“That would be Mr. Simmons. Let me see if he’s available.”
After a brief conversation, she said. “Mr. Simmons can see you. Take the elevator to the third floor. His office is 303.”
I knocked and a pleasant voice said, “Come in.”
Simmons was an elderly gent, not as old as me but close. He motioned me to a chair.
“I’m Harvey Simmons. I don’t get many visitors up here. How may I help you?”
I had decided that rather than play games, I would be right up front about what I was looking for.
“I’m Walter Williams and I’m a private investigator.”
I saw the look of concern register on his face. Maybe I had been too direct.
“Don’t worry. I’m not investigating your company, at least not directly. I’m actually looking for some information about one of the companies you acquired several years ago.”
“What company and what kind of information?” he asked, obviously still concerned.
“Monarch Trucking Company,” I replied. “I’m actually trying to locate one of Monarch’s drivers for a client of mine.”
He seemed to relax a bit. “Monarch. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. If memory serves we bought that firm sometime in the seventies.”
“1972, if Google is correct.”
“That sounds about right. I’m intrigued. What’s so important about this driver?”
Here it was again. I had to tell Simmons something without telling him too much.
“The driver was my client’s father. He mysteriously disappeared after one of his runs to Minnesota, and we were hoping that the company’s log might give us a clue to his disappearance.”
“I see. Hmmm, I hope we still have Monarch’s files in storage. There gets to be so much. We’ve shredded hundreds of boxes of documents.”
My heart sunk.
“Let me see what I can find,” he said, tapping his computer.
“You may be in luck. I show an inventory of forty boxes of Monarch material in our warehouse. Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. I’ll get you a visitor’s pass and take you to the warehouse.”
The warehouse was made of sheet metal with ten foot high ceilings. Along each wall were metal shelves with boxes stacked floor to ceiling. I noticed right away that there was no heat, or if there was, it was turned down very low. It was cold enough I could see my breath.
As we walked along the aisle, there were signs on the shelving that bore the names of different trucking companies, Cross Town Trucking, Brown’s Cartage, etc.
Near the end of the aisle, we spotted the sign bearing the name, Monarch Trucking.
“Here you go,” Simmons said. “Just put things back the way you found them. If you find what you’re looking for today, return your visitor’s pass to the front reception area. If you need another day, just hang onto it. Good luck!”
I decided I would start at the top while I was still fresh and work my way down. I spotted a step ladder and climbed to the highest box.
When I pulled it out, a layer of dust filled the air and I nearly choked. Based on the quantity of dust that filled my lungs, I figured nobody had been in the boxes since they were placed there in 1972.
I soon discovered there was no rhyme or reason as to how the boxes were packed. It looked as though someone had been instructed to box up whatever was in Monarch’s office and they just started stuffing whatever they could find. One box had a few delivery logs interspersed with bundles of cancelled checks. I was going to have to go through every box.
When the light started to fade, I checked my watch. It was almost five o’clock. I decided to call it a day.
When I walked in the door, Maggie greeted me and her first words were, “Ewwwww! You stink and you look like Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoon.”
Just what a guy wants to hear.
After a long, hot shower, I told Maggie what I had been doing all day while we shared a pizza she had ordered.
“I can certainly relate to her wanting to know about her father,” Maggie said. “When I found out I wasn’t really a McBride, I just couldn’t rest until I knew who I was. I hope you can help her.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Bright and early the next morning, I was back to the dusty boxes.
What I found was that the boxes that contained logs of actual trips had file folders with dates on the tabs.
Since the company had been in business for thirty-two years, there were hundreds of file folders. It was a matter of looking at each one until I found the one with the date, December 5, 1943.
I felt a buzz of excitement when I opened a box and saw the first date was December 1, 1943. Four files later, I found the one I was looking for.
I opened the file and it contained maybe a dozen trips that had been taken that day. I looked at each one until I found the one with that read, ‘Kansas City to The Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minnesota. Cargo – Medical supplies.’
I’m sure my heart skipped a beat and I nearly fainted when I read the next entry. ‘Driver – John Williams.’
Johnny Butterfly was my father!
When I recovered from my shock, I carefully folded the trip log and slipped it in my pocket. I put all the boxes back where they belonged, stowed the ladder and dropped my visitor’s tag at the reception desk.
It wasn’t until I was halfway home that it occurred to me that I had swiped Global Trucking property. Then my rationalization kicked in and I told myself that no one had been in those boxes since 1972 and that someday all of it would be shredded anyway. Justifying my questionable behavior seemed to be getting easier.
As I drove, I tried to decide the proper way to proceed. I concluded that Dr. Crane was my client and she deserved to have the information first. I called and asked her to be at my office in an hour. That would give me time to shower and change clothes.
Maggie had slept in. She had no clients to work with so she decided to take a day of rest. She was surprised that I was back so soon.
“You must have found something,” she said, obviously excited.
I nodded.
“Well don’t just stand there. Tell me!”
“Maybe later. Dr. Crane is coming over and I just have enough time to shower and clean up.”
