Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows: Lee and Miranda (16 page)

“That’s Johnny,” Miranda said. “He’s a nice young man. He has his mom’s personality.”

Johnny moved his tall frame toward the car, smiling the whole time.

Miranda introduced Lee when they got out of the car.

“Hey, Miranda, Mom called and said you’d be stopping by to get the gun. People act strange about stuff like that. I don’t know why.” He handed the can to Lee. “I put a lid on it so the kerosene won’t splash out on you.”

“Thanks, Johnny,” Lee said. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” Lee took the can from Johnny securing it in the trunk.

“I’m sorry I won’t have time to chat with you, Miranda, but I have an appointment in town. I was on my way out when I heard your car pull up.”

“Thanks, Johnny,” Lee said. “We don’t want you to be late for your appointment, so we’ll be leaving.”

They got back into the car and drove down the road. Lee looked at Miranda. “I guess we got here at the right time.”

“It sure looks that way,” Miranda said.

Back at the mansion, Lee carried the can to the front porch. Miranda followed him. He looked at her and said. “Where do you want me to put this?”

“I have a trash-burning barrel out back. Take the can dump the kerosene into the barrel. I’ll have Adrian take care of it when he gets back.”

“Oh, okay, whatever you say,” Lee said as he saluted.

“Real funny, Lee. When you’ve poured out the kerosene, grab the gun with this plastic bag, seal it, then use this rag to wrap it up, and put it in this box. I’ll print a label for FedEx to pick it up,” Miranda said as she walked into the house.

She came back out to the porch carrying a printed label and attached it to the box. About thirty minutes later a package pickup truck pulled into the driveway. The carrier jumped out carrying a metal box. Miranda met him at the door. He opened the lined container, placed the box inside, and sealed it. He looked at Miranda, smiled, winked, and said, “Thank you, Miranda.” She nodded at him then he hurried to his truck.

“Wow, Kid, that was an unusual exchange.”

“You don’t need to know everything, Lee. Let’s get back to the computer room.”

“You go ahead. I’ll be there shortly.”

Miranda stepped inside and closed the door. Lee stood on the front porch, leaning on one of the pillars, drinking in the vistas and going over the busy day’s events in his mind. Miranda stuck her head out the door as it started to spit snow showers.

“Miranda to Lee, where are you? It’s cold. Come inside.”

“Sorry, I was going over in my mind everything Roger said. Can you believe that guy?”

“Roger is the least of my thoughts right now. We’ll get to him later. Right now . . .” Miranda paused waving the manuscript at Lee. He followed her through the door and into the living room to read it.

He read ten pages then paused and put the papers down on the sofa. “What the heck? The information in this manuscript is the same as the letters. It would seem we had the manuscript all the time and didn’t know it.”

“It looks like we took a trip to Florida for nothing. Well, maybe not. At least now we know,” Miranda said with a smile.

“Okay, Miranda, now we’ve solved the mystery of the manuscript, let’s get back to our other research.”

“Here’s what I’ve pulled up on the Bliss brothers,” Miranda said. “Cain did die in an accident at his workplace. He was laid off from the railroad and went to work for a construction company in Maryland. The dump truck he was driving rolled over when he tried to straddle a hill of dirt with the wheels of the truck. Cain jumped out the window on the driver’s side, unfortunately he didn’t jump far enough, the truck rolled onto him, crushing his body. He died instantly. At least that’s what the newspapers reported.”

“What a terrible way to die. It gives me the shivers thinking about it,” Lee said.

“His brother Clay, as we know must still have a lot of connections with all the wrong people including local mafia types.”

“Wait, Kid, did you say he still has connections with the mafia? How can that be? The papers said they rounded up the mafia, put most of them in prison, and ran the rest of them out of town.”

“He spent a few years in jail for his mafia ties in the 1980s. After the new police chief arrived in town they rounded up everyone connected with the mob and put them all in prison.

Since that time there hasn’t been much of a mafia in Bridgetown. Well, at least I don’t think there is. After that interview with the police chief, I’m not so sure,” Miranda said.

