“I haven’t seen any other ones around here like this one. Did that builder give up his dream?”
“He gave up his life. After the cottage was completed he went out in the back yard and shot himself.”
“That’s terrible.”
“No one seemed to know the reason why he did that, or anything else about him. Eventually no one cared to find out more. When I heard the story I thought it was an appropriate place to have my therapy sessions, which hopefully will help my patients avoid the fate of Malcolm Hightower.”
“I hear you do good work.”
“I don’t like praise because if I start believing it I might not work as hard. But thank you anyway.” She brushed her long dark hair away from her face. That face was long and brooding as if hearing all those problems for years had caused a heaviness to it. The woman was tall and thin, almost gaunt. If Todd were her mother he would tell Erin to eat more desserts.
“You said over the phone you want to talk about Hiram. He’s out now, but he should be back soon. You may not like him. Most people don’t.”
“So you took over his care after Ma Blessing died?”
“Yes, I had been seeing him as a patient for the previous three years. When someone abandons you as a two-year old, you have issues. Actually, though, Ma had done a good job. Hiram felt warmth and security from her, which is what he needed. He was having trouble finding a place for himself in society, which I was working with him about. However, when Ma died, Hiram went a little crazy, and I had to step in on a more full-time basis. I took him into my home, thinking it would be temporary—a month or two. So far it has been over two years, and now I consider him my child. In fact, a month ago I filed adoption papers to legally become his mother.”
“What will you do if his natural parents are eventually found?”
“That will be a conundrum. If the courts allow it, I would let Hiram decide whom he wants to be with. However, he is already fourteen, so soon he will be on his own anyway. I have let him know I feel this is his home, and he will be welcome here as long as I live.”
“The past sheriff’s brother, Flip, told me that there has been some progress with Hiram identifying where he might have come from. Apparently Ma’s friend, Walt also helped, letting Hiram use his computer for exploring.”
“You are correct. On Mr. Fosdick’s computer, two years ago Hiram typed in the words, Old City Market, which Walt eventually googled to locate it in Charleston, South Carolina.
“I know that Larry, Flip’s brother decided he couldn’t afford to go down to Charleston to investigate further. Larry, Flip, Ma, and Walt have all been murdered. I don’t have to be any kind of super detective to think possibly they all were getting too close to Hiram’s origins, and whoever dropped him off in Calypso didn’t want that. Thus, the murders. So far that is a working theory of mine. I want to go down to Charleston to investigate further, but I have to clear it from my Chief back in Philadelphia.”
“In regard to Charleston, lately Hiram has corroborated his connection to it,” Erin said. “He’s told me that he now remembers horses in their stalls getting ready to pull carriages. There are those businesses close to the Old City Market in Charleston. As a two year old he probably absorbed a great deal, but he was too young to articulate what he knew. Now he is beginning to talk more about his origins. Just last week we were looking at a Southern Living magazine together. I use it sometimes to nudge his memory. There was a photo of a tree-lined road. He told me he knew that place. Before this he had told me he remembered small brick houses where Black people lived who were slaves. Not too many slaves remaining in the USA I hope, so I reasoned possibly he was talking about one of the plantations that they have on display in Charleston. The picture he identified was the road leading to the manor house at the Boone Hall Plantation. We’re beginning to narrow down perhaps where Hiram came from.”
“If I can get the O.K. from my Chief to go down there, I would like to take Hiram with me.”
“I see. That might be a problem.”
“You would not want me to go?”
“Hiram would not want you to go—with him-- and frankly you might not want him with you. Ah, I hear him coming up the walk.”
‘How do you know that? All I heard were stones hitting the front window.”
“He does that when he approaches the house. Sometimes he has broken a window or two.”
“Why does he do that?”
“In my profession it is often counterproductive to ask why. I merely tell him to be careful and not break any more windows. He hasn’t broken one for six months now.”
The door flew open and a compact lad with broad shoulders and long flowing blond hair charged into the room. He looked at Todd. “Who the hell is he?”
“Hiram, I told you about that kind of language.”
“So you’re not going to tell me? It’s a mystery? Maybe it’s someone you want to have sex with?”
“Hiram, this is Mr. Henson. He’s taking over for Sheriff Carbon until a permanent replacement can be found.”
“Wow, the big bad law person. You don’t look very tough. In fact you look like a geek. I wish you’d leave.”
“Hiram, you’re being very rude.”
“I don’t care. I’m going upstairs now.” The kid ran up the stairs as if someone were chasing him.
“I think you see what I mean,” Ms. Brock said.
“It’s a tornado with a bad mouth.”
“An apt description. After Ma’s death, Hiram broke store windows, stole stuff, and created a general nuisance around town. Like you said, he still has that bad mouth, but he seems to have curtailed the illegal activities. He’s never had any real parents to lay down the law on him, but he’s gradually learning he can’t just do anything he wants. This last school year his teachers still called me about disruptive behavior, but the average was no more than once a week. After Ma died they called almost every day.”
