by J K Ellem
Wind Dancer would have been equipped with an emergency positioning beacon, but it hadn’t been activated according to the Coast Guard.
Shaw opened up another tab on the web browser and called up a more detailed map of the area and zoomed in on Erin’s Bay. There were no other outlying islands past the point of the last known position of the Wind Dancer, just the infinite expanse of the Atlantic. If Edward Brenner had kept on a linear course as plotted by the only two sightings of his sail boat, he would eventually have hit the west coast of France many weeks later.
The newspaper article went onto explain that Edward Brenner was not a fisherman, but a very accomplished sailor, having won - in his youth - several open-ocean sailing competitions. The Brenner family was a very private family on the island. The article did mention briefly Abigail Brenner, his daughter and only child who had been distraught at the disappearance of her father.
Shaw sat back and stared at the computer screen for a while, thinking and assembling the facts in his head. Shaw noted the name of the reporter. He scrolled ahead a few more days of the newspaper and found another article written by the same reporter that gave an update on the search for Edward Brenner and his sailing boat.
Nothing had been found. A local police officer had been interviewed and reported the typical line of “we are following up on,” but they had nothing solid yet as to the whereabouts of Edward Brenner. They believed no foul-play was involved. Speculation soon surfaced from a few locals who were interviewed by the reporter that Edward Brenner was having an affair and decided to sail to South America to rendezvous with his new lover. Shaw had to smile.
The Coast Guard pushed their search further out to sea but failed to locate any traces of the boat or wreckage.
Hearing movement behind him, Shaw glanced around to see Annie Haywood standing behind him.
“How did you do?” she asked. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
Shaw swiveled in the seat and regarded her for a moment. “Thanks, yes, I did.”
Annie hovered for a moment, her eyes looking past Shaw to the computer screen. “Edward Brenner,” she said. “I don’t mean to pry, but why are you researching his disappearance?”
Too late now, Shaw thought. “Like I said, just curiosity, mainly.” Shaw didn’t want the company or attention but that didn’t stop Annie Haywood from pulling up a chair and sitting down beside him. “It is a mystery,” she said. “They still haven’t found him.”
“What do you know about it?”
Annie smiled, “I arrived here after it happened. But the locals still talk about it, they all have their theories.”
“Theories?” Shaw said slowly. “Or just local gossip?”
“Whatever makes good gossip or reading in the local paper. Nothing really much happens around here outside of the summer months so I guess it fuelled a bit of interest for a while. A few reporters from New York came up and started questioning locals, I believe. It even made the news for a few days on the main networks.”
“And now?” Shaw asked. “Three years later?”
Annie shrugged, “Coast Guard called off the search from what I’ve been told. Police have put it down to ‘lost at sea’ I guess. There’s been no sighting or traces at all.” Shaw knew there wasn’t much the local authorities could do as time dragged on. Resources would have been stretched and decisions eventually made to call off the search. The case would still be open, like the other tens of thousands of missing persons’ cases that there were all over the country. If foul play was involved, the cases would never be closed, even when the missing person would surely be dead now from age.
“And what’s your theory?” Shaw asked. “It sounds like you have done some digging of your own.”
“I did at first. I was just curious, like you. And, like I said, not much happens around here in Erin’s Bay. I’m good at research and I like to read as well.”
“And?” Shaw prompted her. “What do you think happened to Edward Brenner?”
Annie gave Shaw a skeptical look, like she was sizing him up. “I think he committed suicide.”
This was quite a surprise for Shaw, something he hadn’t considered. “Really?”
Annie continued, “Think about it. Edward Brenner, a very capable sailor, knew the waters around here better than most. He was a very private man but the few people who knew him around here said that he really hadn’t seemed happy in the months leading up to his disappearance.”
“Like who? His family?”
“No, just other people down at the boat harbor, people around town, other sailors. He seemed to be a very friendly, talkative person, I’ve been told. Then he seemed to withdraw into himself. Became a recluse. Maybe he suffered from depression.”
“So a rich man decides to end his life?” Shaw asked.
Annie’s expression clouded over, “Having money doesn’t necessarily make you happy.”
“I know, but I’d rather have money than not,” Shaw countered. “It gives you freedom, gives you choices,”
“What kind of freedoms Mr…?”
“Ben Shaw.”
Annie introduced herself as well.
“Believe me,” Shaw continued, “I’m not a materialistic person. But having some money allows me to travel with no ties, no commitments.”
“So, what do you do?” Annie asked her curiosity piqued by Shaw’s comments, the morning in the library looking more interesting than she had expected.
“You seem to be playing detective. You tell me.”
Annie sat back and made a show of studying him. He certainly had a nice smile and made her feel at ease somewhat. But she was still guarded about Shaw, her mind not made up. He looked fit, lean, quiet and unassuming, but there was something below the surface, a certain underlying menace about him.
“Well, you’re not from around here.”
Shaw nodded but offered no more.
“You’re not a cop.”
Thank God she didn’t make that mistake, Shaw thought.
