Farraday Road

by Ace Collins

  “Would you say he was retarded? ” she asked.

  “In some ways, I guess,” Hall admitted, “but in other ways he was a genius. He could do anything with computers, cameras, clocks. You should see the photographs he took. They were like something out of National Geographic. He took pictures of everyone and everything around here. And the decade before he died he got into video. Had several cameras and he shot everything that happened.”

  “So everyone knew he was good,” she said.

  “Sure did. If your kid had a great basketball game, Moony caught it and then went back to his house and edited it. He would even put it on a DVD and give it to you. He did that for folks who sang specials in church or were in local car shows and just about everything else. He even filmed a lot of the local musicians and made DVDs that they sold at shows. And if there were two things going on at once, he would set up what he called a slave camera. He’d video one event while he was at another. You want some coffee or something?”

  “No, we don’t have much time,” Curtis said. She smiled.

  “Anyway, while Moony wasn’t very good at reading and writing, he was amazing in a few things that the rest of us didn’t know much about. And he was always so happy. Never saw him without a smile. That’s why it was such a shock when he killed himself.”

  Hall’s brown eyes took on a far-off look. “I have a DVD of my daughter’s graduation. She spoke that night. Moony caught it all and it looked so professional. Jessica died a few weeks later in a car accident. You have no idea what that DVD has meant to my wife and me over the years.”

  Dean used Moony to videotape his conversations with Jennings, Curtis remembered. Was it something he caught with his camera that got him killed? Where were the tapes now? “Chief, why did you think Moony committed suicide?”

  “Well, no one had seen him in a couple of days. Let me see, this would have been two years ago. I guess I should’ve noticed earlier, but I was all tied up with the Micah Dean case. Anyway, when he didn’t come around, we got concerned. I knocked on his door, and when I didn’t get an answer, I forced the lock. He was sitting in his chair in the living room, a gun in his hand and a bullet in his head. There was a note printed out—guess he had written it on his computer—and it gave his reasons. I’ve got the note here somewhere.” The chief rolled his chair over to a filing cabinet, opened a drawer, and leafed through the folders. “Here it is.” He glanced at it and handed the note to Curtis.

  She read it and handed it to Lije. He studied the words they both knew were penned by someone else: “I am just too sad to go on. My life is meaningless. I am very lonely and I want to be with my mother.”

  Curtis looked back at Hall. “What did you think when you read the note?”

  “Well, Diana, I thought, what a waste. What more could I think?The whole town felt the same way. If we’d known he was that lonely, we would’ve done something. We all felt guilty about it.”

  Lije glanced over at Curtis, but she gave him a look that told him she wanted him to keep quiet. Off the record or not, she was intent on taking the questions according to the game plan she had witnessed Hillman use countless times. She was going to push, but she was going to make sure Hall didn’t realize he was being pushed.

  “So I take it he had no enemies?”

  “None.”

  “What about the site where he died?”

  “His little mobile home. It hasn’t been touched since I found him, other than cleaning up the blood. His closest kin is in New York and they still haven’t come to claim the estate, what little there is. The town’s just sort of left well enough alone. Don’t think anybody’s even been in the place lately.”

  “Can you show it to us? ” she asked.

  “Sure. Got the keys right here in the folder. Appears it’ll be your case now,” the chief said, getting up from his desk.

  CURTIS DONNED HER GLOVES AND BEGAN EXAMINING the modest four-room trailer that had been home to Moony Rivers. The musty smell that engulfed them after the police chief unlocked the door had made it clear that no one had been inside for a long time. By habit she flipped a light switch and was surprised the power was still on.

  “I thought the REA would have cut that off,” Hall said. “Maybe because there was nothing using power, they just didn’t notice. Guess the meter reader thought it was off too or he’d have had them cut the power. I’ll have to alert the office.”

  After looking around, Curtis asked, “Was he always this messy?”

  “Yeah. He usually just stacked stuff in places, but he knew where everything was.”

  “Did he keep copies of the DVDs he gave to other people? Like the video you got?”

