While Rome Was Sleeping

by M. S. Forsythe

  It had started to rain and the prisoners were wet to their skin. Jack’s hand and now his arm had continued to swell and was badly infected. His head ached and he was shivering uncontrollably.

  He was overheard trying to speak to one of the other prisoners. ‘Ferret’ wordlessly opened his cage pulled him out and shoved him toward a hole in the ground that was partially full of water; he was pushed in. Jack would remain in the pit for four days.

  Rations were short, only a small portion of rice was given to the prisoners; enough to keep them alive. Jack was given nothing. He had no memory of being dragged out of the pit. He was very ill. Later he was told he had lost so much weight his clothes hung on him like a scarecrow.

  ✽✽✽

  The two Meo guides who had accompanied Kelshaw and Hubbard had escaped and returned to Vang Pao’s camp advising him of the two men’s capture.

  The General assigned several of his men to track and observe the prisoners and their whereabouts. Any attempt at rescue must not jeopardize any other prisoners. It had to be all or nothing.

  Word came that the prisoners had been divided into two groups and had been moved to different locations. Kelshaw and three other prisoners were taken to a camp close to Phou Pha Thi. Hubbard and the remaining prisoners were being moved to a camp near the Plain of Jars.

  It was reported to Vang Pao that Kelshaw, although badly beaten, was alive and had regained some strength. It was Hubbard that the observers reported was dangerously ill, having seen his hand and badly swollen arm.

  Vang Pao decided while minimal numbers of guards were with Jack and the few other prisoners, they would attempt a rescue.

  Vang’s Hmong soldiers waited until Jack had been recovered from the pit, making certain of where all the prisoners were located. Using knives and machetes, they silently and swiftly neutralized the Pathet Lao guards. ‘Ferret’ realizing what was happening attempted to get to the American prisoners, but one of the Hmongs stopped him—forever.

  Jack and the prisoners were taken to Long Tieng where Jack lay unconscious for days. Weeks of care followed before he had regained enough strength to be evacuated to Vientiane.

  Chapter 15

  Monday, September 29, 1980

  A mix of nightmares had intermingled with terrible memories throughout the night. A knocking sound brought Jack back to the surface of consciousness; there was someone at the door. Without opening the blinds he fumbled his way in the semi dark room to open the door. He recoiled briefly seeing the Asian cleric.

  ✽✽✽

  Andrew had spent the night keeping vigil at Charlene Thayer’s bedside. The hospital was Father Ben’s first stop on his way to the Center. As he entered the room he saw a still sleeping Andrew in a chair by Charlene’s bed.

  He touched Andrew’s shoulder saying gently, “Andrew, its Father Ben. Can I get you anything—perhaps some coffee? Or would you like me to stay here while you get some breakfast?”

  Andrew stretched, winced and yawned, “Ben...Oh Boy am I sore!” referring to his various cuts and bruises. “No, thanks, I’m okay for now. There is something you can do for me though; I tried to call Jack Hubbard last night, but I was unable to get him. Would you stop by the WAC and let him know what’s happened?”

  Father Ben nodded, “Of course, Andrew I will be happy to do that. How is Charlene?”

  Andrew sighed, “Not much change. Be sure and tell Jack where I am.”

  “I will, Andrew, and I will return later. Call me if there is any change or if you need anything,” he said as he moved toward the door.

  ✽✽✽

  It was a little past 8:30 when Father Ben arrived at the WAC and at the door of Jack’s room. He knocked once, twice and waited. He was about to knock again when a blurry eyed man opened the door and stepped back, somewhat shocked..., “Who are you? What do you want?” he asked warily.

  Ben was astonished at the figure that stood in the doorway. He appeared to be slightly disoriented and it was evident that he had spent the night in his clothes. Ben noticed the smell of stale alcohol.

  Sensing the man’s agitation Father Ben said quickly, “I am Father Ben Lee, Andrew Kincaid’s friend from the Seamen’s Center; are you Jack Hubbard?”

  Reality slowly came to Jack. “Yes, come in, come in Father Lee,” turning over a chair that had been lying on its side, he said apologetically, “Please sit down. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Ben heard the shower running and within five minutes Jack reappeared, still slightly wet and wearing a white terry cloth robe with W-A-C embroidered on the breast pocket.

