Return from the Shadows-Ivan Dunn the Final Chapter

by Frank A. Perdue

  “Yeah, in the morgue. He was shot and killed right after you were hit. It’s not a good idea to plan a murder when there are lots of cops with guns on the premises.”

  Rachel had been reasonably quiet up till then, but now she spoke, “How do you feel?”

  “Not too bad considering. What day is this?”

  “It’s Monday.” And she added, “You’ve been out for a day and a half.”

  It was my turn again, “You really don’t know who Harold Lambright was?”

  “No. Why should I?”

  “He was the grandson of John Lambright, according to what Rachel told me.”

  Phillip had a puzzled look on his face. “I’m confused. Why was he after you?”

  “It’s a long story. The short version is I put him away for a few years.”

  “Oh.” I was sure he wanted to add, I understand, but I knew he didn’t. How could he? He’d been on the run, thinking he’d be hunted as a murderer, after what happened in the bank. He’d killed John Lambright in self defense while futilely trying to save his own father. The gun went off in the struggle, and the projectile went into the ceiling, by way of the head of John Lambright. The authorities eventually ruled Lambright had taken his own life, after killing Phillip’s father, because he’d been ruined by the crash of the stock market.

  Phillip, distraught over what happened, ran to his then girlfriend’s house, one Rachel Embree. He told her everything. Before he ran away, they made love for the one and only time. I knew all this because his Rachel became my Rachel eventually, and she had told me.

  I never learned the whole story. I was late joining the hunt, 1950 to be exact. I never caught up. By the time I located his wife, one Margaret Lee, he’d apparently been a casualty of World War II. It wasn’t until he walked into our home two days ago that I learned he’d survived the sinking of his ship.

  Rachel was talking. “You know, I never realized how much you and Ivan look alike until now. What a coincidence!”

  I looked at him more closely. A nurse had shaved off his beard and mustache, for what reason I couldn’t say. He wasn’t shot in the face. I didn’t want to come clean about our relationship just then, so I changed the subject. “Have they said when you can leave this place?”

  He’d been studying Rachel. He looked back at me, “What did you say?”

  “When do you get out of here?”

  “I’m hoping the doctor will release me this afternoon. He’s supposed to see me before lunch.”

  Rachel smiled, “That’s good news. You’ll come stay with us of course, until you feel strong enough to get on with your life.” It wasn’t a question. She hadn’t asked my permission, and now she was looking at me, pleading with her eyes.

  “Yeah. We won’t accept a no.” I glared at my wife, but I didn’t mean it.

  ------

  We were at the Mercy Hospital in the Hillcrest district of San Diego. It was the same place they’d brought the Sheriff’s deputy who’d been shot by Lambright, before the shootout upstairs.

  I excused myself, telling Rachel I’d be right back, and I walked down the hall to the room Ted Springstone occupied. I felt guilty for him having been shot while trying to protect us.

  When I walked in he was sitting up in bed, his right arm in a sling. “Who are you?” he said inquisitively.

  I just realized we had never met. Here he’d been sitting outside our home for days, and I’d never bothered to introduce myself. “I’m the guy you were protecting, and thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “The itching is the worst part.” He pulled the sling away with his left hand to reveal a cast extending from his shoulder to his wrist.

  “I didn’t know you broke your arm.”

  “Yeah, the slug made a direct hit, up near the shoulder. The bone shattered. I’ll be out of commission for a while, but I’ll still get paid,” he smiled.

  “That’s a good deal.” I said it, but I felt worse. I hadn’t known the extent of his injuries. I just thought it was a flesh wound.

  “It’s great that you got the guy though. That was really stupid of him to go upstairs after he shot me. I couldn’t have raised my arm to fire my gun, if my life depended on it, and it would have, if he’d come out that door.”

  “Yeah,” I replied, “ironic isn’t it? He could have probably got away clean, with maybe a dead cop to show for his effort.”

