Death by Nostalgia

by Andrew Stanek

  “I doubt Mr. Hamilton would admit to having an affair if we asked him point-blank.”

  “No,” Felix agreed. “If I have the measure of his character, he’d deny it for all his worth. But we might be able to judge the veracity of this story by the truth behind Vicky’s other stories. We could call Davey and ask him if he had a hand in shutting down Jack’s dealership, and we could ask Peter if he ever had a fight with Mr. Hamilton.”

  “I agree. Fortunately, we’ll have the opportunity to do that right now. Mr. Peter Ulverson is our next and final suspect - and witness - of the day.”

  Alders departed the interview room and returned a moment later with a tall man with straw-colored hair in army fatigues. He sat down wordlessly and waited, straight-backed, until Alders asked him a question.

  “Your name and military rank for the record?”

  “Staff Sergeant Peter James Ulverson, 38th Ordnance Detachment.”

  “Your age?”

  “29.”

  “And you are an active-duty soldier?”

  “Yes, sir. I just returned from a posting in Germany.”

  “I see. When did you return to the US?”

  “Two weeks ago.”

  “And when will you be returning overseas?”

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “How long have you been in the army, Mr. Ulverson?”

  “Ten years.”

  “Would you say you are career military then?”

  “I’d decline to say.”

  Alders asked him a few more questions about where he was staying and how he could be contacted, then launched into the matter of the murder.

  “When was the last time you saw Adriana Kettering alive?”

  “I think I must have passed her some time after noon, but the last time we spoke was about noon.”

  “Where did you pass her?”

  “I don’t know exactly.”

  “And when you spoke to her?”

  “I was standing near the crowd at the front of the old apartment building. She must have seen me and started calling to me. I came over and we started talking.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “Adriana went on about all the history we had here and about how we should bury the hatchet.”

  “What hatchet is that, exactly?”

  “Well, we’ve had our differences. Jack and Davey, for instance, never got along. Davey always teased Jack for relying on his sister so much. Maybe he still teases Jack for all I know. I haven’t been around much.”

  “I understand that you had a fight with Mr. William Hamilton about ten years ago.”

  For the first time, Peter shifted uncomfortably.

  “I wouldn’t call it a fight exactly. This was years ago. I couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Mr. Hamilton was always sort of a grouch, going on about what horrible hooligans we were and how awful the building was. When I met him yesterday, he was still a bit like that. Well, once I heard him talking about me. I don’t remember exactly what he said but it obviously wasn’t very nice. He didn’t see me - he didn’t know I was there - so I just sort of walked up to him and sucker-punched him, right in the face, really hard. There wasn’t a fight, he just kind of dropped. I must have nearly broken my hand - it smarted for days afterwards. I gave him a black eye.”

  “Do you think Mr. Hamilton holds a grudge against you?”

  “He never liked me, but yes, I think he might have something of a grudge.”

  Alders noted this down, then went on smoothly.

  “I understand it was you who brought up the bunker when you were speaking to Adriana yesterday.”

  Again, Peter shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, I guess I did. I mean, she was talking about the old days and we had a lot of laughs there. I never thought she would die there, of course. But I also told her not to go! I said it was dangerous, crazy to try to go to the bunker while the demolition was scheduled to take place in less than an hour. Maybe she thought she could get there and back before the demolition - but that turned out not to matter, didn’t it?”

  “So you and Adriana talked about the bunker. Then what happened?”

  Peter paused. “Mr. Hamilton lost his temper with Vicky. Vicky has a way of getting under people’s skin, you see, and it was easy to get under Will Hamilton’s skin. He has anger management problems, I think. Anyway, he lunged at her and I got between them and told Vicky to go. She did. That kind of ended the get-together, I think.”

  “And after that?”

  “After that I started to walk away but Vicky sort of appeared out of nowhere and started hanging on my arm.”

  “Are you and Victoria Melbrush in a relationship?” Felix interjected suddenly.

  “No,” said Peter with faint annoyance. “There’s never been anything between us. I haven’t had a steady girlfriend in years, actually, you know - what with me constantly changing postings. So you can understand that she was acting a bit overfriendly. I guess it’s because she’s always had sort of a thing for me, but I would have hoped she’d have outgrown that.”

  Alders was privately of the opinion that Vicky hadn’t matured at all since she was a teenager, but he did not interrupt Peter to say so.

  “So what did you do?”

  “I started walking around, hoping she’d leave me alone, but she didn’t. I couldn’t get away from her politely, and I felt I’d already done enough damage to Adriana’s attempt to get a reunion together, so I sort of lived with it. She walked around holding my arm until after the demolition.”

  “Were you together the whole time?”

  “No, as a matter of fact. I managed to shake her off just before one - I told her I had to go to the bathroom - but she found me again somehow just before they detonated those charges.”

  “So where were you at the time of the demolition?”

  “I was somewhere on the side of the site. Vicky had found me again by then, I think. She stayed with me until - I don’t know how much later. Eventually we sort of met up with everyone else and no one knew where Adriana was. We had no idea that she was dead, of course.”