“Nor a journalist. But you have been in law enforcement of some kind, in the past maybe.”
Shaw was impressed. “How so?”
Annie tilted her head. “Just a feeling I get. Your line of inquiry. The way you ask questions.”
“Does that worry you?” Shaw said. “If I were a cop?”
“You certainly don’t look like one.” It wasn’t the police Annie was worried about. It was something entirely different, and worse.
“Look, I’m just interested in what happened,” Shaw offered. “I’m staying in town for a few days and thought it was something interesting.”
Annie held Shaw’s gaze. “Most visitors around here tend to visit the beaches, the harbor towns, see the local sights. They tend not to sit in the library on a perfectly sunny Saturday morning looking up old newspaper articles about a man who disappeared three years ago.”
“Like I said, it just caught my interest.”
Annie wasn’t entirely convinced. “Where are you staying?”
Shaw paused for a moment, contemplating if he should tell her. “I’m staying at the Brenner Estate.”
Annie raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Shaw smiled, imagining what was going through Annie’s mind. He guessed everyone around here knew of Abby Brenner.
“So you’re a relative?”
Shaw shook his head.
“Family friend?”
Another shake.
Annie folded her arms. “Why don’t you just ask Abby Brenner about her father?”
“You know her?” Shaw asked.
“Everyone knows Abigail Brenner in these parts. You can hardly miss her or her car.” Annie replied. “She has a tendency to collect speeding tickets I’ve heard.”
“You make it sound like a bad thing, like she has a reputation.”
“Look Mr. Shaw—“
“Ben—please, call me Ben.”
Annie eyed Shaw skeptically. “Look Ben, it’s really none of my
business. But she’s known as a bit of a wild child that one. Has had a few run-ins with local police. Nothing serious.” Annie looked away. “I feel sorry for her. Losing her father and all. It must be hard at her age.”
“Hard at any age,” Shaw added.
“I don’t know her personally. And I doubt it if she’s ever come in here.” Annie said.
“Look, I’m just after some local knowledge, that’s all. Information that I can’t get out of the usual sources like the newspapers or archives. And you sound like the kind of person who’d know a lot about what happens or has happened around here or could steer me in the right direction.”
Annie said nothing, her mind still processing the man in front of her. He didn't look like a threat. But neither was he telling her the whole story of his intentions.
Shaw leaned forward, “Please, Annie. Can you help me?”
Moments later Annie said “yes” without realizing she had.
14
Older newspaper records were kept downstairs in the basement in the library archives.
Shaw found himself among rows of old filing cabinets and a labyrinth of steel shelving stacked high with more books for storage and retrieval.
Fluorescent tubes hissed and flickered overhead painting everything in a dull insipid light. The air smelled of paper, glue and dust. The library was typically quiet for a Saturday and no one else had come in. So Annie activated the front door buzzer and took with her a portable pager. If someone came in, then the pager would beep and she would return to the counter upstairs.
Another computer terminal sat on a large desk. “This computer terminal has access to a more extensive range of library resources and older documents,” Annie explained as she pulled on a chair and sat down. “Older newspaper articles or periodicals are scanned and saved on this drive only.” Annie flipped on a boxy black external hard drive that sat next to the computer.
Shaw wanted to go back at least five years or more to find what he could about news on the island and in particular Edward Brenner and the family history.
“On this drive could be what you are looking for.” Annie logged in and started combing through the files on the hard drive while Shaw watched, impressed by her hand and mouse speed. The screen was a blur of movement. Multiple windows were opened, dragged, expanded, quickly scanned by Annie’s intent eyes then quickly closed if irrelevant. It took her a few minutes what may have taken Shaw hours to find.
"There you go," she said sitting back in the chair. "That's all the digital copies we have of the newspapers around the time Edward Brenner went missing and some earlier history. I’ve almost combined it with what was on the library database as well.”
The screen was covered with a montage of pictures and scanned copies of old newspaper articles from local and state-based newspapers. Shaw leaned closer to Annie and caught a faint scent of the ocean, fresh and clean with a just a hint of sandalwood.
Annie scrolled through more articles she had cropped and set aside in a separate folder. "From what I can tell—" Annie's pager buzzed, interrupting what she was about to say. She got up. "Here, you have a read. I'll be back in a moment."
While Annie went back upstairs, Shaw ran through the files of information. It was more in depth than what he had found on the internet before. One business magazine article gave a detailed account of Edward Brenner's biography and how he was the founder of Brenner Industries, a specialist engineering and component manufacturing company. The company grew from humble beginnings - just Edward Brenner alone in his shed tinkering with a metalwork lathe making one-off custom tools for local farmers—into a national company, that at its peak employed nearly two hundred employees and was worth close to $500 million. The company had several large government contracts including one with the US Department of Defense. But Edward Brenner, a mechanical engineer by trade, was a shrewd operator. Over the years, Brenner had gradually sold down his interests in the company to private investors but still kept a minority share of company stock. The business article said that his timing was impeccable. Edward Brenner foresaw the rise of low-cost Chinese manufacturing and the dumping of cheaply made tools onto the US market. It was time for Edward Brenner to get out. Even the military contract he had was being scrutinized for cost savings in light of tight government budgetary spending. So he sold down his share of the company and retired with more money than he needed. He bought the beach front estate along the peninsula in Erin’s Bay for a bargain price from a bankrupt Internet millionaire just after the Global Financial Crisis. Edward Brenner held most of his fortune in cash after the sale of his stock so he rode out the GFC in relative comfort.