“What about him and me going to Charleston together?”
“It’s up to you. I have no objections. You’ve seen him in action, and believe me today is a mild day for him. If you think you can tolerate him without either of you killing each other, please do it. His grades actually are pretty good, and he doesn’t have to go to summer school, so he is free for the next couple months. Possibly for him to gain back a piece of his identity could settle him down a bit. Of course, depending on what he finds, it could make him go crazier. I have to be honest. I wouldn’t mind taking a break from the kid. He is wearing. Call and let me know what you decide.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
That evening Todd phoned his Chief at his home. Trimble had an open policy that his people could contact him at home, but they’d better have a good reason for doing so.
“Henson, you’re still alive. I haven’t heard from you for weeks. I thought the prairie dust in the Midwest had swallowed you up. What’s been happening on the case?”
Todd gave him what started out to be a brief summary, but like Erin Brock had said, things were complicated. It took Todd almost fifteen minutes to explain everything.
When Todd was finished, the Chief paused before answering. “Henson, I can’t disagree with the way you’re handling it. It doesn’t seem that it’s going to be quickly resolved. But that part about you going down to Charleston, I can’t agree with. We just don’t have the budget to be able to finance your trip even for a few days. Also, I know you’ve used up your vacation days. Do you really think the trip is that important?”
“I do, Chief. It might be the key to the entire case.”
“The only thing I can do is give you a two-week leave of absence. For the benefit of the superintendent, I’ll write it up as some kind of medical excuse. Of course I couldn’t pay you for that time period. Would two weeks be enough?”
“I think so, sir.”
“If you decide to go through with it, call me, and I’ll set it up. You’d only have to wait a day for the paperwork to go through.”
Todd’s mom had died when he was five. His dad had worked hard to support Todd and his sister. Garret Henson was not a mean or violent man, but neither was he a touchy-feely person. He was detached from both his kids. Even Carrie had trouble getting close to him. There was also the additional problem of Garret never wanting Todd to become a policeman.
“You will be reviled by half the population for not doing a good enough job, but then if you step up and prevent wrongdoing, you will be accused of police violence,” his dad proclaimed. “It’s a job you can’t win at. Besides, any day you go out to work you could be killed. I’ve always wanted you to come work with me.”
Todd respected his dad’s work ethic, but he did not want to become an air-conditioning salesman the rest of his life. He was dreading this phone call, and he waited another hour to make it. Finally he clicked in his dad’s number.
“Todd how are you doing? What’s happening?”
Todd had not seen his dad for months. His father’s response, as usual, was perfunctory. There were no questions about what Todd had been doing those months. There would definitely be no questions about his job because of his dad’s aversion to it. Never once in these last years had his dad made an effort to phone him. The feeling Todd always got was that his dad was glad his son was out of the house and gone from his life.
“My job’s taken a little turn,” Todd said. “I’m in Indiana right now pursuing a case.”
“All they do is make demands on you, son, and never reward you. You know how I feel.”
“For sure I know how you feel. I’m calling because this case has taken another new twist and I have to travel even further, this time down South.”
“Why are you telling me? Oh, now I get it. You need money.”
Now his dad’s silence made him beg. “Yes, I do need money. I don’t often ask.”
“You should never ask. In my view once you leave home you’re on your own. There’s no such thing as independence if you have to keep borrowing money from your father. How much do you need?”
Todd told him.
“Man, that’s a lot of money. There’s only so many air conditioners I can sell. Your dad’s getting older; you’re not trying to kill me, are you? Where the heck are you going, South America?”
“To Charleston, South Carolina.”
“Todd, that’s a dangerous place. They hate the cops down there. I saw in the news the mayor had a cop arrested for just doing his job.”
“Dad, the cop shot an unarmed Black man in the back when he was running away.”
“Those people are always saying they’re being unjustly treated.”
One of Garret’s constant phrases was about those people. “Dad, there’s a video of the cop doing it. The whole thing is on tape.”
“Those things can be staged, you know.”
It was useless to talk about race with him. Todd had always been puzzled about what caused his dad’s total rejection of African Americans. As far as Todd knew, most of his customers were Black. They were helping his father make a living.
There was a long pause. Todd wasn’t going to beg anymore. If his dad didn’t give him the money, he would find some way to get it. Maybe he could take out a loan.
Finally, with a defeated tone to his voice, his dad said, “All right, I’ll give you the money. But I want you to seriously consider quitting that job. The last few months my business has picked up a bit. I could use a partner. When I retire you could take it over completely. Tell me you will consider that. Let me hear you say it.”
“Yes, Dad, I will consider it.”
There were always strings attached whenever his dad gave him anything. Once, when he bought young Todd a bicycle, the trade-off was that Todd had to paint three rooms in the house. Nothing was ever given freely.
