Flower Girl: A Burton Family Mystery

by David Marshall Hunt

  We hustled the thirty meters across the parking lot to the front door. Inside we felt the warmth of the giant stone fireplace in the hotel lobby. For twenty minutes we thawed out while sipping hot chocolate. Meanwhile, Rhyly grabbed her gear and headed for an Ainu village to do some interviews. "See you both back here at the hotel in two days, after I meet with these Ainu families," Rhyly said, "and please register for me, thanks."

  As the front door to the hotel closed behind Rhyly, Reddy said to me, "There is still something mysterious about those two shootings back in River View. I’m pretty sure that Matte and Craft have not told us everything about Rhyly's shootings. There has to be something else going on there. I still sense she’s not safe, even after a year in witsec protection."

  "Why don't we simply ask them?" I replied.

  Reddy replied, "I know Craft well enough that if he's keeping something close to the vest, it's for a damn good reason."

  That night the thoughts of Hamish making a few discreet calls regarding Angie’s wedding plans had me recalling some of the historical objects and events of our tour with Hamish and Sister Cerice. What I remembered most was that Sister Cerice had long suspected that historical records of the contributions of the women of the Silla era had been systematically destroyed, not just lost to wars and regime changes. I do believe that in olden times she would have been a powerful female shaman. And, what secret was Rhyly keeping?

  When Angie rang off, I checked my text messages and found one from Sister Cerice. As we warmed in front of the fire, I read it.

  "Package sent this A.M. to your Berkeley address. Should be there when you get home. Confidential request from research group here at Ewha Women's University for linguistics and decrypting work on two diaries about the Wonhwa. Hope to verify that the diaries were written by Queen Seondeok of the Silla dynasty in 7th century."

  Now, this is serendipity!

  I texted back to Sister Cerice, "You’ve piqued my curiosity. Will call after I return to Berkeley and examine documents. Dr. Raincrow's here with me here in PKC, so I will tell her about request. Best regards."

  At 6am on our first day in PKC, Reddy and I headed for breakfast in the Avacha International Hotel restaurant and ate before a large picture window from which we could see nothing of the landscape. A wind driven sheet of snow obliterated Mount Avachinsky, usually visible as a majestic snow crown to the north of the city. Snowed in on day one, that evening, as we awaited dinner, the bartender acquainted us with Pushkin mit cherries.

  "Russian vodka with Cherries. I picked up the habit while working in St. Petersburg a few years back. Take one of these maraschino cherries," he said, holding out a dish of the stemmed red cherries. "Pop it in your mouth and chew until you have a mouthful of cherry juice but be sure not to swallow. Now, take this shot glass of Pushkin vodka, named after the famous Russian author, and chug it." After demonstrating, he poured us each a shot of Pushkin, watched as we chewed on the cherries, and waited in anticipation for our reactions. Reddy grinned and licked his lips.

  "Delicious and I suspect that if I do more than one or two, I may topple off this bar stool," I said. "We will have to share this treat with Rhyly when she returns."

  The bartender suggested that we make the journey to the Valley of the Geysers located in the middle of a string of a dozen or more volcanoes, seven in a line to the north of P-K. The bartender told us, "Best way to see a significant part of the Pacific Ring of Fire. There are geysers that erupt regularly, a spectacular sight. My cousin runs tourists up that way in his snow tractor. Shall I call him and book arrangements for two for tomorrow?” He assumed we were a couple, not father and daughter.

  Reddy and I spent the next day trekking and snowmobiling. We watched and photographed the big brown bears that looked like cousins of the Alaskan Kodiaks. We saw steam and boiling waters at the geysers contrasted with lush green grasses and trees. We damn near ran out of film. It was spectacular.

  On our third day we took a helicopter flight over the Valley of Geysers to the north of PKC, then soaked for an hour in the thermal pools at the Paratunka resort center before returning to the bar and a second round of Pushkin mit cherries.