  “You’re saying I’m lucky to have just a broken arm.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “Is that what they mean when they say a glass half full?”

  I didn’t know whothey were, so I let it go. I wished him good luck before leaving, and then I went back to Phillip’s room. I still had to straighten out the little item of why we looked similar, a fact I’d conveniently kept from my wife.

  Chapter Forty-one

  The day wasn’t shaping up too well for me, even though the sun was out, the birds were chirping, and my beautiful wife was in a good mood.

  “What a glorious day,” she stated exuberantly. “We’re not under any threat that I know of. Phillip is recovering,” and she added, almost facetiously, “and we had a party no one will soon forget.”

  “We did that.” What else could I say? Our new houseguest was tucked away in an upstairs bedroom, still a little weak from his ordeal, and Rachel and I were alone at last. Might as well get to it.

  “There’s something I kind of neglected to tell you.”

  “What’s that, my darling husband?” She moved to sit down on the love seat next to me.

  “I’m not sure how to tell you this.”

  “You have a mistress.” She didn’t really believe that. She was just being cute. I hated to spoil her mood, but that’s just what would probably happen.

  There was no way to kind of ease into it and the words were not exactly forming in my head. “I have a brother I never told you about.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief,” and she took my hand. I thought it was something really serious.”

  “Well it is, sort of.” Here we go, into the fire. “It’s Phillip.”

  “What?” Her eyes flashed, and she quickly removed her hand from mine. “What are you saying?”

  I’m telling you the only other man you’ve ever made love with is my brother. Why are you so mad? I didn’t really say that. What I did do was throw myself on her mercy. “I’m so sorry baby. I found out after I thought he’d been killed in the war, and didn’t want to make it any worse for you.” Maybe that will smooth things out.

  No such luck. She stood, saying nothing, with a look of unbridled anger on her countenance. She then stormed out into our kitchen, a workplace that might become just hers soon, if I couldn’t smooth this over. I followed her but she slammed the door in my face. This was going well.

  I spoke through the door, “Can’t we work this out face to face?” Silence.

  I decided to take a ride, and let her cool off. I took the Caddie to Joe’s apartment. Maybe I could recruit an ally there.

  My hands were clammy as I navigated down the hill toward Pacific Beach. I felt terrible, and I hadn’t told her everything. Not only that, I still had to tell Phillip. Then I would have to tell Thomas his father wasn’t deceased after all, and it was someone he met at the party. I had no idea at that point Phillip and Thomas had met in Japan, though I knew he was there at Thomas’s wedding. What I should do is let Phillip tell Thomas. Maybe our new houseguest could get me off the hook with Rachel too.

  No one came to the door when I knocked at the apartment, so I wandered back to the car, wondering what my next move would be. I decided to swing by the Sheriff’s substation in Pacific Beach, not far from where Joe and Ariel had found a place to live.

  It was lunchtime when I arrived, and there was hardly anyone at the station house. I was lucky though. One of them was my cowboy protector, Everett Paulsen.

  “Hello Ivan. How did you know I wanted to see y
ou?”

  “I didn’t. I’m in hot water at home, and I’m giving my wife time to simmer down.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it works out.”

  “I’m sure it will,” and I added, “in time. What did you want to see me about?”

  Paulsen looked at me. “I’m working on the report of what happened at your house. I’ve talked to the FBI about this, well Harry Shields anyway. I just got off the phone with him.”

  “Yes?”

  “The coroner pulled three slugs from the body of Harold Lambright. Apparently one missed. We’ll probably find it in the wall of the staircase leading down to your basement.”

  “You’re saying one of us missed?”

  “That’s right. And since you’re the only civilian, we’ve decided you missed. In fact, in my report it states you didn’t even fire a gun.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s a little self-serving actually. Why draw you into it if we don’t have to. The man is dead. It doesn’t really matter how many shots were fired. It makes it easier for us, and better for you. You won’t have to come make a statement, and we can wrap this up with the one report.”

