Harvey thought about three men, now in their early fifties, free but haunted by a shared secret. He held out the yearbook. “Could you show me a picture of Philip Whitney?”
“Sure.” She thumbed through the pages of senior portraits. “Phil was in custody during graduation. The whole class was upset. The trial didn’t come up until the next fall. There.” She pointed to the picture of a clean-cut young man looking over his shoulder at the camera. His gaze was direct, his mouth straight and firm. He looked like a decent kid.
“Did you like him?”
“Sure. Everybody did. When he was arrested, everyone said there was no way he’d done it. We all debated whether the pocketknife had been planted there, and whether there weren’t thousands of knives just like it. But he wasn’t released until fall, and most of us were scattered. I don’t think many of the class had contact with him after that.”
“Did you have reunions before he died?”
“We had a five-year and a ten-year reunion. Philip didn’t go.”
She paged through the yearbook to the sports section. “That’s him.” She pointed to a photo of Philip Whitney, smiling with his arm around another boy. Both wore basketball uniforms.
“Who’s the other kid?”
“Matt Beaulieu.”
“Beaulieu. He wasn’t at the Fort Point reunion.”
“No. He never comes to our reunions. He was Philip’s best friend.”
“Where does he live now?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since graduation. He was going into the service. Cyndi Rancourt Reynolds might know. She organized the last reunion and sent notices to all the class members. If anyone has his address, she does.”
“Do you think Matt Beaulieu was one of the other boys in the book? Jason, Larry, or Danny?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“May I take this?” Harvey hefted the yearbook.
“I’d hate to lose it.”
“I’ll take extra good care of it.” She let him borrow it, and he and Eddie walked out onto the sidewalk. The sun was working overtime. It was 80 degrees and climbing.
“What now?” Eddie asked.
“I think we call Mrs. Reynolds for an address for Matt Beaulieu, and maybe the rest of the class members who skipped the reunion. We’ll talk to some of the people who were there thirty-five years ago, but don’t go to the reunions because they’re too painful. And I’ll get clippings from the time of the burglary.”
*****
Cyndi Reynolds shared the class mailing list with them, and Harvey began to realize what they were up against. The reunion goers were a small portion of the class. Many of the those who hadn’t attended the reunion lived out of state. Three, including Philip Whitney, were known to be deceased. Eddie spent a while on the phone with her, going through Patricia’s yearbook and checking off names on his list.
They divvied up the names with Nate and Tony, and they all began calling. Harvey tried Matthew Beaulieu’s last known phone number, but got an out-of-service recording. He called Cyndi Reynolds again.
“Matt was in the Navy,” she said.
“Career man?”
“I think so. He and Philip Whitney were going to enlist together, but Philip was…”
“In custody?”
“Yes, you know about that.”
“Yes. So his buddy Matt joined up without him?”
“I guess so. I haven’t seen Matt since graduation, but he was in San Diego last year. That’s where I sent the notice in April, for the reunion at Fort Point, and it didn’t come back.”
Harvey searched on the Internet for Matthew Beaulieu in the San Diego area, and turned up three.
Tony came over to the desk. “I’ve reached a Melissa Carter Duncan. She lives in Falmouth, Massachusetts. She said she would have come for the reunion, but it was too far, and she had to work. She also said she dated Philip Whitney a few times their senior year.”
“Before the burglary?”
“Yes. She never saw him after. Tried to go to the trial, but her parents wouldn’t let her.”
“And?”
“She carried the torch for a while, refusing to believe he did it. When he was acquitted she sent him a note, expressing her undying support and devotion. She never got a reply.”
Harvey rubbed his chin. “Make a note of it. We may want to talk to her again later.”
Paula screened the calls, but the phones rang constantly, and the lines were tied up all afternoon. They asked a few people to come in the next day for interviews.
Harvey called John Russell and asked for copies of articles about the burglary and the time when Blake’s first book was published and Philip Whitney died. Russell agreed to ask the newspaper’s librarian to search the archives, but he expected a scoop for Ryan in return, if their efforts helped solve the case.
“I can live with that,” Harvey said, “but please do not publish anything connecting the old burglary to Blake’s murder unless I give you the word.”
“We’re agreed,” Russell said. “I’ll have the librarian email you the reports you want.”
When the patrolmen’s shift ended, Harvey told Tony and Nate to go home. “Do you guys mind if I request for you to work with us again tomorrow?” he asked.
Tony grinned. “That’s great.”
Nate nodded. “This beats traffic duty any day.”
They still had about a dozen classmates they hadn’t been able to reach, including Matt Beaulieu. Harvey had started asking the other class members about him and his family. He had Eddie look for Beaulieus in the phone book and called them one after another, hoping to find relatives, but there were dozens of listings.
Jennifer and Sarah came to the office at five o’clock.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
“You look tired,” Jennifer said.
“I am.”
“Do you and Eddie still want to go to the auction?”
“Yeah, just about.”