“You told me that the black man working at the puritan cleaners at the time of the murder was interviewed,” Lee said. “The police chief also told us he was questioned about the murder. However, he was in Butler, Pennsylvania, the night the murder was committed. The police said they spoke with several people who verified the information. If what the police said can be believed.”

“So far,” Lee said, “we’re getting a lot of responses to the ad, but nothing informative except the first phone call, if that guy can be believed. Will you run Hank Cranston on the Internet to see what you come up with?”

“I’ll Google him.” After a few minutes of searching, she found something. “Okay, here it is. Hank ran a rough bar in a place called Jew Hill. His bar was closed down because he allowed drug pushers and numbers runners to work out of it. He was probably pushing drugs along with the booze. He was a local hood. He’s still alive and is eighty years old. I can’t find anywhere that he was on the local police force.”

“He does sound like a local hood,” Lee said. “I’d be willing to bet that Clay Bliss hung out there a lot. Let’s drive down to Jane’s we need to question her more and find out why she was holding out on us.”

CHAPTER 30

Present Day

J
ane’s office was closed, so Lee decided to get out of the car and walk down the street.

“Where are you going?” Miranda asked, as Lee put the car in park and opened the door.

“I’m going to walk down the street for a couple of blocks to see what I can see,” he said with a smile as he looked at Miranda. “Do you want to come with me?”

“You don’t think I’m going to sit here in this car and wait for you, of course I’m coming with you.”

Lee smirked. “Come on, then. Let’s get going.”

As they walked Lee didn’t talk he was busy looking at the big houses setting up on the hill above the sidewalk.

“What are you looking for, Lee?”

“I don’t know, but when I see it I’ll point it out to you.”

“Oh okay, that helps a lot.”

“Look for anything that doesn’t fit.”

“Okay, now that helps,” Miranda said, as they passed two young men, chatting away on cell phones.

“How about those two? They seem too up to date for this town. They don’t fit,” Miranda said.

“Good eye. Keep looking,” he said. “Look at the contrast between the houses on the north side of the street, and the ones on the south side.”

“Yeah, it looks like the haves and the have-nots. But that isn’t unusual. You see that in any town,” Miranda said.

“I agree. But don’t you think it’s strange that the two guys with the cell phones just turned around and are walking back in our direction? Don’t turn around and look,” Lee said.

Miranda gave a quick glance back. Lee breathed a heavy sigh. “Miranda, don’t you ever listen?”

She smirked. “Maybe they’re listening to what we’re saying. But how are they doing it?”

“Okay, Kid, let’s turn around and start walking back toward them holding their eye contact as we pass.”

The men stopped as Lee and Miranda approached, the good-looking one started to speak. Lee stopped and grabbed Miranda’s arm to stop her as well.

“You folks are strangers around here,” the young guy said. “Can we help you find something?”

Lee shifted his stance. “Oh, thanks anyway. We were just taking in the sites of this charming, old town.”

The two men closed their cell phones, put them in their pockets, and glanced from one side to the other. Then the good-looking one said, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll quit nosing around the Grayson murder. Leave it alone.”

“Hey, fellow, are you threatening me?”

The short one pulled a gun from under his coat and pointed it at Lee.

“It’s not a threat. We’ve warned you enough times, consider this your last warning.”

The stocky one lunged and cracked the gun barrel against the side of Lee’s head. He fell backward onto the sidewalk, blood rolled down his cheek, the two men ran between the houses on the right and disappeared. Miranda started to run after them, then gave up to help Lee.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be alright . . . I think. Wow, he really slugged me. My knees buckled,” he said as Miranda helped him to the car. Standing beside the car, Lee looked around again. Nothing.

“Lee, maybe you’re right. We should forget this. These people, whoever they are, are getting brazen.”

Holding a hanky to the side of his head, Lee looked at Miranda.

“You mean more dangerous than being shot at? They’re not scaring me off. I made a vow to Joan’s memory and I’m sticking with this to the bitter end.”

“Maybe I should take you to the hospital and have your head looked at, it’s bleeding. Do you have a headache?”