  “Sorry, Father for the mess,” he said sheepishly. “I think I walked in my sleep—it’s just when I saw you...,” he didn’t finish.

  “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time Mr. Hubbard, but Andrew asked me to stop and tell you what has happened.”

  “Where is Andy?” Jack asked.

  Ben paused a moment and then said gently, “He is at Harborview Hospital with Charlene Thayer. You see, they were involved in an accident in West Seattle yesterday afternoon.”

  “What happened, Father?” Jack queried anxiously.

  “There was an explosion of some type. Charlene was closer so she was more injured than Andrew. Andrew has some minor injuries, but he will be fine; Charlene is not awake yet,” Ben continued cautiously.

  Jack seated on the edge of the bed, listened in numb silence as Ben related Sunday afternoon’s events. As Ben talked he noticed that Jack had begun to tremble and was soon shaking violently. Ben reached for a blanket lying on the bed and wrapped it around Jack’s shoulders.

  Alarmed Ben asked, “I’m very sorry to have upset you; what can I do for you—shall I call a doctor?”

  Jack shook his head, took a deep breath and caught Ben’s arm, “I’ll be all right; just-just give me a minute. I had a very bad night,” Jack told him.

  Father Ben appraising Jack’s bloodshot eyes, the half empty bottle of scotch and the broken glass lying on the floor across the room, said quietly, “I would say I agree with you.”

  “I want to see Andrew,” Jack told him, anxiously.

  “I don’t think you are ready to that yet—do you?”

  Jack looked at the priest for a moment wondering what to do next then got to his feet and announced, “I’ll get dressed.”

  “Good,” Ben agreed. “Then we will go to the dining room and you will have some breakfast and we will plan from there,” Ben said firmly.

  At the moment Jack lacked the internal fortitude to stand up to this new Asian captor albeit a kindly Chinese priest, but Jack suspected he was in the hands of a velvet hammer.

  ✽✽✽

  Jack studied Father Ben over his coffee. He had eaten some of his breakfast without comment and Father Ben had remained quiet as well.

  Finally Jack spoke, “I’ve heard a lot about you from Andrew; I had looked forward to meeting you. I’m embarrassed that it should be under... er, what I mean to say is that I would rather have made a bit better impression.”

  Ben responded quickly, attempting to put Jack at ease, “Mr. Hubbard,” he paused, “May I call you Jack?” he continued, “It may have been providential that we meet this way. I am aware of the fact that you were somehow connected to George Kelshaw and I’m certain his death was a shock to you. I believe it was important for me to tell you in person, about Andrew being hurt.

  Please do not be concerned about the circumstances of our meeting. I am honored to meet such a good friend of Andrew’s,” he assured him.

  “Father Ben, how long have you known Andy?” Jack queried.

  “For several years; he may have told you, one of our merchant seamen lost his papers. Andrew came to the rescue,” Father Ben chuckled, “He solved a problem that to me seemed overwhelming, within a few days.

  “I am amazed by Andrew; he has so much integrity,” Ben said fondly, “He will go to any length to help if he believes in a cause or a person. He has helped me and the Center countless times since I’ve
known him. And he has so much energy! He is a great friend.”

  “Yes, Father Ben, he is a ‘great’ friend.” Jack was thinking of his own reliance on Andrew’s integrity when he told George Kelshaw that he could trust Andrew for help.

  Breakfast finished, Ben said quietly, “If you feel you are ready now, I will be happy to take you to the hospital to see Andrew.”

  Jack nodded, “I am ready—let’s go.”

  Ben sensed the deep undercurrents operating in Jack Hubbard and he prayed silently, “Help him, Father.”

  ✽✽✽

  At his office early this Monday morning, Neil Klein had received a call from Detective Jim Savalza, made much earlier Seattle time. He had also received another call late last night from Andrew Kincaid.

  Neil asked Jim, “How is Charlene Thayer?” without waiting for a reply he added, “What have you learned about the explosion?”

  Jim responded, “Our guys are working on trying to determine what type of explosive was used... Kincaid thinks that it was dropped into a tote bag by the bench where they were sitting. It did a lot of damage.

