Razing the Dead

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Razing the Dead Page 21

by Sheila Connolly


  “Maybe. Hey, don’t worry, I’ll have a draft of that Wakeman report for you by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, so you can review it. But you asked me to look more closely at the genealogy of the family, right? Edward, the one who owned the land during the Revolution, and the rest of his family?”

  “I did. What’ve you learned?” She must have thought it was significant, because she was almost bubbling with excitement.

  “Well, as I’m sure you know, records are a little patchy back then. We’ve got the 1790 census, after the dust from the war had settled, and there’s a 1774 list of taxable inhabitants in Goshen, and Edward’s on it. If you’re interested, he had two horses, three cattle, and three sheep at the time. Married to Hannah, and they had seven kids, four daughters and three sons, Charles, William, and Thomas. Thomas was the youngest boy. Edward left a will, and Thomas inherited the property when Edward died. So that made me wonder—what must’ve happened to Charles and William?”

  CHAPTER 25

  It took me a moment to grasp what Lissa was suggesting, and then another moment to see the connection she had made. “You’re saying that you think that either or both of the two bodies found on the property were Edward’s sons? That’s a pretty huge leap of logic. Tell me why.”

  “Okay.” Lissa picked up the thread dimpled, her enthusiasm undimmed. “It’s kind of hard to prove a negative, but hear me out. When I started digging into the sources from after the war, I couldn’t find any mention of Charles or William Garrett anywhere, not near Goshen or even in the commonwealth. Not in Edward’s will, as I’ve just said, and no marriage or death records anywhere. They didn’t leave wills, at least not in Pennsylvania, although I can’t say I’ve looked beyond the state. No mention of widows or offspring for either of the sons. What is interesting is that William shows up in the Goshen militia company—there are some Sons of the American Revolution applications that refer to him.”

  “But wasn’t he a Quaker? I thought they were pacifists.”

  “Yes and no. Quakers are basically Christians but historically they’ve been very tolerant of individual beliefs. George Fox, who founded the Religious Society of Friends in England back in the mid 1600s, said that Quakers should refuse to bear arms or use deadly force against other humans or participate in any wars, but there have been Quakers who’ve fought. They were and are willing to fight for peace and freedom, if that makes sense to you, but mostly they’re a very quiet group that avoids violence. The Goshen Meeting was founded in 1702 or 1703—”

  “And is close to the Garrett farm. I know. You’ve looked at their records?”

  “Not yet. They’re in the Friends Historical Library at Swarthmore College and in the Haverford College Quaker Collection. They’re available for research, but I haven’t had the time to get there, and only the catalog is online, not the documents themselves.”

  I sat back in my chair and thought. “So how do you get from there to two dead men buried secretly on the Garrett farm, one with a British uniform?”

  “I’m getting there. You might guess that being pacifists put a lot of Quakers in difficult positions during the Revolution, because they weren’t supposed to officially swear loyalty to either side, much less fight. Some remained Loyalists, and others sided with the patriots—and they could be disowned by their meeting for either. In Pennsylvania almost a thousand Quakers were disowned for bearing arms. Anyway, the result was that nobody trusted the Quakers around here.”

  I was beginning to see her logic. “And you’re guessing that the Garrett family, in the confusion after the battle, found the bodies and buried them quickly, to avoid any problems?”

  “It’s possible, isn’t it?” Lissa nodded eagerly. “The local Quakers had very mixed feelings about which side to choose and whether or not to fight, and besides, tempers run high in any war. Maybe Edward just wanted to avoid any difficulties.”

  I was intrigued, but she was really going out on a limb with her theory. I played devil’s advocate. “If that was the case, why would anyone want to silence George Bowen? If anything, it would be kind of an intriguing archeological find, wouldn’t it?”

  Lissa’s face clouded. “That’s where I hit a wall. And that’s why the missing heirs are important. What if one of them killed the British soldier? Or was killed by him? And maybe his brother helped cover that up, and then left, so no one would ask him about it?”

  “It’s possible, maybe. But why wouldn’t Edward have resurrected his son, so to speak, when the war was over, and had him buried properly at the meeting?”

  “That’s why I’d really like to take a look at the original records at Swarthmore. Maybe the brothers are mentioned there, but I haven’t had time to check, and we’re running out of time if we’re going to meet Wakeman’s deadline.”

  Lissa fell silent while I digested what she’d told me. Finally, I said, “I guess the question is, if it’s true—and that’s still very much an if—then how did the family manage to keep the secret for all this time?”

  Lissa shrugged. “You told me that Ezra Garrett made a point of giving the family documents to the historical society before he died. I wonder: do you think he knew?” Lissa said.

  Something I couldn’t answer. “Well, either he wanted to make sure the documents stayed together and were well cared for, or he knew there was something in there that probably would or should come out sometime. Maybe he didn’t trust his own family to preserve them. I think maybe we need to know a bit more about family relations there, and I’ll bet Janet can fill in some of the blanks. I wish we had more time to figure this out. How much can we take to Wakeman?”

