While Rome Was Sleeping

by M. S. Forsythe

  “No, don’t get excited. Jim Savalza is the police detective investigating Kelshaw’s murder. He’s a friend; a good guy and very good cop.” Reading Neil’s face, Andrew was quick to allay his concerns. “He knows that Kelshaw was CIA, but he doesn’t know anything about Aunt Martha’s luggage. He has read the letters to Ben and the letter he carried for Charlene Thayer. He was and is concerned about the implied danger to the three of us that is mentioned in Ben’s letter.”

  Andrew paused, “I know him pretty well, he’s a tough investigator and he won’t quit until he has some answers. I think it would be to your advantage to include him in these discussions. How long will it be before the Feds get wind of this and step in to run the investigation? Right now, I don’t think anyone has officially identified George Kelshaw, but it will happen.”

  Neil nodded, “Ordinarily our Detective Savalza will be required to report George’s connection. You’re right, better to bring him on board, but tomorrow.” Looking at Andrew, “I’ll ask you to take care of it.”

  Father Ben was nodding agreement with what had been said adding, “It would be well if we could meet at the Center tomorrow, Ben offered. It will be closed for the day and I am certain we will not be disturbed. Perhaps we should wait to discuss more details of Mr. Kelshaw until then,” he said to Neil.

  “I will agree to that, Father, if Andrew has no objections. I would like to know about Charlene Thayer. Was George able to speak with her before...?”

  “No,” Andrew responded. “When Kelshaw called her, she thought it was a crank call and hung up on him. I delivered a letter he had been carrying for years from her husband, Paul, to her.”

  “That must have been very difficult,” Neil said knowingly.

  “I don’t think I have ever felt more helpless, than I did at that moment. I didn’t know it at the time, it wasn’t just the letter, but the strange fact that it was written nearly a year after she had been notified of his death. There were other things in that letter that were very strange as well; some things in it about being betrayed and a very interesting line about being with a Soviet officer, one Pyotr Chernakov who had defected. If I’m not mistaken he was some kind of Soviet national hero, so how did he wind up with Thayer?”

  “She let you read the letter?” Neil asked curiously, disregarding Andrew’s question.

  “Yes, but not until the next morning; that night after reading it she got up and ran out of the restaurant where we met. The next day I went to her house. I had to see if there was something I could do to…, I don’t know, just to help if I could,” Andrew rationalized.

  “Did she say anything at all about Kelshaw?”

  “Yes, when I asked her, she said she didn’t know who he was.”

  ✽✽✽

  Jim Savalza returned to his office from the Washington Athletic Club in an optimistic mood. He felt he was on the verge of a breakthrough in the Kelshaw murder after seeing Andrew, Father Ben and Evan Scott in some kind of pow-wow. It would just take a little time to sort everything out.

  Jim liked to work each case as a puzzle to be put together; finding a major piece and fitting it with another was exciting and challenging.

  He decided he would visit the Department’s Property Room and check out what items might be there that had belonged to Kelshaw. There could be something that might shine more light on this case—maybe, he thought.

  “Hi, Jim, what brings you here?” Carl Cramer was on duty in the Property Room. Carl was a good man who always paid attention to details. Jim liked that. Carl would be retiring soon and Jim would miss him.

  “Carl, I want to look at any personal property that belonged to George Kelshaw, the guy who was stabbed outside the Seamen’s Center last Tuesday. What do you have?”

  “Not much,” Carl told him. “A watch and his clothes are all. Here they are,” he offered the itemized bag. He watched as Jim looked through the clothing and examined the watch. “Strange,” Cramer commented, “you’d think a man would have more on him than that, like a wallet unless that was stolen, and some kind of identification.”

  “Yeah, you’d think so,” Jim agreed. “Not much help, Carl, but thanks” he murmured. As he signed the log book he noticed Monte Maxwell’s name a couple of lines above his.

  Carl was saying “You know, Jim, Monte Maxwell was here the other day asking about Kelshaw’s belongings. He seemed upset that was all there was.”

  “Is that so?” Jim commented casually and thinking, “Now that is odd. “Well, thanks again, Carl.”

