“Yes. It’s very impressive.”
Bernadette blushed. “I couldn’t have done it without your help, Dad.”
“There isn’t anything under the name Barber,” Howard said. “What was the other name?”
“Davidson.”
He moved along the cabinets.
“How many years did you do the farm photography?” Elizabeth asked.
Howard pulled out another drawer and began going through it. “It only lasted three summers. It didn’t take long for other photographers to start competing.”
“Was it your idea?”
“I’d like to say yes, but I’d heard about it being done in the United States in the early sixties and thought it might work here.” He pulled up a folder. “Aha. What were the first names?”
“Warren and Martha.”
“This is it.” He carried the file to the desk and opened it.
Elizabeth went and stood beside him and Bernadette. On top was an invoice.
“Warren and Martha Davidson,” he read. “It gives the land description but no reason why they didn’t want the picture.”
He set the invoice aside and under it was a faded black and white photograph of a farmyard taken from the air and a set of negatives. He picked the photo up and studied it.
“Can you remember?” Elizabeth looked over his shoulder. The farm was a well-kept version of Peggy’s former place: house, barn, granaries and a picket fence across the front. To one side was a garden spot. A round flowerbed had been planted in between the house and the road, and the yard was surrounded by the lilac hedge. A half-ton truck and a car were parked beside the house.
He started to shake his head and then stopped. “The car.”
“The car?” Bernadette and Elizabeth asked in unison.
Howard pointed to the car parked beside the truck. “Yes, that car. Mr. Davidson said he didn’t want the picture because of that car being in it.”
“Why wouldn’t he want his car in the picture?” Bernadette asked.
“That’s what I wondered. I told him I could alter the photograph so the car wasn’t in it but he still said no.”
“So why did he chase you off his property?” It was Elizabeth’s turn.
“Well, the picture was no good to me so I offered it to him at a reduced price. I wanted to at least get back some of my money. Up until then he’d been barely polite but he started muttering about pushy salesmen. He grabbed a pitchfork and threatened me with it. I rushed to my vehicle and got out of there.”
Elizabeth studied the photograph. She knew nothing about cars and even less about old cars but she couldn’t see anything that would indicate why Warren would have been against it being in the picture.
“You must have flown quite low to get these pictures.” She tried to make out the license plate number, but couldn’t.
“Yes, the pilot had to be careful not to hit the telephone and power lines.”
“And the only reason he gave you was the car.” She repeated.
“Right. He did come to see me a few days later wanting to buy the photograph and negatives.”
“The negatives, too?”
“Yes. I told him I didn’t work that way and he left in a huff. About a week later someone tried to break into my office.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at this. “That’s a little suspicious. Did they take anything?”
“No. I had a good deadbolt system.”
“Could I borrow this for a few days?” Elizabeth held up the photograph.
“I don’t think Dad should lend it out,” Bernadette said. “But we can take it down to a copier place and get you a copy.”
“That would be great.”
They climbed the stairs.
“Just out of curiosity,” Elizabeth said. “Why did you keep all these files?”
“They span my working career,” Howard said. “It’s surprising the number of people who come wanting a copy of a photograph of them when they were young or of their parents’ or grandparents’ farm. Just last month I had a lady come in who had spent most of her summer holidays when she was a child on her grandparents’ place and she wanted a picture of it as a reminder. Plus, I’m working on my memoirs and these help my memory quite a bit. I’ll have to remember to put in the Davidson episode.”
“Thank you for your time and the copy,” Elizabeth said to Howard, as she and Bernadette left the yard.
“So, do you think this photograph has anything to do with the murder?” Bernadette asked when they reached their vehicles.
“I have no idea,” Elizabeth admitted. “It just seems strange that Davidson would be mad about having a car in the picture.”
“Unless it wasn’t his car. Most people back then could only afford one vehicle.”
“That’s true. But would he have been so mad if it belonged to a neighbour? Why not accept your dad’s offer and have it taken out?
“Maybe it was his way of saying he just didn’t want a picture.”
Elizabeth had two copies made and headed over to the Davidsons. There must be a reasonable explanation.
Martha was surprised to see her for the second time that day. She was polite enough to invite her into their living room where the television was showing a sitcom. Warren was sitting on the couch. He stood when she entered. Still the gentlemanly instincts, which went against everything Elvina had said.
“What do you want now?” His voice wasn’t all that friendly.
Was his true temperament coming through? Elizabeth took the copy of the photograph out of the folder she’d been given and handed it to him. Martha went to look at it and abruptly sat down.
“Is that a picture of your farm?” she asked bluntly.
“Where did you get this?” Warren demanded. His hand shook as he held it.
“From the photographer who took it. He said you didn’t want a picture for your wall because of the car in it.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Warren’s voice quivered as he waved his arm. “That was a long time ago. His memory is off.”
Elizabeth kept her voice low and composed, hoping to calm Warren. “He remembers that you chased him with a pitchfork and that later you wanted to buy the picture and the negatives.”