  A silence followed as Alders scribbled down some notes. Felix was inspecting his fingers intently as he asked another question.

  “Sergeant Ulverson, were you aware that Adriana and Vicky had a falling out over you?”

  “I was - uh - aware, yes. I thought it was best to stay out of it. I think the irony was that Adriana never showed any interest in me. I mean, Adriana was much older than both Vicky and myself, three years at least, I think. We all lived on the same floor so we were all friends, but Adriana was in high school while Vicky was still in elementary. I think Vicky decided that my - er - lack of interest in her couldn’t possibly be her own fault so she blamed Adriana.”

  “So you never had a relationship with Adriana Kettering?”

  “No, sir.”

  Felix nodded, satisfied.

  Meanwhile, Alders had finished taking his notes.

  “Did you see anything suspicious yesterday?”

  “No, sir.”

  “One last question,” Felix cut in again suddenly. “Did you know that the bunker contained weapons?”

  “No. I never realized. I don’t think any of us did.”

  “Just a thought. Alders, please go on.”

  Alders nodded and asked Peter a few wrap-up questions, then dismissed Peter. He left soon thereafter. Felix, meanwhile, seemed to have become very interested in his nails. When Peter had gone, he looked up.

  “Alders, why did everyone seem to know how and where Adriana died?”

  “I told them,” Alders answered moodily as he looked over his notes. “I called them all last night and told them when I was asking them to come down to the station.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have done that. It might have made things easier.”

  The muscle in Alders’ cheek started to twitch again. “It was late and I spent quite a long time trying to find these people, Felix. Fortunately for me, most of th
em signed the guest book and some of them left phone numbers. That and Adriana had all their numbers on her phone, but I had to go get it out of evidence. Now, if you had helped-”

  Felix ignored this complaint.

  “I stand by my original observation that nostalgia has quite a lot to do with this murder investigation. They all met at a site from their pasts and childhoods. It must have reopened old wounds, brought old memories to the surface.”

  “Let’s focus on concrete facts rather than anything as vague as that,” Alders said moodily. “First, everyone’s locations at the time of the shooting. Jack Kettering. Says he was taking a walk. It sounds vague but we don’t have any evidence to contradict that. Next, Davey Kempt. Says he was in the fast food place across the street at the time of the shooting. But Jack says he saw Davey around the back of the building before the shooting, when Davey says he was in the fast food place, and Reva Hamilton also says she was in the fast food place at the time of the shooting. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t have seen each other, so either Reva or Davey is lying.”

  “Or both,” said Felix unconcernedly.

  “Or both,” admitted Alders grudgingly. “We should interview the employees at the fast food restaurant and find out if they have a security camera to see if we can verify either or both of these alibis. William Hamilton claims he was sitting in his car at the time of the demolition. Vicky Helbrush says she was taking a walk with Peter Ulverson, Peter says the same, so for the moment they’re the only pair with alibis that can be confirmed by any other person.”

  He turned to the next page in his notes.

  “In terms of motive, no one seems to have particularly good reason to have killed Adriana Kettering. Victoria Melbrush’s dispute with her doesn’t qualify, in my opinion. We’ve heard from multiple sources that Victoria and Adriana had a falling out, but I can’t see Vicky killing Adriana Kettering over an ancient romantic rivalry. On the other hand, she still seems to be attracted to Peter Ulverson. Maybe his apparent coldness towards her made her think that there was something between Adriana and him, as Peter suggested she thought in the past. However, since she was apparently with Peter at the time of the shooting, she could not have killed Adriana. It might be that Peter is misremembering the order of events or is deliberately covering for her, as he noted she was absent for some time.”

  He turned another page.

  “Vicky has suggested that Adriana was blackmailing William Hamilton. If William Hamilton really did have an affair and was paying Adriana to keep it quiet, then it would give him motive for murder, but this seems unlikely to me. There’s no evidence, at least from her bank account, that she was deriving significant profit from blackmail.”

  Felix shrugged. “On the other hand, it seems that there was at least some truth to Vicky’s allegation that Peter and Will Hamilton got into a fight. It wasn’t an all-out brawl as she implied it was, but Peter did strike Hamilton, so maybe she was telling the truth about the blackmail after all.”

  “Maybe,” Alders agreed. “I had another page of notes. Have you seen-”

  He looked up to find Felix holding the missing page, covered with scribbled notes on motive.

  “You’ve written here Jack has no motive. He seemed to love his sister, or at least depend on her, and couldn’t have killed Adriana for money because she didn’t appear to have enough to be worth killing over. Unless Vicky’s suggestion that she was blackmailing Will Hamilton is correct, of course, and she somehow kept her true wealth off the books. Davey Kempt has no obvious motive that we know of, nor does Reva Hamilton or Peter Ulverson. But I have a little suggestion I’d like to make about the motive.”

  “Which is?”

  “Not yet. I think we ought to go see the scene of the crime one more time.”

  Chapter 6

  Alders looked back around the crime scene, peering through the gloomy musk of the bunker. It was midday and light was streaming through the hole in the roof, but many of the corners of the room were still shrouded in shadow.