  They were lucky... apparently Charlene left the tote by the bench and didn’t realize it. They had crossed the street when she remembered the bag and was trying to go back to get it when the thing blew up. We’re still not sure how bad she’s hurt...she’s still unconscious. There was a couple in a car that had just passed and they were pretty badly injured too. The rear end of the car took the brunt of the blast; it was a miracle that the gas tank on the car didn’t explode. Whatever it was, it wasn’t designed to take a wide area, otherwise nobody would be around.

  “Andrew said he has some idea of who could be responsible. Oh, by the way, he and I cleaned ‘bugs’ out of his apartment last night; just thought you should know.”

  Klein responded, “Yes, he told me that too. Detective Savalza, please tell Andrew that we’re investigating at this end and that we have ideas too.”

  ✽✽✽

  As Jim was concluding his call to Neil Klein, Ed Peterson stuck his head in the office.

  “Got a minute, Savalza?” he asked.

  “Sure, what’s up?” Jim replied pleasantly.

  Ed slid into a chair and spoke privately. “I had this call yesterday from Dora Maxwell.”

  “Oh yeah? What did she want?” he responded, his curiosity aroused.

  Ed produced a scrap of paper with what looked like a telephone number written on it and handed it to Savalza saying, “She asked if I could come by the house sometime yesterday and I did. She said she had been going through some of Monte’s clothes before sending them to Goodwill and she found this in the pocket of a suit that Monte had worn the week he was killed.”

  Savalza shrugged saying, “Well it could have been in there for months...”

  “No,” Ed replied, “Dora said it had just come from the cleaners...”

  Savalza looked at the writing on scrap of paper; there was the letter ‘R’ and what looked like a local telephone number.

  “What do you think?” Ed questioned as he looked over Savalza’s shoulder at the paper. “Do you think it means anything?”

  “I don’t know—let’s dial it and find out.”

  Ed smiled, he loved a mystery, “You remember Dora said that Monte told her he was on a stake-out with me. I have to wonder if that number had anything to do with...”

  Jim was dialing; he waved Ed to silence. He heard a cold voice answer on the second ring, “Ramsey...hello,” he said again, impatiently.

  “Hello, who did you say?” Jim asked innocently.

  “This is Lyle Ramsey, who is this?” he demanded.

  “This is Detective James Savalza, Seattle PD.”

  Ramsey paused and then said coolly, “This is Lyle Ramsey of Ramsey and Carr. Your call came in on my private line, Detective, who were you calling and how did you get this number?”

  “I’m very sorry, Mr. Ramsey, it’s obviously the wrong number or I must have misdialed. Please excuse the call; I’m very sorry to have disturbed you,” Jim offered apologetically.

  He quickly hung up and looked up at Ed Peterson, “I got Lyle Ramsey on his private line—now why do you suppose Monte would have Ramsey’s private number?”

  Ed scratched his head, “Beats me, Monte sure couldn’t have afforded a high powered law dog like that and why would he need one anyway? Do you think this could have anything to do with him being killed?”

  “I don’t know, Ed, but I think it raises some interesting possibilities. You’re right, it certainly doesn’t fit Monte’s profile.”

  “I have a meeting so I’ve got to get going, Jim, keep me posted and if you want me to do anything, just holler,” Ed said as he left the office.

  “Thanks, Ed, I will, definitely.”

  ✽✽✽

  In his office Ramsey pondered the call and drew an uneasy breath. “It could have been a misdial.” Lyle shook his head in disgust thinking of Maxwell’s failure, “It is also possible that my number could have surfaced in some of that idiot’s belongings. This will bear watching,” he said to the portrait staring down at him.

  ✽✽✽

  Jim took the scrap of paper, tucked it into a plastic bag pocketed it and left for Harborview. He figured he could kill two birds with one stone; check on Charlene and talk with Andrew in the same visit.

  He found Andrew in Charlene’s room ..., “Any change?” he asked.

  Andrew shook his head, but said quietly, “I think she had a good night.”

