Murder at the Bomb Shelter

by Lee Strauss

  Inside, the lobby ceiling arched heavenward, echoing with the clip-clopping of high-heel shoes as Janet Gainer walked briskly toward her.

  “Thanks so much for coming, Miss Reed.” She shook Rosa’s hand.

  Rosa returned, “It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Gainer. And you must call me Rosa.”

  “Of course,” Janet said, her cheeks blushing at her faux pas. The charade they were about to engage in required that they be old friends. “And you must call me Janet.”

  Janet led Rosa to the back of the house, through a wide, arched-ceiling breezeway and into a massive terraced backyard that featured three swimming pools, one on each terraced level. The top two pools cascaded water into the lower, larger pool, which also had a tile fountain at the center of it. Rosa was glad she’d worn her best party dress.

  Spotlights lit a manicured lawn that had palm trees and Roman-style facades that gave the entire back garden a surreal Romanesque ambiance. Rosa felt like she was taking a stroll through the garden of some ancient Roman emperor; all that was missing were the togas and tunics. Contradicting this illusion was a man playing soft jazz on a grand piano parked on the corner of the terrace.

  The gathering of about thirty people—a mix of men in designer suits and women in high-fashion dresses—paused their conversations when they spotted her with Janet Gainer.

  Since they seemed to have everyone’s attention, Janet spoke to the group. “Everyone, this is Rosa. She’s the niece of a dear friend of mine from London.”

  A young man with sandy-blond hair oiled back with a duckbill curl over his forehead approached. He held a drink in one hand and pinched a lit cigarette with the fingers of the other. He appraised Rosa appreciatively.

  “Colin,” Janet began. “I would like you to meet Rosa Reed, visiting from London. She’s the niece of a friend of mine. Rosa, this is Colin Monahan.”

  As he shook her hand, the man intently looked at her. His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Hey, I think there was a gal named Rosa Reed from London that went to high school here,” he said. “Was that you?”

  Now that Rosa saw him close, the fellow did look rather familiar.

  “Yes, I did go to school here for a time. Santa Bonita High.”

  He grinned crookedly. “I remember you. The only girl in the whole school with an accent.”

  Rosa had mentioned to Janet Gainer that she had lived in Santa Bonita as a teenager just in case this exact situation occurred. There was a good chance that anyone approximately Rosa’s age would recognize her if they had gone to the same high school.

  “It turns out that Janet and my aunt in London are acquainted,” explained Rosa.

  Colin Monahan’s eyebrows rose in question.

  “It was quite serendipitous that your Aunt Janet recognized me from a photograph my aunt sent in the mail,” Rosa said. The story was fabricated but plausible.

  “How could I mistake this face,” Janet added, motioning to Rosa with flair.

  Colin Monahan didn’t take his eyes off Rosa. She couldn’t tell if it was mere curiosity or something else.

  “What have you been doing since eleventh grade, Mr. Monahan? Did you marry?” Rosa asked with a warm smile. She wanted to start him talking.

  “Oh, well. That would be a long story, but in a nutshell, I ended up in imports and exports; and no, I have not found Miss Right just yet, though I am sure she’s around somewhere.” His eyebrow jumped in jest.

  Rosa chuckled, “I am sure she is. So, what does that mean, importing and exporting?”

  “Oh, I don’t think you’ll find it that interesting,” Colin Monahan said, dismissively.

  Rosa ignored the slight. “Of course I would. Come on, spill the beans.”

  Just then, a waiter came by with a tray of champagne. Rosa took a glass and raised it to her lips while keeping eye contact with Colin Monahan. She didn’t want to be flirtatious, but her purpose here was to get information, so if it meant a bit of friendly banter, she was fine with that.

  “Well,” Colin started, “for example, last year I set up a special international investment corporation and invited investors to participate in buying bulk goods from Asia and selling them to large American retailers like Sears and Roebuck, Macy’s, and Kmart stores.”

  “What kind of goods?” Rosa asked. She thought she saw a flash of guardedness come into his eyes.

  “Oh, anything from shoes to hardware items. Boring stuff like that.”