  “Anytime, good to see you Savalza,” Carl told him.

  Savalza shook his head at the clutter on his desk but his mind was on the Kelshaw murder and the events since Tuesday. Things were happening fast; suddenly there were a number of threads to tie together, but there was one very odd thread; and it didn’t make any sense. It was Maxwell—Monte at the Seamen’s Center questioning Father Ben, Monte at the WAC, and now Monte in the Property Room looking at Kelshaw’s personal effects; why?

  It had to be coincidence didn’t it? Jim stood up “I think I’ll just ask him.”

  Monte wasn’t at his desk and Jim leaned in on Ed Peterson. “Where’s Monte?” he asked Ed.

  Ed shrugged, “Hi, Savalza. Oh, he’s probably still down getting something to eat. We just got back from the Rainier Tower. You know I’m worried about that guy; he’s out of control. His temper is going to get him into hot water one of these days.”

  “Oh,” Jim said. “What happened?”

  “Well, Monte and I went over there to look into the window washers’ accident.”

  “Oh, yeah? What about it?” Jim asked.

  “Monte got a bug about investigating it and I guess he went to the Captain to inquire. Hell, he might as well, he sure has been antsy lately,” Ed gossiped. “Anyway he got pissed at the guy from Labor and Industries because he didn’t agree with Monte’s interpretation of the accident; when I tried to calm him down he got mad as hell and started yelling at me. Like I said, he’s out of control.”

  “Yeah, well, Ed,” Savalza sighed starting to leave, “I’d like to shoot the breeze for awhile, but I’ve got to clean up my desk. I’m hoping to pick up a couple of suspects on suspicion of burglary. In fact I think one is a con who works for a window washing comp...” Jim didn’t finish. He spun around and looked squarely at Ed Peterson, “Ed, do you have the names of the guys that fell?”

  “Yeah, they’re right here. Here it is—according to identification from Atlas Window Cleaners they were Leo Tanner and Jake Schultz. Why did you want to know? Say, was one of these guys your felon?” Ed asked curiously. “If so, well, it’s too bad, but it saves paperwork though, huh?”

  Jim stood in stunned silence for a moment, not answering Ed’s question and then said casually, “Thanks, Ed. Don’t bother having Monte call me. In fact I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention I was asking; I’ll catch up with him later. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Okay, whatever you say,” Ed shrugged as Jim moved to go back to his office. He sat at his desk drawing another line on the chart to Monte’s name shaking his head. “I need to check this out and then I need to call Andrew.”

  ✽✽✽

  After he had eaten, Monte decided he would check with the Property Room before returning to his desk and Ed Peterson. He was still angry with Peterson for defending Phillips and wasn’t in a hurry to be back at his desk next to him. Besides, he had other things to think about now.

  “Hi, Cramer,” Monte greeted Cramer in Property. “I’m wrapping up the investigation of the accident at the Rainier Tower this morning. You know the window washers that fell? Have the victims personal effects come over?”

  “Just got their stuff in and inventoried,” Carl answered. “Anything in particular that you’re looking for?”

  “Don’t think so,” Monte replied. “I just want to tie up any loose ends on the case and write my report.”

  “There’s the stuff,” Carl told him. “Just sign in – you can
have it. I heard it was an accident, poor buggers,” Carl said, sympathetically.

  “Yeah,” Monte agreed absentmindedly. His thoughts were elsewhere as he pushed aside the clothing. He spotted an envelope and a money belt. “Whose property is this anyway? Which stuff belongs to which guy?”

  Carl looked at him in surprise. “I thought everything was identified. Let me get the inventory sheet.”

  As Carl left to get the sheet, Monte emptied the envelope and pocketed the money inside, obviously taken from the money belt. He carefully laid the envelope aside while he examined the listed contents of wallets—noting nothing over $15 or $20 in either billfold.

  Where was the rest of the dough? He had either Jake’s or Leo’s money belt in front of him but there had to be more. As he pushed the clothing aside his attention was drawn to a standard black belt a little wider and thicker than most. As he picked it up, and examined it, he noticed something that looked like a cut on the inside of the belt. Looking closer he discovered the corner of a $1000 dollar bill.