  By our third night in PKC, Rhyly had completed her interviews with the Ainu villagers. She rejoined Reddy and me for dinner at a table as close as we could get to the huge hotel fireplace and then we introduced her to the Pushkin mit cherry drinks. We all loosened up a bit. It was the first time I had relaxed since my assignment for Zubaida’s case. However, perhaps relaxed isn’t the right word. My body enjoyed the thermal therapy and my muscles relaxed while the Pushkin mit cherries brightened my outlook on life.

  However, a nagging sense of unfinished business entered my dreams nightly. I was repeatedly remembering Jill Cotton’s advice from Professor Hunt’s Seattle seminar, "Take care of unfinished business quickly."

  Soon we were all relaxed and telling our favorite stories. Rhyly, loosened by the Pushkin, told us of her research on a nineteenth century British explorer and his wife. In the nineteenth century a British railroad engineer and explorer Turtle Woods and his wife Henrietta discovered the ruins of the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, considered in ancient times to be one of the ancient Seven Wonders of the World. While he got most of the accolades at the British Museum and in the press, Rhyly's research uncovered that it was Henrietta who first stumbled upon the temple ruins.

  I said to Rhyly, "If you can do research on Ephesus from pre-biblical times, and discover Henrietta's contribution, how about digging into the history of the Wonwha women in 7th century Silla on the Korean peninsula and finding out about their contributions to Korean history?"

  Chapter 12: Shannon's Proposal

  With Reddy at the controls, the PC12 lifted off from PKC and banked to the northeast, climbing to a cruising altitude of 15,000 feet. Kamchatka and the line of volcanoes were on our port side all the way to the Aleutian Islands where the Pacific Ring of Fire continues in the form of another chain of volcanic islands.

  Reddy asked, "We’ll fly over at least two active volcanoes located on the Aleutians en route to Bethel, Alaska, so do you want me to stay at this altitude or get lower for your filming?"

  "Can we do one pass by of each volcano at high altitude, then swing back for a closer look on a second pass?" I replied.

  "Roger, Wilco!"

  During this leg of our flight I was in charge of filming the active volcanoes. I intended to turn over the film to the geography department at Washington State U. when we returned. I was doing this as a favor to my friend, Professor Hunt, Jr. What was it about juniors that brought them to me like moths to a flame? Maybe this Hunt Junior would turn out to be a friend. He's lots of fun, likes mountain climbing and biking.

  Nearing Bethel, Alaska, Rhyly took over the pilot chores, just as Reddy announced, "Bethel Tower reports storm clouds forming to the west." Three hours later we hit some bodacious swells, and the PC12 suddenly rose and abruptly descended a few thousand feet at a time.

  "Buckle up!" Rhyly said. "We’re in for a roller coaster ride for the next twenty minutes or so until I can find a way out of this stuff." The radar showed a small opening in the storm to the east and Rhyly headed straight for it, hoping to reach Kodiak Island and land for the night. When she gave us the all clear, we decided to push on for Anchorage.

  The Wonhwa Case

  Details of my plan continued to morph in my mind into a proposal to Rhyly. After we took off from Kodiak Island, I decided to present my thoughts to Rhyly in the form of a proposal. Instead, she fell asleep in the rear seat, too exhausted to be interested. With Reddy back at the controls of the PC12, I tried again a couple of hours later to interest Rhyly in my proposal.

  This triggered a fantastic thought in my head. If she could find some clues about the Silla era, circa 650ce, and learn about the Wonhwa in Korean history, we could help alter an historical injustice of significance to women of all times.

  This thought reoccurred as we headed home via Alaska. Rhyl
y could research the Wonwha and hopefully find some clues that would assist in deciphering the two coded diaries. Perhaps she could join the Ewha women at their dig in Gyeorgju. Then she could meet with the geomancer that Reddy knows, he's an expert on the Namsan grave mounds?

  Finally I could wait for the right moment no longer.

  "The crux of what I propose depends on my persuading you to join the Ewha University women scholars at their archaeological dig in Gyeongju to secure information that will help validate the historical relevance and presence of the Wonhwa and women of ancient Korea," I said.

  "Subcontracted to Burton’s Family Business. Okay, let’s hear your proposal!" Rhyly replied.

  "I am about to bend BFB company policy. Reddy has a rule about not taking on partners," I said.

