“Who is calling, please?”
Murphy hung up and stumbled backward into the house. The boys were just getting up from the table, now covered in dirty dishes.
“Murphy! What’s wrong?” Vesper helped her sit, then shooed her grandsons out of earshot.
“Bertie. I think I just heard someone murder Bertie.”
Now Vesper took a seat. “Oh, Lord.” The words were exhaled. Her gaze drifted to her grandsons in the living room.
“I have to go.” She stood on unsteady legs.
“No.” Vesper tapped the notebook. “How close are you to solving this?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know!”
Vesper called her grandsons to the table. “Boys, Murphy here has to stay out of sight for a day or so. Don’t tell anyone, I mean anyone, she’s here—”
The younger one looked chagrined. “Um, I put it on Snapchat.”
“What? Why?”
“The guys were talking about the bombing. I’m sorry, Grandma.”
Vesper jumped to her feet and peered out the window. “When?”
“This morning.”
Vesper pulled the curtain shut, then spun and looked at each of them in turn, eyes wild.
“Do you have family you could visit?” Murphy asked.
Vesper nodded mutely.
“Then it’s time for a visit.”
Vesper blinked and the wild look left her eyes. “Yes. Boys, go pack. When you’re done, Andy, go switch license plates between Murphy’s rig and the junker in the garage.”
“Those plates are expired.”
“Don’t argue. Peel the current date off her plate and put it on the old one. Adam, after you’re done grabbing your stuff, go to the library and check out a tiny book on local legends by Jonathan Wilson. Check them all out if there’s more than one. Go.”
The boys left.
Vesper picked up the phone and dialed. “Uncle, a favor. Can you drive Murphy to Arlene’s house out on Pasagshak? Yeah, that’s the one. I’ll pick you up there after I get some groceries. Because I want you to tell her about the rats and Ruuwaq Island.”
CHAPTER 26
Vesper hung up. “Uncle will drive you.”
“Pasagshak?” Murphy asked. “Isn’t that where the Pacific Spaceport Complex is located? And Fossil Beach?”
“There’s also a small residential community a few miles from there.” Vesper opened her purse and found a key ring that held a large number of keys. “I house-sit for a friend when she travels, which she does a lot. You can stay there for a few days. Maybe the police will catch the bomber in the meantime.”
The older grandchild entered. “Packed. On my way to the library.”
Murphy put out her hand. “Wait . . . um—”
“Adam.”
“Adam. Are there phone books, old phone books, at the library?” She tapped the name Leif.
“Don’t know. Probably. Or online.”
“Could you look up a name for me? This would be about ten years ago. First name of Leif. Last name starts with a B.”
“Sure. I guess.” He sauntered out of the kitchen.
She caught Vesper’s expression. “I know, a long shot.”
Vesper made a few phone calls while Murphy cleaned the kitchen. Arrangements made, the woman bustled off to pack. Andy gave Vesper a thumbs-up on the switched license plates.
Vesper returned with a small overnighter bag and a larger suitcase and handed the overnighter to Murphy. “The clothes you were wearing when you got here are clean. You’ll also find some toiletries and odds and ends.”
Murphy’s eyes blurred, and a giant lump formed in her throat. When she could speak, she asked, “Why are you doing all this for me?”
Vesper smiled and patted her on the cheek. “Lord’s working on you. For the record, I hold to Hebrews 13:2. ‘Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.’”
“I’m hardly an angel.”
“You took care of my granddaughter when I needed help. I don’t soon forget.”
The crunch of gravel announced a visitor. Vesper peeked behind the curtain. “Uncle’s here. I’ll need to give him something to eat before you go. Why don’t you work on your list in the living room? He won’t take long.”
Uncle—Murphy wondered if he even had a first name—tottered into the house and headed straight for the kitchen. With the notebook on her lap, Murphy returned to her notes.
What do I know that would make me a liability?