  Having been in law enforcement, and made out many reports in my day with Naval Intelligence, I could see what he was getting at. It would save some headaches all around if I was kept out of it. So I gave him and his report my blessing.

  When I arrived back home Rachel was still in the kitchen. This time, however, the door was open. I walked in, reaching for her.

  She pulled away. “Making up is not that easy,” she told me.

  “Can’t we get past this? Do I have to sleep on the couch?” That was symbolic. We have lots of bedrooms.

  “I haven’t decided.” Her face was still screwed up into a frown.

  “Well, as long as I’ve already messed up your day, there’s something else.”

  “Oh no, what?”

  “We’re only half as rich as we thought. Phillip, as my half-brother, and Elizabeth Brecker’s heir, is entitled to half the inheritance.”

  Suddenly Rachel laughed. “And that, my devious husband, is just punishment for your omission. If I stay mad, that would be double jeopardy. So you are hereby forgiven. I may make you do the lunch dishes though.”

  Now that I was off the hook with my wife, I headed upstairs to talk to my brother.

  He was lying down, but he sat up when I entered.

  “How do you feel?” I began.

  “Much better thanks. I feel like a king, being here in the lap of luxury.”

  “Well, you can get used to it, because that’s the way your life’s going to be from now on.”

  He smiled, “Why, are you going to adopt me?”

  “Not exactly. No paperwork needed.”

  “Okay. I’m confused. What do you mean?”

  I had been standing by the bed, but now I sat down on the edge. He scooted over to give me more room.

  “I’d better start at the beginning. In 1950 I was hired to find a missing person. His name was Phillip Atchison the third. It turned out that the woman who hired me was your mother.”

  “Elizabeth? So she was still alive in the 50s?”

  “Yeah, but not for long. She passed away later that year. She left me a letter. In it she had written that I was her son---.”

  “What?” Phillip was incredulous.

  “Don’t interrupt. I’m on a roll. Anyway, I won’t go into all the particulars, but we had different fathers, so we are only half-brothers. Thinking you had been killed at sea, I inherited her money, which was considerable.”

  “How considerable?”

  “Millions. She married well after your father was killed in that bank.”

  Just then, Rachel came into the room, a concerned look on her face. “Do you understand everything Ivan is telling you?”

  “I think so. I already know Thomas is my son, but now, crazy as it seems, you are not only the mother of my son, you’re also my sister-in-law.”

  I could hear the phone ringing downstairs so I hurried to answer before whoever it was hung up. It was the doctor who had attended to Phillip.

  Rachel accompanied us as I drove Phillip back to the hospital. The doctor had stressed that it was imperative that he speak to my brother as soon as possible. With me he was very evasive.

  We were both surprised when Phillip was admitted as an inpatient immediately upon our arrival. We were directed to the visitor waiting room where we sat for over an hour wondering what was going on.

  When a man in a white coat approached us we assumed he was the doctor who had called, and we both spoke at the same time, asking what was going on? He cleared his throat before speaking.

  “I’m sure you are confused by this turn of events, and I apologize for any evasiveness on our part.”

  “We just want to know if Phillip is all right, Rachel stated.

  “Who’s Phillip? Aren’t you relatives of Mister Harrington?

  I jumped in, realizing what had just occurred. “Sorry Doctor. It’s just a private joke. We call him Phillip to get under his skin. He hates that name, because he had an enemy when he was a kid with that moniker.”

  “Oh, I see.” He didn’t really.

  “Are there complications from his surgery?”

  “It’s more than that. We have to remove a kidney.”

  Rachel spoke up. “That’s terrible, but can’t he survive on one kidney?”

  The doctor answered, “Normally yes. But you see, he only has one.”

  My wife began to sob, “Are you telling us he’s going to die?”

  “I’m afraid that is the prognosis,” and he added, “unless we can find a suitable donor for a transplant, and if the operation is successful, and his body doesn’t reject the new organ. It’s a huge if.”