  “I’ve had some limited experience in the international retail and import business,” Rosa said, referring to her mother’s Regent Street boutique dress shop, Feathers & Flair. But it was just a half-truth. She didn’t know that much about international bulk import, but she brought it up to continue probing without being obvious.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I had an unfortunate experience, however, getting involved with family on some of the larger ventures. That turned out to be a bad idea.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Mr. Monahan shook his head ruefully then glanced about while taking a sip of champagne. “Well, if you ladies will excuse me.” He smiled and then nodded slightly to Rosa and Janet. “Enjoy the evening.” He walked away and back into the house, appearing rather in a hurry to disappear.

  “I believe you hit a nerve there,” Janet said under her breath. “Oh, there’s Mr. Gainer.”

  Janet linked Rosa by the arm and approached a gentleman with a full head of white hair, bushy white eyebrows over stern blue eyes, and a deeply lined face marking a perpetual scowl. Though stooped over slightly, Mr. Orville Gainer had an air of authority that demanded respect, or at least, obedience. Rosa couldn’t help but feel a slight tremor of intimidation.

  He eyed Rosa with suspicion. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Rosa Reed from London,” Janet said boldly. “She’s the niece of an old friend, and my friend now too.”

  His blue eyes bore into Janet. “What is she doing here?”

  “Oh, Orville, don’t be rude. I invited her.” She flashed the man a girlish smile. “I wanted her to see how well I’ve done.”

  Orville Gainer turned to Rosa and extended a hand. “A friend of Janet’s is a friend of mine. I hope you enjoy your time in Santa Bonita.”

  Rosa fought the sudden urge to curtsey. “Thank you, sir.”

  Thankfully, Janet led Rosa away, a little further out into the yard.

  “He’s frightful,” Rosa said.

  Janet huffed. “I wish I could say he’s all bark and no bite, but I’m pretty sure his bite is lethal.”

  Rosa hoped that was a metaphor.

  They approached an attractive, fit-looking couple in their mid-fifties talking near the water fountain. The man looked like he was of Italian descent with black hair graying at the sides and brown eyes. After introducing Rosa and explaining the London connection, Janet said, “Rosa, this is Leo and Valerie Romano. Valerie is my husband’s eldest sister.” Janet had explained the relationships to Rosa earlier, but it was good to make a show of presenting the information as if for the first time. Rosa was pleased to be able to put faces to the names.

  Leo Romano pointed his chin toward Colin Monahan who had rejoined the party. “I saw you talking to Colin.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Rosa said. “He seems like a nice young man.”

  “Uh-huh,” Leo took a sip of his drink with his eyebrows raised. “A nice young man is one way to describe him, perhaps. He needs a good wife to settle him down, though.” He smiled at her. “You’re single, aren’t you?”

  “Leo!” His wife jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, almost causing him to spill his drink. She then looked apologetically at Rosa. “Please ignore my husband. He gets a little too forward sometimes after a drink or two.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Leo Romano said and lowered his voice as he looked around the gathering. “I suppose this family has already had its share of rescue marriages.”

  His wife shook her head at him.

  Just then, a you
nger couple strolled by. The gentleman wore a crisp summer suit, cuffed at the ankles and had his blond hair trimmed short and oiled to the side in a sharp part. Handsome in an uptown way, his partner, a plump brunette and plain in appearance, paled next to him. Janet stopped the pair and then turned back to Rosa. “Rosa, meet my son, Sidney, and his fiancée, Debbie. Debbie is Leo and Valerie’s daughter. And yes, they’re cousins but didn’t grow up together, so it’s okay.”

  Rosa blinked at Janet’s obvious discomfort and a failed attempt to smooth it over.

  Sidney and Debbie extended a cool welcome.

  A man in his fifties with a short, brown pompadour joined them and put his arm around Janet. In his other hand, he held a cigar. He reminded Rosa of the Scottish actor Sean Connery who had appeared regularly in a BBC police series called Dixon of Dock Green, which her parents loved to watch.

  “Hello, everyone, so sorry I’m a bit late for the party. I hope Dad will forgive me. What do you think?” Before anyone could answer, he turned to Rosa. “Oh, hello.”

