by David Smith
“What did the sister have to say?” the Blond-Haired Man asked. Again, they were sitting in Wolf’s office.
“Sir, she was pretty shaken up. As was the mother.”
“I didn’t hear about the mother. What about a dad?”
“No dad,” Wolf answered. “Ironically, the dad died several years ago…guess how.”
“Electrocution?”
“Yep. Owned a tree-cutting business, was taking tree down in Santa Ana, I think. Brought down a power pole near the Interstate Five expansion.” Wolf opened up his yellow legal pad, thumbing down a few pages. “November 11th, 1962…Grabbed a downed power line. Nathan was the one to find him.”
“Any relevance to what we have here?”
“You mean both men being electrocuted? Nah. No chance. Strictly coincidence.”
The Blond-Haired Man rubbed his chin. “Okay. What did the sister tell you?”
Wolf leafed through his notes, settling on a page near the center. “She said Nathan was sort of a loner. No wife, no girlfriend.”
“What about other work? Did he do anything outside of here?”
“Nope. Just Disneyland, according to the sister.” Wolf referred to his notes then continued, “Sister’s name is ‘Evelyn Duncan.’ After his dad died, Nathan didn’t want to continue his dad’s tree-cutting business. Didn’t sell it or anything. Just abandoned it.” Wolf shrugged. “I guess Duncan Junior was not much of a go-getter.”
The Blond-Haired man nodded absently. “What about his residence?”
Wolf flipped a few more pages. “12843 Apt B on a Cathy Lane in Anaheim. Searched the place. Had the sister and the mother both present for obvious reasons. We took two days so as to treat everything with respect…but not miss anything.”
“And?”
“Sorry, Sir. There was nothing to miss. To be honest, Duncan lived not just meagerly, but his place was almost derelict. Marginal furniture, an old Frigidaire with some milk, salami, and bread. I mean, really Spartan,” Wolf said.
There was silence between the men for a moment before the Blond-Haired man spoke. “Well, jeez Wolf, what DO we have?” he said, lightly pounding a fist on the desk in front of him.
Wolf closed his tablet. “I have personally gone through his lockers here with a fine-tooth comb. I’ve looked at every page of that paperback book we found in his locker; looking for notes, scribbles, anything. He actually took the bus here to work every day but had a beat up 1960 Ford Falcon sitting up on blocks in a side yard of the house he was renting. The landlord let him keep it there but used it as collateral for rent. If Duncan missed his rent, the landlord keeps the car. Something about wanting to fix it up if Nathan forfeited it to him. I went through the car too. Nothing.”
“You are one-hundred percent sure it was this guy, Nathan Duncan, who was in Walt’s apartment?”
“Well, not only did it look like the same guy on the security monitor, but, Sir, the guy ran,” Wolf said, holding out his arms in an obvious gesture. “And, he ran like a person who had done something he knew was really bad…and hell, I spotted him just down from the Fire Station. There was no one else around.”
The Blond-Haired Man leaned forward putting an elbow on Wolf’s desk. He rubbed his eyebrows between his thumb and index finger. Glancing back up at Wolf, he asked, “What’d you say about a book? A paperback book in his locker?
“Yes. While there weren’t any notes, pieces of papers, or anything in it, it was rather an interesting title.”
The Blond-Haired Man said, “Title? What was it?”
“The guy was into the classics. It was ‘The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.’ Or, maybe Duncan never grew up…Maybe the guy was a real Peter Pan, if you get my drift.”
The Blond-Haired Man leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. “Doesn’t make sense. How would this Duncan even know about the pendant?” He said it even though he knew it was more of a rhetorical statement than a question. He and Wolf had gone over that point many times too, both with how the previous theft came down and now this time with Duncan seemingly knowing right where to go to get the pendant from its hiding place in the gramophone.
The two men sat pensively for a moment.
“Wolf,” the Blond-Haired Man said quietly. “Where do we go from here?”
