Scandal in the Secret City (9 page)

I walked past a temporary monument to our usual living conditions, a stuck car with its rear wheels mired in the frozen mud halfway up its hubcaps, the newest victim of the numerous potholes on the dirt and gravel road. Strolling through my community of flattops, I was surprised to see that there were dozens more of them erected since I’d moved in a week ago, although most of them still looked empty. They were bound to fill up quickly after the holiday. The sun had already started melting the thin coat of ice on the boardwalk. Where it warmed the bare wood, I could smell the scent of fresh sawn lumber still wafting up beneath each of my steps inspiring a feeling of kinship with the pioneers who headed west and built towns out of the wilderness. They, too, had sniffed that newness in the air, lived with the rawness, the mud and the downed trees of a new world being born. They coped with isolation and deprivation. The early settlers, though, did it without bulldozers, cranes and graders, without electricity or running water, without the government aid to meet their immediate needs. They did it all with their bare hands and a spirit of community.

Much of that same spirit lived here in this new outpost. Like the frontiersman of old we, too, struggled for survival. We didn’t battle with the day-to-day, hand-to mouth challenges that they did but we were in a battle for a way of life. If we did not stop Hitler in Europe, how long before he goose-stepped across the Atlantic? With their ally Japan applying pressure on the west coast, how long could we withstand the onslaught? How long would it be before the heel of oppression flattened our whole continent?

My dark thoughts were weighing too heavy on this special day. I shook them away and focused on my immediate surroundings. Ice glistened like tiaras on the branches overhead, icicles hung from the eaves of houses like icing dripping down the sides of a glazed cake, the spikes of frozen dirt rising up from potholes looked like jagged, forbidding mountains in a horrid nightmare.

Even the sounds of the place seemed enchanted on this day – the plink of melting ice falling to the ground like a gentle rain, the loud crack and rumble as warmed chunks of ice broke their grip on trees and buildings and plummeted to the earth below, the distant squeals of children at play. I moved toward the voices, walking into the area of the larger cemesto homes. The size of the home you were assigned was based solely on the number of people in your family, creating a diverse neighborhood where PhD scientists lived side by side with carpenters and other tradesmen. Not something you’d see in the regular world.

It was here I saw the first signs of human life this day – children bouncing balls, riding bicycles and tricycles or simply running aimlessly through each other’s yards. Although Santa Claus had provided them all with a lean year and parents had all seemed troubled by the restrictions due to rationing and inadequate supplies that meant fewer gifts under the tree, the kids didn’t seem to care. Doing without didn’t seem so bad when everyone else was just like you. And the older children seemed to embrace the spartan situation with patriotic fervor.

I walked past Ann Bishop’s house on Magnolia Road. Closing my eyes, I could remember the smells and tastes of the turkey, stuffing, gravy and pumpkin pie I had enjoyed the month before. Now, though, the house was dark – Ann and her family had travelled to her grandmother’s home in Nashville for the Christmas weekend.

At the shopping center, I peered into shop windows, blocking the light on either side of my eyes with curved hands. The shelves in the drug store looked sparse. In the market, the ‘no meat today’ sign still hung on the counter. Hunger pangs hit me then as I thought of the magnificent break from canned salmon and spam I had waiting at home. A small meatloaf made by Mrs Bishop – meat that Ann’s mother could have used for her own family and yet she gave it to me as if it were no big deal.

Although Ann and I had little in common she, like Ruth, had become a good friend. Ann couldn’t wait until the war was over and she could stop working, get married and have babies. For now, I couldn’t imagine that life for myself. After the war, though, would I feel differently?

Would the global conflict ever be over? Would the work that we were doing really make a difference? And if it did, would it change the world into an unrecognizable place? A place where marriage and children weren’t the normal condition of women?

I was so deep in thought, I started at the realization that I’d returned to my street without realizing it. And there was my little flattop with its flat roof, squatting like a toadstool on the rise. It was plain and square but it was a beautiful sight. I couldn’t wait to see how nice it would look in the spring when flowers were blooming and the trees crowned with green.

The thought of warmer weather to come made me shiver and quicken my pace. I had a coal stove to tend and a new book to start reading before it was time to heat up my Christmas dinner.

‘A woman is like a tea bag: you never know how strong it is until it’s in hot water.’

Eleanor Roosevelt

I
was glad that Monday’s work in the lab didn’t require any deep theoretical thought. I kept busy at the scales and on the mass spectrometer, weighing, extrapolating and analyzing data – making heavy use of the left hemisphere of my brain, skirting away from the store of the emotional issues that dominated the day before.