  “That’s good. Let me buy you a cup of coffee,” he urged; seeing that Andrew was reluctant to leave he added, “This won’t take long.” In the corridor Jim spoke softly, “Had an interesting development this morning, I think you’ll find it very interesting as well.”

  They reached the cafeteria and after getting coffee they took a table in the mostly empty room.

  “What’s going on?” Andrew asked, “What is this new development?”

  “Ed Peterson came in to see me this morning to give me this,” he removed the scrap of paper from the plastic bag and placed it in Andrew’s hands saying, “Ed had a call from Dora Maxwell yesterday asking him to stop by...she thought it might mean something. It came out of one of Monte’s suit pockets—a suit that he had worn the same week he was killed. Dora said the suit had just been cleaned.

  “I don’t know what it means, but I called the number and guess who answered the phone? I rang in on the private line of Lyle Ramsey... you know, the Lyle Ramsey of Ramsey & Carr.”

  Andrew stared at the name, “Hmmn,” Andrew puzzled over the telephone number written on the scrap of paper. “Why would Monte Maxwell have access to the private number of Lyle Ramsey? Unless...” Suddenly Neil Klein’s words ‘large and local’ loomed in Andrew’s consciousness.

  “Jim, if Monte had this number I would be willing to bet the farm that it’s connected to the murder of George Kelshaw. Now the question is how and what would Ramsey have to gain? Unless...” Andrew continued, “I think I’d better let Neil Klein know about this little development.”

  “Good idea Andy, and in the meantime I’ll do some quiet investigating of Mr. Ramsey at my end.”

  “Thanks, Jim... I’ll see you later and I’ll call you after I talk to Klein, but right now I’d better get back.”

  ✽✽✽

  10:00 AM

  Andrew had just reached Charlene’s room when he saw Father Ben and Jack approaching. He noted Jack’s bloodshot eyes and haggard appearance. Andrew looked at Ben questioning. Ben returned his gaze without expression.

  “Hi,” Jack said to Andrew, “How are you--you don’t look so good, buddy.”

  “You don’t look all that good either, friend,” Andrew replied. I know what happened to me—but what happened to you?”

  At that, Father Ben shook his head at Andrew with a “Don’t go there,” expression. “How is Charlene?” he asked.

  “I don’t know; the doctor’s with her now.”

  One of t
he nurses came out and called, “Mr. Kincaid would you step in here for a moment?”

  Andrew immediately followed the nurse into Charlene’s room while Father Ben and Jack waited. To his surprise and delight Charlene’s lips were moving asking for Andrew and when he spoke she seemed to recognize his voice.

  “Hey,” he said, “It’s about time you woke up...how are you feeling?”

  The doctor broke in, “You can have a couple of minutes with her, Mr. Kincaid; now that she’s awake we have a few tests that we would like to do; then we’ll see where we are.”

  The staff left leaving Andrew and Charlene alone. He leaned over the bed and lightly kissed her forehead, “You really gave me a scare,” he told her.

  “Andrew, I can’t see,” she said weakly.

  “That’s because your eyes are bandaged...but its okay, you’re going to be fine,” he reassured her.

  “But what if it isn’t ..? What happened?”

  “It will be and we’ll talk about what happened later. Right now, you just need to get better. I love you and—don’t worry—not at all,” he admonished.

  The doctor reappeared and Andrew kissed her hand and said, “I’ll be back,” saying to the doctor, “Take good care of her.”

  Father Ben was smiling, “She’s awake?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank God.” Andrew drew a deep breath.

  “Yes, indeed thank God,” Ben replied.

  Jack stood forlornly by the door. “Andy, I am so sorry—this should never have happened to you.”

  “I’m sorry too, but too many things have happened that shouldn’t have and I’m going find out what’s behind them.”

  Jack nodded his head as Andrew continued, “When this all settles down I want to know the rest of the story with you and Kelshaw.”

  Looking into space Jack murmured, “Yeah.”

  Father Ben had been watching Jack as he and Andrew were talking. Drawing Andrew aside he said in a low voice, “Keep us informed of Charlene’s progress and don’t worry, Andrew, her eyes will be just fine,” he assured. Then turning to Hubbard he said, “Come with me to the Center—I could use your help today, Jack,” he directed.