  "If you're breaking one of Reddy's Rules it must be a doozey of a proposal,"” Rhyly commented. "How many rules does he have?"

  "Several, I'll tell you about them some day. You have your secrets and we have ours. Besides, I’m not sure how the proposal fits with the rest of Reddy’s Rules."

  "I will tell you that it is not going to be for-profit. However, Sister Cerice convinced me that the cause of validating and restoring the contribution of Korean women to the development of the peninsula is a more worthwhile goal." I replied.

  "If we can pull off this operation we might defeat the challenge by the Park's to repudiate the validity of the two diaries as the works of a woman from the Silla dynasty. Sister Cerice wants our help with decrypting documents possibly written in seventh century Silla by Queen Seondeok about the Wonhwa."

  "Let's call this the Wonhwa case. It’s a proposal for you to travel to South Korea and assist the Ewha scholars in finding clues about the Wonwha while Chip and I work on decoding and validating the documents found by Sister Cerice and her colleagues. All in an effort to defeat the Park's who are currently sabotaging records of women's contributions to Korean development. These men truly represent the 'his'story approach that dominates historical records." I summed up, adding, "However, this journey is not without risk."

  Finally, I opened up to Rhyly. "There’s something unfinished about the Zubaida case, and it’s really bugging me."

  Rhyly replied, "I know what still bothers me about the tour we just completed. Who was the dude in black leathers on the motorcycle that followed us all around Gyeongju and even into Seoul?"

  "You’re right," I responded, adding, "I need to figure out who was spying on us during our recent tour. However, it was the dudes in the Benz that were a threat to us, not the biker in black. Reddy told me to ask Hamish about the biker, I'll fill you in after I do just that."

  Rhyly said, "OK, and please include at least a splash about why they are after us."

  Later that evening a revelation came to me. The nagging sense of unfinished business had begun after my meeting with Dr. Evel Park, Junior, before I completed my assignment, not after.

  I needed a session on Matte’s virtual couch about what I really felt and thought about my recently completed first assignment. All this heritage was a bit overwhelming. Maybe she could help me clear my head.

  But that wasn’t what was waking me up every night. The nagging sense of unfinished business started since I visited the Parks’ Seoul Clinic and met with Dr. Park, Junior.

  I might have been overly confident about my deception when I visited Dr. Evel Park, Jr. at the Clinic prior to carrying out my first assignment. What if it was Courtney Blaine Grey who stalked us? If Courtney was the stalker, he would inform Sincere, his boss, that I visited Junior. So why didn't Junior change his schedule to avoid being a target? I am sure this clue means something; however, I still can't resolve the dilemma of my nagging sense of unfinished business.

  After dinner I shared my dilemma with Reddy who said at one point, "Don’t forget that Courtney works for Sincere, and he knows us both from Professor Hunt’s seminar in Seattle. He may have conveyed who we are to his boss months ago."

  "Now he wants this girl put in her place. He wants his revenge," I said, jabbing myself in the chest, admonishment for forgetting this critical detail.

  "Remember not to underestimate a target," Reddy said.

  My thinking that Junior would not recognize me at the clinic in Seoul was a mistake. I didn’t factor Courtney in because he works for Sincere, not Junior. More importantly, I had left the question of why Courtney was at the Seattle seminar unanswered all this time.

  I set up a virtual session with Matte for our last night in PKC. Her smiling face came on the screen as her out-of-synch lips said, "You need to discuss your first assignment."

  "Damn woman! You are a psychic or a shaman, not a shrink," I replied. Even so, the hardest part was telling her what I had done, not wanting to have her think less of me for such a cold blooded act.

  Then Matte asked, "I can tell that something is bothering you, but frankly, it doesn’t seem to be guilt or remorse. Perhaps there is another aspect of your assignment that has either not been completed or that you have overlooked? Why don’t you go back over the details of your tour and planning for your assignment and see if something triggers it? "

  Reddy and Rhyly had been hinting at the same thing. Maybe recollecting about the sleuths that stalked us during the tour will jog loose a clue in my not so perfect memory.

  "Good idea!" I replied.