“No, no, I’ll be okay, Miranda. Let’s head back to the house.” He handed his keys to her.

“Okay, but I still think I should take you to the hospital.”

Lee opened the car door and slid into the seat. His head was still a little fuzzy, but he could focus so he wasn’t worried.

On the drive back, Miranda was quiet for a change. Lee was taking in the homes and businesses as they drove. Ahead, on the right, was a little amusement park.

“Miranda, is that where Lilly said she first met Bert and he told her his dad owned the park?”

“It is. Look at that merry-go-round.” Miranda pulled the car over to the side of the road so Lee could have a good view of it. “It’s original from the 1800s, as many of the rides are. I keep hoping they’ll sell off some of the horses. I’d like to buy one as a collector’s item. The owners of the park keep updating and refurbishing all the rides instead of selling them off and buying new ones.”

“So this is the park Lilly talks about in the letters?” Lee said.

“Well, yes,” Miranda said. “I did some checking, it was owned by one family from the early 1800s until the 1940s when a local businessman bought it, expanded it, and put in the water park on the other side of the road.”

“I think Bert was trying to empress Lilly. If Lilly lived in Benson, she probably spent a lot of summers at this park as a kid. It would’ve been easy for Bert to meet her here for dates.” He said as he took a deep breath. “Wow, pizza it smells wonderful, they blow that out from the concession stands to make people hungry, it is sure working on me.”

Miranda pulled the car back onto the road and pointed it toward home.

Back at the mansion, Miranda started working on the computer digging out information on the people in Lillie’s letters. Lee sat in the chair next to her holding an icepack on his head.

“One thing I’m sure of, Miranda—I’m not dropping this investigation. I’ve put too much time and effort into it to stop now because some thug took a whacked at me. It’ll take more than that to stop this research project.”

“Okay, then, if you’re sure. I wouldn’t stand in your way.”

“Kid, it’s odd that Lilly waited three years before writing the next letter to Elizabeth?”

“I wondered about that myself. Maybe she did write others, but Elizabeth and Jane only kept these letters.”

“Yes, but she also said she spent a year crying over Bert’s death. We don’t know how long she was in the hospital,” he said.

The buzzer rang. When Miranda opened the front door a red-eyed, nervous, well dressed older gentleman stood in the threshold holding his hat in his hand.

“Hello, may I help you?”

Lee stepped to the door beside Miranda. The man didn’t acknowledge him. He shifted from foot to foot, twisting his scarf in his free hand.

“Nice Bentley, beautiful emerald green,” Lee said.

“Yes, well, I’m not here to discuss my car or talk with you. I’m here to see Miranda.” He said looking Lee in the eyes this time and nodding.

“Alright then,” Lee said.

“I won’t give my name. I’m too well known in Bridgetown.”

“Really, I don’t know you,” Miranda said.

“That’s probably because we run in different circles. But I do know who you are.”

“Okay then what is it you want?”

“I have some information to tell you and I hope it will help you solve this long forgotten murder that took place here many years ago.”

“Would you like to come in? It’s cold out there.”

“No, thank you. I won’t be here long.”

“Okay, what is it you have to say? Miranda said.

“I’m sure you don’t know about a group of people in this town who have tried to hide the facts of this murder and the person who did it. I’m a retired Bridgetown city policeman. I worked on the railroad until 1950 when I joined the police department. I wasn’t assigned to help work Bert’s murder case, but I think I know who killed him.”

Miranda interrupted him. “Oh. What did the detectives assigned to the case say when you told them you knew who did it?”

“They said they would look into it, but I don’t think they ever did. Now, may I continue with my story?”

“Oh, sorry. Go ahead,”

“The night of the murder I was on patrol with another officer. We were called to a traffic accident at 17th Street and Margaret Avenue. Before we arrived, the man who rear-ended the car parked at the light had fled on foot, leaving his vehicle behind at the scene. When we ran the license number, we traced it to a family by the name of Backers who lived on Chestnut Avenue two doors down from where Bert’s body was found.”

“Sorry to interrupt you again, but did you say the police said they checked into this guy?” Miranda said.

