When the Dead Speak

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Jake rubbed his eyes, downed two aspirins, and waited for Janet to close the door to Sam's office. Sleep had been anything but restful. The scene from the whirlpool had played havoc with his sleep. To avoid Sam, he had met Frank for breakfast.

Janet put through the call from Sheila Ames, the daughter of Leonard Ames who had served with Preston in Korea, and died in an accident in 1976. Once Jake introduced himself, he explained the Hap Wilson case and how her father might have met him in Korea.

"I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you. I've been out of town. But, Korea. Detective, that was so long ago and Daddy died more than twenty years ago." Her voice had a slight southern accent and was unusually high-pitched, as if she were a fragile, petite woman.

"Did you have a chance to look at the photo I faxed you this morning?" It was a picture of Hap Wilson.

"Yes, I did. Unfortunately, his picture means nothing to me. I did go through the box of Daddy's things in the attic as your fax had suggested."

Jake could hear thumping in the phone as though she were tossing things back into the box.

"There are a lot of letters," Sheila explained. "It would take me a long time to read through them again."

"I'm more interested in the pin." Along with Hap's photo, Jake had faxed a picture of the lightning bolt pin.

Jake looked up. Through the glass window he saw Frank wave. Frank was on his way to South Holland to speak with Amos Washington, the Korean War veteran who was the grandfather of one of Claudia Travis's students.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Detective. To my knowledge, Daddy never owned such a pin. It's not in the box with his medals. He never wore jewelry so he didn't have a jewelry box."

Jake could hear papers rustling. "What about your mother? Would she possibly know?"

"She died five years ago. I remember her telling me that Daddy had a lot of bad dreams after the war. She couldn't do much for him. He was despondent most of the time. She remembered him being so fun-loving before the war. She told me he was always cracking jokes. That's what she loved about him, his sense of humor. But when he came back from the war, he didn't bring his humor back with him. She said it got progressively worse. Especially a couple days before he drove his car over the ravine."

Jake hesitated, not sure he heard her correctly. "Are you saying your father committed suicide?"

"Here it is." The rustling of papers could be heard again. "Yes," she replied. "Didn't you know? There weren't any skid marks. It was a dry, December day, no ice. No sign of brake problems. His car just drove right off the cliff."

"I'm sorry to bring up such painful memories."

"It's okay. Like I said, Detective Mitchell, it's been a long time. Now, I found Daddy's desk calendar. I was only in high school at the time he died," Sheila explained. "He kept his appointments in here."

"Did he ever see a doctor for his sleep disorder?"

"Like a shrink? No. Daddy never went to a doctor."

"Did he have any close friends he might have confided in?"

"As I recall, my mother said he became sullen, absorbed himself in his work." She spent several seconds locating the date in the calendar book. "Okay, Daddy died on December 23, right before Christmas. On December 22, he has the time of five-thirty in the evening circled and Columbus Park written on it."

"Columbus Park?"

"It's just a local park by the court house. I'm not sure of the significance of the time."

"What about the previous days?"

"I'm checking." After a few seconds, Sheila gasped, "Oh, my."

"What?"

"He drew it right on the section marked December 21. It's that shape, the shape of the pin."