“I’d like you to leave.” He glared at her.
“Why didn’t you want that car in the picture?” This was not going well, but what could she expected? She only had one more question to ask. “Wasn’t it yours?”
“Get out!” Warren suddenly raised his hand, his face red with anger. “Get out!”
At that moment she could picture him chasing someone with a pitchfork, beating Martha, terrorizing his mother-in-law. At that moment Elizabeth felt fearful herself, and she quickly let herself out and hurried down the steps.
* * * *
She was part way to Fort Macleod before she could settle down and reason it out. Warren had gotten angry and had raised his hand to her. But, in truth, she’d provoked him with her questions. She would certainly get mad too if someone kept interrogating her after she’d asked them to leave her place. Especially someone who was just being a snoop, who had no authority to be making any queries.
So what if he didn’t want a photograph of the farm? It wasn’t as if he’d built it up and was proud of it. He’d been given it. And just because he’d reacted angrily, that didn’t make him a murderer. According to what she’d read in the papers, there wasn’t a record of anyone going missing while he and Martha lived there. There really was no concrete reason to suspect him, she concluded.
It seemed the more people she talked to and the more inquiries she made, the more obscure everything became. And, she suddenly remembered, she hadn’t even had a chance to ask Martha about Brian.
At Fort Macleod, Elizabeth stopped in at the RCMP office and informed Constable Branson that she would be gone for the next two days.
“Where can we reach you if we have to?” he asked.
“I’ll be finishing up my re
search from Medicine Hat to Lethbridge and will be on the road. Here is my cell phone number.” She wrote it down on a piece of paper and handed it to him.
“Will you be staying at the Prairie Bed and Breakfast when you return?”
“Yes, but only for a day or so. I have to head back to Edmonton soon.”
“Just inform us when you do leave.”
There was a lot of activity at the acreage. Two cars were parked on the road and a house moving truck was in the yard. The person who had taken Ace Developments up on their free offer to remove the house/garage was in the process of doing so.
When Elizabeth walked into the B&B Peggy immediately pushed open the kitchen door. Shirley and Al were behind her. It was almost as if they’d been waiting for her. None of them looked very happy. What had happened while she was gone?
“What’s wrong?”
“We got a phone call from Warren Davidson asking who you were,” Peggy said. “He insisted that we tell you to stay away from him and Martha.”
“Why would he do that?” Shirley asked, her head cocked to one side.
“I guess I did push him a little today about a photograph of his farm.”
They looked mystified.
Elizabeth held up a can of Pepsi. “Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll explain it to you.”
They went to the kitchen where Shirley made some coffee. Elizabeth told them what she’d learned through talking to Elvina Thomas and Howard Gunther, and she described Warren’s reaction when she confronted him about the aerial photograph.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Peggy said.
“I know. But there is that secret that Elvina knows and will only tell Martha.” Elizabeth hadn’t mentioned anything about Brian’s quest or her theory.
“Do you think it’s about who the skeleton is?” Shirley asked.
“I don’t know. Martha sure seemed upset when she heard about it.”
“Have you told any of this to the police?” Al asked.
“No. I don’t have any real evidence.”
Since there didn’t seem to be any more to say, Elizabeth mentioned that she would be heading out the next morning and wouldn’t be back until sometime the day after.
“Do you mind if I leave my things? I’ll pay for the extra night if you want. I just can’t see packing up and then unpacking again.”
“Don’t you worry about that. We aren’t fully booked, and you won’t be eating breakfast so it doesn’t make any difference to us.”
“Thank you Shirley, that’s very kind of you.”
Elizabeth climbed the stairs to her room. She hesitated at Brian Sinclair’s door. It was early still. He shouldn’t be in bed yet. She would just tell him about the other Harriets and leave him alone. She knocked.
It was a few moments before he opened it. “Yes?” he asked a little groggily. He had the book in his hand and she could see the bed was rumpled.
“Oh, I’m sorry to bother you Brian, but I thought you’d like to know—I was in Lethbridge today and I talked to a woman who knew three Harriets many years ago. Harriet Barber was one of them.” She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about her feeling that Elvina may have known his grandmother. If she was wrong, she would only have gotten his hopes up for nothing. She would leave that up to Elvina.
He perked up and told her to come in. She sat in an overstuffed chair while he went to sit on the bed.
“The woman I talked to is Elvina Thomas. She and Harriet Barber were good friends. They had neighbouring farms and they spent a lot of time together.”
“Did she say anything about Harriet Barber’s past?”
“Not outright, but she did say they exchanged secrets. She has one to tell Martha Davidson if she wants to hear it.”
“About my father?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me.”
“What about the other two Harriets?”
She wasn’t sure how relevant this was to him but she tried to remember what Elvina had said. “One came from Montana and after her husband died in an accident she returned there. The other one died of influenza in the late 1950s. From what Elvina said about her age, she could also have been your grandmother.”
