‘I’d like to see the sheriff, please.’
‘The sheriff? You got an appointment?’
‘No, ma’am. I was hoping to catch him in the office.’
‘Let me see if I can set you up an appointment next Monday or Tuesday,’ she said pulling out a calendar.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t come back on a weekday. I have to work.’
‘Don’t we all? Well, maybe I can get the sheriff to stop by and see you. Where do you work?’
‘I don’t think that would be possible.’
‘Why not?’ the woman asked, then her eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh, I get it. You’re from out there, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘What in heaven’s name are you doing here? You have your own police department and your own security force. Go see them. You’ve got no business here.’
I wrapped my fingers around the edge of the counter and leaned forward. ‘Please, ma’am, the body of my friend’s sister was found in Knox County.’
‘Still, Sheriff Lawrence doesn’t like to mess with you people. You’re nothing but trouble.’
‘Please?’ I begged.
The woman exhaled hard. ‘I’ll go ask. Ain’t making any promises. If he has any sense, he won’t see you.’ She shuffled out as if she had all the time in the world. But in a moment, she was back. ‘I forget to ask: what’s your name?’
‘Elizabeth Clark, ma’am.’
The woman harrumphed as if my name were an affront and waddled into the back. When she returned, she pushed open the gate in the counter and said, ‘C’mon. It seems he’s in a real good mood today. Despite my advice, he’ll see you.’
The secretary stopped at a doorway marked with ‘Charles R. Lawrence, Sheriff, Knox County’ in gilt lettering on glass. She rapped on the door and threw it open. ‘Sheriff, here she is.’
‘Miss Clark,’ he said. ‘Come on in and have a seat. What can I do for you today?’ With his cowboy-style hat, sharp nose and dimpled chin, the sheriff brought to mind Tom Mix, one of my childhood matinee favorites.
‘Sheriff, I wanted to talk to you about Irene Nance.’
‘Who?’
‘The woman whose body you recovered out near the Solway gate last weekend.’
‘Oh, right. We found one of those identification badges that y’all use.’
‘She was my friend’s sister.’
‘I’m surprised her sister isn’t here with you then.’
‘She’s gone home for the funeral, sir,’ I said.
‘Whereabouts? Up north somewhere?’
‘No, sir. She’s a Tennessee girl – from Lynchburg.’
‘But you’re not a Tennessee girl.’
‘No, sir.’
‘You almost sound like a Yankee – but not quite.’
‘I was raised in Virginia, south central Virginia. I moved up to my aunt’s home in Philadelphia after my father died.’
‘Next best thing to a Tennessee girl is a Virginia girl. We’re nearly neighbors,’ he said, smiling for the first time since I entered his office.
‘The important thing is not me. It’s Irene. I wanted to know what you observed where her body was discovered.’
‘Really?’ he said, furrowing his brow as he rested his forearms on his desk and leaned toward me. ‘And why would you want to know that?’
‘I suspect that you saw no evidence to indicate that she had been killed at the spot where her body was found.’
‘And why would you suspect that?’
‘Because, sir, I saw her body at another location the day before those boys came across her on the riverbank.’
‘Where was that?’
‘Under the bleachers in the athletic field at the high school.’
‘The high school at Clinton Engineer Works?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Lawrence leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands on his chest. ‘Well, then, it’s not my case. It’s out of my jurisdiction. I’ll close the book on it now.’
‘Sheriff, please don’t. No one is investigating her death. Her family—’
‘Not my case, miss. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work,’ he said, rising to his feet.
I refused to take the hint. I stubbornly nestled down firmly in the chair. ‘Sheriff, I need your help. Irene needs your help.’
‘Well, you’re going to have to find it from your people, not from me.’
‘I don’t understand why you won’t help.’
‘It’s pretty simple, actually. First of all, I don’t want to meddle in an investigation that will bring me to the attention of the federal government – it’s not healthy in a time of war. Secondly, I can’t say I care for you people or what you have done.’
‘Irene’s done nothing to you. Irene’s family has done nothing to you. I’ve done nothing to you.’
‘That’s all true. But none of you’d be here causing problems for us if you hadn’t rolled in and stolen our land.’
I stood then and stepped close to his desk. ‘Sir, we were informed that all that land was bought and paid for by the federal government.’
‘Sure, it was paid for,’ he said. ‘But it’s not like any of us had a choice in the matter. It’s not like we could name our price.’
‘You lost property?’
‘My parents’ farm – gone. You’ve probably walked over their land and not even known or cared that it mattered to somebody.’
‘I’m sorry – it’s the war, sir. We’re doing important work to defeat the Axis powers.’
‘And what exactly do you do?’
I felt the warmth of color rising in my face as I answered, ‘I can’t tell you that, sir. I’m sorry I—’
‘Thought so. You’re all the same. All sorts of strange rumors are floating around these parts. You’re our neighbors but you don’t act like it. Not a word to put our minds at ease.’