Sarah had changed from her uniform into dark pants and a cotton knit top. Jennifer wore a split skirt and T-shirt, her work clothes that day. Her hair was in French braids that were bound to the back of her head, a cool hairdo for a hot day in a simmering office.
“Thanks for letting us come up,” Jennifer said. “It’s cool in here.”
“They ought to get A.C. in Records,” Harvey said. “The heat can’t be good for your computers, let alone all that paper you file.”
They ended up not buying anything at the auction. None of the furniture appealed to Jennifer and Harvey. He bid on a shotgun, but it went too high. They ate hot dogs and pie and came out at nine-fifteen feeling a little disillusioned with the evening.
“Let’s get a drink,” said Eddie.
Sarah said, “Let’s.”
“Okay,” Harvey said cautiously, not sure what Eddie and Sarah were thinking of drinking.
“Sodas?” said Sarah.
“You got it.”
After the Burger King, Harvey drove them back to the station to pick up their vehicles. He pulled into the garage and stopped behind Sarah’s car. Eddie hopped out and unlocked the car for her. Harvey started to put the Explorer in gear, then stopped. Eddie was kissing Sarah. He looked at his watch, then at Eddie. His dark head was bent, and Sarah’s arms were pale against his black shirt.
“What are we waiting for?” Jennifer said softly.
He looked at his watch again. “Seven seconds. Pretty serious.” He shifted into drive, and they rolled quietly out of the garage.
“You judge people’s relationships by how many seconds they kiss?”
“It’s one indicator.”
“You should have been a scientist.”
He drove her home and gave her a kiss longer than Eddie’s at the door. “Now, tell me this relationship isn’t serious,” he said.
“I never doubted it.”
“Jenny, I don’t think I want the promotion.”
She stepped away from him and looked at his face i
n the light from the porch lantern.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m so stressed right now, I don’t think I can add something else. The responsibility, and being accountable to the chief every day. It’s really a burden, with Mike gone. I don’t know if I could do this all the time.” He took his glasses off, put them in his pocket, and rubbed his eyes.
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “If that’s the way you want it, it’s fine with me. I just want you to be content.”
“I will be, with you. I just don’t know about at work. Everything’s going to be different when Mike goes.”
“You could get a new captain who’s harder to work for.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you could get reassigned if that happened.”
“Maybe. I might be able to go back to Homicide.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Not really. I like my unit.”
“You and Eddie are so close.”
“I know.” He sighed.
“Wait until Mike comes back, and talk to him.”
“I guess I’ll do that. The past two days have been really hard without him.”
“But you’re doing good work on the case.”
“I guess so. It’s slow going, but it is the kind of work I’m good at. We’ve got hundreds of potential witnesses. I hope we can solve this thing.”
“You’ll get there. Remember? God is in charge.”
He kissed her.
“How many seconds?” she asked.
“Who cares? We know we’re serious.”
Chapter 12
Wednesday, June 30
Eddie arrived at Harvey’s apartment the next morning in gym shorts and sneakers, and they set off to run their loop. The air was already warm, with the promise of crippling heat later. By the time they got back to the park, they were both dripping wet.
“Breakfast at my house,” Eddie said, panting.
Harvey walked home and drank a cold Pepsi, then hit the shower. He took a couple of clean shirts and his sport jacket to the Explorer and drove over to Eddie’s. He had cold cereal and juice ready. An air conditioning unit in the kitchen window pumped cool air into the apartment.
“You want coffee?” Eddie asked.
“No, maybe at the office.” He told Eddie about the plans he’d made for the honeymoon. He and Jennifer would spend their wedding night in Portland, then take a plane to New York on the morning of July 18. They’d fly out of Kennedy at noon for London.
“Where are you staying Saturday night?”
“The Oakwood.”
“Good choice. I’ll go over in the morning and drive you to the airport.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Nah. We can wash all the soap and stuff off your vehicle.”
“Eddie, I really don’t want the guys to decorate my Explorer.”
“Well, they will. You can’t stop them. It’s a tradition for the groom’s friends. And Leeanne will probably be out there helping.”
“I’m sure Margaret Turner will be.”
“Beth, too.”
“And Abby,” Harvey said.
“So you need a decoy.”
“What, a fake car?”
“Not a fake car, a different car.” Eddie looked at him with some surprise. “You’re supposed to know all this stuff. You’ve gotten married before.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“Didn’t anyone decorate your car the first time?”
“Yes, and it was awful. Streamers and shaving cream and tin cans, and rocks in the hubcaps. That’s why I don’t want you to do it this time.”
“Let them think you’re taking Jennifer’s car, and they can decorate it all they want, then you take off in yours. Hide it somewhere until you’re ready. Or better yet, let them decorate Jennifer’s car, then throw your stuff in the back of my truck and I’ll take you to the Oakwood in style.”
Harvey laughed. “I’ll talk to Jennifer about it. I’m not sure she’ll want to begin her honeymoon in a pickup truck.” At least Eddie was on his side.