As if this conversation had not been horrible enough, the last thing his dad said was, “Todd, your mother would not be proud of you.” Todd was so glad when his Dad clicked off the phone. Possibly these conversations were good practice if Todd were ever captured by domestic terrorists and tortured. He would be ready to withstand anything. While his mom had been alive, Todd didn’t remember his dad being this bad. Garret had already stated that his Maria was the only person he would ever love, so Todd didn’t see any other woman in the future providing any softening to the hard man.
Anyway, the check would be in the mail. Meanwhile Todd wanted to talk with Hiram about going to Charleston with him. Erin said he could come over tomorrow after dinner to talk with the boy. “I will leave you two alone, and you can propose the trip to him. I haven’t mentioned it at all.”
That next night, Erin came up to Hiram’s room with Todd in tow. The door was locked; even downstairs in the hallway Todd could hear the music. Erin had to knock loudly. “Hiram, honey, Mr. Henson is here. He wants to talk to you.”
The door was flung open. The scowl told it all. “Well, I don’t want to talk to him.” The door was slammed shut, and Todd could hear the lock click.
“This happens a lot, even when I want to talk to him,” Brock said. She reached into her pocket. “I have one of these safety door openers.” The thin metal rod fit into the lock and presto the door was open. The music blasted out into the hallway. “Wait here.” Erin went into the room.
Whatever she said to her ward must have had some effect because a minute later the music was shut off and there was Hiram back at the door. “Downstairs,” he said to Todd. “I don’t want you in my room.”
In a small den-like room off to the side of the kitchen, Hiram slammed himself in a chair. Todd took the mini-couch across from him.
“Is this going to be one of these shrink things where you try to probe my brain like I’ve been captured by a creature from outer space who wants to see what humans are like?”
“No brain probing, Hiram. I want to talk about you going on a trip.”
“This great. You’re going to give me drugs so I can trip? Maybe I won’t come back then to this piss-poor life I have.”
“I’m talking about a little vacation from here with me.”
“Oh, wow that would be even better. Why would you think I would want to spend even one extra minute with you?”
“Because I might hold the key of where you came from. Who your real parents are.”
This changed the hostile expression on his face. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve taken over for Sheriff Carbon, investigating these murders that have been happening lately here in Calypso. The last one was Carbon himself. You know the other two: Ma Blessing and Walt Fosdick.”
Hiram looked down at the rug. His voice lowered. “Ma was great to me; Walt was my friend.” When he looked back up, his eyes were moist. He slapped a tear away from his cheek. “What does this have to do with me, and a trip?”
“You’ve identified that you have some familiarity with Charleston, South Carolina. Possibly you were born there, and your parents might still be living there.”
“You’re the sheriff. Why are you doing this for me?”
“It’s not just for you. It’s possible that Ma and Walt were killed by someone down there in Charleston because they were beginning to find out too much information about why you were abandoned here. Someone down there wanted your guardian and friend permanently silenced.”
“Why don’t you go down there alone? Why do I have to go with you?”
“I don’t know where those people are down there? If you’re with me, you might be able to recognize places and we can narrow it down to find your parents.”
“Wait a minute, are you saying my real parents could have killed Ma and Walt?”
“It’s possible. I’ll know only if I can confront them. Maybe they also killed Sheriff Carbon because he was beginning to
check into things down there. I found his notebook. Do these names mean anything to you? Barber, McPherson, or Everson?”
“No, they’re not familiar to me.”
“Those were the names Sheriff Carbon had in his notebook due to his investigation so far into where you came from. I want to find out who those people are down there. You would be a big help if you could identify them.”
“Listen, man, I was two years old.”
“You’ve been able to identify other things like the Old City Market and the horse stables. Ms. Brock said you also recognized a certain road when you and she were looking at a magazine.”
“Yes, I remembered how the trees leaned over the road. Where was that place?”
“It’s called Boone Hall Plantation.”
“What’s a plantation?”
“It was a lot of land where a rich person would grow food and other materials like cotton for clothes. This was a hundred fifty years ago. To work the land the owner would have Black people do everything. Those people were slaves, forced to work for food and shelter.”
“They talked about slaves in school. I know a little about that history. It made me remember some small brick houses off to the side of that road with the trees. The pictures of slaves that I saw in the school books reminded me of pictures that I think I had seen in my real life, but everything was pretty fuzzy. Like I said I was only two. Are you saying I might have some kind of connection to that plantation?”
“It’s possible. We’ll know for sure only if you go down there with me and you recognize some more areas there.”
“Was I born there?”
“I don’t know. That’s what we’ll have to find out. That will be my job. Your job will be to tell me what seems familiar to you when we get down there.”
“This trip doesn’t sound too bad. I want to find out who my real parents are. I want to spit in their faces for throwing me out of their family. And if they did do those killings like you say, it’ll make me feel real good if you can put them in jail. All right, I’ll go with you, but I’ll tell you right now I don’t want you to be my friend. When I lost Ma and Walt I lost my friends, and I never want to go through that again.”
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