Caretakers (Tyler Cunningham)

by Sheffield, Jamie

  “Tyler. For Christ’s sake, tell us what’s going on. Who are these people, and what have you found out about Dee?” Mike interrupted.

  I looked around the room at curious faces … Samantha and Morris, Anthony and the nurse, Mike and Kitty. After reading hundreds (thousands?) of mysteries with carefully crafted ‘reveals,’ it took nearly all of my not-boundless concern and tact not to begin with ‘I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here tonight’ … but I managed.

  “The four of you deserve to meet, and to hear what I’m going to say,” I said, making brief eye-contact with Mike and Kitty and Samantha and Morris (Anthony and the nurse needed to be here for other reasons … some humanitarian, some remarkably selfish).

  “Samantha and Morris were taken, like Deirdre, and kept against their wills for years.” Kitty and Mike looked aghast at the two pale/scared/sad humans joining them for late-night cookies (Anthony looked clueless or shocked, and the nurse just nodded, as if I was confirming long-held suspicions about humanity in general).

  “I am not certain of the exact number, we may never know, but I believe that starting with Deirdre in 1958, there have been between ten and twenty people taken and held in this manner … in these … oubliettes.”

  Mike began to sputter, “Who … where … how … why? And what, now?” He couldn’t form a thought or sentence, but I knew where he was headed, and bailed him out.

  “The Edelmans, owners of Camp Juniper Bay, and their caretakers, the Reinegers. A confluence of bad luck and bad timing conspired to get them working together, each meeting some need through their actions. Petr Edelman, ‘The Judge,’ may have wanted to regain some power he felt he had lost (or was just batshit crazy and a sadist, I thought, but decided not to say). Robert Reineger, senior, wanted to lash out to avenge the unexpected loss of a family member, Kimberly Stanton. The relationship must have met those, and other, needs, because once they started with Deirdre, they just kept going, through all of the years, through generations of Edelmans and Reinegers … sometimes with one, sometimes two prisoners.” I paused for a second, and then continued. “They built the first oubliette to house Deirdre, and then another a few years later, when they expanded their capacity to allow them to keep two prisoners at a time.”

  Kitty’s nurse moved in closer to her, checked her pulse and her eyes, and then backed off again, nodding slightly in my direction.

  “How do you know this, Tyler?” Kitty asked.

  “From talking with you and others, access to police reports, a few bits of odd snooping here and there, some research at the museum, a lot of help, and a lot of luck,” I said.

  “And Dee?” she asked, knowing the answer, but perhaps needing me to say the words.

  “I don’t know it all yet, but it is reasonable to assume that she died in her captivity sometime in the early to middle 1960’s. I may have a better idea when/if I get a chance to decrypt more of their secret messages.” Mike and Kitty both dropped their heads in a manner so similar, that it might have been cute in other circumstances. In this instance though, it gave me a snapshot moment into human feeling … their faces and bodies seemed to relax/deflate in an odd mix of relief, and grief, and sadness, and welcome knowledge, and perhaps a touch of happiness.

  “They sent coded communications back and forth over the years, and I was lucky enough to figure out the method, so that I was able to decrypt some of them. By reviewing and comparing camp ledgers, I noted that the Juniper Bay garage/workshop was too expensive, and used too many materials for what it was, so I suspected that there might be more to it … this in combination with the cryptograms was enough to send me there tonight, where I was fortunate enough to find Samantha and Morris.”

  “I wish that I’d asked you a decade ago,” Kitty said. Mike looked up from whatever he was thinking about … his sister, Dee or oubliettes or crazy/self-righteous/vengeful monsters looking like humans or a dozen or more faces/people going into that hole alive and coming out dead. Samantha rocked back as though she’d been slapped … ten years ago, she had had a life, and had never been down the narrow stairs under Juniper Bay. Morris bumped the Tupperware, cooed at his toad, drank another glass of milk, and kept shoving cookies into his mouth while he looked around at the huge room.

