Savannah By Moonlight

Chapter one

The case of the murdered debutante

Just after sunrise on a sweltering Tuesday morning, Will Caskey was walking his dog down a dirt path not far from his home just off of Highway 17 outside of Savannah, Georgia. Will’s dog, Pepper, began to act strangely. The normally playful dog was cowering behind Will. Will scanned the area and felt his own sense of dread as he heard a buzzing that could only be the sound of thousands of flies just yards away in the thick brush. That is when the smell hit him. It was the gag-inducing scent of death. 

Pepper whined as Will slowly approached the buzzing sound. She let out small hesitant barks. Will ignored Pepper’s warnings and pushed his way into the overgrown plants. The smell was as thick as the humid air. Will’s eyes traced something covered by foliage. His mind would not allow him to recognize it as a woman’s body. His imagination kept trying to change it into an animal of some kind. He shook as his eyes met the lifeless open eyes of Vera Paulson. 

By 1030 that morning, the entire area was covered in police, technicians, and a small gathering of neighbors who couldn’t abate their curiosity. Among the professionals at the crime scene, Detective Simmons stared down at the body and shook his head.

            “ Look familiar to you?“ Peter Stuart, the forensics officer, asked.

            “Dammit.” Was all Simmons could reply.

At 9 PM, in a warehouse district just west of downtown Savannah, Detective Simmons stood at the door of Franklin Ellis’s office/home. It was an old rusted-out warehouse, very few modern conveniences. Simmons banged on the door with the authoritative knock of a seasoned police officer. He waited. Just as he was about to leave, he heard the bolt unlock on the door.

The metal of the door groaned as it slowly opened to reveal Franklin Ellis.

Anytime anyone saw Franklin Ellis they immediately thought to themselves How can this man be wearing an overcoat in the middle of a Savannah heatwave?

Simmons, accustomed to Frank’s attire, smiled broadly.

“Frank, I need your help.”

“Sorry, Simmons, I’m all out of favors.“

“I think you’re going to want in on this.”

“You’ve never been a good judge of what I want.”

“Fair enough. We found a body today. Torn up. Everybody wants to be a wild animal. I’m not convinced.“

Frank shifted uncomfortably. He took a deep breath. He nodded silently.

“Let’s get a drink.” Frank said as he stepped through the door.

If there was one thing that you could count on in Savannah, Georgia, it was that there was always a bar nearby. Frank and Simmons sat in the back of a cozy brick pub. The single window unit AC was working overtime to keep the temperature in the bar at 85°. Simmons had to loosen his tie and unbutton the buttons around his neck. His sports coat draped the back of his chair and sweat was visible in all the regular places. Frank’s overcoat sat on top of his sportcoat and he wore gloves.

“Avery is dead.” Frank declared after his first taste of whiskey.

“I know.” Simmons nodded.

“But that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I can’t help it." Simmons sipped his cocktail. "Maybe a copycat?”

“Let’s hope not.” Frank began to entertain dark notions.

“It was a mess, just savage… her heart was gone. I think all the mess was to throw us off. Forensic agreed with me that the cuts were more in line with blades than claws and teeth.”

“Avery used his teeth.”

“Right… I was just thinking… maybe you could look into it.”

“Are you hiring me?”

“The department can’t afford to hire you… But if you get us good information, there’s probably money in it.“

“What about the girl's family? They got any money?“

“Jesus, Frank…”

“I run a business, Simmons, I can’t chase killers of the goodness of my heart. You get a paycheck for what you do, I need a paycheck for what I do.”

“The victim’s name is Vera Paulson.”

“Any relation to Pearl Paulson?”

“Granddaughter.”

“Well… that sounds like a paycheck to me.”

Most everyone in Savannah knew Pearl Paulson. She owned a number of successful restaurants around the region and was universally accepted as the ambassador of southern cooking. Her empire was a muti-million dollar industry built on butter and southern hospitality. She owned several houses, but her main home was an island retreat 12 miles from downtown Savannah.

The Paulson estate was a large, garish mansion on a beautifully landscaped plot of land. The sun was burning brilliantly bright as Frank trudged up the long driveway to the front door. The doorbell chimed a piece of classical music that was familiar but eluded Frank’s ability to name it. After a few moments, a tall man answered the door.

“Can I help you?” the man asked as he surveyed Frank with a suspicious eye.

“My name is Frank Ellis. I was wondering if I could speak with Mrs. Paulson?”

“What is this about?”

“Her granddaughter.”

The man stood frozen for several beats, 

“One moment.”

The man shut the door, leaving Frank on the doorstep to look at the yard with admiration.

The door reopened and the man gestured to Frank to enter.

“My name is John, I am Mrs. Paulson’s personal assistant.”

John led Frank to the back room. As they walked Frank took in the lavish accommodations. He marveled at the works of art he recognized and the sheer expense of every piece of furnishing. It was like walking through a museum. John pointed to a purple chair and indicated without words that Frank was to sit there. 

Frank did.

“May I take your coat?” John reached his hand out.

“No… no, thank you.”

John was puzzled by this but shrugged it off. 

Frank was left alone in the room. Looking around it seemed to be an office of some type. But there didn’t seem to be any trace of work ever being done there. He tried to get as much information about Pearl Paulson. The room was decorated in awards and magazine articles cut out and placed in display frames, There were pictures of celebrity chefs and film stars. His eyes fell upon a book in the bookshelf unlike any of the others. It was a battered, black leather book among pristen glossy cookbooks and romance novels. The book stood out like a sore thumb. A family bible, perhaps? Frank rose and began to cross over to the bookshelf.

“Mr. Ellis?” A sing-song southern voice rang out and stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Mrs. Paulson! A pleasure to meet you.” Frank said as he spun on his heels,

“Oh please, call me Pearl.” Her smile was like a theater spotlight, once you found yourself in it, you just wanted to perform.

“Then you should call me Frank.”

“Frank Ellis, as I live and breathe.”

“You know who I am?”

“Who doesn’t know about the man who caught a werewolf!”

Frank cringed.

“Ah… yeah…”

“It was just about the most Savannah thing to happen in a long spell!” Pearl smirked.

“Right.”

“You’ve made a bit of a career out of chasing ghosts and ghouls, isn’t that right, Frank?”

“What can I say? The cases find me.”

“Like my poor Vera? She’s a case that found you?”

“That is what I am here about.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that one bit.” Pearl's demeanor takes a shift towards stoic.

“A friend on the force approached me last night. He hoped I could shine a light on this case.”

“I see. And you are not willing to do it out of the goodness of your heart, are you?”

“There’s not that much goodness left.”

“No. Obviously not.”

“To be honest, Mrs. Paulson… Pearl… I don’t know if I can help. I don't know what your granddaughter might’ve gotten into. But, I do have resources that the police don’t have. I have channels that they cannot access. I can do my best to bring her killer to justice.”

The silence was all-consuming. Pearl stared at Frank and Frank did his best to seem noble. After a long, uncomfortable period of time, Pearl smiled.

“What more could anyone ask?”

“Well, they could ask me to do it out of the goodness of my heart.”

“That does seem unfair. Given what little you have left. Bill me, Frank. I’ll have John explain how to submit for payment. Find out who killed my Vera. And I’m not paying you to play nice, Frank. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Pearl.”

“Pearl.”

John escorted Frank to a small room just outside the office. He handed him a card with information regarding payment and then escorted him to the front door. 

Frank walked down the driveway toward his car parked on the main road. He turned and looked back at the mansion. He saw Pearl watching him from a second-story window. He waved. She disappeared into the house.