  “Oh, yeah, he did that in case someone lost their copy or their DVD got scratched. A lot of us ended up asking him for a second or third copy to give to relatives.”

  Curtis studied the living room. It was what she didn’t see that bothered her. No matter where she looked, there didn’t seem to be any tapes or DVDs. “Do you know where he kept the copies?”

  “Sure,” the chief replied, “I watched him pull them out of the filing cabinets over there. He kept them in order by date. Had them in sleeves in notebooks. So if you knew the date something happened, he could find his copy of it just like that. He then took it over to the DVD burner and made you a copy.”

  Curtis moved to the far wall. Beside the computer desk were two four-drawer file cabinets. Starting at the one closest to the desk, she opened the top drawer. Empty. One by one she looked in the other seven. They were all empty. Glancing back at Lije and Hall, she said, “I want the two of you to put on some gloves and see if we can find any DVDs or videotapes. There’s nothing in these file drawers. No DVDs. No notebooks.”

  The three worked for an hour. After every cushion had been squeezed, every drawer opened, and every closet checked, they met back in the tiny living room. It was Hall who stated the obvious. “Someone’s taken every video and DVD in this place.”

  “They got even more,” Lije said. “I fired up his computer. No files. It’s been wiped clean. And I didn’t find a single external hard drive.”

  Curtis nodded. She now had a motive for murder. Someone wanted to make sure that something Moony filmed was never seen again.

  “Chief, are you sure no locals came in and took his stuff? Part of the investigation?”

  “There was no evidence taken from here but the gun and the bullet. Sent those to the ABI long ago. I’ve got the only set of keys, and you can see that no one broke in.”

  She sat down at the desk and went back through the drawers. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She found a few coins, some baseball cards, and several hundred dollars in bills. It wasn’t a robbery gone bad.

  Barton knew something about this case that he was hiding. One call might give her the answer, but making that call was not possible.

  Turning back to the chief, she said, “Did Rivers have much money in his savings or checking accounts?”

  “Are you kidding? ” The chief laughed. “He didn’t even have a bank account. He lived on Social Security, his late mother’s pension, and what he could make mowing a few lawns. But I guess that was enough to get by. Some folks gave him money to buy computer and video equipment and everyone gave him clothes and groceries, so he didn’t need much money to live.”

  After taking a final look around the room, Curtis pulled off her gloves. “Did you find any guns other than the one you sent to our lab for testing?”

  “Naw. We didn’t even know he had that one. He was never a violent man.”

  She got up from the desk. “You said he didn’t have a bank account.”

  “Didn’t trust them,” Hall explained.

  “I found only a few hundred dollars here,” she pointed out. “So when he cashed his checks, where did he put his cash?”

  The chief shrugged, “I honestly don’t know, but you might talk to the folks at the lumberyard.”

  “Why the lumberyard?”

  “Moony
’s father worked at Hunter Lumber for many years. The old man was almost as strange as his son. He kept his valuables, the few he had, in the company safe. Maybe Moony did the same thing. Listen, I hate to rush you, but I need to get back to the office. I have a staff meeting in a few minutes, but you could go over and talk to Bob Hunter. I know he’d be happy to help you.”

  They returned to the station, said their goodbyes, and walked over to their car. Hall raced back out of the police station and hollered in their direction.

  “Diana, be sure and give my regards to your boss.”

  She was shocked by the request. “You know Barton?”

  “Sure, he’s been a great help down here. His contacts have gotten us a lot of state and federal money. Some big projects. We owe him.”

  “Really? ” Lije chimed in. “Why does Hillman show such favor to Mountain View?”

  Hall laughed. “I figured you knew our district attorney is his brother-in-law. So give him our best!”

  Martin Gooch. Hillman’s brother-in-law. Gooch prosecuted Jonathon Jennings in Dean’s murder. He had gotten a lot of state press for the way he had handled the case. That spotlight had made him the darling of the “law and order, crime and tough punishment” set. In fact, the Jennings case was the springboard that Gooch used to launch his current run for governor.