  “You’re asking me?” Lissa laughed. “From what I understand, he wants a nice report to help sell his homes and condos. We don’t have any proof about these conjectures, no matter how interesting a story it might make for him. I suppose we could say something like ‘The Garrett family had a long and troubled history on their homestead . . .’ And the bodies would be quietly reburied somewhere and never identified.”

  I shot upright in my chair. “But there is a way we can prove it!” While she looked at me, bewildered, I picked up my office phone and hit James’s number.

  “Morrison,” he said automatically, then, “Nell? Why are you calling on this line?”

  “Because this is official business. I’ll be quick. Do you remember that we talked about DNA profiles for the old bodies from the Garrett property? How long would it take to get them done? Remember, this is for Wakeman. Money is no object.” I hoped that was true. If we got the story right, he might have something really interesting to include in his promotional material. It seemed worth trying.

  “If our lab does it, you might see results in a couple of weeks. But I know the guys at the Jersey lab that takes our overflow. They can probably have something for you tomorrow—for a price. Why the hurry?”

  I smiled to myself. “I’m working on a theory, but I don’t want to prejudice you. I’ll tell you when we get the results.”

  “All right. I’ll call if there’s any problem with getting the lab work done.”

  We hung up at the same time. I looked up to see Lissa grinning at me. “DNA tests, huh? Like, overnight? So we’ll know if one of the bodies was related to the Garretts?”

  “Only if we get a sample from a living Garrett. So we have to figure out how to get a sample from one of the surviving ones.”

  “Can you ask?”

  “They might want to know why we’re asking.”

  “Why can’t we just tell them the truth? If you say it’s to help with the murder investigation, won’t they be willing?”

  “Maybe. I don’t really know any of them. And, as far as I know, neither William nor Eddie has shown much interest in this investigation. Of course, they don’t own the land anymore. I think we need to talk to Janet again. Do you have time today, or should I go alone?”

  “If I c
an take my laptop along, I’d love to go. I can work on the report in the car. Maybe I can even get some pictures while we’re out that way.”

  “Deal. I’ll call Janet and see if she’s free this afternoon.”

  “Great. I’ll check back with you later.”

  Lissa left, and I spent a few minutes gathering my thoughts. Two dead men in the woods; two corpses in a copse. The buttons pointed to the Revolutionary War; a major battle in that war had taken place only a short distance away from the farm. The land had been held continuously by the same family since before that battle, up until Ezra Garrett had sold it to Mitch Wakeman. Had Ezra known about the bodies? If so, he must have realized that Wakeman would most likely discover them in the course of construction. If there had been no dark secret, any member of the Garrett family could have reported the bodies at any time over the past two centuries; ergo, there had to be a dark secret. What was it, and who had known?

  Or maybe the Garrett family had simply forgotten about the bodies; the story had not been passed down. The fact that the copse had never been disturbed was merely a coincidence. And George had been killed by a crazed stranger in the dark.

  Which was more likely? Too many coincidences. My vote was for the first option.

  I picked up the phone to call Janet Butler and luckily found her in her office. “Hey, Janet,” I said. “It’s Nell. Look, Lissa and I have some more questions about the whole Garrett history, and you know we’ve got a Friday deadline. Would you mind terribly if we came out and talked to you this afternoon?”

  “Uh, sure, I guess. Does two o’clock work for you?”

  “Fine. And thank you. I promise we’ll stop bothering you soon.”

  Janet laughed. “Hey, this is more excitement than we usually get here. I’ll see you at two.”

  * * *

  Lissa and I left the city at one, and as I drove she read out loud pieces of the text she had assembled for the Wakeman report. I was pleased to find that she wrote well, striking a nice balance between accurate historical fact and readable, entertaining style. Since traffic was light at midday, we arrived slightly early.

  Janet was waiting for us in the lobby. “Welcome back, you two. Come on up to the office and we can talk.” She led the way to her office, and I made sure the door was shut. As I did that, she gave me a curious look. “What do you need?”

  I took a deep breath and started in. “Lissa has been doing some basic genealogy research on Edward Garrett and his family, and she turned up something odd. Edward had three sons, and the youngest one inherited the farm. The other two vanished from any records, just about the time of the Battle of Paoli.”

  Janet was quick to arrive at the same conclusion we had. “And you think they’re connected to the two bodies that George found in the woods?”

  “That’s our working theory at the moment, but we need some help to flesh it out, if you’ll pardon a bad pun. We know that Edward Garrett knew about the bodies, from his daybook, but he didn’t identify them there, or anywhere else, as far as we know.”

  “But I still need to look at the Quaker records,” Lissa said, then went quiet again.

  I went on, “We been kicking around a theory that one of them was Edward’s son. Would Edward have had reason to hide the death?”

  “What an interesting idea. I can’t say for sure. If I’m not mistaken, the records for the Goshen Meeting can be found in the Friends Library at Swarthmore College.”

  “Lissa will follow through on that, of course,” I added. “She did find a record that says that one of the sons was listed as a member of the Goshen militia, which you know would have been relatively unusual. Add to that the buttons that George found, and it suggests that one of Edward’s sons may have killed a British soldier on the family property, and then they died together and were buried right there, without ceremony or recognition. And then nobody said anything about them until Wakeman showed up.”

