six-and-a-half-foot form of Ed Cirba. He wore the full Pennsylvania State Police uniform: the black boots, the light grey shirt with a black tie and black epaulettes, the dark grey trousers with a black stripe running along the outside edge were held up by a black belt clipped to a four-inch-thick utility belt sporting a black holster containing a .45-calibre pistol. Also hanging from the belt were handcuffs, expandable baton, a walkie-talkie, and two leather cases, one holding a flashlight, the other pepper spray. On top of all this was his twelve-inch diameter wide-brimmed hat, just like the one Ranger Smith wore in the Yogi Bear cartoons. Cirba was an impressive human being in civvies but, in uniform, he was downright intimidating.
“There you are,” he shouted.
Cirba bounded down to the high tea in less than four strides and said: “Mr Cull, it’s good to see you again.” He shook Harry’s hand and then drew him into an all-engulfing bear hug. “And hello, MK.”
“Hiya, Ed,” she said standing on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“I take it you know each other?”
“MK’s an emergency room nurse at Wilkes Barrie County Hospital. We see each other often but not usually under such pleasant circumstances.”
Harry stepped back and admired the trooper and the nurse. “You know if I could find an Indian chief outfit, I’m sure we could win a Halloween competition somewhere.”
“As tempting as that sounds I have to go to work,” MK said. “But it’s just a half shift. Me and the girls are floating tonight about 5.30. We don’t usually allow boys, but I think we could make an exception for you two.”
“I can guarantee that Mrs Cirba won’t give me time off to float but I will try to get Harry back for it.”
“Good,” MK said as she walked back into the house next to Harry’s, “I’ll see you then. See ya later, Ed.”
“What’s floating?” Harry asked the trooper.
“Trust me, you’ll love it.” Ed took a cookie from the tray. “You settled in?”
“No.”
“Good, I’ll take you to the Horseshoe.”
“Is that a place for lunch?”
“No, that’s the murder scene.”
If you turn right out of the lake and head east for five miles, you come to Ice Lake’s nearest town – Oaktree, PA. The Lakers call that stretch the Five Mile Road. If you go left to St Elizabeth’s, that road is called the Seven Mile Road. Collectively both roads are known as the Thirteen Mile Road. No one knows where the extra mile comes from. It’s a Pocono mystery.
Cirba drove Harry to the site of the other Pocono mystery. About two miles along the Five Mile Road they pulled left onto a gravel slip known as the Horseshoe. Its name refers to the fact that the road simply goes into the woods and comes out again in a semicircle. After five hundred yards Harry could see the police tape and another squad car in the distance. The young statie in the car was obviously asleep with his head back and his mouth open. That’s what it initially looked like but then Harry felt a horrible lurch in his stomach as the idea came to him that maybe he had been shot. The feeling didn’t last long. The young trooper snapped awake as they drew closer to the car.
The cop popped out of his vehicle and tried not to look as if he had just woken up. Cirba met him and tried to pretend he hadn’t seen him asleep. He was a cadet and had been on the overnight watch at the scene. Cirba sent him home and then started pulling the police tape off the trees.
“Is this no longer a crime scene?” Harry asked.
“We got all the information from here that we’re gonna get.”
“And what was that?”
Cirba broke the plastic tape, rolled it up and, for the want of a better place to put it, stuffed it into his pocket. The forest of scrub oaks in this part of Pennsylvania didn’t seem that dark from the road, Harry thought, but once you were in them it was hard to see more than a short way ahead. Together they walked up a dark path that opened into a glen. In the centre was a ring of stones surrounding a firepit that looked like it had been used recently. Scattered around were broken and unbroken beer bottles and empty rifle shells. A bit further up the hill was a mound of earth that looked as if it had been made by the push of a bulldozer. In front of the mound were pulverized cardboard boxes with silhouettes of deer and men, as well as years of broken bottles and perforated rusted beer cans. One of the target practice silhouettes on the ground portrayed a man in a turban.
“The vic, Bill Thomson,” Cirba said, pointing just downhill of the firepit, “was found here. He had shotgun wounds to both knees and a double-barrelled shot to the back of the head.”
“Ouch,” Harry said without trying to be funny.
“Yeah, nasty stuff. The leg wounds were pretty – close range – we found some stray shot in the dirt but not much. My theory is that the shooter was behind the vic and put a shot in the back of the knee to drop him. But instead the vic turned on him so he emptied the second barrel into his other knee from the front. The vic went down