  Curtis waved. “Sure, chief. Oh, and if you will, don’t tell anyone, including the D. A. or even my boss about our meeting. Barton told me to keep this thing quiet. If you mention it to him, he’ll come down hard on me. Might even hold it against you too!”

  “I understand.” He waved as he stepped back into the station. Sliding into the car, Curtis glanced over at Lije.

  “So what do you think? ” Lije asked.

  “I think I’m glad Barton doesn’t know we’re here. But I also figure he’ll find out soon. If he’s trying to cover something for Gooch, we’d better move quickly. Let’s get to the lumberyard.”

  CURTIS DROVE THE FEW BLOCKS THAT MADE UP THE city’s main drag. Her mind raced to connect what they knew—what Mabel Dean had told Lije, what the lab had reported on the death of Moony Rivers, and what she had seen at Moony’s home. She now had serious doubts about the case against Jameson. Still, she wasn’t ready to let Lije know about her taking a step onto the conspiracy bandwagon. Not yet. There had to be another reason. Maybe at Hunter Lumber she’d find the answer.

  Robert Hunter, a heavyset, jolly-looking man, appeared to be in his late thirties. He met them on the showroom floor. After the introductions, the third-generation owner led the two back to his private office. Curtis took a seat, placing her CSI kit beside her chair, while Lije walked over to look at a series of black-and-white photos hanging on the far wall.

  “I had those matted and framed a few years back,” Hunter explained. “As you can see from the ones taken the first few years of operation, this place hasn’t changed much. We’ve been fortunate. We’re far enough away from a city of any size that we’ve not had to compete with the big chains like Lowes and Home Depot.”

  He looked at Curtis. “Now what kind of questions would someone from the ABI have for me? I hope I didn’t accidentally do something that’ll send me to the big house.”

  Curtis accommodated him with a laugh. “No, you’re fine. I’m here on an old case. This shouldn’t take long at all. I don’t want to waste your time. I understand you knew Moony Rivers pretty well.”

  “Better than pretty well. We were almost raised together. His father worked for my father and we practically grew up in the lumberyard. I guess he kind of looked at me like I was a brother. In fact, I was the one who convinced Luke Hall to kick in the door and check on him. What he found still chills me to the bone. I just can’t believe, even now, that he would take his own life. For the past two years, I have sat in church and worried that suicide is unforgivable. Hard for me to think of a man like that making one irrational mistake and ending up in hell.”

  Lije moved over to an empty chair beside Curtis. “Mr. Hunter, I don’t know much about theology, but the more I do my job, the more obvious it seems that there are forces of good and evil on this earth. From what I’ve heard about your friend, his heart was evidently filled with goodness. That goodness had to come from somewhere other than hell.”

  Hunter shook his head. “Thank you. I’m sure you’re right, but I’ve never had such doubts as I do now. Something like this shakes you. I could’ve accepted an accident, maybe even murder. But suicide?That really unsettled my world. Just didn’t fit his personality. Or maybe I didn’t know him very well. The other thing that eats at me. I feel like I let him down. Maybe I should’ve checked on him more often.”

  “Mr. Hunter,” Curtis said, trying to bring the meeting back on track, “Chief Hall said Moony didn’t like banks.”

  Hunter nodded. “Not to keep money in, anyway. He didn’t mind them cashing his checks, but what he didn’t keep he always brought over here. See that antique safe in the corner? It was manufactured by the Meilink Safe Company in the early 1900s.”

  Curtis glanced at the black iron safe. With its brass handle and combination lock, it would have made a perfect prop for a movie set in the days of stagecoaches and outlaws, but it looked out of place in today’s world.

  “You still use it?”

  “Actually, no. It’s here for decoration. Too heavy to move anywhere else. About the only time I opened it was when Moony wanted to store his stuff. Then I would spin the wheel and leave the room while he put whatever he felt was valuable in an old shoe box he kept on the bottom shelf.”

  “Are his belongings still in there? ” Curtis asked.