  There was no time to waste; Carl would be back any second. He whipped off his own belt, coiled it and placed it with the other articles; then he quickly threaded the other belt through the loops of his pants. It was very tight. He sucked in his belly and was barely able to fasten it just as Carl returned.

  “Here is the inventory, both sheets, Monte.” Carl looked at Monte who had drawn himself up to his full height and was standing ramrod straight. “Are you okay, Monte?”

  “Yeah, I just need to get some air,” he choked. “I’ll see you later. Thanks.” Monte hurried out. Carl shook his head... “I don’t understand,” he muttered.

  ✽✽✽

  At KGM, Andrew was just finishing his broadcast, and looking up he saw Holly Lacey holding up five fingers and pointing to the phone to take line five. He nodded and said into the microphone, “Thanks for listening, thanks for your calls and thanks for being the greatest audience in the Great Northwest. Come back tomorrow with your questions and comments. This is Andrew Kincaid with KGM.”

  Turning off the mike, he grabbed the phone and punched the line button, “Kincaid,” he answered.

  “This is Jim...,”

  Andrew quickly interrupted, “You got the guys?”

  “Andy, you know that accident by the Rainier Tower you were so curious about?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Better brace yourself when I tell you who the victims were,” Jim sounded grim.

  Andrew let his breath go out slowly, “Go on.”

  “Jake Schultz and Leo Tanner?” Jim’s voice was without emotion.

  Andrew felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. “No kidding!

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m looking at the report on my desk as we speak.”

  “Well,” Andrew said flatly, “That seems to be the end of that, doesn’t it? Does anybody know what happened?”

  “Well, it’s the end for Schultz and Tanner certainly, but we still have a lot of other questions. We’ll have to see where we go from here... as to what happened, I’ve been told one or two of the cables gave out. Labor and Industries will investigate no doubt. They’re usually all over any company that has a fatal accident.”

  “If the cable really broke,” Andrew said thoughtfully, “God help the company. Who is doing the investigating on your end?”

  “Monte Maxwell, “Jim told him. “You know Monte, right?”

  “Yeah, I know him,” Andy spoke unenthusiastically, “Why him?”

  “I wondered that myself, but the Captain assigned him, probably wanted him to get off his dead end and earn his paycheck.” Jim was suddenly thinking about connections and the chart he had started earlier, and the envelope that Monte had picked up at the WAC. According to the desk clerk and manager, Monte had gotten the envelope on Monday. Now Monte is volunteering to investigate this accident.

  “Nah,” Jim argued with himself, “It must have something to do with betting on the horses.” Everyone knew that Monte liked to play the ponies. “No! There are just too damned many coincidences,” he said aloud into the phone. The Savalza intuition was now in high gear.

  He heard Andrew cough, “Hey, Jim what coincidences... I can’t hear what you’re saying, are you still there? I’ve got to get going. I need to talk to Ben and Charlene Thayer too. There’s a lot to tell them.”

  “Yeah, sorry, Andy, I was distracted for a minute, and I still have more questions—some of them for you,” Jim struggled to come back to the conversation.

  “I’ll be around;” Andrew told him, “Except tomorrow. Jim, but since you want some of your questions answered, I think you should spend tomorrow with me and a couple of friends.”

  “Spend the day with you, are you nuts? For what, it’s Saturday for crying out loud! As it is, my wife and children have to look at my picture to remember who I am.” Then slowly he said, “Okay, Andy, what’s going on tomorrow?”

  “Sorry to take you away from your family, Jim, but you’ve said you want to know more about Kelshaw; tomorrow is your chance. Be at the Seamen’s Center at 7:30 in the morning. There’s someone you need to meet.”

  “You don’t mean Mr. Evan Scott, do you?”

  Jim’s question was met with stupefied silence. Then Andrew responded in disbelief, “How did you ... never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  In a more serious tone Jim added, “Watch yourself, Andy. I mean it! Schultz and Tanner’s demise is very convenient for someone, don’t you think? And there are still some pieces missing in this puzzle. Personally, I think they are big ones. Be careful!”

