The Case Of The Missing Bride - Robert F. Clifton (red novels .txt) 📗
- Author: Robert F. Clifton
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“That's fine. Actually, you doing this saves us a lot of money. We've been wanting to do this for years. Thank you”.
“Don't thank me. Thank Red's Morton. He's the guy paying the bills. Clearing the land cost two thousand and the company using the Ground Penetrating Radar is costing another fifteen hundred, but hey, this is his idea”.
“Still, the White Estate is a preserved, historical site. I'm afraid that the mansion is in bad shape. The hurricane of 1944 caused a lot of damage.
We managed to save much of the furnishings and placed them in the museum warehouse for safe keeping. We hope that someday with proper financing we will be able to refurbish the mansion and put it back in the condition it was at the time the White's lived there.”
“Good luck with that Boo. We both know that the general population of the Beach are a bunch of cheapskates. The people here don't support anything. Sports teams, opera, symphony orchestra's, plays and musical theater have all failed because no one in this town will attend, unless they can get in free. I'm sorry, but it appears to me that you and your historical society have a long wait for the funding you need”.
“You could be right. Nonetheless, I have to sit back and hope. If you don't mind telling me, how does this radar thing work?”, asked Boo Kaplan.
“It's really very simple to understand. Radar pulses are transmitted down, through the ground surface and the reflected signals can detect objects, changes in material and voids and cracks. So essentially what we're looking for is an object, such as the skeleton of a human body, or signs of a grave whether it's a shallow or deep burial site”, said Wallace.
“Interesting, but you do know that on the night Partheana disappeared the guests at the wedding reception searched the grounds looking for her. It's pretty hard to imagine that if she was murdered the killer or killer would have had enough time to bury her”, said Kaplan.
“I agree, still there is a possibility that she was murdered and the body was hidden and buried later”.
“Do you think that's what happened?”, asked Boo.
“I don't know what to think at this time. Right now I'm looking at all of the possibilities and attempting to prove or disprove the many theories that have been suggested over the years”, Wallace replied.
“Well you're lucky. The original estate sat on twenty acres, but when real estate sales took off the White's sold most of the land. They kept just one acre, back here near the bay”, Kaplan replied.
“Why did the city allow the place to run down?,”asked Wallace.
“It was a combination of many things. Disinterest by the politicians, budget problems and a population that detaches itself from supporting anything historical in this town. In order to run the museum I have to go to the city commission with my hat in hand and beg for funds to keep it open.
Many times I paid the electric bill out of my own pocket. So, when it comes to operating the Nautilus Beach Historical Museum or paying to have the White's Mansion saved and refurbished right now the museum comes first. At least with the museum I do get donations from out of town visitors”.
“Is the estate really worth saving?”,asked Wallace.
“There again. It depends on who you ask. Ask me and I'll tell you yes. But, then again it deals with my livelihood. At the same time if the mansion was demolished and the grounds sold and built upon, you couldn't investigate the case of Partheana White, could you?”
“I've been asking myself just why I'm investigating this case at all. As far as I know and I've gone back as far as I can in researching our records, Partheana White is still a missing persons case”, said Wallace.
“Well, maybe you will be able to find something that can solve the town's local mystery one way or another. Meanwhile, if it's alright with you, I'd like to go down there near the bay where they're piling the grass and shrubs. I'm hoping that the bulldozers might dig up some artifacts”, said Kaplan.
“Go right ahead, just be careful”, Wallace replied, speaking loudly over the sound of the bulldozer as it passed by.
*****************
Wallace arrived home at about five P.M. He entered the house and as usual looked towards the combination office and den that he and Mary shared. It was there that Mary worked daily writing magazine articles. When she saw him she smiled and said, “Well, how did it go? Did you find anything?”
“If you call the ancient remains of a possum anything then the answer is yes. If you're asking if I found anything related to Partheana White, then the answer is no.”
“Did you really think that her body was buried there on the estate?”
“No, not really, but I had to look, examine the possibility. Looking on the bright side, I eliminated that theory”.
“Then, what's you next plan?”, asked Mary.
“Right now I have no plan. I was going to search inside the mansion, but Boo Kaplan told me that the place is run down and rotting away. It seems there was a lot of damage caused by the 1944 hurricane”.
“What else did Boo have to say?”, asked Mary.
“Nothing much. He did say that everything that was in the mansion had been removed and is in the Historical Society warehouse”.
Mary got up from the desk and walked into the living room. She looked at her husband then said, “It seems to me that if you want information on a case that goes back over a hundred years you will need help from someone who knows the history of the Beach. Why don't you ask Boo to work with you?”
Chapter Four
Partners
Sidney Kaplan sat across from Robert Wallace in the Captains office. “So this is where Wallace the Great works. Seems like an ordinary office to me”, said Kaplan.