“Yes. The next day I asked a detective about it and he told me it wasn’t my concern. He said I was to forget about it. Now, back to the story,” he put his hat on.

“We impounded the car and went to the Backers’ house. When we arrived at the door a woman answered our knock, we inquired if she owned this certain Ford she said yes, it was parked behind Jim’s Hot Dog Diner. We told her no, it was impounded because it was just involved in a hit and run accident on 17th Street.”

“So, you’re saying she didn’t know he had taken her car and used it? Sorry for the interruption again,” Miranda said.

“That’s right, she didn’t believe us. She told her son, Billy, to go upstairs and get the keys to her car. When the boy came back he said the keys were missing. She also told us she had a boarder who lived in a room upstairs who wasn’t at home at the time.”

“Isn’t it strange that she parked the car behind the diner?”

“Look, lady, if you keep interrupting me, I’m never going to get through this story.”

Lee looked at Miranda with a smirked.

“Sorry, I’ll try not to do that again. No promises though.”

“Early the next morning after the murder, the detectives working the case got a tip to check out this boarder. When they knocked on his door, a large, burly fellow who had a couple of red strawberry marks on his forehead opened the door. They were the kind of marks you’d get from bashing your head into the windshield of a car. This man also matched the description of one of the men last seen with Bert at the hot dog diner earlier that night. I theorize that this fellow, his name is Will Pink, killed Bert, then stole the Backers’ car, and was involved in the accident while fleeing from the scene of the murder. He was also linked to the murder of Mr. Merritt.”

“Go on, sir. Do you have more to say?” Miranda asked.

“No, I’m done. Please don’t try to contact me. I’m not interested in talking to you again. I’ve told you everything I know. That should be enough. But I have two words of advice for you: Be careful.” With that he turned and walked to his car and drove off.

“Isn’t that interesting,” Lee said. “Mr. Merritt popped up again. He certainly got around. He’s like an apparition—everyone seems to know him, but no one knows anything about him. He flows in and out of people’s lives,” Lee said, as he walked to the sofa and took a seat.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look pale.”

“I’m okay, Miranda, but thanks for your concern.”

“See, I do have a heart,” she said.

“He didn’t give a description of this man with the head injury other than he was large and burly fitting the description of one of the men who left the hot dog diner with Bert.”

“I’m typing in Will Pink right now,” Miranda said.

“Hope we get lucky.”

“I can’t find anyone by that name in that time period. There’s no accident report in the police records or in the newspaper, maybe this guy is just a nut.”

“Kid, didn’t we look up this Merritt guy? It’s strange that so many people mentioned him.”

“We did look him up and couldn’t find any information about him either. And yes, it’s interesting everyone mentions him.”

                               
CHAPTER 31

                                        Present Day

H
is phone chirped.

“Hello, this is Lee.”

“Hello, my name is Harry Winston.” Lee hit the speaker-phone button.

“I was a patrol officer for the Bridgetown Police Department the night of the Grayson murder.”

“Yes, Harry. What do you want to tell me?”

Harry continued his story. “I wanted to know if you learned anything new about the murder.”

“We haven’t learned anything more than what was in the papers, Harry. So what do you want to tell me?”

“It started snowing about ten that night. At about twelve fifteen A.M. we got a call from the dispatcher. I was with another officer. We always patrolled with two men on duty for protection. The dispatcher said they were receiving calls that there were loud noises coming from the alley behind 30 Chestnut Avenue. When we arrived on the scene about 12:30 A.M., we pulled the car up at the end of the dark alley, got out and walked with flashlights toward the address. With the moonlight reflecting off the snow we could see a man sitting in the snow leaning against the wooden fence. It looked like he was sleeping, and getting covered with snow that was falling heavy and wet. We were afraid he was going to freeze, so we went over to the man, and when we turned our flashlights on him, we could see blood everywhere, on him and in the snow. It scared me pretty good. I dropped my flashlight, backing away from the body as fast as I could, it took a few minutes to get control of my senses then I picked my light up and brushed the bloody snow off of it. Telling you what I saw still makes my heart race.”