  “A decade ago, I probably would not have been able to find/see the clues for what they were, decode the letters, or do what had to be done to free Samantha and Morris. I didn’t know the Park or the people well enough back then to find my way through all of this,” I said, clearly not giving enough detail for Mike, who harrumphed to himself at my answer.

  Turning to Kitty, I asked, “Do you remember what I said when I first met you? I talked about ‘informational echolocation’ … I could not, would not have found my way to the truth if I hadn’t gotten useful feedback from a dozen people, most importantly the Reinegers.”

  Everyone looked at me with the same question in their eyes, so I kept going. “If they hadn’t responded to my initial inquiries with such speed and force, I likely wouldn’t have approached my investigations in the manner that I did, and might not have ended up sitting here with all of you tonight. It was a classic bad guy move, and is nearly always a mistake.”

  Still some puzzlement, so I continued, “I read mysteries and crime novels, lots of them. In these books, the bad guys often give themselves up through the very act of trying to keep their secrets secret … it’s a classic blunder, and the Reinegers stepped in it big time. If they had taken the time to talk with the Edelman in charge, they either would have left me alone altogether, or made sure to kill/disappear me the first time they made contact.” I could see Mike shiver slightly, and look at me strangely when I said this last bit.

  Morris took a break from his hushed conversations with the toad for a moment to look up and speak, for the first time in minutes (in a voice that sounded as though it hadn’t had much practice in years), “So what happens now? To them, to us, to you?”

  I considered for four seconds before answering, “Part of that is of no interest to me, part of it I have no idea about, and part of it looms large and sticky and unpleasant. I think the Edelmans and Reinegers involved with the kidnappings and imprisonment … sorry for my lack of tact (Morris and Samantha had both physically reacted to my words) … will themselves be imprisoned, and we should try to forget them, as they wanted the world to forget Dee and Samantha and Morris. I think that you (gesturing to Morris and Samantha), unfairly condemned and punished for years, have a do-over … another life to live. I’m sure that lots of people will talk to/with/about/for you in the days and weeks to come, but on the far side of that time I have a sensitive and compassionate friend (Meg, who really is both things, of which I am neither) who has been touched by this thing in a couple of ways, and I’m sure would be happy to help in any way that she can, if you would like (they both nodded slightly, and smiled at me, for reasons that I didn’t/don’t understand).”

  “Tell them the fun part now, Tyler. The one even that chick who sung about 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife would see as ironic,” Barry chimed in from back behind me, over my shoulder; I was just barely able to avoid turning around to tell him to shut up (which likely wouldn’t have helped anything) … it had been a long evening.

  I paused to breathe and think a bit before I answered the last part of Morris’s question. “I think that I will certainly be arrested either tonight or tomorrow, and possibly go to jail for bits and pieces of what happened at Juniper Bay tonight … I would do it again in a second, certain that I was/am/will be doing the right thing for the right reasons.”

  “How can that be, Tyler? You saved two lives tonight, and prevented who knows how many more crimes in the years to come.” Kitty seemed indignant, wronged, and affronted by the idea.

  “I certainly violated broad swathes of Article 135 of New York’s Penal Code, Kidnapping, Coercion, and Related Offenses, the very same laws that will be applied to the Edelmans and the Reinegers … I broke them �
�� badly … this evening (I could feel/hear Barry start to say something over by the ginormous walk-in fireplace, and made what I hoped was a discreet hand-motion in his direction to stop him derailing me). The Reinegers knew that I had figured out what was going on, and my belief is that they were going to kill the current prisoners in their oubliette (I nodded towards Morris and Samantha), and literally bury the whole thing, under dirt or concrete perhaps ...sorry, again, for my lack of tact, you two,” I added, as they both looked a bit startled by my guess at what might have happened tonight if I had been driving my Element or gotten a flat tire in Mike’s Porsche or ended up behind a logging truck at some point in my drive.

  “I was concerned that there wouldn’t be enough evidence for the police to do anything quick enough to prevent that from happening, so I believe that I acted in the only way possible … but there is no doubt that I broke the law, and no question that someone is going to notice that fact (I smiled slightly at this point, thinking about Robert kneeling, glued to the fridge like a little teapot, which drew some slightly concerned/worried/nervous stares from the crowd).”