  “So what was this suggestion you wanted to make about motive?” Alders asked grumpily.

  “Wait just one moment,” Felix replied. He approached the wooden wall and inspected it closely.

  “There are several holes in this panelling. Are we assuming this hole is a bullet hole?” Felix said, pointing to an irregularity in the ancient wood. He peered through it and nodded slowly. “It aligns with the stand on the other side.”

  “Yes, that’s the hole,” Alders confirmed. Felix walked around to the other side of the wall.

  “Stay there,” he told Alders as he went. “I see you’ve removed the rifle.”

  “For ballistics testing, yes. What’s this got to do with motive?”

  “I’ll tell you,” Felix said, unseen behind the wooden barrier. “Suppose I am a killer lying in wait to murder you. Do you notice a problem with my trying to shoot you?”

  “You can’t see me,” Alders replied immediately. “But suppose you looked over the top of the wooden barrier, through the chain links.”

  Felix’s head appeared over the top of the wood, as Alders suggested. “Yes,” Felix agreed. “I could look at you from here. But, Alders, I am a murderer who is about to shoot you through the heart. Keep in mind that without this large hole in the roof, it’s dark in here. Also, I am timing my shot at the same time as a demolition almost right on top of us. The room may be shaking from the force of the explosion and the collapse. Attempting to aim the rifle while my head is up here is very awkward. I have to bend down to get into firing position and hold the weapon steady, perhaps fall prone. It seems to me that aiming the rifle, or even looking at my target is very difficult.”

  “What’s your point?” asked Alders testily. “That the killer made a lucky shot?”

  Felix smirked. “A colleague of mine once had a case that hinged on the killer making a lucky shot - a shot fired quickly from a small pistol at great distance that seemed to make the murder more a matter of luck than skill. Fortunately, he did not believe in lucky shots, and he was able to determine all was not how it appeared. No, Alders, here’s what I suggest: our killer arrived in this armory section determined to lie in wait for his target and noticed he had no way of seeing the victim. He therefore devised a plan - he found a convenient hole as he waited - or perhaps even bored it himself, lined up the rifle with the hole, and peered through it as he aimed the rifle. The rifle was fixed in place by the stands so it remained perfectly in alignment. He waited until he could see his target through the hole and fired.”

  “It’s an interesting idea, but what does that have to with motive?”

  “The hole is very small,” Felix said calmly. “The murderer would not have been able to see through it very well. It would have been dark, maybe shaking. Perhaps the murderer mistook his target for someone else.”

  “Interesting,” Alders remarked. “That would make motive a much broader playing field. We know Jack and Davey were old enemies - maybe Jack was waiting for Davey and tried to kill him? Or vice-versa. Reva I still can’t see trying to kill anyone. Will Hamilton seems to have something against everyone, and Vicky hates him as much as he hates her.”

  “But there’s also a problem with this idea,” Felix continued, frowning. “I’ve already made clear I don’t believe in good luck, but what about bad luck?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, in order to orchestrate this premeditated murder, the killer must have had a way to lure his intended victim to the bunker - and at exactly the right time, no less. He must not have been expecting to see anyone but his victim there and then, but if Adriana Kettering was mistaken for someone else, then our killer has had extraordinarily bad luck, and may make another attempt on the life of his intended target in the future.”

  “Perhaps you’re complicating things, Felix,” Alders said dryly. “Do we have any reason to believe that Adriana wasn’t the intended victim?”

  “No, but the lack of motive continues to be sugge
stive. Of course, motive aside, the killer must have had the means to commit the murder. I continue to believe this murder must have been premeditated. Therefore, the killer must have known he would find weapons here ahead of time. But still - why pick the decrepit, old rifle? Why pick the one that looks most battered and dysfunctional of all?”

  “Mmm.”

  “Something else to think about while we’re here,” Felix continued. “How did the killer escape? He couldn’t have gone up the staircase.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because the demolition would have been in progress at the time of the shot, bringing about ten thousand tons of destroyed building down on top of the entrance. It would be hours before the bulldozers cleared the rubble. So, he must have left by one of these two tunnels.”

  “You’re thinking that if we locate the entrances to these tunnels, we might be able to find someone who saw the killer going in or out?”

  “Yes. I suggest we start with this tunnel,” Felix said, pointing to one of the two exits to the bunker’s antechamber. The pair started down it. They found themselves in a flat, dank concrete hallway, dimly lit by little vents in the sides that apparently snaked up to the surface. The corridor stretched straight for a while and then curved. After a lengthy search, they encountered several branching paths.

  “Split up and meet back here in ten minutes?” Alders suggested.

  Felix agreed, and the two men parted ways. After about ten minutes, they both found their way back to their separation point.

  “All the entrances on this side seem to be blocked off,” Alders said. “There is one that comes out near the side of the construction site down this way, there’s a door to a sort of a basement there. This would be so much easier if there were some maps of these tunnels!”

  “Hmm... I imagine the blueprints were lost in the 1918 Earthquake, just like the building, said Felix offhandedly. I did not find any entrances in this direction, but the tunnels bend and wind significantly.”