She knew the skull in the Quonset hut matched the photograph of Denali Stewart’s father. The photograph could have been from Ruuwaq. But the only person she’d told about that was Bertie. And Bertie might have been murdered. Could Bertie have confided in someone?
Maybe Murphy had seen something inside the Quonset hut when she’d looked around that last time, something important. A clue.
Wait, she hadn’t followed up on the metal object on the skeleton’s body. That photo was still on her phone. She returned to the kitchen and picked it up. Dead.
“Vesper, could I take that charger with me?”
“Sure.” Vesper glanced out the window. “Odd.”
“What?” Her voice was shrill. She tried again. “What’s odd?”
“A gray truck has driven slowly past the house twice now.”
Clinton Hunter? “I have to go.”
“I think you’re right.”
A car engine roared, followed by squealing brakes.
Vesper put a hand on Murphy’s arm and kept her from bolting. “That’s Adam back from the library.”
The young man entered and handed Murphy a small book and a scrap of paper. She read the paper. Leif Bjorkman, 324 W. Shoreline, Apt. 3. Leif H. Berg, 1252 S. Kodiak Way.
“The librarian helped me. Got anything to eat before we go, Grandma?”
“You can eat on the way.”
The young men left first in a battered pickup. Vesper backed Elin’s SUV out of the garage and turned it around for Uncle. The weather was cloudy, with a chill wind and the smell of wet earth.
Vesper gave Murphy a big, tearful hug. She returned it. The older woman had placed a blanket and pillow on the floor in the rear, with a second blanket to cover her. “God bless you. Keep your head down. I’ll join you as soon as I get the groceries. Arlene has an attached garage. Here’s what you need to open the door. Park this rig inside and stay indoors.”
Murphy stared at the slip of paper as she crouched on the floor of the vehicle and Uncle bumped down the lane.
“Uncle? Could we take a slight detour?”
“Vesper say I drive you directly.”
“How about a detour, then we could go to a drive-through? Grab some lunch.” She held her breath.
“McDonald’s?”
“Sure.”
“Subway?”
“If you’d like.”
“KFC?”
“Of course.”
“Where da ya want to go?”
She sighed with relief. “Let’s start with 324 West Shoreline.”
Uncle drove with one foot on the gas and one on the brake, jerking the SUV forward and backward. He often pushed both pedals at the same time. She was getting carsick.
The address belonged to a low-income apartment complex. Uncle parked on the curb. She jumped out, eyes scanning the unit numbers. Several children playing on the scrappy lawn stopped and stared at her. She hurried to the nearest building.
Apartment 3 was on the ground floor. A snow shovel, an empty bucket, and a single running shoe sat outside the door. In response to her knock, a small man in a wifebeater answered. He wore red flannel pajama bottoms and was barefoot. “Go away, kid, I ain’t buyin’ no cookies.” He shut the door firmly.
She ducked back into the car, heart racing. Olga said Leif had been like a father figure to Denali. That man was middle-aged. Try again.
“Dat did not take long. Can we go eat now?”
“Soon. We need to
visit 1252 South Kodiak Way.” She huddled on the floor, occasionally pushing herself up to check their progress. They drove in the direction of Fort Abercrombie before pulling onto Kodiak Way, a gravel drive. Deeply rutted driveways, most of which were not marked, peeled off from it into the woods. After driving back and forth and counting, they finally turned into an overgrown path and up to a small blue house with white shutters. Toys, bicycles, a swing set, and an empty wading pool filled the yard.
Her heart sank. An old man wouldn’t live here. Before Murphy could walk to the front door, a plump, black-haired woman with a baby on her hip came out. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Leif Berg.”
She frowned for a moment, then smiled. “The old man we bought this house from.”
“Do you know where he moved to?”
“Oh, gosh, I think he went into a nursing home or something. That’s been, let’s see, Rickie was just a baby, so over ten years ago?” She gently bounced the baby. “It took us almost a year to figure out his security system on the house. Everything was coded, but he didn’t write down the code anywhere.”
