“Hang on a minute,” Dad said. “Bernice, you have a doctor’s appointment first thing in the morning.”
“Well dang!” she said, frowning, “maybe we can go after my appointment. Would that be okay, Walt?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not. I’ll give Dad the address.”
“I’ll be a little late too,” Jerry said. “I promised to take the Professor to the drug store to pick up his medication. It shouldn’t take long.”
Better late than never! I thought.
The next morning, I picked up Kevin and we headed to Dr. Upton’s house.
“Where’s your posse?” he asked.
“They’ll be along later,” I replied. “They all had early morning errands.”
As we pulled into the driveway, Kevin remarked, “Well, here goes another wasted day.”
Just as he said those words, a huge black bird fluttered by and perched on a branch near the front door. It was a raven.
My mind began to race. “Maybe not. For the last month, everything I’ve been involved in has somehow been related to the works of Edgar Allen Poe.”
“So what’s that got to do with the price of beans? How does that help with our current situation?”
I thought for a moment. “The Purloined Letter.”
“The what?”
“The Purloined Letter. It’s another story by Poe. A letter that contained incriminating information was stolen by a person who was going to use it to blackmail an important figure. They knew who had taken it, and an investigator tore his house apart just like someone did here, with the same results. Ready to give up, another investigator got involved. Seeing what had already been done, the second investigator concluded that the letter had been hidden in plain sight, and had been overlooked because it was so obvious, and he was right!”
Kevin was confused. “And your little story helps us how?”
“The guy who was here before us tore everything apart looking for a secret hiding place. We spent all day searching for some hidden cache in the wall. What if the formula has been hidden in plain sight all along?”
“Okay, Sherlock,” Kevin replied, “let’s test this theory of yours.”
Standing in the front room, we looked around. There just wasn’t anything in plain sight or otherwise that hadn’t been turned topsy-turvy. In the library, every book had been pulled from the shelves and obviously rifled for hidden pages.
In the kitchen, pots and pans were scattered over the floor, and canned goods littered the countertops.
Then I spotted something that brought back memories, a Betty Crocker’s Cookbook.
My mom and my grandmother both had one.
I picked up the book and started leafing through. The first pages were Betty Crocker’s recipes, but toward the back, were handwritten recipes, Bran Muffins, Apple Crisp, Lemon Meringue Pie. Then I came to the next one and my mouth dropped open. Grandmother Lenore’s Esperanza Souffle.
“Kevin! I found it! I found the formula for the new autism drug. Kevin! Kevin?”
I turned around and the man who was standing at the kitchen door wasn’t my partner.
“Sorry to inform you,” he said, waving an automatic pistol, “but your friend is temporarily out of commission. But that’s of no consequence since both of you will soon be permanently out of commission.”
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“Who I am is not important, but I think you know what I want, and thank you for finding it for me.”
“Who sent you? Who are you working for?”
“That’s none of your concern. Now hand over that formula and we can get on with the messy part.”
I looked around, desperately trying to find a way out of my predicament, but a spatula and a frying pan were no match for his automatic pistol.
“Very well then,” he said, “if that’s the way you want to play it. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to get blood on the document.”
Just as he was about to end my career as a private investigator, I heard a voice behind him.
“Drop the gun, scumbag!”
It was Bernice and her .32. With all the confusion, I had forgotten that she and Dad would be late because of a doctor’s appointment.
My assailant glanced back, obviously surprised to see that ninety-pound senior citizen had gotten the drop on him.
“Well, what are you waiting for, douche bag?” Bernice said. “I’ll bet you’re trying to decide whether an old woman can hit the broad side of a barn. Are you thinking about testing me? Go ahead. Make my day!”
Then I saw his bravado turn to resignation. His jaw twitched, and a moment later, he was lying on the floor.
Bernice’s mouth dropped open. “I was ready to shoot him, but I didn’t think I would scare him to death.”
I knelt by the body and immediately detected the faint scent of almonds.
“You didn’t scare him to death, Bernice. He committed suicide. He had a false tooth containing a cyanide capsule.”
At that moment, Kevin stumbled into the kitchen. “Wha’d I miss?” he asked, seeing the body on the floor.
“Oh, nothing much,” I replied. “I just found the missing formula, this guy tried to take it away, then Bernice got the drop on him and he crunched a cyanide capsule.”
“Damn!” he said, rubbing the red knot on his head, “I missed all the good stuff.”
“The bad news,” I said, “is that we’ll probably never know who sent this guy. He chose to kill himself rather than be captured and reveal his employer.”
“Probably a good choice,” Kevin replied. “If it was big pharma that sent him, he knew they would find a way to take him out before he talked.”
I dreaded the call I had to make next.
When Detective Blaylock arrived on the scene and heard my unlikely story, he just shook his head. “You promised me you would stay out of trouble.”
“No,” I replied, “I promised to try.”
On the other hand, I was happy to make the next call.
“Suzanne, Walt here. I have the formula!”