  “Oh my God,” Rachel exclaimed.

  “I don’t want to give you any false hope. Are either of you related by blood?”

  I spoke up, “I am Doc.”

  “You’ll have to be tested. Is that all right?”

  “I’m ready.” I looked at Rachel.

  “Is the operation dangerous?” Rachel asked the man in white.

  “Yes, as every operation has some degree of risk, but I’m afraid it’s the only chance your friend has.”

  “I’ve got to do this baby. I may not even be compatible, since we are only half brothers.” To the doctor I said, “Where do I go doc?”

  “Follow me. We’ll get you prepped. The test won’t take long, just a simple drawing of blood.”

  It turned out my blood wasn’t compatible after all. They could do the transplant using one of my good kidneys, but the operation would probably just buy the patient some time, since it was almost certain the kidney would be rejected. That was all explained to me while I was waiting to be prepped just in case.

  I didn’t think of it. Rachel did. “Thomas is Alan’s son. We could ask him.” She didn’t want to put her son at risk, any more than she did me, but it was a human life at stake, one she had a history with. She couldn’t let him just die. The decision would be up to Thomas, and he didn’t even know his father was still alive.

  The doctor wanted to talk to Thomas immediately, but Rachel balked. “Let me ask him.”

  “You’ll have to do it right away. We don’t have much time.” The doctor looked concerned. He continued, “You’ll need to explain to your son the danger. The first transplant of a kidney didn’t occur until 1950, and it’s been only recently that anti-rejection drugs have been developed. A successful transplant was performed in 1954 in Boston, and the patient is still alive today, so we are very hopeful.”

  “I’ll tell him all of that. It will at least be an informed decision on his part.” Rachel answered.

  I wasn’t privy to the conversation between Rachel and Thomas, but my wife told me later what had occurred. At first Thomas was angry that he hadn’t been told right away that his father had survived the war. Then they both cried, as he real
ized that, with the confusion that had ensued, and the shooting, there just hadn’t been time to explain. He agreed to be tested, and if they were compatible, he would go through with the surgery. He couldn’t imagine finding his father again, and then losing him because he wouldn’t have the operation. There wasn’t time to explain everything to Kim. She had gone up to Los Angeles to visit a countryman who’d come to this country the year before. She knew nothing about this latest development. She’d just have to trust he was doing something over which he had no choice.

  The operation was performed two days later over the objections of Phillip/Jeb/James/

  Alan. Both patients survived.

  Kim, to Thomas’s relief, understood completely the decision of her husband, and she loved him even more, if that was possible.

  Later, after they both had recovered fully, Phillip and Thomas were able to sit down and become reacquainted, as father and son. As a sign of the times, after both had traveled separate paths for all of the younger man’s life, they shook hands. They were friends. Maybe love would come later.

  The End of a Novel by

  Frank A. Perdue

  Now enjoy a sample of

  THE COLOR OF DECEPTION-an Ironic Black and White Tale of Love, Tragedy, and Triumph

  As the sleek powerful silver Boeing 707 lifted off the runway, Ted Warner tensed, his shoulders pushed against a giving seat back. Even with all the flying he had done in the last few months, he was sure he would never conquer his fear of takeoffs. He knew the dynamics of flight; the good forces of lift and thrust conquering the evil gravity and drag. It wasn’t the physics that bothered him. It was the human thing. What if the pilot pushed the wrong button, or an improper lever?

  He tried to distract himself by peering out the window. Oh Great, he thought, at least the wing is still there. He wondered why some enterprising scientist hadn’t invented a see-through surface for aircraft. He abandoned that line of thought quickly when he heard a loud thump as the giant wheel carriage retracted into its hiding place on the fuselage. Again Ted’s body betrayed his fear. The lights of Honolulu were visible behind the giant wing. It was too dark to see anything else. Beyond the clustered lights was only the blackness of a moonless night.