*****
The night dispatchers had taken messages from people who saw Harvey’s press conference on the evening news, and his unit had two dozen calls to return. Nate and Tony arrived, and Harvey assigned calls to them and the four men of the unit. Most of the contacts weren’t helpful, but Arnie found a couple who had seen a man walking toward the bridge around ten-fifty on the night in question, and from their description, it could have been Martin Blake.
Harvey got a call from a woman who had been at Fort Point with her husband and children the day of the reunion.
“We didn’t stay long. It was too crowded.” They had looked at the lighthouse and the fort, but couldn’t find a free picnic table, so they left the park. “I’m kicking myself for not recognizing Martin Blake or Congressman Murphy,” she wailed. “To think, we were there at the same time Martin Blake was there!”
Harvey took her phone number and jotted a few notes.
Tony was interviewing a young man with long hair and a beard, and the other officers were on the phone. Harvey checked the crime updates and brought in e-mail.
“Excuse me, sir,” said Tony. Harvey looked up. “This fellow may have seen something.”
Harvey went over and introduced himself to the young man. He held out his hand. “I’m Charles Fotter. You’re in charge of this case?”
“Yes. What can you tell me?”
“I went over the bridge that night about eleven. I’d been to the airport and was coming back. My girlfriend came in on a plane from Pittsburgh, and I picked her up.”
“Did you see anyone on the bridge?”
“Yes. Two men. One of them was smoking.”
Harvey’s radar picked up. “Where were they?”
“About in the middle of the bridge, on the left-hand side. On the sidewalk, I mean.”
“Okay. Can you describe them?”
“It was pretty dark. I know the one with his back to me was taller. I just glanced over when we came alongside them. The shorter man had a cigarette. He was wearing a dark jacket or sweater. I couldn’t see his face.”
“What could you see?”
“He was shorter than the other man.”
“And?”
“Hmm. The taller man had white shoes.”
That fit with Blake’s white sneakers. “Could your girlfriend talk to us?” Harvey asked.
“She’s gone back to Pennsylvania. If we’d known it was important, I’d have brought her in last week. But I called her last night after I saw the news, and she remembers.”
“Can you give us her name and phone number?”
Harvey left it to Tony to try to reach Fotter’s girlfriend and went back to calling all the Beaulieus in phone book. Finally he hit pay dirt.
“Matthew is my nephew, but he hasn’t lived in Portland for a good many years,” the elderly woman said.
“He’s been in the Navy, hasn’t he?” Harvey asked.
“Oh, yes, all over the world.”
“Do you have a current address or telephone number for him?”
“No, he retired recently, and I think he moved. But his sister could tell you.”
“His sister? Do you have her phone number?” Finally. She gave him a number in Camden, and he dialed. No answer. Harvey sighed and went for coffee.
At noon he sent Tony to the café for sandwiches and cold drinks. It was too hot to eat on the sidewalk, where the heat bounced up at you off the bricks. He cleared off Mike’s desk, and the men crowded around it to eat, talking over the bits and pieces they’d gained during the morning.
After they’d gone over everything and eaten the sandwiches, he told the others he wanted a fifteen-minute break. Pete took a phone call, and the others drifted away. Harvey went downstairs. Jennifer and the other women from Records were just returning from lunch, and he grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the group. The others were good-natured abou
t it. They were getting used to him haunting the hallway in front of the records room.
He stole an extra minute and walked her slowly down the stairs.
“I’m taking you and Beth out to eat tonight,” he said. “Someplace cool.”
“All right, I’ll call her.” Jennifer straightened his holster strap. He’d left his jacket upstairs. “Are you going to wear this thing to the wedding?”
“Hadn’t thought about it.”
“I have. You and Eddie and Mike will probably be standing up there in the church with your guns and badges under your tuxedo jackets.”
He smiled at that.
“I guess I’ll be the safest bride in Portland,” she said. Harvey kissed her, and she didn’t fuss about the cameras.
*****
“More calls about the bridge and the park,” Eddie told him when he got back upstairs.
They stayed on the phones most of the afternoon and found several tourists who had been at Fort Point in the morning. Most had left when the reunion moved in. They turned up three people who had gone down to the beach after 11 a.m. but hadn’t seen anything unusual.
Near the end of the day, Eddie had a call from a man who had seen a solitary pedestrian on the bridge about 11 p.m. He couldn’t pin the time down any closer. The man was leaning on the railing, looking down into the Fore. He hadn’t seen his face, and couldn’t describe his clothing. Dark clothes. A cigarette? He didn’t remember.
At four-thirty, Harvey called the chief and gave him an abbreviated report, updated his written reports, and went to the locker room to shave.
“Going out tonight?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah, but I’ll take you home first.”
“Okay. Where are you and Jennifer going?”
“Prayer meeting.”
Eddie was silent.
“Do you want to come?” Harvey asked.
“No, I was just wondering.”
“What?”
“Are you still praying for me?”
“Every day, Ed.”
“Just me, or do you pray for other people?”
“We pray for lots of people. You, Jeff, the rest of Jennifer’s family, my sisters, Beth—”
“How come you pray for Beth? She believes what you do.”
Fort Point (Maine Justice Book 2) Page 18