Wolf sighed. “Well, Walt is safe. You made sure of that. I suggest we keep looking, keep talking to people, and keep our eyes open.”
“And hope we come across the pendant before…” The Blond-Haired Man couldn’t finish the sentence. They both knew that if they could not find the pendant, its loss would change many things; “history” certainly being high on the list of ramifications.
Wolf caught the truncated sentence knowing exactly what the man meant without him finishing. Changing the subject, Wolf asked, “What about the missing money? Couldn’t there be a connection, possibly?”
“Well, yes. There is that possibility. No question. We have interviewed every working lead, every cast member, even the armored truck drivers. The only person we can’t find is a woman who worked around that time period but disappeared. Name was “Jean Briggs.”
“That’s odd, don’t you think?”
“Of course! And we are looking for her. Unfortunately, she used a fictitious name and social. The address she listed doesn’t exist.” Wolf looked at his notes again but didn’t have anything else to add.
“I’m not as concerned about the money as the pendant,” the Blond-Haired Man said standing up. “Unless of course we find the two are indeed connected.” He paused as he turned toward the office door, thinking for a moment. He turned and looked back at Wolf. “I guess if we find the money, it may lead us to the pendant.” He paused as both men issued silent, hopeful nods. Finally, as he put his hand on the handle of Wolf’s office door, he said, “Let’s meet again Friday. But, you call me if anything comes up….and I do mean anything.”
“Of course, Sir,” Wolf said standing up out of respect for the departing man.
Like Walt Disney’s pendant, Wolf himself was an enigma as was the Blond-Haired Man. There were certain things about Wolf that only Walt Disney and the Blond-Haired Man were privy to.
Wolf knew that he had to get the pendant back in his possession and return it not only to a very specific location, but to a very specific time. Among his many qualities, Wolf also had certain “abilities,” one of which was almost impossible to explain even if he wanted to. Walt and the Blond-Haired man understood what Wolf’s ability was. Yet, both men did not understand the inexplicable means of how Wolf was able to accomplish this ability.
If Wolf failed in locating the pendant, the ramifications of that loss would change lives and events drastically. While Wolf had time to solve the mystery, both he and the Blond-Haired Man knew that the longer time passed with the pendant out of their possession, the more likely the pendant would never be found. If lost forever, Wolf would never be unable to move the pendant across the mysterious threshold that he needed to transport it through, correcting those situations its absence will have created.
If that was the case, Wolf didn’t want to think what that outcome would mean.
CHAPTER 24
Love Note
Sunday, June 25th, 2010
11:25pm
After seeing Missy yawn a couple times, and finding that he too was stifling a few yawns, Blain knew that while they were truly having a great night, it was perhaps time for them to get some rest.
But he wanted so much to spend more time with Missy.
“When exactly do you leave the area?” Blain asked as they slowly walked down Main Street towards the Park exit.
“I’ve got a family function on Thursday and Friday in some city. I’ll have to check. I’m not sure where. Then Sunday, we head out to San Francisco,” Malaysia said, trying to remember not to slip and say something that would give away her real responsibilities of rehearsals at the Honda Center in Anaheim, or the upcoming show. All night Malaysia fought herself, wanting to be honest and tell B
lain the truth. But two things kept her from doing that: first, she didn’t want to ruin the wonderful evening that she and Blain were having, and second, she didn’t want him to think of her as a fraud. She knew he would probably understand but, she also didn’t know for sure what his reaction might be. What Malaysia did know was that popping the news of who she really was would definitely change something…she just didn’t want to find out what that change might be.
All Malaysia knew was she had just had the best night of her life and she figured that their relationship was going to end very soon. She knew that. And perhaps, that was the main reason she didn’t tell him. She would be long gone, out of his life and out of his mind, within a week.
But right now, she wanted nothing more than to be with Blain.
