“No, I don’t think so. You see, Brad, George Kelshaw tried to call me and I hung up on him thinking it was a crank call.”
“I think it was, Charlene—obviously this letter is an attempt to deceive you. Surely you can see that,” he said emphatically.
Charlene was stunned. “I see nothing of the kind – this is unbelievable, Brad. How can you possibly come to that conclusion? I am certain that this is Paul’s hand writing--I would stake my life on it. I could have a handwriting expert look at it for verification, but I don’t think it is necessary,” she said indignantly.
“Now, now, let’s calmly think this through,” Brad tried placating her. “Ask yourself, why after all this time, would some transient show up with this letter from Paul?”
“Why would you think he was a transient, Brad? I didn’t say he was a transient. I am shocked that you would come all this way, read this letter and immediately tell me it is a hoax. Don’t you think I would know Paul’s writing?”
“Charlene, you must realize that I took time from a very tight schedule, squeezed in an extra day because of our long friendship and because I thought there could be a real problem, but you present me with this letter which I have read several times and I can see is clearly fraudulent; I am disappointed that you of all people would be taken in so easily. I always believed you had a good head on your shoulders, but now you seem on the verge of hysteria.”
“It isn’t just Paul, he’s writing about another man, General Chernakov. If it’s a fabrication, what about him?” she asked. Her eyes were wide with surprise at his manner.
“Charlene, if memory serves me correctly, and I’m seldom wrong on military matters, General Pyotr Chernakov was killed in a plane crash in the Soviet Union in or near Siberia. This Kelshaw could have written the letter himself. Be glad he died; he might have caused you more harm; who knows what he really wanted.
“I think you have let your over active imagination run away with you. Perhaps you are still grieving for Paul and if so I would suggest you are in need of some counseling. You must get on with your life, my dear; this kind of thinking is not healthy.”
Charlene looked at him, her face registering dismay and then anger. “How can you say such things to me, Brad? Your dismissal of this letter indicates a total disregard of yours and Paul’s and our friendship. When I called you I didn’t call an Army VIP, I was calling someone whom I gauged as a friend, but I can see things have changed.
“Please don’t let me take any more of your very valuable time, General Coleman; except for the chance to speak with Olivia again, it was pointless.” Her voice was cold as she stood and moved to the hallway and the front door.
Turning to face him she said assertively, “Oh, yes, there is one thing more, I am going to begin the process of having the body that is in Paul’s grave exhumed. It may take an act of Congress, but it’s going to be done! Then we can talk again about the letter being a hoax.”
His face became contorted by rage and pointing his finger close to her face “Don’t even think of doing such a thing, Charlene,” he hissed. “I will see to it that will not happen and you will be branded a foolish hysterical woman who has lost her senses; a pathetic victim of a cruel prank. Whose word do you think will be believed, yours or mine? Leave well enough alone!” he demanded. “Paul is dead. Nothing you can do will change that; but if you persist in this reckless action it is possible you could get hurt. Do I make myself clear?”
“How dare you threaten me..., get out!” she demanded. Not waiting for his reply she held the door open and gestured for him to leave. Wordlessly he pushed past her through the door not looking back.
✽✽✽
Driving back to the Olympic, still furious, he went over their meeting, the letter and the angry exchange that had followed.
The letter is authentic, it has to be; Kelshaw had it with him, but what about the rest of the merchandise? “Damn it!” he swore out loud. “I foolishly used the word transient. She caught it, but she was so angry she went on to other things...Chernakov. She knew he was a General.
Paul’s letter didn’t identify him as a General; there was no mention of rank. So how did she know? She has been talking to someone. Perhaps it was this Andrew Kincaid or someone else. She could be a problem. I don’t want that body exhumed.”
Brad was analyzing angles and planning contingencies. “The best I can do now is damage control. I’ll call her when I get back to the hotel and apologize; she’ll listen for Olivia’s sake. I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but that damned letter and Kelshaw. I wonder if Paul told Charlene anything else–did he mention Lia? It doesn’t matter; Lia’s gone and now so is Kelshaw. What did Kincaid learn about him? When I meet with Lyle I’ll find out about this Kincaid. Something in her voice tells me he could be more than just a good friend.”