Annie came back down the stairs. "Just a woman browsing the shelves, but she’s gone now."
She sat down next to Shaw. "So Edward Brenner was worth close to $200 million when he vanished." Shaw said.
"Apparently his daughter has a trust fund set up I’ve heard,” Annie said. “She must be getting an allowance from it to live how she does. No doubt when she turns a certain age she will get access to a whole lot more money."
"What about the mother?" Shaw asked.
"A recluse," Annie replied. "Went to pieces apparently after her husband disappeared. There is one rumor I heard, though."
Shaw looked questioningly at Annie.
"Well, a lot of folks around here think that the wife killed him."
"Why?" Shaw asked. "What possible motive would she have?"
"His money, I guess. Margaret Brenner is his second wife. Much younger, too."
Shaw raised an eyebrow. "I haven't actually seen her yet, stays in her bedroom a lot I’ve been told."
Annie gave a knowing smile. "Well, she's inherited the lot, I imagine, except for what’s in Abigail's trust fund." Annie reached across, took the mouse and called up another file she had cropped and dropped articles into. There was a series of pdf files, all newspaper articles or gossip magazine snippets. "Margaret Brenner has been on the scene for just about ten years. Got a job in the head office in Portland, Oregon initially as a secretary." Annie opened several of the pdfs and arranged them neatly across the screen like she was playing solitaire.
Shaw read the articles while Annie continued. "Apparently she came on really strong with the boss, singled him out because he had money. Margaret Billingham, as she was known back then, was a single mother. She played out some sob-story that pulled at Edward Brenner’s heart-strings."
One article labeled Margaret Billingham as a "gold digger" in that she knew Edward Brenner and his first wife, Alice, were having marriage difficulties so she wasted no time going after him. Another article painted her as an opportunist who shamelessly flaunted herself in front of the boss. The journalist, who wrote the article, had managed to track down another secretary in the Portland office of Brenner Industries. The woman, now retired, was more than willing to dish the dirt on Margaret Billingham.
The former secretary recalled that Margaret Billingham at first dressed extremely conservatively in the office, wore very little make-up and seemed like a pleasant, dedicated employee who kept to herself and just did her job. Within a few weeks though, she completely transformed herself. Low-cut dress tops, short skirts and high-heels became her standard wardrobe together with finely tuned make-up, all designed to attract the attention of Edward Brenner. And it worked.
There were long "working lunches" between them and rumors of afterhours rendezvous at a motel just far enough from the office so as not to draw attention. Within a few months, Margaret Billingham was promoted to Edwards Brenner's personal assistant, a newly-created role, and given a healthy pay rise, directly authorized by the boss. Edward then insisted on taking her away with him on long business trips while Alice stayed at home looking after their young daughter, Abigail.
"So Abby has a step mother as well?" Shaw said.
Abby nodded. "Margaret is her stepmother."
"What happened to Alice Brenner, his first wife?"
"Apparently she committed suic
ide, overdosed when she found out her husband was having an affair with his assistant, a woman nearly half his age."
This was a revelation for Shaw. He certainly didn't expect Abby to tell him all of the family history and was glad that he'd found Annie to help him understand the situation. No wonder Abby was a "wild child" and had gone off the rails at times. First, her father has an affair, then her biological mother commits suicide, then her father goes missing in another possible suicide.
Shaw kept reading. After his wife's death, Edward Brenner found solace in the arms of Margaret but he denied that they had any prior relationship. They we married six months later and Abigail inherited a stepmother.
"You said Margaret Billingham was a single mother?" Shaw asked. "What happened to her children?"
"Don't know," Annie replied. “I didn’t really look that far. I can see what I can dig up for you."
Shaw looked at his watch. "I need to get going. Look, thanks for helping me."
"No problem. I enjoy it, and I'm also more than a little curious now as to what happened to Edward Brenner since you’re looking into him as well.”
Shaw got up to leave. "When can we meet again? For research that is.”
Annie studied Shaw for a moment trying to decide about him. He didn't seem like a threat and his interest in Edward Brenner was genuine. He was still a complete stranger, though. But he had a way about him, his manner made her feel safe. She couldn't explain it. She also liked the look of him, a lot. Slim pickings in Erin’s Bay and a girl’s gotta eat. “Do you have a car?"
"I borrowed Abigail Brenner’s."
Annie shook her head in wonderment then gave Shaw directions to her place. “Aren’t you going to write them down?” Annie asked.
“No need. I’m good with faces and places,” Shaw replied.