  I told Matte of Reddy’s thoughts concerning Courtney Grey stalking me on behalf of Sincere before I met with Junior. The mystery of the man riding a black motorcycle, the other stalker on our tour, was still nagging at my eidetic recall. Now I knew what Jill Cotton meant regarding letting unfinished business eat up time and resources when you need to be moving on.

  Matte then asked, "Maybe we should try some hypnotherapy, I have never done it virtually over Skype; however, it can't hurt to try and we may unlock the mystery of what's haunting you."

  Dr. Matte suggested we try a version of hypnotherapy that involved following a pulsating beam of light that scrolled across the screen relentlessly like a screen saver with her voice softly instructing me and asking me questions. The idea was to unlock my eidetic memory with regard to whatever the unfinished business is that is haunting me night and now day.

  Instead, we uncovered my deepest darkest secret.

  Dr. Matte said, "OK, close your eyes, relax and follow the light... that's it, the only thing you hear is my voice... the only thing you see is the light ... follow it... now, open your eyes and look around you... what do you see?

  "I am in a dark place, there is no light; however, I am not alone..."

  Shannon went rigid, every muscle in her body twitched with tension...

  "What is your name?" Dr. Matte asked,

  "My name is Carrie Lee."

  "What do you feel Carrie Lee?"

  "Fear... someone is near, next to my bed, I am in the dormitory at Park's Cheju-do Home for Girls... I can smell the Lysol disinfectant they use to keep everything sanitary...

  "Is it one of the other girls that is with you?"

  Carrie Lee hesitated and grew even more tense, she was on the verge of panic ... "I smell sweat... it is a man, not one of the girls.

  A shudder ran through her small body and she tried to get up, struggling as if she was tied to the bed, trapped... "I need to escape, to run...I can't breathe...

  "A hand, I can see a hand, well manicured and definitely a man's hand... He is reaching for me.. I want to run... His fingers get closer and closer... I can't even blink my eyes or call out for help...His fingers touch my right thigh and the burning sensation is frightening and painful, as I would imagine the fingers of the devil would be...

  "The disembodied single hand spreads a fire across to my left thigh... continuing up my body.. touching every inch of me...then returning to my thighs and my vagina and my ass... never penetrating me... then suddenly the white hot pain is gone... I felt a cool breeze as he opens and closes the door softly behind him... when I try to stand.. my legs are unsteady..then at last I c
an move...

  Dr. Matte snaps her fingers and her soft steady voice says, "Wake up Carrie Lee."

  My vagina was moist and I felt shame.

  Dr. Matte said, "Go slowly girl, you have done nothing wrong, you are a child and you are only beginning to learn the ways of womanhood. Calm yourself and when I say NOW, return to the present as Shannon.... she paused, then said, "NOW!"

  I opened my eyes and saw the laptop screen and Matte's face in front of me. I was soaked in sweat from head to toe, my t-shirt clinging to my body and rivulet's running down my face and my legs. Indeed, my vagina was moist and I was aroused, and I felt I had done something bad.

  As my thoughts cleared I asked, "Why didn't he penetrate me?"

  Dr. Matte replied, "I can only speculate but I suspect that he did not want to break your hymen and spoil your value as a virgin."

  "It is your sense of having done something wrong that has blocked you all these years. Your fear of hugging will slowly dissipate now that you understand that you did nothing to be ashamed of."

  "Well alright, no more apephobia," I said, "we don't know who he was and we don't know what's blocking me as to the sense of unfinished business; at least I can give you a virtual hug and a thank you for releasing me from this lifelong fear of hugging. It's very tough on my relationships with family, friends, and the occasional romantic encounters I have."

  Matte laughed heartily as she disappeared from the screen, "See you soon, my best to Reddy, give the pups a hug too."

  "The pups have never been a problem."

  Reddy piloted us from Anchorage to Vancouver and Rhyly flew the last leg to Oakland. Reddy and I tied down the PC12 at Oakland International and took a taxi home to Berkeley. Rhyly had a flight back to Lambert Field in St. Louis booked for that night, so she said her goodbyes and made for the commercial terminal.

  The house was totally dark except for two external automatic security lights.