At the hotel he hurried to his room, quickly called and reconfirmed his 8:00 AM meeting with Ramsey for the next morning. He ordered ice and soda from room service and after showering he poured himself a large scotch and soda and tried to relax before calling Charlene again.
Dialing her number he got her on the second ring, “Charlene, this is Brad, please don’t hang up....”
“What do you want, General?”
The Ice Princess herself, Brad thought to himself. This is going to be a difficult job. “Charlene, I’m so sorry I became angry earlier. I know I said some very harsh things. Your letter was quite a shock to me also; now that I’ve had time to think about it I feel that you could be right--it just may be authentic. I think I would like to take another look at it; that is, if you will let me,” Brad‘s voice oozed self deprecation.
“Well, I,” Charlene hesitated, “I don’t think so. I think we should just leave things as they are; you go back to your very demanding life and I‘ll work on solving the problem from here. Too much was said today to be swept away by a simple apology, Brad.”
“But, Charlene my dear, I really do want to be of help. You and Olivia and I go back too far to let this afternoon wreck our friendship. Please have dinner with me and let’s see what we can do about this very unfortunate situation.” He then added, “For Olivia’s sake.”
“No, Brad, perhaps tomorrow, but not tonight. I need some time. I’ll call you in the morning. If I do agree to see you again, it will be for Olivia’s sake.”
“Charlene, I completely understand. I have an early morning appointment, so let me call you when I get back in. Thank you for at least listening to my apology; please believe it is sincere.” He heard the phone click as she hung up. “Bitch!” he muttered.
✽✽✽
Still angry, Charlie went to the kitchen; she would make some tea. Tea always seemed a reasonable way of calming oneself. She was having difficulty comprehending Brad’s mercurial behavior. In some ways he seemed like the same old Brad, but there was the pompousness and she had never seen him so angry before; maybe those characteristics were always there. She argued with herself as she poured the water over the tea. The phone rang once, twice; she picked it up on the third ring.
She was glad to hear Andrew’s voice. “Hi, how are you? How did your meeting with Coleman go?”
“Not too well, I’m afraid. We had a serious disagreement and he threatened me. I asked him to leave and now I’m trying to cool down.” Her voice sounded slightly shaky.
“Threatened you? How? I’m coming over!” he was alarmed and angry.
“No, no Andrew, it’s all right now. Brad just called a few minutes ago to apologize.”
“Did you accept?”
She smiled at the impatience in his voice. “No, not at first, but I listened. He mentioned our friendship and my closeness with Olivia; I told him I would sleep on it and talk with him tomorrow.”
Andrew said something inaudible. “I want to see you,” he insisted. “I want to know about this disagreement you had with Coleman.”
“Andy, I’m fine, but come if you want to. I would like to see you too and talk about today. A
re you sure you have the time? Don’t you have a show?”
“Very sure, show’s recorded today. I’ll be there shortly.”
It was 4:00 when Andrew parked in front of the Thayer bungalow. He noticed her face was flushed as she opened the door.
“Come in, I made some tea; want some?” She asked. Her hand was shaking slightly as she poured a cup not waiting for him to accept.
“I guess I do,” he smiled. “Coleman really got to you didn’t he?”
“Yes, it shows doesn’t it?” she smiled gesturing for him to take a chair across the table from her, setting the tea on the table in front of him.
“A little; are you still upset?”
“Better now,” she said in a clipped phrase and then went on. “It was a strange meeting; I don’t really know what I expected Brad to do or say. But I never expected him to say the letter was phony.”
“He said it was phony?”
“Yes, but before that he asked about George Kelshaw and if he had given me anything else.”
“Such as what?” Andrew leaned forward. “Did he say what else he was asking about?”