“That sounds like the right person.”
“We tried to just guess, but he’d actually set traps that locked down all the windows. What a mess! We finally got a company to just remove everything. Cost us a bundle.”
“Thank you.” Murphy returned to the car. “One more stop?” she asked Uncle.
“KFC?”
“No. Do you know of any nursing homes around here?”
“Ya. The nursing home at the top of the hill.” He nodded his head in that direction.
“Drive there.”
He twisted around and stared at her for a moment, then backed out of the driveway. She didn’t dare sit on the floor until they were out of the woman’s sight. It probably looked strange enough that she got into the back seat.
After several wrong turns, Uncle finally found the right road. They passed a cemetery filled with the distinctive Russian Orthodox crosses with three crossbeams.
She averted her eyes. Across the street was Perkins Headstones and Memorials. She memorized the name.
The sign in front of the nursing home said Providence Kodiak Chiniak Bay Elder House. It was an attractive, single-story beige structure with cream-colored trim. The location was spectacular, with Three Sisters Mountain on one side and Chiniak Bay on the other.
Murphy leaned forward from the back seat. “Uncle, I don’t think we’re going to get much information if I simply go in and ask for someone who may or may not be a patient. Would you be offended if I claim we’re looking for a place for you?”
“Are we going to eat afterward?”
“Sure. We’ll go to all your favorite places—McDonald’s, Subway, and KFC. Okay?”
“Okay den!”
“Just don’t say anything, no matter what I say. Just smile.”
“Okay den!” He smiled, revealing missing upper teeth.
“Wonderful. Let’s go.” She helped him out of the SUV and to the front door, then into a small foyer with a second locked door beyond. An open three-ring binder indicated she should sign in. She scrawled an illegible name, then waved at a mature nurse watching them from a nurses’ station. The woman opened the inside door. “May I help you?”
“Hi. My name is . . . Mary Andrews and this is . . . my uncle.”
“Okay den.” Uncle nodded at the nurse.
“The family is thinking about finding a place for Uncle and I’ve heard so many great reports about this place.” They moved to a spotless open area. A woman in a pink floral housedress with a walker was making her way toward a grouping of chairs, where a second woman was reading.
“Did you have an appointment?” The nurse had a friendly face and a name tag that read Frances Schwartz, CNA.
“No. I’m sorry, Frances. I was hoping to pick up a brochure and have the family look at it.”
Uncle smiled. “Vesper say we no stop, you know.”
She leaned close to the nurse and whispered, “Vesper was his wife. Died five years ago. He still acts like she’s alive.” Frances gave a knowing nod.
“I see. Well, you’d really need an appointment—”
“Also, we thought maybe, since we’re already here, we could see Uncle’s dear friend from the war, Leif Berg. It’s been at least ten years . . .” She held her breath.
The woman’s face creased with a smile. “Leif Berg? There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. I just loved that fellow, in spite of his OCD! What a sweetheart.”
Loved. Past tense. Murphy’s shoulders slumped. “So Leif has passed away?”
“Yes, poor soul. He was quite old, as I’m sure you knew. He died suddenly nine years ago, in the fall.”
“Oh dear.” She raised her voice as if Uncle was hard of hearing. “I’m sorry, Uncle, you won’t be able to see Leif today.” She patted his arm.
“Okay den.”
They turned to go.
“Wait.” The nurse chewed her lip for a moment. “I do have a photo of Leif. When there’s no family, I try to keep something to remember each of my people.” She blushed slightly. “I call the residents ‘my people.’ They’re like family to me.” She raised her voice slightly at Uncle and spoke slowly. “Would you like to see a photo of your friend Leif?”
“Okay den.”
Frances moved behind the desk and pulled out a bottom drawer full of files. After a few moments, she stood and flourished a photograph. She placed it on the counter in front of Uncle.
It was the same image Murphy had copied from the lodge, the one with the faint outline of a Quonset hut in the background. But this photograph showed two men. And one of them was the spitting image of Denali.