“Walter Williams, I know when you’re hiding something from me. Now spill it!”
“Okay, how’s this? I found her father. His name is John Williams. My dad is Johnny Butterfly!”
Her mouth dropped open and I left her slumped in a chair, dumbfounded, trying to process what I had just told her.
I had just dressed and combed my hair when there was a knock on the door.
Maggie had opened the door for Dr. Crane, but I could see she was still in a daze from the bomb I had dropped in her lap.
I escorted the doctor into my office and closed the door. I had no doubts that Maggie would soon sneak up to listen.
When we were seated, Dr. Crane looked at me expectantly. “I hope you’ve called me here because you have some news.”
I nodded. “I do indeed. I’m just not sure how to break it to you.”
“You found my father! Is he dead? Don’t be afraid to tell me. I was expecting that.”
“No, actually, he’s very much alive.”
“Really! How exciting. Where does he live? Is it far away?”
“No, as a matter of fact, it’s very close.”
“Please! Quit teasing. Who is my father?”
I took a deep breath. “His name is John Williams.”
I paused as I let the name sink in.
“Williams? Surely you don’t mean --- ?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. We have the same father. It looks like I’m your half-brother.”
It was a good thing she was sitting down.
“But how?”
“Let me tell you about my dad. As you know, he was an over-the-road trucker. He was a good man, a good provider, but he was seldom home. Mom practically r
aised me on her own. When she died, Dad and I drifted apart and I hadn’t seen him for years. Then one day, about four years ago, I got a call from a retirement home in Arizona. He was being kicked out.”
“My goodness! What for?”
“Lascivious behavior. You have to understand something about our father. He is really a good person, but he has one flaw that has plagued him all his life. He is an incurable romantic and he can’t keep it in his pants.”
“Oh dear!”
“He has been living here with me since he was booted out of Shady Rest and I have to tell you, he has been a model father.”
“So he’s living --- here?”
“Right downstairs. Would you like to meet him?”
She didn’t respond.
“I know. It’s a lot to process.”
“You have no idea. A month ago, I was totally alone with no family or relatives of any kind, and now I discover I not only have two nephews, but a half-brother and a father as well.”
I figured I might as well tell her the whole story. “Actually, you have two half-brothers.”
“Two?”
“Yes. Your mother was a one night thing, and I mean that in the nicest way, but Dad also made regular trips to the west coast. He had another young woman way out in western Kansas somewhere that he visited on a regular basis. She also became pregnant, but Dad was transferred to another route and never knew. One day, a man came to my door and introduced himself as my half-brother. I won’t go into all the details right now, but he had a very important and personal reason for looking me up. We’ve become very good friends.”
“Don’t tell me he lives here too.”
“No, Mark Davenport works for Homeland Security in Washington. He pops into town every once in a while. I’ll let you know so you can meet him.”
“Now, back to your question. Yes, I definitely want to meet the man who saved my mother from freezing and swept her off her feet, but maybe not right this minute. I was thinking that Billy Bob and Oren should meet him too. After all, he’s their step-grandfather.”
I hadn’t thought of that. It was hard to picture Dad as a grandpa.
“Do you think you could arrange something, say, two days from now? If so, I’ll talk to my nephews and set it up.”
“I don’t see why not. It should be quite an experience.”
I made arrangements for Dad to come by my apartment after supper on Sunday. Dr. Crane and her nephews arrived a half hour ahead of him and were comfortably seated in our living room when Dad knocked on the door.
I figured Bernice, his current, and hopefully last love interest, would accompany him and I wasn’t disappointed. She had been present when Dad was introduced to Mark Davenport for the first time. I saw no reason why she shouldn’t share this moment of revelation as well.
Dad was, of course, shocked when he saw three strangers rise to greet him.
“You’re full of surprises, Son. You neglected to tell me this was a party.”
“It’s not exactly a party, Dad. These are just some folks that I thought you should meet. This is Dr. Elizabeth Crane and these are her nephews, Billy Bob and Oren Thrasher.”
“Did you say, Dr. Crane?” Dad asked with genuine concern. “Are you sick?”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
“Maggie? Is she okay?”
“I’m fine Dad,” Maggie said, bringing in a plate of cookies. “What would everyone like to drink? I have tea, coffee and water.”
After Dad and Bernice were seated and Maggie had taken our drink requests, I handed Dad Chloe Fisher’s diary opened to the page where she talked about being stranded and rescued by a young, handsome trucker.
“I’d like you to read the next couple of pages and then we’ll talk about why we’re all here tonight.”
As soon as Dad started reading, I saw the breath catch in his throat and watched him struggle to hold back the tears. When he was finished, he closed the diary and handed it to me.
“I remember that night like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful experience with a beautiful young woman. I have no regrets and I’d do it all over again if I had the chance. I’ve thought of Chloe so many times over the years and wondered what happened to her. I never knew she remembered me as Johnny Butterfly.”