“No, but he asked if Mr. Kelshaw had said anything else about the letter to the men who were with him when he died, you and Father Ben.
Then he said that the letter was a hoax and that I was fortunate that he had died.”
“Strange comment,” Andrew muttered. “What about the threat? How did that come about?”
“I told him that I would have the body that was in Paul’s grave exhumed and he--” She shook her head. “I’ve never seen Brad so angry! If I hadn’t been so angry myself I might have been a little frightened. But he made me so mad!”
Andrew couldn’t help smiling. He was struck by the fact that she wasn’t cowed by a top level general and held her own in the face of a threat.
“He told me that I could get hurt if I tried to exhume the body and that I would be made to look ridiculous. That I should leave well enough alone. Well, I won’t! I will find out! Anyway he called a short time later to apologize and I think he really was sincere.”
“What did he mean you could get hurt?” Andrew asked on a serious note.
“I don’t know, he didn’t say. But in fairness he really didn’t have time to explain; I told him to leave.”
“I wish I’d been here; he’d be picking himself up off the floor.”
“I don’t know, Andrew; he’s in pretty good shape,” she laughed.
“Come here.” He caught her hand and pulled her toward him.
“No, drink your tea. It will calm your nerves.” Still smiling she gently pulled her hand away.
“I don’t want any tea, and my nerves are just fine. Are you going to see him again?” He asked impatiently.
“I told him we would talk in the morning. I don’t know yet, but I am inclined to accept his apology. It could work to my advantage to do so. He said he acted in haste. I don’t really want to lose my friendship with Olivia or with Brad for that matter.”
“Okay, let’s go for a drive and talk about it, maybe find a bite to eat somewhere.”
“I’ll get my coat.” She said eagerly.
“I have an idea, let’s head over to West Seattle to the Beach Broiler and grab a bite and then go to my place.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Do you think that’s a very good idea?”
“The best,” he responded.
Chapter 11
Thursday, September 25. 1980
Lyle Ramsey had arrived in his office at 7:30 AM shortly after Connie Porter. She had already prepared coffee and juice and made a stop at a French bakery for croissants and pastry. A side table had been set with plates, silver and napkins. Lyle was appreciative. “What would I do without you, Connie; you second guess my every need.”
She smiled, “Thank you, Mr. Ramsey, I try. I know that you and General Coleman will not wish to be disturbed, so I thought I would take care of this ahead of time. He will be here at 8:00?”
“Yes”
“Do you need anything else?”
“No, I think you have everything covered, and thank you again, Connie.” He knew she would guard their privacy faithfully.
“You are most welcome, Mr. Ramsey!” It pleased her to please Lyle.
Promptly at 8:00 AM the polished elevator doors opened and General Bradley Coleman stepped into the reception area of Ramsey & Carr. Connie greeted him and escorted him to Lyle’s private office where she poured their coffee then excused herself.
“Good morning, General. It’s good to see you again.” The two men shook hands and proceeded to take advantage of Connie’s repast.
“Let’s get down to business, Lyle. I suppose you know what I wish to discuss with you?”
“I’m sure it’s the Kelshaw matter,” Lyle replied
“That’s right,” Brad told him. “I need to hear everything that’s happened, and if you were able to acquire the merchandise since we last talked and, if not, why not?” Brad went on “Also, I want to know if we are covered on this entire matter.”
Lyle quickly brought Brad up to date on all that had happened since Kelshaw was murdered and the unsuccessful attempts to find any of Kelshaw’s personal effects. “The two who were hired to take care of Kelshaw are dead, as is their employer. There is no trail leading to me or anyone else.”
“You are certain?” Brad asked tersely.
“Absolutely,” Lyle assured him. “I understand from my sources that the police are treating Kelshaw’s death as a mugging and robbery. The two who attacked him were window washers who were killed in a fall when the cables on their scaffolding gave out thirty stories above the street,” he continued, “It is also my understanding that the detective who employed them to kill Kelshaw met with a tragic accident while on a Sunday evening drive.” Lyle smiled at Brad. “The loose ends surrounding Kelshaw have all been tied.”