  “This is amazing!” Janet said. “Sounds like a soap opera.”

  “It does, but it’s a strong possibility that George Bowen died because he found the bodies. At least, that’s the only explanation that makes sense. Tell me, what was the timing of Ezra Garrett’s gift of the family papers in relation to the start of the Wakeman project?”

  “As I told you, about the same time. Of course, the announcement of the Wakeman project didn’t go public right away, but there were hints coming from the township guys. Obviously Ezra and Wakeman had been talking about it for a while before that. I just figured Ezra handed over the papers because he was settling his affairs. He must have known he didn’t have much time left. He was already ninety.”

  “What if he was worried that someone else would find the papers? Maybe even destroy them?”

  Janet looked bewildered. “His family must have known about them, and they’d probably had access to them all along.”

  “What if the family didn’t know?” I pressed. “Or what if it didn’t matter until it became public that Wakeman was going to develop the site and would probably find those bodies?”

  “I’m still not following,” Janet said. “Why would anyone care now? Whatever happened, happened a long time ago. What’s it got to do with the present?”

  “That’s what we don’t know. As I’m sure you’ve seen, family traditions have a way of hanging on long after the people involved are gone. Like ‘We don’t talk about Aunt Hattie’s first husband,’ because he turned out to be a swindler—things like that. It’s only when there’s an outside eye looking at these things that the family members are kind of jolted out of their rut and take a different view. Say Edward did not want it known that his son was buried there, and swore the son who inherited to secrecy, and that information got passed down from generation to generation. So nobody touched that piece of land. They couldn’t have known that the bodies and other bits and pieces would be so well-preserved.”

  “All this is kind of built on straw, isn’t it? It could have been two strangers fleeing from the battle who happened to cross paths right there and died.”

  “Of course it could. That’s why I’ve asked the FBI to do a DNA analysis of the remains.”

  “Oh-ho!” Janet replied, nodding. “So you’ll know if one of them was a Garrett. But you still need a sample from a living Garrett, don’t you?”

  “That’s where you come in.”

  CHAPTER 26

  “Janet, is there some way to get a sample from the two sons?”

  Janet smiled. “You mean, without asking them?”

  I almost laughed. “That would be too easy. Do you know either of them well enough to ask? Where do they live?”

  “Huh—let me think. I think both of them are still around West Chester, or at least in Pennsylvania. The younger son, Eddie—yes, the name has been passed down—lived on the farm until his father died and Wakeman took over the property. He never married, and he must be sixty now. He’s a member here, but only because his father gave so much that we made him an honorary one. So I guess I know him, but he’s not exactly a regular customer here. I do know him better than his brother, William, but that’s not saying much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen William in here.”

  “I met Eddie at that press conference,” I said, “but he left as fast as he could. I had the impression he wasn’t comfortable with that kind of attention. I’m sure the brothers have been interviewed about George’s death and the bodies and the whole history of the farm.” But who had interviewed them? I wondered. Odds were that the interviewers were local good ole boys who’d known the Garretts all their lives. Had the interviewer asked the right questions? Would that person have known if he was being lied to by one or another or even all of the Garretts? “It might look odd if someone came around now asking for a cheek swab.”

  “You want to break into their houses and steal a toothbrush?” Janet said, with a glint in her eye.

  �
�That only happens on television. Look, if we want to prove our theory, we need to get serious. Janet, do you think you could ask them to come here?”

  “I could come up with an excuse, I guess, at least for Eddie, since he’s a member. Maybe a question about the family papers?”

  “Has Eddie shown any interest in the past?”

  “Not really, but he has to know that we’re looking at the papers now, given everything that’s been happening.”

  “But we don’t have much time,” Lissa said. “Even if Eddie comes in right away and you get DNA from him, it’ll take a couple of days to process that to compare to the other samples. So the whole investigation has slopped over into next week already.”

  “At least it would be progress,” I said. “No other agency has come up with anything. We ought to have preliminary DNA results for the bodies by tomorrow, and if we have to wait for a sample from Eddie to compare to, so be it.”

  Suddenly I really wanted to talk to James. I was out of my depth here. I had no idea what constituted evidence of anything or how to go about getting it even if I knew. I could end up doing more harm to the investigation than good. Heck, Eddie could probably sue someone if we tricked him into giving a sample.

  Lissa’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Nell, how do you want me to spin all this for Wakeman’s report?”

  “I don’t think he’ll want wild speculation. If it turns out to be a good story, we can add it later, but I’d rather have the basic story of the land in his hands than give unsupported guesses about possible murders.”

  “So, what do you want me to do, Nell?” Janet asked.

  “Call Eddie Garrett and ask him if he can come in to talk about the family papers. That’s an innocent and appropriate request. Don’t make it sound urgent—tomorrow would be fine. Then if he shows up, offer him a cup of coffee or tea or whatever then make sure you save whatever he drank out of.”

 

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