‘Sir, I can’t—’
‘I know you can’t. It’s just pretty frustrating. Let me tell you about my Uncle Henry. He had it even worse than my parents. He used to run a business up in the mountains. Old Teddy Roosevelt came in and claimed his property as part of the Great Smokey Mountain National Park – all a part of our national heritage, he says. Henry set up a business in a new place. Along comes Franklin Delano Roosevelt. He takes that from him for the Tennessee Valley Authority – to bring electricity into the rural homes for the good of everyone. Then you all come along and take the third place he set up his business for that secret installation you got out there. And you say it’s to win the war. Well, my Uncle Henry pretty much thinks you all are out to get him. And I can’t say I blame him. There are a lot of people out there like my uncle. Don’t expect any of us to be looking for a way to do you a good turn.’
‘Sir, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry about what happened to your family but I didn’t—’
‘Yes, you did. You would not be here taking up my time if you all hadn’t dispossessed my Uncle Henry. Can you find your way out?’
‘Sir, I would have thought murder would be important to someone in your position.’
‘Let me tell you something, miss. Sometimes you’ve got to decide your priorities. Now if we were talking about a nice young woman who never did a thing wrong in her life, I could get all excited about this case. But we’re talking about a tramp here.’
‘Sir, you didn’t even know Irene. How can you say that?’
‘Because I saw the autopsy report, miss. That Irene Nance was carrying a child when she died – pregnant and unmarried. That’s some kind of floozy in my book. Now, are you through wasting my time?’
‘Yes sir,’ I turned away to leave. I doubted that Ruth knew that Irene had been expecting. That added complication provided an additional reason for her murder.
Before I reached the door and stepped out of the office, the sheriff added, ‘And don’t bother coming round here no more.’
Once I was outside of the city limits and didn’t have to co
ncentrate on navigating the streets, I reflected on my experience with the sheriff and was humbled by my apparent naiveté. How could I possibly think an outsider would want to help? I’d heard the stories about the hostility out in the community. I should have known better.
No help would be forthcoming from the inside either; I’d have to be sneaky to get what I needed. ‘The ends justify the means’ rolled through my head, taunting me. I ignored it. I didn’t need to get a search for the truth about Irene all mixed up with a big philosophical question. I’d think about that later.
The closer I got to the Solway Bridge, the better I felt. It would be a relief to get back on familiar territory – to return to the place where, despite the obstacle of my gender, I’d found some measure of acceptance and friendship. Someone would help me – I just had to find the right person.
But once I crossed that bridge, my day grew even worse.
SEVENTEEN
I was humming ‘It Had to Be You’ as my tires rolled up to the gate. I rolled down my window, flashed my badge and was puzzled when I wasn’t waved right through to the property. When I first arrived with Dr Morton that was what happened then. But this time, the guard took my identification, walked several steps away, and turned his back to me as he pulled out his two-way radio. At first, I imagined it was just a new security precaution.
The guard quickly disabused me of that notion. He returned with shoulders back, his walk stiff and a stern expression on his face. He reached down to the handle and flung open the door. ‘Please step out of the vehicle, Miss Clark.’
The machine gun and tanks pointing in my direction suddenly felt even more menacing than they had before. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘No problem at all, ma’am, if you will step out of the vehicle.’
I swung out my legs and stood on the ground beside the car. ‘OK. I’m out of the vehicle. Can you explain the problem to me now?’
He wrapped a hand around my elbow and propelled me over to the other side of the road. ‘Just stay right here. Someone will be picking you up in a few minutes.’
‘Picking me up? Whatever for? I can drive wherever I need to go.’ Was there some rule about having a car inside the gate than I violated without knowing it?
He turned away and walked back to the car.
I started to follow him but he spun around. ‘Ma’am, I do have handcuffs. I’d really rather not use them.’
I backed up. Is this man crazy? ‘Handcuffs? What is wrong with you? Handcuff me? Have you lost your mind?’
‘Miss Clark, we normally do restrain car thieves, but since—’
‘Car thief? Are you calling me a car thief?’
‘Yes, ma’am, as you probably should have expected, the owner has filed a stolen vehicle report.’
‘He did not. He loaned me this car.’ Did Hank report his car stolen? And why?
‘Yes, ma’am, that’s what they all say,’ he said as he walked back to the other side of the road, slid behind the steering wheel and leaned over to rummage in the glove compartment.
‘This is absurd. I have not stolen this car. I have the owner’s permission …’
The guard turned his head around and asked, ‘Do you have it in writing?’
‘Of course not. If this is a prank, it doesn’t seem very funny right now.’
The guard shrugged. ‘Someone will be coming by to transport you into town. Now if you’ll just stand there quietly, I’ll take care of my job over here.’
Another vehicle came across the Solway Bridge, stopped at the gate and showed identification. The guard looked at the badges of all three people in the car and allowed them through. The woman in the back seat stared at me as they drove past. I was mortified.
A jeep pulled up to the guard station. A private stepped out, saluted the guard and said, ‘I’m here to transport Elizabeth Clark.’
I looked over to the guard. When he nodded, I climbed into the passenger seat. The private executed a U-turn and took off at a speed that made every bump in the road send me bouncing up and down.
‘What’s your name, soldier?’ I asked.
‘Private Leland, ma’am,’ he answered without looking at me.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘To the administration building.’
‘Do you know why?’