At lunchtime, I rushed to the hospital to see Ruth. The guard was still there but he no longer blocked the entrance. He sat in a chair by the open door and nodded when I walked past. Ruth was groggy and nothing she said made a lot of sense.

She asked, ‘Did Irene make it home?’

I patted the back of her hand. How many sedatives had they pumped into her? ‘Don’t you worry about Irene right now, Ruthie. We just need to get you home first.’

Ruth drifted off and when her eyes popped back open, she asked again, ‘Did Irene make it home last night?’

‘Sleep, Ruthie. I have to get back to work now. But don’t you worry about a thing.’ I stopped at the nurse’s station on the way out to ask about Ruth’s prognosis and was told, ‘We have no more orders for sedatives from the doctor.’

‘Could I take her home after work?’

‘I’ll find out from the doctor, but as long as she won’t be alone tonight, it’ll probably be all right. We’ll let you know what the doctor says when you come back.’

Walking to the hospital at the end of the work day, I was tired but satisfied with what I’d accomplished in the lab. I’d made good use of my time even though the production line was still shut down. I was worried about Ruth and hoped she remembered the tragic events about Irene now.

I stopped at the nurse’s station and received the go ahead to take Ruth home. The guard was gone now and Ruth was sitting on the edge of the bed in her street clothes. She looked alert but was still very pale.

‘I didn’t think you’d ever get here, Libby. They told me you’d be comin’ by for me two hours ago and I’ve been edgy ever since. Nobody will tell me nothin’ about Irene. I’ve gotta call Ma but I don’t know what to tell her.’

‘Let’s get out of here first. Then we’ll try to figure it all out.’

Outside of the hospital, Ruth said, ‘Thanks, Libby. I can make it back to the dorm by myself.’

‘I’m sure you can. But we are going to the dormitory together to get your things.’

‘Get my things?’

‘Yes, you’re coming over to stay at my place.’

‘But what if someone comes with news about Irene? I need to be there for her.’

I doubted that anyone would bother, but bit my tongue. No sense in being more pessimistic than necessary. ‘We’ll leave a note.’

‘I don’t know, Libby.’

‘I do. I know. The nurse said that you needed to stay with someone tonight.’

‘OK, Libby. You’re probably right. I’d just drive myself crazy in that place all alone,’ Ruth said.

Arriving at the dorm, we found the door of Ruth’s room hanging open. The linens on both beds were disheveled. Drawers looked hastily shoved closed but not completely shut.

‘She’s been here,’ Ruth said. ‘Irene’s been here. Look at the mess she made.’ Ruth looked under her bed. ‘And she took my Jack Daniels, too.’

I so wished that was true but I couldn’t let that falsehood stand. I owed Ruth honesty. ‘The police took your bottle and they searched your room. It wasn’t Irene. We saw Irene under the bleachers – remember?’

Ruth’s shoulders slumped. ‘I guess I just wanted to forget …’

‘I know,’ I said, feeling a sympathetic lump of pain in my throat.

‘Why did the police search my room? Will I be in trouble for the Jack Daniels? Why did they have to make such a mess?’

‘Just grab a bag and throw together the things you’ll need. And I’ll make the beds, OK?’ I finished with the beds, then pulled a piece of paper out of the desk and wrote a note. ‘To whom it may concern: Ruth Nance is staying with Elizabeth Clark at 384 East Drive.’

‘Look OK to you?’

Ruth nodded her approval and I stuck it between the door and frame as we left. On the boardwalk, I asked, ‘What happened after I left you at the bleachers?’

‘First a police officer came and told me I had to get out of there. I was just laying there next to Irene, holding her hand. I ignored him. Then he yelled at me saying he’d come in and get me if I didn’t get out of there right now. So, I did. Then he told me I had to go to the police station with him. And I said, “I will not. I’m not leaving my sister here on the ground.” Then, two jeeps full of soldiers pulled up. One of them was a colonel. And there was a guy in a suit who pulled up in another car. They told me to come with them. I told them I would as soon as my sister was seen to. Then it got really strange. The soldiers all lined up so I couldn’t see Irene and that man in a suit told me that Irene wasn’t there and I needed to go home.

‘Then I kinda went a little loco. I tried to get back to Irene but they wouldn’t let me. Then, I felt something stick in my arm and the next thing I remember, I was in the hospital bed. What’s going on, Libby?’

‘I don’t know, Ruthie. What did that man in a suit look like?’

‘He had a nice height and short hair,’ she said with a shrug.