  “Tyler, I’m going to interrupt you for a few minutes. Anthony, go to my desk and find my address book; look for Bruce Webster in the Ws (seemingly obvious, but some people have odd organizational schemas, and who am I to judge). Call the circled number at the bottom, and when he answers bring the phone to me, here,” Kitty said, and Anthony left.

  “Bruce was a beau of mine before I met Freddie, and although he’s long retired, his name is still first on the masthead of one of the most successful law firms in New York City,” she said by way of explanation to everyone else in the room (except Mike, who had begun nodding as soon as she had spoken). Anthony returned to the room a few seconds more than a minute later, and handed his cell-phone to Kitty, who looked at the thing with a combination of loathing and a grudging acceptance of its convenience.

  “Bruce? I’m sorry to bother you when I’m certain you’re out on the island with your family, but I have a bit of a crisis, and you’ll have to flex some founding-partner’s muscle to help me with it.” She finished and listened for seven seconds before continuing.

  “Yes, dear, it’s about Dee. A darling young man has found out what happened, and in the process gotten in something of a jam. I need you to get your best people for criminal defense on my plane first thing in the morning—Anthony will set it up with your people—and we’ll fly them into that cute airport in Saranac Lake (it’s actually in Lake Clear, but it seemed ungrateful/imprudent/unwise to correct her at this time).” Another listening gap, this time longer, about 23 seconds.

  “I understand that it’s a Friday in mid-July, but I need your best people, Bruce, the second team will simply not do. Anthony can get the pilot to pick your people up overnight, wherever they are … (slight interruption) … Bar Harbor, yes, Iceland, no. I want them all here for eight o’clock tomorrow morning, and expense is literally of no importance to me, to the Crocker Family, Bruce. This young man found my Dee (not exactly true, but …), this was my dying wish, and he will not go to jail for his actions on my behalf while I, or you, for that matter, can do anything about it, is that understood?” This time the pause was nineteen seconds … I tried to parse out what he might be saying to Kitty.

  “I know that I am asking you to move heaven and earth, Bruce dear, and on short notice, but it simply must be done, you see. This boy, Tyler,” she said, waving a hand in my direction, as though her (I hoped very good) friend could see me through the phone, “has done the impossible for me, for us, for Dee, and we simply cannot do less than the same for him.” She listened again for a moment, seeming to grow impatient with the man at the other end of the line, wanting to get back to the scene in her great room.

  “I will give you back to my Anthony now, and he’ll work out the details with your … Susan, that’s right isn’t it? I’ll call you tomorrow with my thanks, and more of an explanation, but for now you need to get moving, Dear, to make all of this happen before morning.” She handed the phone back to Anthony, and turned towards me, forgetting already about the phone and Bruce and expensive lawyers hustling through the night in her service … focused on me, and Dee.

  “As I said, my dear boy, you’ve done the impossible. I truthfully just wanted to make one more attempt to find out what had happened to Deirdre before going gentle into that good night, but you’ve done so much more. You couldn’t bring my baby back to me, but these two have been loved and missed and mourned by their people for years, and you’ve brought them back to the world, almost from the dead.” She slowed down at the end of this sentence, and then rocketed into the next.

  “Oh sweet Christ! Excuse me. How could I have been so cold and selfish? You’ll need to call your people, your families.” Kitty seemed mortified, it hadn’t occurred to me either, but they would need/want/have to get in touch with the people they had been cut off from when they had been taken.

  Morris waved the thought away, “I had nobody before I … went away. Neighbors, and casual acquaintances. My son died a long time ago, and my wife, ex-wife, hasn’t taken my calls in more than a decade.”

  “I have calls that I need to make, but it can wait a bit longer.” Samantha turned to me, “You brought us here for a reason, right? You want us to talk with her (gesturing at Kitty) about that place? Because her daughter was there before us.” I nodded, unsure of how to say anything that wouldn’t offend/upset everyone in the room.