‘No, ma’am. Can’t say that I do. Everythin’ is on a need-to-know basis and nobody figures I need to know anythin’.’ He looked at me with a grin. ‘That’s why they call us privates, I reckon. Keep everythin’ private from us.’
He pulled into the rut-filled lot and parked.
‘What now?’ I asked.
‘I’ll be escortin’ you in, ma’am.’
I followed him through the large front doors, up a flight of stairs and down a hall to a door marked: Lieutenant James Cooper, Commander, Military Police. He knocked on it, turned the knob and pushed it open. I walked inside and Private Leland pulled the door shut behind me.
Lieutenant Cooper’s chiseled face appeared harsh, sour and unforgiving. I thought with a smile he’d be rather handsome but without it, he had the look of an angry hawk. His prominent nose, thin lips and dark brown eyes without a trace of warmth gave him the look of a predator. He rose from between the two flags standing sentinel behind his desk. The brass on his jacket gleamed as it caught the light with every movement. ‘Please have a seat, Miss Clark,’ he said, gesturing to a straightback wooden chair that looked about as comfortable as a new pair of shoes soaked in saltwater.
I perched on the chair’s edge, adjusting my posture to conform to the military rigidity of the lieutenant and the two other officers in the spartan room. In contrast, there were also four men in business suits, slumped against the walls. I felt surrounded by hostile forces. The soft breath of unspoken threat hung in the air.
The lieutenant eased back into his chair, placed his forearms on his desk and leaned forward. ‘Where have you been, Miss Clark?’
‘I went to Knoxville, sir.’
‘What was the nature of your trip?’
‘I had personal business to attend to, sir.’ My mouth suddenly felt dry. I swallowed quickly to generate some moisture.
‘You are a scientist, Miss Clark. We are at war. You have no personal business. Everything you do is subject to our examination.’
I refused to be bullied. I straightened my back a bit more and stared straight ahead without responding.
‘Miss Clark, we know where you have been. We received a call from the sheriff. We know you told him that you and Miss Ruth Nance found the body of Irene Nance at the high school. In doing so, you violated the security of this facility and thereby, the security of this nation.’
‘That, sir, is an outrageous allegation. The death of one young woman who worked reception at the guest hotel is not a matter of national security.’ The sheriff had reported me? Why? He made no attempt to hide his disdain for everyone here. Was that all an act?
‘How many times have you seen that billboard with the message: “What you see here, stays here”, Miss Clark?’
‘I did not reveal any information about the work we do. I simply wanted to talk to local law enforcement about the death of a friend’s sister. I have an obligation to the family.’
‘Then you should be happy for the family that their loved one’s body was found outside the fence. They’ll get a death certificate and the parents will be able to bury their child.’
‘What are you saying, sir?’
‘On this side of the gates, death certificates are classified information. If you were run over in the street, your mother would not get a death certificate. If you slipped, fell down the steps in front of your house, banged your head and died, your mother would not get a death certificate.’
Was he threatening me?
‘Do you understand me, Miss Clark?’
I nodded.
‘Do you understand that your obligation to your country outweighs your obligation to any one or any thing else.’
<
br /> ‘Sir, a young woman is dead – murdered. I cannot comprehend how that is a matter of national security.’
The man in the brown suit against the wall behind Cooper’s desk stepped forward and slid into the chair beside me. ‘Miss Clark, people are not murdered here. There is no crime here. People are safe here.’
‘Most people are, I suppose,’ I said, making a heroic effort to tamp down my bubbling anger.
‘We – and that means everyone in this room, including you – have an obligation to make sacrifices to win this war. The price of defeat is far too high. You, like all the scientists here, are working to make that happen every day. But you have a responsibility to more than just the science of this project. You also have a moral responsibility to help us protect the emotional health of our little community, to create an environment where you can do your work unimpeded. We expected you to do all you can do to keep up the morale among the workers. It is a heavy burden that we all share and take very seriously.’
‘And how does this impact a proper investigation of this murder?’ I asked.
The brown-suited man sighed. ‘Miss Clark, I believe you are very sincere in your belief. But if you persist in spreading this story, it will have a deleterious effect on our community. Can you imagine how the anxiety will elevate if they believed your little tale? How would the married scientists be able to focus on their work if their wives are at home, quaking in fear? How will the Calutron girls be able to get to work every day if they are fearful of walking the streets? And to say it happened at the high school! Are you trying to frighten the children, too?’
‘Perhaps they should all know so that they can safeguard their own lives,’ I retorted.
The man sighed, looked to the lieutenant with raised eyebrows. Cooper leaned back in his chair and looked over to another man in a blue suit wearing a wide boldly patterned tie. That man pushed off the wall and walked in front of me, easing his rump down onto the front edge of the desk. ‘How often did Irene Nance go down to the hutments?’
He had a much more intimidating presence than the lieutenant. The military man appeared capable of maintaining control at all times; this other man looked like losing it would be his idea of fun. I struggled to hide my budding fear. ‘What? What does that have to do with anything? Her body was found at the high school.’ I jutted out my chin in a gesture of a bravado I did not feel.
Scandal in the Secret City Page 12