“Tell you what; let’s go to your hotel, sit in the lobby, see what else is in this wallet and then see if we can possibly see each other again…that is, Missy, if you want to see me again.”
Malaysia squeezed Blain’s hand. “I’m torn, Blain. I want to see you more than anything. But my common sense and logical mind is telling me not to get involved. It will hurt leaving…you, I already know.” Malaysia suddenly felt like crying. “I mean…I, I…I leave here in a week.” She pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear with an agitated hand.
Blain could feel her frustration. Happiness and frustration danced a duet in his head. Blain put his arm around her, squeezing her tight. “I know that. I know that we have no future, other than whatever the next few days might give us.” Blain said with effort. He was feeling a sense of dread, of knowing that whatever emotional connection they had cultivated in these two short days would be disconnected in a few days...if not sooner. Blain looked over at Malaysia. He saw her eyes moist, her emotions raw. He had no idea of her internal fight of revealing who she was or what pressures her life contained. Blain could only see what looked like regret and sorrow being held in her pain-stricken eyes.
Blain thought about what he was feeling, and he spoke from his heart. “But, you know something, Missy? I think I would rather have my heart broken in five days, just not tonight.” Blain paused then added with a little optimism, “Besides, you never know what might happen.”
Malaysia stopped in the middle of Main Street and pulled Blain to her. “I want to see you again,” she whispered, moving her lips to his.
At Malaysia’s hotel, they found two padded chairs in the same area of the lobby that Blain had waited for Missy to come down from her room in earlier that morning. It was hard to believe that they had spent about fourteen hours together today…yet it seemed that they had spent a month getting to know each other. Within the lobby, a few fellow Disneyland guests who were staying at the hotel were strolling in at the late hour from the Park, most with sleeping kids either in strollers or being held on hips.
Blain had found a soda machine and set two Diet Cokes on the small round table. He sat down and pulled out the discovered wallet from his buttoned cargo-pocket.
“It’s weird,” Malaysia said. “While I was so excited about wanting to look inside the wallet again, I literally have not given it a thought since dinner!”
“I know what you mean, Missy. I honestly have never had such a good time.”
Malaysia blushed, replying, “Me too, Blain.”
“Okay, let’s just see what else we have here,” Blain said drawing his attention from her eyes and focusing on the leather billfold.
Looking in the little pockets of the wallet, Nathan found something of interest.
“This is very interesting,” Blain said, sliding some sort of card from the wallet. “It appears that our wallet was lost by a fellow Disneyland cast member,” Blain said pulling a pinkish colored card out of the slit. The card was laminated, however, most of the edges of the card curled apart with portions of the card worn. However, across the top was the faded word, “Disneyland” and a foil sticker was still attached in the upper right corner that had the number ’66.’
“Looks like we have what would be now a very old former cast member.”
The Disneyland ID Card said, “Nathan Duncan, Department 4605.”
“I don’t know what Department 4605 was back in 1966,” Blain said. “But, I can look this guy up, either on the Disneyland Alumni web site or just Google his name. I highly doubt he would still be working there.” Blain said, looking at Malaysia. He then frowned, saying, “Of course, the guy may not even be alive.”
“Is there a phone number or anything like that?” Malaysia asked.
Blain shook his head. “It would be almost impossible that he would still have the same phone number from that time, let alone the same address, which isn’t on here either.”
“Right,” Malaysia agreed. “Hey, Blain, what about that key?” she said pointing to the open billfold section.
Blain reached back into the bills compartment and pulled out the little envelope. He carefully opened the flap and let the key spill out onto the table in front of them. Just as Blain was about to pick up the key, he noticed something else in the envelope.
“Missy, look here,” he said, putting his fingers in the open end of the envelope. Sticking out just a fraction was a piece of white paper, folded up. “Can you use your fingernails to pull that out without tearing it?” Blain asked, holding open the envelope so she could see the paper inside.