“Good,” Brad grunted, “We can’t have any slip-ups in that area.”
“Now,” Lyle went on, “About the merchandise, Brad, as I told you, every avenue was taken to find it. I understand that Kelshaw came off the Tsein-Maru with only the clothes on his back—no sea bag, nothing. My theory is that Kelshaw either left the country without the merchandise or perhaps he left it on the ship.”
“Hmm,” Brad stood up and paced back and forth as he listened and considered Lyle’s report.
Continuing, Lyle recounted the break-in at the Seamen’s Center and the search of Father Ben’s office, then the police Property Room and, lastly, Andrew Kincaid’s apartment.
“Lyle, tell me about this Andrew Kincaid; his name has come up in another context.”
“He is a political columnist and reporter for the Seattle Times. He has a daily program on radio station KGM where he discusses preset topics built around current events and then takes listener phone calls and comments on the air. He is quite popular and politically is considered a comer.
“Why do you ask about Kincaid? I can tell you both Kincaid and the priest were ruled out after a thorough search of the Center and Kincaid’s apartment,” Lyle stated. “I’m certain that if Kincaid or Father Lee had anything that belonged to Kelshaw, they would have turned it over to the police. But there was nothing in Police Property.”
“Did your source know of any other contacts that Kelshaw may have had before he was killed?”
“No, and I believe he was quite sure there weren’t any. Why are you asking, Brad?”
“Could this Kincaid be a problem?”
“It depends; he could be if he had some evidence of a story. He has his nose in a lot of things, including some of my business. He was at the hospital with the priest when Kelshaw died. That was why we gave special attention to searching his apartment. There wasn’t anything there and logically there would be no reason for him to have anything of Kelshaw’s. No, Brad, I doubt that Kincaid ever talked with Kelshaw. From what I can determine he went to the hospital to help Father Lee who is a close friend of his.”
&n
bsp; Brad was silent for a moment or so thinking of the letter to Charlene Thayer, but said nothing. Then he said, “I’m sure, Lyle, that you did everything that could possibly be done to get the merchandise. You got the more important job done, the disposition of Kelshaw. I’ll be in town for a few days and I will be in touch with you again before I leave. You know I’m staying at the Olympic if you need to reach me.”
The two men shook hands. Lyle walked Brad to the elevators.
“We’ll be in touch again before I leave, I’m sure,” Brad reiterated as the elevator doors closed.
✽✽✽
After seeing Ramsey, Brad was worried. “To hell with anything Kelshaw might have had on him. Right now, he thought, “I may have another problem; Andrew Kincaid. I have to stop Charlene from dredging up the past. I know how headstrong she can be, and now with Kincaid helping. I’ve got to find out what she knows and where she got her information and what her relationship is with this Kincaid. I wonder if she let him read Paul’s letter. I must convince her of my apology.”
After checking to see if there were any messages at the front desk Brad returned to his suite deciding to set the stage and call Olivia. He checked the time, it was mid afternoon in Virginia Beach; he might reach her at Maureen’s apartment. He needed to talk with her.
“Hello, Olivia? Thank God I got you! We really need to talk.”
“Brad? What has happened? You sound,” she paused, “unsettled.”
“I am somewhat,” Brad explained, in a calmer voice. “It’s Charlene, Olivia; we had a serious disagreement yesterday. It centered on the problem she called me about. I won’t go into all of it, but I fear Charlene could be close to a break down.”
“Oh Brad, no! She has always been so strong and rational. I can’t believe it. What happened?”
“Olivia, I tried to reasonably help her work through the problem, which is due largely to an over reaction to something that has happened. We had lunch and then went to her home to discuss the situation in privacy. After hearing her concerns, I tried taking a calm logical approach to the problem. She became very angry and almost irrational; quite honestly she asked me to leave, and although I later called and tried to apologize, I don’t think she believed I was sincere or that my apology was genuine.
While Rome Was Sleeping Page 25