  “Yeah, yeah. You know you’re worse than my mother. Yes, Detective Savalza,” he intoned slowly, “we will be extremely careful. ‘G’bye now.”

  Andrew glanced at his watch and quickly dialed the Center. “Hello Father Ben, Don’t go away and hold on to your cassock, I have a lot to tell you! I’ll be there in a few minutes. He then quickly placed a call to Charlene Thayer. “Charlene,” he spoke rapidly “Can we meet on Sunday... perhaps after Church?”

  “Yes, I think so; I usually go to the 10:30 service at St. Mark’s if that would work; we can meet in the parking lot about 11:45.”

  “Great!” Andrew said enthusiastically. “I’ll pick you right after Mass at St. Joseph’s; I have some things to talk with you about so keep the afternoon open ended. Okay?”

  “That’s fine, I’ll see you Sunday,” Charlene responded thinking perhaps she would have something to tell Andrew as well.

  “And, Charlene, be careful--just don’t take chances, you know, until we get this whole thing wrapped up.”

  She listened as Andrew cautioned, thinking that he wasn’t making a lot of sense. “Wait, Andrew, what should I be careful of?”

  “Uh, well I, ah, probably nothing, but you never know until everything is settled just be careful. Oh, and call me anytime day or night if you need anything or...,” he found he was drowning in bottomless explanations that weren’t working. “Okay, I’ll see you Sunday, okay?”

  “Yes, I’ll see you Sunday.” She shrugged as she placed the phone back in the cradle puzzled by Andrew’s rambling warning.

  ✽✽✽

  At 3:30 on Friday afternoon Charlene placed a call to a home in Alexandria, Virginia. “Olivia, this is Charlene Thayer. I know this is out of the blue after all this time, but,” she paused, “Is Brad in town? I really need to speak with him.”

  “Charlene, can it be? It is wonderful to hear your voice; it has been so long! Is something wrong?” Olivia was concerned, aware of the edge in Charlene’s voice.

  Charlene and Olivia had been close friends at one time, but Paul’s death and Brad’s demanding military career brought about rapid changes and distances. Friends often lost touch with one another in the wake of military schedules.

  “I don’t know, Olivia; I’ve been going through some of Paul’s things and I need to clarify something with Brad. I know he’s wildly busy, but this simply has to be settled.” Ch
arlene insisted in a warmer tone. She had not spoken with Olivia for at least two years and she realized she had probably alarmed her. “It’s just that there are some questions that have come up that need answers, and I’m afraid that Brad is the only person who can help.”

  After additional exchanges of small talk and agreeing to do better staying in touch with each other, Olivia assured Charlene, “You know Charlene that we, Brad and I, are glad to help in any way that we can. Brad is not in town but I expect him home tonight or tomorrow. My husband is on the move so much these days. I expect him when I see him,” she laughed, but there was a hollow ring to it. “Do you still have the same number?”

  “Yes, and thank you ‘Livy’,” she said using the nickname that Paul and she had used. “I’ve missed you in my life. You’ll never know how good it is to hear your voice. I’d like to talk more and we will at another time—and I promise I will stay in touch.”

  “It is good to hear you too; Charlie” she said softly, “And I will definitely have Brad call. Don’t worry; I’m sure he will be very glad to help to straighten out whatever the problem is. He’s good at that.” She added, “Don’t be a stranger; we do need to be in closer contact with each other.

  Chapter 6

  Saturday, September 20, 1980

  Andrew picked up Neil at the WAC shortly after seven on Saturday morning. As they were driving Andrew extracted the oilskin packet from his inside coat pocket. “Here is Aunt Martha’s luggage,” he said as he handed it to Neil.

  Neil looked at it carefully, it was clear that it had not been opened or disturbed in any way. He placed it in his own inside zippered jacket pocket which he securely fastened. “Thank you for keeping ‘her’ luggage safe. Perhaps someday...,” his voice trailed off leaving the thought unfinished. Neil was thinking of the road that George Kelshaw had traveled in order to deliver the information contained inside the packet to him.