“Fantastic!” she replied. “I knew I could count on you. And I have some good news for you. Dr. Upton has come out of the coma. I’ll call Alice Crawford and let’s all meet at Truman Medical Center. I’d like you to meet Dr. Upton, and you can deliver the formula to Alice at the same time.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The minute I walked into the hospital room and saw Dr. Upton, I knew I was right.
Suzanne and Alice were already there.
Suzanne led me to the side of the bed. “Walt, I’d like you to meet Dr. Joseph Upton.”
I smiled. “So happy to finally meet you, Jacob. You’re a hard man to find.”
From the look on his face, I was afraid he might lapse back into a coma.
“How --- how did you know?”
Suzanne and Alice were speechless. “Know what?” Alice finally asked.
“That my real name is Jacob Unger,” Jacob replied. He turned to me. “Again, how did you find out?”
My first clue was the raven that had perched in the tree beside his house, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
“It was the clever way you hid the formula in the cook book. Grandmother Lenore’s Esperanza Souffle. How many guys with the initials, J. U. have a grandmother named Lenore? You changed your name, but kept the same initials. And now that I’ve met you, you bear a strong resemblance to your father, Roderick.”
“I don’t understand,” Alice said. “Why change your name at all?”
“It’s my shameful lineage,” he replied. “Tell her, Walt.”
“All of it?” I asked.
He nodded. “Might as well. The cat’s out of the bag now.”
“It all started back in the 1970’s,” I said. “Jacob’s great-grandfather, Carl, wasn’t a nice man. In addition to being a thief, he also sexually abused his daughter, Lenore, Jacob’s grandmother. It continues to the point where Lenore could take the abuse no m
ore. She bludgeoned Carl to death in his bed, then, with the help of her brother, Galen, dismembered his body and hid it beneath the floor of their home.”
“That’s horrible!” Alice gasped.
“And that’s just the beginning,” Jacob replied. “Continue, Walt.”
“After dispatching her abusive father, Lenore discovered she was pregnant. She delivered twins, Roderick and Madeline. Both suffered serious afflictions due to Carl’s incest. In fact, their afflictions were so severe they prevented them from leaving the confines of their home.
“So there they were, brother and sister, confined to their home with virtually no contact with the outside world. It is sad, but somewhat understandable that they bore a child, and that child is Jacob.”
“So you see,” Jacob said, “that I am what I am due to the incestuous nature of my family. In so many ways it’s been both a blessing and a curse.” He turned to me. “How is it that you know so much about my family’s history?”
I pulled Lenore’s manuscript out of a satchel I had brought to the hospital. “It’s all in here,” I replied. “It’s a manuscript written by your grandmother, Lenore. My wife purchased an antique chest at a craft fair. I found the manuscript in a secret compartment in one of the drawers. In it, she tells her story from age eight until just before her death. Here,” I said, handing him the manuscript, “this should be yours.”
He took the yellowed pages, held them to his chest, and wept.
“I have something else,” I said, retrieving the letter Roderick had given to me. “It’s a letter from your parents.”
“You saw my parents?” he asked. “How are they?”
“Actually, I saw Galen and his wife, Bertha, and your parents. I’m so sorry to tell you that they have all passed.”
“Oh, dear! How?”
“Bertha and Galen died when their house caught on fire. Roderick and Madeline perished when their house was struck by lightning.”
I didn’t think he needed to know the grisly details of their deaths.
He sighed. “That means that I am the last living remnant of the House of Unger, and of course, there will be no more. My seed is tainted. No way in this world would I pass my heritage along to a future generation.”
He took the letter from me and read. When he’d finished, he wept again. “They loved me! They loved me and I abandoned them. I left them all alone in that horrible old house. I am a terrible son.”
Alice patted his hand. “Jacob, had you not left, you may never have become the man that you are. Think about the suffering that will be abated with your new discovery.”
“Yes,” he said, wiping his tears away, “there is that.” He turned back to me. “The map that was spoken about in the letter. What is that?”
I showed him the map. “Your great-grandfather, Carl, robbed the Plaza Bank in 1973. He hid the money, intending to retrieve it later, but he was killed before he could. Lenore found the map, but wanted nothing to do with his ill-gotten gains. She passed the map on to Roderick and Madeline, but their condition prevented them from pursuing it, so they have passed it on to you.”
Jacob shook his head. “My great-grandfather, a thief! How much did he steal?”
“$40,000,” I replied.
I saw the look of confusion on his face. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because a friend of mine and I followed the map and found the money that had been hidden for forty-six years.”
I picked up the ammo box and set on the side of the bed. “Jacob, this is yours. Roderick and Madeline wanted you to have it.”
“This is all so unbelievable!” he said, opening the box.
He looked at me. “But why? Why would you go to such trouble for people you’ve never met?”
I smiled. “Let’s just say I’m an old retired guy with lots of time on my hands.”