‘Did he have blue eyes?’ I asked, thinking of the man I met in Captain Wilson’s office.

‘I don’t know if I noticed. Oh, wait a minute,’ she said stopping and closing her eyes. ‘Yes. Yes he did. I remember when he looked at me and told me Irene wasn’t there. His eyes were blue – not blue like Irene’s, not that soft, pretty blue – but a cold, icy blue that makes you feel like an ant.’

The rest of the way back to my flattop, we were quiet. I imagine Ruth was as lost in her thoughts as I was in my own. What should I do now? What and who should I believe? Were the police lying to me? Were soldiers moving bodies? Were there any other possibilities? Could the killer have returned and taken the body? But how could that be possible – Ruth would have seen him if he’d gotten there before the police and soldiers arrived. And I can’t quite imagine someone waltzing up and walking away with the body right under their noses. Police don’t move bodies. And they wouldn’t let anyone else do that. Not before investigating the scene. And they don’t find bodies and pretend they didn’t exist. Or do they? But why? Nothing made any sense.

The evening was tumultuous. Ruth alternated between sorrow and remorse, wondering what she should have done differently. I comforted her as well as I could. When she seemed calm enough to handle it, I pulled out the little blue fawn pin and asked, ‘Ever seen a pin like this before?’

Ruth gasped. ‘Where did you find that?’

‘In the athletic field.’

‘She was there. Irene was there. She got that for Christmas. She pinned it to her coat. This proves she was there. If we show it to them, they’ll have to admit it, won’t they?’

‘I don’t know. I just don’t know, Ruthie. Right now, I don’t know if giving it to them is a good idea. Once they have it, they can deny ever seeing it.’

Ruthie slumped in her chair, looking even more morose than she had before.

‘Hey, why don’t we see what’s on the radio,’ I said as I turned on the set. We tried to listen to a program but my thoughts kept drifting away from the story and, glancing over at Ruth, it didn’t seem as if she was able to concentrate on the storyline, either. When I finally turned the radio off, I couldn’t even remember which program had been airing.

I tucked Ruth into bed a little later. I didn’t expect to sleep well and, unfortunately, I was right. My slumber was haunted by chase scenes. Once I ran off a cliff, another time off the top of a building. Both dreams startled me awake in the middle of a fall. Before I realized they were figments of my mind, I’d felt a surge of bile in my throat as my hands desperately slapped out for purchase on the mattress. Each time, I had to stare at the ceiling for an hour or more before I could slip away from consciousness. Just two days ago, I could look down the road to the future and see nothing but sunny skies and happiness. Now I sensed a brewing storm and feared it would sweep in without warning and carry me away.

I
was out of eggs so we went down to the central cafeteria for breakfast the next morning. When we got back home, I perked a pot of coffee and we sat down in front of the coal stove.

‘I feel as if I am living in a nightmare – a long, dark, horrible nightmare. I don’t even know if I can trust my own eyes any longer,’ Ruth said. ‘We did see Irene under the bleachers, didn’t we?’

‘Yes, Ruthie, we did.’

‘But where did she go?’

‘I wish I knew.’

‘If she was there, what did they do with her? And why would they lie about it, Libby?’

‘I don’t know. But I do know she was there. And I do know someone moved her body.’

‘What if we were wrong, Libby? What if she got up and left as soon as I crawled out from under the bleachers? What if she snuck away? Who knows where she is now!’ Ruth jumped to her feet and paced the small room.

I had to remain calm, for Ruth’s sake, if not my own. Ruth was right about one thing: this was a total nightmare. I placed a hand on each of Ruth’s upper arms, and said, ‘Ruthie, please. I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell you that there was a chance that Irene was alive. But that would just be delaying your pain. You have to accept it and move forward. I know it’s hard.’

Ruth lifted her chin and looked straight into my eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re not as confused as I am?’

‘I am confused, Ruthie. I’ve never been more confused in my life. But I know that Irene was murdered. The signs were evident. And I know I can trust what I saw – what
we
saw. I know you don’t
want
to believe it, but that doesn’t make it any less true.’

Ruth stepped back and slumped into the chair. ‘You’re right, Libby. I don’t want to believe Irene is gone. My mind keeps trying to come up with a way to make it not true.’

‘It’s a natural reaction, Ruthie.’

‘I’ve only seen one other dead person before. It was my grandmother. I went in one morning to bring her a cup of tea – and there she was in bed. It was like her life just faded away. It seemed nice, peaceful. But Irene …’ Ruth doubled over, sobbing.