  “This is my friend Rosa Reed,” Janet Gainer said. “Rosa, this is my husband, Michael.” Earlier, Janet had told Rosa that her husband didn’t know she’d called on a private detective. She scolded him playfully. “He believes in being fashionably late.”

  “How do you do?” Rosa offered her hand.

  “I do alright, thanks.” He smiled brightly and turned to Janet. “So, this is the niece of the old friend you told me about?”

  “She is,” Janet said. With a sly grin, she added, “I wanted her to see what kind of family I had married into, so she could report back to her aunt just how well I did.”

  Mr. Michael Gainer inclined his head. “Well, it’s brave of you to come, Miss Reed. The Gainer family is a fruity bunch, all right. And I can say that because I was born into it. Those, like my poor wife, who’ve married into it had to learn the hard way.” His chuckle held little mirth.

  Michael guided Janet to the drinks table, and Janet waved for Rosa to follow. They interrupted a heated discussion in motion, and Rosa concluded that Dieter was the topic of interest.

  “Well, who knows what he’s up to?” A tall, bored-looking man said. “For all we know, he’s gone chasing after aliens or God knows what.” A woman beside him, standing so close that the two of them must have been a married couple, laughed as she lifted her drink.

  “Remember last year when he thought that the government was hiding alien spaceships out in the desert? Crazy German! I bet that’s where he is right now—somewhere in the Nevada desert with survival gear and binoculars.”

  Janet whispered in Rosa’s direction. “Frank and Alice Monahan. Alice is the youngest sister.”

  A man who must have been Walter Gainer—he was a younger Orville Gainer from head to toe—joined in with a smirk. “Or when he insisted that the Russians were going to invade Washington DC?”

  Leo Romano sipped his cocktail from a crystal glass. “I think Dieter was having flashbacks to the war when the Russians invaded Berlin!”

  Rosa noted the disdain in Mr. Romano’s voice.

  “Well, let’s not stand here and rag on Dieter,” Michael Gainer said. “I am sure Miss Reed is not interested in hearing all this.”

  Rosa wondered if Michael Gainer was deftly trying to change the subject, perhaps uncomfortable with talking about Dieter Braun at length with a non-family member present.

  “Wasn’t there a project he had a few years back?” Leo Romano said. He seemed lost in thought and was obviously ignoring Michael. “Something about some doomsday scenario…yeah, that’s it. I think he wanted to build a shelter. A fallout shelter he called it.”

  “Why is that so crazy?” Janet asked defensively. “Lots of people are concerned about a Russian atomic strike. In some schools, they teach children to ‘duck and cover’ and have drills to help them practice emergency procedures.”

  “I just don’t believe that stuff,” Leo Romano said dismissively. “If Khrushchev wanted to bomb us, he would have done it already. Besides, Dieter always takes things too far.” He took a sip of his drink and then thought for a moment. “I do remember him saying that he hired a large truck to transport building materials to some remote destination near their cabin by Lake Fairbanks.” He looked up at everyone as a new realization hit him. “I think he did build something crazy out there somewhere. I bet that’s where he is!”

  4

  Could Dieter Braun be working on a bomb shelter? Was it possible he’d somehow got trapped in it? Was perhaps even now pounding on a locked door with the air supply running out? The thought produced a sudden surge of urgency to Rosa’s quest to find the shelter.

  Before leaving the party the night before, Rosa and Janet had agreed to an early-morning trip to Dieter Braun’s cabin. Rosa’s Corvette wasn’t the right vehicle for the rough roads, so Janet had offered to take them in her Willy’s Jeep and drove to the front entrance of the Forrester mansion shortly after breakfast.

  Janet waved to Rosa through her open window.

  “Hi, Janet,” Rosa said as she opened the passenger door. “You don’t mind if I bring my cat?”

  Rosa had grown accustomed to the strange looks shot her way when she brought Diego along. “He thinks he’s a dog. He even comes when I whistle.” Sometimes. When the whistle sounds like pssst.

  “I don’t mind if he doesn’t mind,” Janet said. “It is a Jeep, so the drive will be bumpy, and there could be predators.”

  Rosa felt a stab of concern. “Predators?”