CHAPTER 27
Murphy gasped and grabbed the counter. With a trembling finger, she pointed at the dark-haired man. “Who is this?”
Frances snatched up the photograph. “I thought you said your uncle was Leif’s friend.”
“He is. It’s just that he looks so young in this photo I hardly recognized him. And standing next to him must be his . . . friend Paul Stewart?”
The woman relaxed. “Leif actually referred to Paul as a colleague.”
“The photo looks like it was taken during World War II. Isn’t that a Quonset hut behind them?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever tell you where this was taken?”
“There’s something written on the back.”
Murphy turned the photo over. Someone had scrawled a short sentence. The words were almost illegible.
“‘Our own private . . .’ What’s that word?” She handed it to the nurse.
“I’m not sure. Cywinard? Cyuinard? He never mentioned the location, so I’m not even sure this is the name of a place.”
Uncle tapped her on the arm. “Vesper say—”
“Okay, Uncle, let’s get you some lunch.” She smiled at Frances. “Thank you for your time.” Murphy took Uncle’s arm and headed for the door.
“Wait.”
She froze.
The nurse caught up with her. “You forgot to pick this up.” She handed Murphy a brochure.
Murphy took it, hoping her face didn’t reflect the relief she felt. “Thanks again.”
Frances followed them to the door, then watched as they walked to the car. Murphy opened the passenger side for Uncle.
“I will drive.” Uncle shook his head.
“I know, but that nurse may be watching. Just let me get us out of sight. I’ll turn the SUV around.”
He reluctantly slid in. She checked for Frances out of the corner of her eye as she got behind the wheel. The nurse was still watching.
She drove past the cemetery, then pulled over. Uncle took the driver’s side and Murphy lay down on the rear floor.
Uncle proved his memory to be sound. They picked up sandwiches at Subway, fries and a soda at McDonald’s, and a box of extra-crispy chicken tenders at KFC. She paid for it with Elin’s forty-seven dollars,
reducing the balance to fifty-seven cents.
The combination of the serpentine Pasagshak road and Uncle’s erratic driving made Murphy sick.
Concentrate on something else. Like rats.
“Are we far enough out of town that I can sit up on the back seat?”
“Police car behind us.”
A jolt went through her. If the officer stopped them and asked for the car registration . . . or ran the plates and found out they were expired . . . “How close is he?”
“Not real close.”
She drew her knees up to her chest.
Please don’t stop us.
“Ah!” Uncle drew in a sharp breath.
“What?”
“Police turn around.”
She waited until her heart rate returned to normal. “Uncle, please tell me about Ruuwaq. What’s the story your father told you about the rats?” He didn’t answer. Was he going to stonewall now? “Vesper wanted you to tell me.”
He tapped the brakes a bit harder than usual. Her head slammed into the back of the seat. He’d better start talking or she would start puking. She reached up and opened a window. The fresh air helped.
He finally spoke. “My father was with Castner’s Cutthroats in da beginning. 1942. Da navy needed an air base closer to da Japanese, so they looked at Adak Island, ’bout 240 miles away. But dey did not know if da Japanese were there also. So dey sent thirty-seven Cutthroats to look. Maybe kill any Japanese.”
She sighed impatiently. Uncle started driving again.
“The navy then hide a submarine. Dat is not an easy thing to do.”
She straightened. “Why did they hide a submarine?”
“Dey wanted everyone to think it sank. Dey report it missing in August. But it was not missing. It was to do things in secret.” He made a shhhh sound.
Finally. “What was the name of the submarine?”
“I do not know.”
“And what was the sub supposed to do?”
“First dey delivered supplies to the island. Ruuwaq.”
“Supplies?”
He didn’t answer for a few moments as he put the SUV through a series of tight turns. “Maybe for da men there.”
“What men?”
“Don’t know. We are almost there.”
Formula of Deception Page 18