“I’ll try.” Malaysia reached inside and delicately slipped her fingernail between the paper and the envelope. She then slid her finger inside and gently grasped the folded paper. Fearing that it might be stuck, and that pulling it out would tear the sheet, she very gingerly worked the paper out until it slid out freely.
“Maybe that will explain the key and the name on the outside of the envelope,” Blain said as Malaysia carefully opened the sheet that was folded in thirds.
There was writing on it; even though the ink was blotchy and had run a bit, the words were mostly legible. Malaysia held it between them so they could both read it.
“It looks like a note,” Blain said.
‘Lynie, I hope I am able to hand this note to you in person. If not, then one of two things has happened: I was unsuccessful or I have been caught…or worse. You should have the other half of these instructions that I sent you. Together, and with my notebook, you should be able to locate what I’ve left for us.
No matter what, you will always be my ‘Becky.’”
Our favorite book is the key. But you have to use this key to find “my” key. Then the rest of these instructions (those you already have), will show you what to unlock.
I love you,
Nate
The page was torn along the bottom, obviously the top half of what was once a full sheet of lined paper.
“That sounds very intriguing,” Blain said after they both had read the note, leaning back in his seat. “I wonder what it is that he left behind.”
“I wonder what he may have done that might have got him ‘caught,’” Malaysia said and then added, “or worse.”
Blain nodded, deep in thought. He silently picked up the wallet, looked again at the vintage currency in the billfold. He looked through the pockets again, and then shook his head. “It is strange that this guy, Nathan, doesn’t have any pictures, a library card, a credit card,” Blain thought about that. “Actually, I’m not sure if there were credit cards around back then.”
“Yeah. It is strange there isn’t much else inside,” Malaysia said.
“I wonder if he’s referring to this key, in his note,” Blain said, picking up the key again, looking at the imprinted number eighteen, stamped near the crown of the key. “Makes you curious, doesn’t it?”
“I wonder if it’s just some sort of game he was playing with someone,” Malaysia said, stifling a yawn, using the back of her hand to hide her mouth.
Blain looked at Malaysia and smiled. “It’s been a very long day, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, Mr. Walters. You certainly know how to wear a girl out.”
“I�
�ll walk you to the elevator,” Blain said, putting the key, the note, and the envelope back in the wallet. “I suppose it’s safe to keep this stuff in here…After all, it was safe for over forty years.”
Malaysia laughed. “Yes. I’m sure it will be just fine.”
“Can I call you tomorrow?” Blain asked, reaching down for Malaysia’s hand to help her out of the chair. “Or, would you like to call me after you talk to your family…and think about wanting to see me again.”
“I don’t have to think about that, Blain,” Malaysia warmly remarked. They walked hand in hand towards the bank of elevator doors. “But I will call you. Are you off tomorrow too?”
“Yes, I have Sunday’s and Monday’s off. Oh, here,” Blain said, reaching into his back pocket. “I’ve got my business cards for the band. My cell phone is the top number next to my name,” Blain pulled out his wallet and fingered through one pocket, pulling up the colorful “SECOND EXIT—Band for the Ages” business card.
“Nice,” Malaysia said holding the card between her fingers.
“Don’t lose it,” Blain said, taking her hands. He looked into her eyes. “Thank you for a most wonderful day…and night, Missy.”
Without hesitation, Blain moved his lips to hers, slanted his mouth, and kissed her softly; it was a kiss that grew like a promise being kept. Malaysia took the nape of his head in her hand, caressing his hair.
“I like these fireworks better, too,” Blain whispered with a devilish grin before giving Malaysia one last deep and very pleasurable kiss.
CHAPTER 25
Finding Death
Monday, June 26th, 2010
8:15am
Blain woke up early Monday morning, took a shower, and was now seated in his office/den in his apartment with a steaming cup of coffee in his left hand. His roommate, Sal Richens, was up and out of the house even earlier, as he worked for an accounting firm in Santa Ana.