  “Coyotes. Raccoons. That sort of thing.”

  The only wild creatures Rosa ever had to think about in England were foxes and deer, and neither posed much of a threat to cats.

  Janet smirked at her hesitation. “He’ll be fine. Get in.”

  “I’ll be sure to keep him in my satchel.” Rosa had chosen a brown one with small blue polka dots for this outing.

  It was an hour and a half drive due east from Santa Bonita; an hour was on the paved highway after which, at a little town called Caldwell, Janet turned onto a dirt road. They chatted about England—No, Rosa hadn’t met the new queen, and no, she couldn’t imagine being thrust into such a role at such a young age—and California—did one tire of the constant good weather? They listened to the top forty on the radio, which lost reception as they got further into the wild.

  As the Jeep slowly gained altitude on the winding road up to the glacier-fed Lake Fairbanks, Rosa took the time to question Janet about bits of conversations she had overheard at the party the night before.

  “What did Mr. Romano mean when he mentioned ‘rescue’ marriages?”

  Janet shifted into a lower gear as they climbed around another switchback. The ponderosa pine forest got thicker, and the air slightly cooler with each passing mile. “He was probably referring to Walter and Patricia.” She hesitated for a long moment, obviously reticent to talk about it.

  Rosa waited, letting the silence draw out, and was rewarded.

  “When Walter Gainer met Patricia, she was an alcoholic. In fact, she had just divorced her first husband and was having a bad go of it. From all accounts, the alcohol had much to do with the divorce, though I don’t know the details.” Janet rubbed her forehead as if she could erase the lines that had formed there. “Anyways, she didn’t have any children with her first husband either; that marriage didn’t last very long. She managed to hide her heavy drinking, and Walter and Patricia were married less than a year later. Patricia was almost penniless at the time, and of course, Walter came from significant money.

  “The whole Gainer family vehemently opposed the marriage, and even after they were married, there was a lot of criticism leveled at Walter for marrying a ‘gold-digging lush’ as Orville Gainer called her.”

  “How awful!” Rosa said sincerely. The saga of this family seemed to get darker and darker as the conversation progressed.

  “Over the years, there have been lapses of alcohol abuse followed by stints with Alcoholics Anonymous. She�
�s been sober now for almost sixteen years, but the stigma continues in the Gainer clan. She married Walter for his money, and he is too naive to realize it, at least that’s what the perception is. However, I can tell you firsthand that their marriage appears solid. They have their moments, like any married couple. But from what I can tell, they are devoted to each other.”

  Eventually, the road led them to a small lake. Along the way, they had passed several properties with cabins nestled in the forest. But as they continued around the edge of the lake, Rosa noticed there were no more access roads or properties. They continued until Janet veered to the right and followed an even rougher road, which turned out to be a driveway to a small but nicely kept log cabin. Situated close to the quiet, sun-dappled lake, the dwelling had a dock that extended into the water. A rowboat was tied to one of the pillars. The scene was so idyllic that Rosa pictured herself reading a book with Diego on her lap, and curled up in front of a fireplace.

  The tall ponderosa pines stood like silent sentinels shading the cabin, allowing just occasional shafts of sunlight to break through. Only the wide porch had the sun shining directly on it.

  They climbed out of Janet’s Jeep—both had chosen sensible outfits of Capri pants and sneakers. Rosa carefully took Diego out of her satchel and placed him on the grassy ground. She watched him closely in case he decided to scamper off, but he just sniffed the surrounding ground. He looked a bit frightened.

  “It’s a great big world out here, isn’t it, little fella?” Janet said.

  Rosa stood for a moment and listened. It was the quietest place she had ever experienced. The absolute absence of man-made sounds overwhelmed her. Inhaling deeply, she let the pine-scented air fill her lungs and clear her head. She removed her Argus 35mm camera from its case and a notepad from her satchel, and then picked up Diego to put him back inside. He seemed eager to climb in again.

  Janet knocked on the cabin door. “Dieter?” She knocked louder the second time and shouted the man’s name.

  When there was no sign of him nor anyone else, Rosa said, “Do you think he might be inside? Perhaps he’s in trouble. He might need our help.”