“Who is this Elvina Thomas? Where in Lethbridge does she live? Could I talk to her?” He fired out the questions quickly as if wanting to learn everything right now.
Elizabeth answered each question in order. “She’s a woman I contacted because of my article. I have her address and phone number. I did mention that I knew someone who was looking for a woman named Harriet Douglas and she said you could call her.”
“Thank you.” He smiled slightly. “Isn’t it strange? No luck for days finding anything out, and now suddenly I have two possibilities for my grandmother.”
“I touched on the subject with Shirley, Al, and Peggy that Elvina has been keeping some secrets,” Elizabeth said, gently.
Brian looked at his hands. “What did Shirley say to that?”
“She doesn’t know what it meant.”
“So, if what you think is true, it will have as big an impact on her as it has had on me.”
“Yes.”
Brian looked up at the ceiling. “You know, I really loved Shirley and I wanted to marry her when she got pregnant. But Harry wouldn’t let us. He was appalled that his daughter was sleeping with a man at her age. He called her a whore and threatened to charge me with rape if I didn’t leave her alone. He sent her to a relative’s place and wouldn’t tell me where. He even punched me out. After a week of him coming to my apartment and threatening me, I moved away. When the nine months were up, I phoned to find out if we had had a boy or girl, but Harry answered. He told me to leave them alone. I tried again later but there was no answer. When I tried a couple of day later the number had been changed to an unlisted one. I never tried again.”
“That must have been a tough thing to do.”
“It was.”
Elizabeth went to her room. She was exhausted, but there was no way she would be able to sleep. There was too much running through her mind. She didn’t want to think about the definite possibility that Sherry had cancer so she occupied herself keying her findings into her laptop. It was after three o’clock before she finally fell into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter 22
Elizabeth rose early and packed some clothes for the next day. She carried her belongings to the Tracker. The water in her cooler would be old so she poured it out and added some fresh water from the outdoor tap. She made sure she had enough dog food for Chevy, and that the can opener was in the box of cans. She didn’t want breakfast, but she poked her head in the kitchen and said goodbye.
Then, before getting in her vehicle, she called Elvina on her cell phone. She’d left it as late as possible because she didn’t know what time she got up.
Elvina answered on the first ring. Elizabeth explained that she’d talked with Brian and that he would be calling. She was tempted to ask if she remembered who the man in the sketch was, but she refrained. She was sure Elvina would tell her if she did.
“So did you find out why Warren Davidson chased the photographer off his farm with the pitchfork?” Elvina asked.
“Yes, apparently there was a car parked in the yard that he didn’t want in the photograph.”
“And that was all?”
“That was the reason he gave Mr. Gunther. Mr. Gunther even offered to take it out of the picture but Warren still refused.”
“Well, that doesn’t make sense.”
Elizabeth had to agree with her.
Once past Lethbridge it was almost two hours of driving to Medicine Hat. She ignored the places along the way. She would record them as she came to them from the other direction.
* * * *
Brian hesitated at Elvina’s door. This was the first concrete lead he had to his father and grandmother. What he might learn scared him.
“Go on, Dad,” Cindy prompted.
“Hello, Elvina, I’m Brian Sinclair and this is my daughter, Cindy.”
“Pleased to meet you. Sit down.”
They sat at the table. Brian swung his chair around to face Elvina.
“Now tell me what this is all about,” Elvina said, putting her puzzle aside.
Brian started his story right from the beginning when he’d learned that Betty and Roger were not his real parents. He told her about his time in Fort Macleod and the baby he and Shirley had expected, and ended with the letter from Betty Altman and how he finally made the decision to come back and find his father and grandmother.
“Elizabeth Oliver said you knew three women with the name Harriet,” he finished.
“Yes, I did. But before I say anything I want to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay.” Brian leaned slightly forward, expectantly.
“Where did your grandmother come from?” Elvina began.
“A small town named Clifford in Ontario.”
“Do you know how old she was when she left?”
“I heard she was sixteen when she got pregnant, so she must have been about seventeen.”
“What did she do with the baby?”
“Left him with his father.” He found he was holding his breath.
“And your grandmother’s maiden name?”
“Douglas. She was Harriet Douglas.”
Elvina nodded. “That was Harriet Barber’s maiden name.”
Brian let out his breath. So what Elizabeth had said was true. Martha Davidson was his aunt and Harry Wilson was possibly his father. Finding out about his family should have been a satisfying moment for him, he thought painfully, but this… Cindy reached out and touched his hand. “It doesn’t necessarily mean that Harry was your father, Dad,” she said softly. “And even if he is, it’s not your fault about you and Shirley. How could you have known?”
“I phoned Martha Davidson,” he said to Elvina. “I explained that I thought her mother was my grandmother. She denied it. I asked if I could come and discuss it with her. She said no and quickly hung up.”
The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set Page 25