“Rubbish!” Suzanne said. “Walt Williams is one of the nicest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”
“Here,” Jacob said, handing the box of money to Alice, “I want you to use this to help get Esperanza manufactured and distributed to those who need it. Maybe, in some twisted way, it will atone for my great-grandfather’s sins.”
It had been a strange journey through the House of Unger, but thankfully, it had a happy ending.
CHAPTER 14
A few days later, I was reading the morning paper when there was a knock on the door.
It was Dad.
“Son, we need to talk.”
He sounded so serious, I feared something was wrong with him or Bernice.
“Is someone sick?”
“No, no, nothing like that. I want to talk to you about a friend of mine, Charles LaSalle. Bernice and I know him from our Wednesday afternoon tea dances at the senior center. At the last dance, he pulled me aside and asked if you are still in the P.I. business. When I told him that you were, he said he’d like to talk to you.”
“Any idea why he wants to talk?”
“It has to do with his brother, Louis. That’s all I know. Will you talk to him?”
“Of course. See if he can come over at two o’clock this afternoon.”
As soon as Dad left, I called Kevin. “We may have a new case. Can you be here at two o’clock?”
“Does Tinker Bell have fairy dust?”
I was bit rusty on my Disney characters, but I figured that was a yes.
The man who showed up with Dad was the spitting image of the French actor, Maurice Chevalier, who sang Thank Heaven for Little Girls in the movie, Gigi.
After introductions were made, I got down to business.
“How can we help you, Mr. LaSalle?”
“Please, call me Charles. It’s about my older brother, Louis. A year ago, due to ill health, we had to place him in a nursing facility. At first, everything seemed to be going well, but after a few months we began to notice some very disturbing things.”
“What kind of things?”
“At first, it was the weight loss. When he went into the institution, he was a robust 180 pounds. Within a few months, he was down to 150. He seemed dehydrated as well. Then we noticed some bruising on his arms, and then the bed sores. At first, he was happy to see us when we visited, but lately, he has become morose and reclusive. I think my brother is being abused.”
“That’s a lot more common than people think,” Dad said. “I’ve been doing some reading just in case Walt decides to ship me off.”
“Dad!”
“Just being cautious. Anyway, Recent studies of approximately 2,000 nursing home facility residents in the United States reported a growing abuse rate of 44% and neglect up to 95%, making elder abuse in nursing homes a growing danger. It said that up to 1 in 6 nursing home residents may be the victim of nursing home abuse or neglect every year.”
I was surprised my dad was so well informed.
“What’s the name of the institution?” Kevin asked.
“Ravenswood,” Charles replied. “It’s in south Kansas City on Holmes Road.”
My heart sunk when I heard the name. Even more eerie, it probably wasn’t very far from the rubble of the House of Unger. I thought after finishing the Jacob Unger case, I was finally through with Edgar Allen Poe, but there was that infernal black bird again, RAVENswood!”
“What do you want us to do?” Kevin asked.
“Investigate, of course. See what you can find out about the place. If my brother is being abused, surely there are others being treated the same way. I have to know. If he is being abused, they must be stopped.”
“We’ll have to find an excuse to snoop around,” I said.
“I can help with that,” Charles replied, pulling two postcards from his pocket. “Ravenswood is making a presentation at the Hereford House restaurant on Friday evening. Here are the invitations they mailed out. All you have to do is call in and register.”
I took the cards. “Sounds like a good place to start. As soon as we learn anything, we’ll be in touch.”
/> After Dad and Charles left, I handed Kevin one of the cards. “We should register separately.”
He looked at the card. “Well, if nothing else, we’ll get a free dinner.”
The first thing I did was check their website. As I suspected, they promised the moon.
At Ravenswood Senior Living Community, we believe in greeting each new day with a smile. We give our residents any assistance they need with daily activities so they can participate in everything else life has to offer. Our team organizes regular opportunities for our residents to stay engaged. Learn more about our amenities and services by visiting us in person.
We decided to go separately and not appear to be connected in any way.
I was met at the front desk by a guy who looked more like an undertaker than the spokesman for a nursing home.
“Are you here for the presentation?”
I held up my invitation.
“Follow me, please.”
A woman at the registration table, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Nurse Ratched in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, found my name on the list and checked me off.
“Find a seat,” she said. “Dinner will be served soon.”
I spotted Kevin and chose a seat across the room from him.
The meal was delicious, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans, followed by apple crisp for dessert.
As soon as the dishes were cleared away, the guy who looked like an undertaker stepped to the podium. For the next half-hour, he expounded on the advantages of spending one’s last days in the care of the staff at Ravenswood. Enhancing his song and dance, was a slide show depicting life at Ravenswood. Slide after slide of happy people in their dotage, all smiles and in good health.
After the presentation, each invitee was paired off with a Ravenwood representative. I got Nurse Ratched.
“Mr. Williams,” she said, reading my name from her list. “What is your interest in Ravenwood. You seem fit enough.”
“It’s my mother,” I lied. “We’ve been trying to care for her at home, but it’s just gotten too much for us. We need some help.”
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