‘I am so sorry,’ I said, patting her back before retrieving my coffee cup and returning to the opposite chair. ‘Any time you want to talk about Irene, I’m here. Or anything. You can talk to me about anything. And it all stays right here with me.’

‘Oh I know you can keep a secret,’ Ruth said, laughing weakly. ‘We’ve all been trained to do that. Who knew you could get this many women together in one place and still keep a secret?’ Ruth sniffled and forced a smile.

‘We all do that every day now, don’t we?’ I said, plastering a smile on my face.

We settled back in uneasy silence. After a few minutes, Ruth said, ‘Thank you, Libby.’

‘You think nothing of it, Ruthie. I’m your friend now and always. We best be getting to work. Your shift starts in ten minutes.’

When I pulled the door open, I gasped. A uniformed soldier stood on my stoop, one fist raised up in front of his face as if he were about to knock.

Without any greeting or introduction, he blurted, ‘I’m here for Miss Nance. Miss Ruth Nance.’

‘Miss Nance is here. But we’re running a little late for work.’

‘I’m just here to pick up Miss Nance and take her to the police station.’

Ruth’s face turned ashen and her hands trembled. ‘What is it? Did you find my sister?’

‘I don’t know anything about your sister, miss. I was just told to transport you to the police station.’

‘Libby, come with me,’ Ruth pleaded, her eyes rimmed with tears.

‘Of course, Ruthie.’

At the police station, we sat in chairs by the front desk. I asked to use the phone and called Charlie to let him know that I was involved in a serious personal problem and I’d be in as soon as I could. I was relieved that he didn’t press me for more information because I didn’t know what I was allowed to say about the situation.

Finally, we were ushered back into the captain’s office. ‘Please have a seat,’ he said gesturing first to one chair, then the other. ‘I have some bad news, Miss Nance. Your sister’s body has been found.’

Ruth wailed, doubled over in the middle and placed her face in her hands. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and handed her a handkerchief. Ruth sobbed, rocking back and forth in her seat.

‘Where did you find her?’ I asked.

‘Well, we didn’t, actually. The Knox County sheriff’s office did. The deputy here will take you to Knoxville to identify the body.’

Looking up, I noticed a man in a brown uniform standing in the corner. He nodded at me and said, ‘A couple of boys fishing this morning found her body on the riverbank, not far from the Solway Bridge.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, then turned to Captain Wilson. ‘Are you and the sheriff’s department going to work together to figure out how her body got from the bleachers to the riverbank?’

‘Ma’am, as I told you before, there was no body at the bleachers. There was no body found inside of the gates. The body was found outside of our area in Knox County. No crime happened here. It is not our case.’

‘So you’re going to do nothing?’

‘It’s not in our jurisdiction.’

‘Liar!’ Ruth shrieked.

I knew he was lying, too, but I didn’t want to alienate the deputy so I kept my mouth shut. I stared at Wilson and willed him to read my mind. He wouldn’t even look at me though, and I was sure if he did, I’d see shame in his eyes.

The man with the cold, blue eyes stepped into the office. ‘Is there a problem here, captain?’

‘Miss Nance is just a bit upset,’ he said.

‘Upset. You bet I’m upset. He’s lying to me. You lied to me. You’re all lying,’ she said flaying her arms about wildly. ‘Whaddya think? I’m a German spy or an agent for Hirohito?’

‘I suggest that you calm down right now, Miss Nance,’ the man said. ‘We have some patience with grieving family members but it is not limitless.’

Ruth spluttered but before she could say anything further, I wrapped an arm around her again, ‘C’mon, honey, let’s go get this over with.’

During the drive, I comforted her as best I could and tried to prepare her for the ordeal ahead. ‘Do you understand what we’re going to do?’ I asked.

‘Maybe it’s not Irene.’

I didn’t know what to say to that. Mistakes do happen. What if it was some other person? Would it mean they may never find Irene? ‘Deputy?’ I said.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘How did you know it was Irene?’

‘Can’t say I did, miss. They gave me an envelope, said it had her identification badge in it and sent me out to your police department to find someone to identify the body. I didn’t know she had family here. I’m sorry I had to do this.’

‘Were you out to the spot where they found the body?’

‘No, miss.’

‘Do you know what they found?’

‘No, miss.’

‘Did you know that Miss Nance and I found the body yesterday morning by the high school?’

‘Miss, I’m just a lowly deputy – newest one in the department. They’ve told me I have no need to know so many times, I’m beginning to think it’s my name. They don’t tell me anything about any investigations. They just tell me what to do and I do it.’