  “Haven’t opened it since he died. Figured it was best to just leave the box in the safe until his family claims his things.”

  Curtis walked over to the old safe. She studied it carefully. A thick layer of dust covered the top of the old unit. She couldn’t believe she had gotten lucky for a second time in one day. No one runs into virgin evidence this old. She turned to face her host. “Are you sure you haven’t opened it in two years?”

  “No reason to. All I keep in it are some historical documents and photographs. Keep them in the safe just in case of a fire. Have had no reason to look at them.”

  Curtis picked up her kit from the floor, unlatched the top, and retrieved a spray bottle. As the two men watched, she spent several minutes going over the front, sides, and top of the safe. “Not a single print. At some point since the last time it was opened, the front of this thing has been thoroughly cleaned.”

  “That’s strange,” Hunter said. “I mean, that’s impossible. I promise it has been years since I dusted anything in here except my desk. If you don’t believe me, take a look at the book shelves.”

  “I’m not saying you cleaned it,” Curtis said, “just pointing out that someone did. Can you open it for me?”

  Hunter went over to the safe. After a few spins of the dial, he flipped the handle and pulled on the heavy iron door. It slowly swung open to reveal a few stacks of photos, some yellowed papers, and a pocket watch. There was no shoe box on the bottom shelf.

  “Well, I’ll say!” Hunter exclaimed as he reached down toward the empty shelf.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Curtis warned.

  “It was right there. I walked back in just as he was putting the box back, then he closed the door. It was the day he died. No one knows the combination but me. I was in here when he closed it, I swear!”

  “Mr. Hunter,” Curtis said, “without touching anything, can you tell if anything else is missing?”

  He quickly scanned the rest of the items. “No, looks like it’s all here. The only thing gone is the box.”

  “Do you have any idea what was in the box?”

  “I never looked, but I know he had a few old baseball cards, some cash. Knowing how little he got from Social Security, it couldn’t have been much. And some family photographs. Other than that, only Moony knew. He never told me what he put in and I never asked.”


  Curtis found what she assumed were only two sets of prints. The ones belonging to the owner and the other set belonging to Moony.

  “Mr. Hunter, I’m going to close the safe. I’d like for you not to touch it. I may send a team down from the lab to go over it in greater detail. I also don’t want you to tell anyone what we’ve just discovered here. Not even your wife, the chief of police, or the district attorney. In other words, we haven’t been here. Do you understand?”

  “No problem,” he replied. “So someone broke in just to steal the things that Moony thought were valuable?”

  Curtis nodded. “That’s the way it looks. Thank you for your help.”

  “I still can’t believe he would kill himself,” Hunter mumbled as they made their way out of the lumberyard.

  Back in the car, Curtis drove out of Mountain View so absorbed by what she had unearthed there that she was oblivious to the fact she had a passenger.

  LIJE RODE IN SILENCE. HE WAS TRYING TO PIECE together some kind of connection between three dramatically different crimes. Nothing he came up with fit a pattern. Even as he flipped the pieces in every direction, nothing seemed to fit.

  “You hungry? ” Curtis asked as they rolled into Melbourne.

  “Been that way for three hours or more.”

  “I don’t want anything fancy, just a burger or something, but I do want to get out of the car. What do you suggest?”

  “Well, the diner would be the place most folks would pick,” Lije offered, “but I don’t have any ambition to go in there yet. We could go to the downtown cafe, but there’s one place that’s closer. The bowling alley has a pretty good snack bar.”

  “The bowling alley?”

  “Yeah, Melbourne Lanes. Take a right at the next stop sign. It’s only a block down the road. Shouldn’t be the least bit crowded on a Tuesday afternoon.”

  Melbourne Lanes was a typical small-town bowling alley—a dozen lanes with a tiny snack bar on the left of the entrance and a game room to the right. Except for a few lockers on a back wall and the ball racks that separated the lanes from the business section, there was nothing else. When Lije and Curtis entered, four senior citizens were using one of the middle lanes. A man was sitting at the counter eating a ham sandwich.