Short Story Fiction: Inspector Pascal Mysteries 1000 #21

Episode #21 Gone. Can the truth be found on a trail that leads nowhere?
INSPECTOR PASCAL MYSTERIES 1000 ©2016
A classic-style mystery-adventure detective is solving crimes in only1000 words!

INSPECTOR PASCAL MYSTERIES 1000
#21 Gone by T.K. Naliaka ©2016
 
     The leading trio of two women and a man stopped and waited.  Twelve people, escorted by five policemen formed a semi-circle as a third collection of people stood behind them to watch and listen.
     The prosecutor, Angus announced. “As per the jury’s request to visit the site, this is the trail where the defendant testified he brought his four-year-old daughter for a hike. The document you all have in hand is his original police statement.  We will progress along the path the defendant claims he was on with his daughter before he claims she vanished.”
     She continued. “The prosecution asserts that it is simply not credible that Mr. Heath could have lost his daughter under the circumstances he described.  We remind the jurors of the testimony of his ex-wife that she had protested the court-mandated joint custody.  An intensive search of the area by police, with tracking dogs after the accused reported the child gone never found any evidence that the girl had ever been here in the first place.”
    Guarded by two court officers, a man in an orange coverall with his hands shackled to a belly chain cried out. “It had rained!  I carried her on my shoulders!  I put her down here!”
    Angus rebuked him. “Mr. Heath!  If you cannot adhere to the conduct you are required to maintain during this field visit, you will be escorted back to the county jail!”
     Heath’s face darkened.  He sharply shook his head, but he stayed silent.
     Two men standing slightly apart from all the others, waited as the prosecution team continued on, followed by the jurors. Big and broad-shouldered, the uniformed officer leaned over and murmured. “Sir, what do you think?”
     He replied. “I don’t know.”
     “Sir, if he’s innocent, this would be tearing him apart.  Wouldn’t a guilty man behave as if he was a reasonable person?”
     He was non-committal. “Accomplished liars are convincing.”
     “I’m aware of that, sir. I deal with them every day.”
     He sighed. “I know.  I am obligated to maintain my neutrality since they called me as an advisor.”  He took a moment to study the diagram of the original search grid.  He glanced up, “Uh-oh!”
     They hustled forward to help one of the jurors who had stumbled, “Madame!  Are you all right?” They helped her up and back on her feet.
     The assistant prosecutor worriedly picked his way along the path past the other jurors, “Inspector Pascal! Sergeant Braque!  Is there a problem?”
     Pascal replied. “She just tripped.”
     She brushed her clothes. “I’m not very good at hiking, I’m sorry!”
     “It’s only a little farther.  See?”
     “Oh, I’m sure I can manage that.”
     They gathered by a jumble of rocks to find a trickle of clear water coming out of a small hole, flow in a shallow crack across a flat boulder, dribble down and then run along a narrow, gravelly depression across the trail to continue downhill. “This was the last place the defendant stated he saw his daughter.”  The prosecutor hiked about one hundred feet further and called to them. “Mr. Heath, you stated you were here.  Is that correct?”
     Tears began to roll down his cheeks. “She was playing with the water!  I just wanted to take a photo!”
     Angus called back. “As it is apparent, it’s not probable that the accused could have lost sight of his daughter!  There is an unimpeded view in all directions!”
     Braque frowned, but when he glanced at Pascal, Pascal was staring at the little rivulet.
     Pascal tapped Braque’s arm. “Let me have your nightstick.”
     Three jurors turned slightly when they noticed that Pascal had climbed off the trail to jab between the rocks with the black baton.  Braque inserted himself between them and Pascal to provide a bit of cover as Pascal picked his way around the outcropping to poke among the stones.
     Pascal felt around with his foot to test the ground.  Between some of the rocks the soil was soft and moist.  He pushed the tip of the nightstick into the dirt.  It penetrated slowly to half its length, then suddenly Pascal pitched forward as the nightstick broke through all resistance.
     The jurors cried out in fright.  Braque lunged and grabbed Pascal’s leg as he upended, flailing to catch at anything solid as the earth crumbled away in front of him. Two dislodged rocks barely missed his head before tumbling into the hole.
     Braque dragged Pascal to solid ground.  Scraped and bruised, dirt and grass-streaked, Pascal gingerly sat up.  The crowd - jurors, the accused and the court officials - fell silent as Braque handed his torch to Pascal who got back down on his stomach and eased over to the edge of the hole to peer down inside.
     Pascal finally pushed himself away, got up and grimly handed back Braque’s torch.  The jurors held their breaths with dread as Pascal gravely went to the shackled father, gently rested his hands on the man’s shoulders and leaned close to quietly speak to him.  After a moment, Heath cried out, sank to his knees, bowed his head and began sobbing.
     Pascal finally turned  and explained to them all. “It seems insignificant, but a constant trickle steadily erodes out spaces under the surface.  While playing about the rocks when her father walked away for a minute to take a photo, the child simply stepped on a hollowed-out spot and fell through. The unstable hole collapsed and a few rocks tumbled down to obscure what had happened.  The constant wetness made it practically impossible for the dogs to pick up any trace of her scent.  It seemed as if she had gone, but she is still here... just a few meters from where her father saw her last.”
     The jurors began to cry.
     Pascal appealed to all of them. “Mr. Heath’s child cannot be restored to him, but his honor can be.  It wasn’t any sort of murder or negligence… just a tragic accident.  Please allow him to be free to grieve in peace.”
                                                                                      by T.K. Naliaka ©2016 all rights reserved