Dr. Crane addressed Dad for the first time. “Maybe I can shed some light on what happened to Chloe Fisher after your night together. A few weeks later, she discovered she was pregnant and nine months later she gave birth to a daughter --- your daughter, John.”
She took Dad’s hand. “For seventy years, I believed Terrence Thrasher was my father, then suddenly I discovered that my real father was the mysterious Johnny Butterfly. Ever since, I’ve been anxiously waiting to meet my biological father and meet the man that saved my mother’s life on that cold, snowy night. It’s an honor to finally meet you, Dad.”
My father was speechless. A rarity for him.
“She never forgot you, John,” Dr. Crane said, pulling the jewelry box with the inlaid butterfly from her bag. “I also found this after going through more of her things,” she said, holding up a thin necklace with a tiny gold butterfly. “She never forgot her Johnny Butterfly.”
She placed the jewelry box and the necklace in Dad’s hands.
“I --- I don’t know what to say,” he said, caressing the butterfly inlay, “except I’m sorry I didn’t know about you. So sorry I couldn’t have been more a part of you and your mother’s life.”
“Which is probably a good thing,” I replied, “since you already had Mom and me back here in Kansas City and Mark and his mother somewhere out in Kansas.”
I could see Dad bristle. “I know I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life. I wasn’t the best husband and father, but I have no regrets. That’s just who I was and I’ll treasure each of those memories until the day I die.”
Bernice had been silent up till now. “You’re an incurable romantic, John Williams. That’s why I love you. I’m just wondering though, if there are any more surprises waiting for you out there.”
“You never know,” he replied with a wink. Then a thought struck him. “I’ve fathered three children. One is a successful realtor and decorated police veteran, another is a director at Homeland Security and the third is a doctor. I think that definitely says something about my parenting skills.”
“Either that,” I replied, “or it lends truth to the old saying, ‘if you can’t be a good parent, you can at least be a bad example.’”
“Either way,” he said, “I proud of the way you all turned out.” He motioned to Billy Bob and Oren. “Exactly how do these guys fit into the picture?”
“My mother married Terrence Thrasher and had one son, Gabe. These are Gabe’s sons --- your grandsons --- well, half grandsons.”
“Well I’ll be damned!” Dad said. “Never thought I’d be a grandpa. Walt screwed that pooch by not having any kids. What do you boys do?”
“We just started our own cleaning company,” Billy Bob replied proudly. “We’re looking for new clients if you know of anyone.”
“I just might,” I said. “Are you boys familiar with the Three Trails Hotel on Linwood? It’s just a few blocks from your apartment.”
Both Mary and Willie were getting up in years and I figured it was about time to relieve them of the responsibilities of cleaning and mowing. Mary could still keep the place rented and under control and Willie could still do the minor repairs.
Billy Bob and Oren exchanged glances. “Well sure. Everybody on Linwood knows about that dump. It’s full of old crazies and mopes working out of the labor pool. Weird stuff is always happening over there. I’ve heard that the old lady that runs the place has whacked a couple of people, some statue that was stolen from the King Tut exhibit was found in the basement, and just a couple of weeks ago, the place was shot up by a car full of black gang-bangers.”
I wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed. Everything Billy Bob said was true.
“I --- uhhh --- own t
he place, and let me assure you that there is a reasonable explanation for all those events. Anyway, are you interested in the job or not?”
They whispered for a minute. “We’ll take it, but it’s going to cost you big time. Think of it as hazardous duty pay.”
I expected nothing less. I knew that as long as Mr. Feeney was there defiling the bathrooms, they would be earning every penny.
The rest of the evening was spent getting to know one another and exchanging life stories. Dr. Crane said she would leave Chloe’s diary with Dad so he could read about her life. All in all, it was a great success.
CHAPTER 17
It didn’t take long for word to get around the building that my father had sired another child out of wedlock.
Naturally, Jerry couldn’t let such an event slip away without adding his two cent’s worth.
He latched on to the old 1950’s Daniel Boone ditty:
Daniel Boone was the daddy of them all
From the mountains to Ohio.
Daniel Boone heard the western prairie call
From the mountains to the Ohio.
Soon, we heard his voice echoing through the hallways:
Johnny Williams was the daddy of them all
From the mountains to the Ohio.
Johnny Williams heard his secret lover’s call
From the mountains to the Ohio.
The Professor declared that Dad’s exploits were extraordinary and he should consider writing his memoirs. Jerry said the title could be Fifty Shades of a Grey Haired Old Man.
Willie, when hearing the news, just shook his head. “Yo daddy is like de ole lady what lived in a shoe and had so many kids she didn’ know what to do. What he shoulda done was go into de truck stop bathroom and put fifty cents in one o’ dem latex machines.”
In one sense, he was right, but if Dad had done that, there would be no Mark Davenport and no Elizabeth Crane, and the world would have lost two good people.
Dad had certainly spent his life on the dark side of fatherhood, and yet, things had worked out pretty well for all concerned.
Lady Justice on the Dark Side (Volume 19) Page 12