“The title Wallace the Great comes from a news reporter that has a dislike for me. However, the truth is that my wife thinks I'm great. She refers to me as a “Great Pain In The Ass.” So it seems, as much as I hate to admit it, the reporter is right”, Wallace replied.
Kaplan smiled. “O.K. why am I here?”, he asked.
“Actually, it's my wife's idea. She thinks that if you and I team up together we might be able to solve the question of what happened to Partheana White”, said Wallace.
“Me? I don't know anything about police work or investigations. I'm a historian and a limited one at that. My background is primarily the history of Nautilus Beach. To tell you the truth I know about as much as you do about what happened to Partheana”, Kaplan replied.
“How about this. I'll supply the police work, the investigation, the forensics and the leg work. At the same time you supply the history and the artifacts”.
“What artifacts?”
“I don't know. That's for you to think about, to study and to find. Look at anything and everything. Search for letters, diaries. journals, photographs, anything that might give us some direction. The way I see it Boo, that if we solve this mystery your museum will benefit and prosper”, said Robert.
“How so?”
“Mary has been in touch with Gus Hanson, the editor of the Nautilus Beach Press. If you and I team up she'll write an article about our search. Hopefully, this will do two things. One, the general public that might know something about our gal Partheana might come forward and give us some information and two, hopefully create enough curiosity that people will want to visit your museum”.
“I could use the publicity. Advertising has been out of the question for sometime. Alright, you're the investigator. Where do you want me to start?”, asked Kaplan.
“Boo, you're the curator and you know what you have. I'll leave it up to you”, said Wallace.
*****************
Two weeks went by before Wallace heard from Boo Kaplan. However, on a rainy Wednesday night both Mary and Robert were in the den. Mary was seated at her word processor working on a magazine article and Robert sat in his favorite chair, a leather covered recliner as he listened to music using his earphones. As a result of the earphones he didn't hear the doorbell ring. Mary got up and went to his chair and shook his shoulder. Surprised he opened his eyes, looked at her at he same time removing the phones. “What?”, he asked.
“Someone's at the door”, she answered, as she returned to the desk.
Wallace got up, shut off the phonograph and went to the front door. Opening it he found Boo Kaplan standing
on the portico some what damp from the rain.
“Boo? What's up? Do you have something?”, asked Wallace.
“Maybe yes, maybe no. you're the detective so I'll let you be the judge”, boo answered.
“Well, just don't stand there, come on in”, said Robert.
“Thanks, but I'm kinda wet”, Boo responded.
“Who is it?”, called Mary.
“Boo Kaplan and he says he's wet from the rain”, Wallace answered.
“Both of you go into the kitchen. I'll get you a towel Boo. Robert make a pot of coffee”, said Mary as she walked to the linen closet.
Wallace pointed to a chair. “Have a seat then tell me what brings you out here on a rain swept night”, he said.
“Thank you”, he said to Mary as she handed him a thick terry towel. After wiping his face he continued. “I was in the rear of the museum going over some items and I found two documents. Both of them are old. One is a letter, the other a telegram”.
“And, these are related to our mystery, I assume”, said Robert.
“Of course, why else would I be here?”, asked Kaplan.
“Naturally, O.K. what have you got?”, asked Wallace.
“I'll start with the telegram. Keep in mind that we're dealing with the eighteen hundreds. The telegraph is basically new at that time, so new that Western Union hadn't even been formed yet. What we have here is a telegram from Phineas Baker to Benjamin White. The message is dated July 18, 1863 and reads as follows: I am sad to inform you of the death of my son and your son-in-law Captain, William Baker stop. The War Department has informed us that William was killed at a place called Gettysburg, Pennsylvania stop. His remains will be sent to us here in Philadelphia stop. Further information in regards to funeral services will be sent when all plans are finalized stop. Regards Phineas Baker.
This telegram was sent by the Independent Telegraph Company, located at the time on Dock Street in Philadelphia”, said Boo as he placed the yellow, aged document on the kitchen table.
“So, William died just over a year after the wedding”, said Mary.
“Yes, but here is something else that's interesting. I found this letter written to Sally White. It's a letter of condolences from a Mrs. Harriet Bome of Philadelphia. Evidently Mr. and Mrs. Bome spent summer days at Nautilus Beach and the two women became friends. Anyway, here is what she had to say: My dear Sally,
There are no words that I can possibly say about the loss of your Partheana. At the same time I wish I were there to give you comfort.
I must at this time inform you of the rumor circulating both in New Jersey and Philadelphia that Partheana ran away from an arranged marriage. You and I both know this not to be true.
I am as familiar with William Baker as I am of Partheana and know positively that both he and she were deeply in love. In private conversation Partheana related to me how much she looked forward to marriage, being a wife and eventually, a mother.
It is being said, that William, despondent over Partheana's disappearance deliberately placed himself in
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