  Samantha started talking. She spoke about her life in the days/weeks leading up to being taken, her bewilderment at the judgment and punishment meted out to her for no offense that she could recall. She spoke about the rules and something called ‘dark-punishment’ and the months and years of quiet. Morris joined in a few minutes later, sharing his guess that a lawsuit he had initiated and won, eventually resulting in the other party’s suicide, must have been the ‘crime’ that earned him his oubliette. Neither recalled ever seeing their captors, or any direct physical abuse … they were simply left alone. Their ‘caretakers’ fed and provided for their needs within some framework that the Edelmans/Reinegers had worked out decades before either Samantha or Morris was taken. Kitty and Mike hung on every word that came from their lips, likely painting a picture of their daughter/sister living this diminished life until she died in her cell, alone.

  I saw flashing lights reflected on the far wall, and assumed that Frank had arrived. I had no wish to let him interrupt what was happening here in the great room, so I stood quietly, and gestured for them to continue. I walked outside, into the cold and dark and quiet, feeling the warmth and light and earnest chatter of the great room going on, and receding, behind/without me. Frank was there, stepping out of a state trooper’s cruiser (since the happenings of last year, he liaises with the staties for the SLPD, a dubious honor/distinction that also comes with lots of meetings and paperwork). Along with the trooper, there was a pair of EMTs who must have followed them here in an ambulance which I noticed only when the cruiser’s flashers found the vehicle parked on the other side of Mike’s Porsche (I had the feeling that it was no longer my ride, and that I would likely be leaving in the back of the cruiser instead of driving anyway).

  “Tyler.” Frank waved/spoke/identified me for the trooper and walked over to shake my hand (although he knows that in the regular course of events, I don’t touch people by choice, I surmised that this was to show the trooper that, while I might be leaving in cuffs, he considered me one of the good guys … I appreciated the gesture, and tried not to ‘cold-fish shake’ him). “What do we have inside?”

  “Two people, Samantha Gotham and Morris Browning, who were kidnapped and kept in cells beneath the garage over at Juniper Bay (I looked at his eyes, and he nodded to let me know they’d found the oubliettes) for an as yet undetermined time. They’re talking with Kitty and Mike Crocker, the mother and brother of Deirdre Crocker, who was also taken and kept, but died in captivity … likely back in the early sixties. Samantha and Mor
ris seem physically stable, but are likely malnourished, and I would think will fall apart sooner or later from the shock of tonight. I wanted the Crockers to hear about the kidnapping and imprisonment from Samantha and Morris, and also figured that it might be good for them to talk about it a bit with people who have been through it from the other side, if you take my meaning.”

  “What the hell is going on here, Frank? This guy crazy-glued the Reinegers, told them there was a bomb under Sophie, who he tied to a chair. They’re friends of mine; why isn’t this freak in chains?” asked Mark.

  “Mark, how about you shut the fuck up, at least until you understand things a bit better. I’ve been under the garage at Juniper Bay, seen the … oubliette, talked with Little Bobby, who’s my wife’s nephew … sorta. This is messed up, but it’s real. The Edelmans and the Reinegers have been taking people for generations, and this ‘freak’ (at least he smiled a bit when he said it) put it together when nobody since before your daddy was born could. So you might wanna shut your pie-hole until after you get the lay of the land a bit, okay?” Frank said.

  “So they don’t require immediate medical attention, you don’t think?” Frank said, turning to address me.

  “No, they seem to be functional at the moment. If you can, I’d just as soon give them a few more minutes to talk with the Crockers, and then maybe these guys (I waved in the direction of the EMTs) could give them a ride to AMC to get checked out.”

  The trooper seemed to be having some difficulty biting his tongue, but maintained his silence while we waited in the dark. Frank asked me some predictable questions about how I’d figured out the whole thing. I gave him answers as boring as I could possibly make them. Nobody mentioned the coincidental fire that had eaten the Edelman’s boathouse, a fact for which I was very grateful. Frank was starting to wind down a bit, and began looking over at the house more frequently, when Samantha and Morris came out, led by Kitty and Mike and Anthony and the nurse.