Seeing his eyes in the rear-view mirror, it seemed as if he was telling the truth. ‘Deputy, will the sheriff be there when we arrive?’

‘I doubt it, ma’am. He doesn’t spend a lot of time in the office.’

I turned back to Ruth. ‘Listen, when we get there, you grab hold of my hand and you just squeeze as hard as you want.’

Ruth nodded and leaned on my shoulder. I felt slight tremors rocking her body while she cried.

We followed the deputy into the morgue. It seemed with every step, Ruth got more wobbly. I gripped her harder, praying she wouldn’t pass out. The smell in the air in the morgue wasn’t helping – a swirling odor of antiseptic and underlying rot that made me feel light-headed and nauseous. I imagined its impact was even worse on Ruth. I stifled a gasp at the sight of a series of tables bearing sheet-draped shapes that I didn’t want to believe were bodies.

The deputy directed us towards the closest one. A man in surgical scrubs, quietly and gently pulled down a sheet, taking care not to uncover Irene’s throat. Either the scarf was still there or he didn’t want to reveal the angry welt left in its place.

I eased Ruth up to the table, glad to see someone had shut Irene’s eyes. An intense surge of pain blasted up my arm as she nearly crushed my hand. Ruth emitted a shrill shriek that sounded more animal than human as it reverberated in the utilitarian room. I winced as I tightened my grip on Ruth. I struggled to push the rising images of my father, brother and cousin’s charcoaled bodies out of my mind. I could not allow myself the distraction – Ruth needed me.

She fell forward, wrapping her arms across her sister, laying her warm cheek next to the cold one. I gave her a moment and then tugged on her shoulders. ‘C’mon, honey, c’mon. Let’s get out of here, OK.’

‘But Irene, Irene …’

‘I know, Ruthie, I know. Let’s go. We need to call your family.’

Outside of the morgue, the deputy helped us find a phone in one of the offices in the sheriff’s side of the building. Ruth said, ‘Hello, Ma …’

While she talked, I pulled the deputy to the side. ‘I want to speak to an investigator.’

‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t do that. I was given strict orders. Pick you up and take you straight back. No detours. In fact, I might get into trouble for letting her make this call.’

‘Well, why don’t you take Miss Nance back and I’ll just stick around in town.’

‘No, ma’am, I can’t allow that. I was told to bring you back – both of you – and under no circumstances …’

I waved him off as Ruth set down the receiver and rushed back to her side.

‘Oh, Libby, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my whole life. Ma was heartbroken.’ Ruth put her hand over her mouth and made a choking sound. ‘I talked to my brother Hank, too. He enlisted when he turned eighteen this month, but doesn’t report for another week. So he can drive up here to get me to take me back for the funeral,’ Ruth said, her voice cracking on that last word. ‘Funeral. It’s such an ugly word. So final. So ugly. I just wanna die.’

Back at my house, I made sure Ruth had everything she needed before I left for the lab for the rest of the day. I returned home late and we sat up until well past midnight. We slowly nibbled away at the rest of the Fifth Avenue candy bar, trying to figure out what to do next. I had to keep working, even though Ruth would not be expected to report for duty under the circumstances. She’d meet her brother at the gate with a pass when he arrived the next day. Then, Ruth and Hank would go talk to a security officer about the problem with the police.

‘Ruth, I was wondering, do you think Irene’s boyfriend could have been a local?’

‘I don’t know. She said he was a scientist – an important one – but I guess he could have been born here. Does it matter?’

‘It might. I don’t know, either. But you know how much some of the locals hate all of us. Did Irene ever go outside the gates?’

‘Most Monday nights she took the bus into Knoxville to shop. Other than that, I don’t think she went outside till we went home for Christmas. I think I would have known if she had. She would’ve told me.’ Ruth’s brow furrowed and her mouth twisted at an odd angle.

‘Just trying to make sense of it, Ruthie. Don’t mind me. It all puzzles me so. Nothing is making sense – and I don’t like that.’

‘That’s the scientist talking, Libby. And I know that science stuff is important to you but it’s the friend in you that I’ll never forget. I couldn’t have made it through all this without you by my side.’

‘You’d have done the same for me, Ruthie.’

‘I sure would like to think so,’ she said with a rueful smile. ‘I’ll probably be gone before you get back from work, Libby. But I’ll leave you a note about what happened.’

‘And, please, Ruthie, let me know what I can do while you are away. If you have any problems when you and your brother talk to security, let them know where to find me.’

‘Are you sure you want to stay all mixed up in this?’

‘You try and stop me.’