Biff not there to coach his team.â
âWell, that too, but Shep was scheduled to be the umpire.â
âWaitâmy sonsâ team was going to play Biffâs team, and Biffâs brother was going to be the umpire? Outrageous! In what universe is that fair?â
âWelcome to the Biff zone. And Shepâs only his half brother, so itâs only half outrageous. Iâll go order the porta-potties and head right over.â
I hung up, still fuming, and turned back to see what was going on around the porta-potty. Cousin Horace, Caerphillyâs official crime scene technician, had arrived. He might not look very professional, wearing his Eagles t-shirt, Eagles hat, and faded blue jeans, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was one of the few people for whom today was going to turn out utterly satisfying. Not just baseball, but a crime scene followedâwe hopedâby baseball! He and Dad were a matched set sometimes.
At the moment, Horace was standing in the doorway of the porta-potty, talking over his shoulder to the chief, who was making notes.
âWhatâs going on here?â
Biff had arrived.
The chief turned around. I saw him start to hold out his hand to shake Biffâs and then stifle the impulse.
âMr. Brown?â he said. âIâm afraid I may have some bad news for you. It appears that your brother is dead.â
âHeart attack, right?â Biff shook his head. âThe doctor kept warning him those bacon cheeseburgers would get him in the end.â
âIâm afraid it looks like homicide,â the chief said.
âHomicide?â Biffâs mouth fell open in astonishment. âIs this some kind of a joke?â
The chief gestured to the porta-potty. Horace stood aside, and to my relief both he and Dad had solemn, concerned looks on their faces. Biff stepped closer and peered in.
âThatâs him,â he said. âSon of a ⦠yeah, thatâs him. Shep Henson. My brother. Half brother, technically. Damn.â
âWhen did you last see Mr. Henson?â The chief had flipped to a fresh page in his notebook and was scribbling.
âYesterday afternoon, or maybe youâd call it early evening,â Biff said. âHe works for me at the construction company. I got there at about six thirtyâno, make that closer to sevenâand shortly after I arrived he told me he was taking off. I stayed on and worked for a couple of hours in my office, and thenâwell, Iâm sure you heard about the break-in at my supply yard.â
âIâve read the reports from deputies Shiffley and Butler,â the chief said. âI thought it was a false alarm.â
âDepends on your definition of false alarm,â Biff said. âThere was definitely someone stumbling around out there. I heard them, and when I went to investigate, I found Shep had left the side gate unlocked. At least I assume it was Shep; locking upâs his job most days. I didnât know if it was thieves or just kids playing a prank, so I called nine-one-one. Couple of your officers helped me check the whole supply yard. We didnât find anything missing, but itâs a big yard, and thereâs a lot of random stuff out there. I called Shep a couple times to get him to come back and help out, but he never answered. You donât suppose he was alreadyâ¦â
Biffâs voice trailed off, and he frowned down at his dead brother as if angry with him. But maybe he was just one of those men who hid real feeling under a pretense of irritation.
âDamn,â he said. âHe was supposed to umpire today. How am I supposed to find someone else on such short notice?â
The chief and I glanced at each other. His face seemed to show the same surprise I felt. Then, with a visible effort, he assumed his usual calm, professional expression.
âIâm sure there will be plenty of time to arrange