Authors: Beverly Connor
“Hope Foute’s sister? Yes. But . . .”
“Seeing the sign at the Baptist Church, and Elder Moore again today, made a series of pieces suddenly fall into place.”
“What pieces?” asked Drew, unwilling to believe.
“First, the poem,
‘Buried well, by the gate to hell.’
Helget Pond—It’s the way I heard Adam say the words earlier. It sounded like he said
Hell Gate
Pond. Hell’s Gate . . . the gate to hell. The pond has no bottom, according to local legend. Treacherous or unfathomable terrain is often named after the devil. It was probably originally named Hell’s Gate Pond, but the name has become corrupted over the years.”
“So, you think the poem is talking about the coffin being buried by Helget Pond?” Marina said. “Cool. It works for me.”
“Once I made the connection—however tenuous—between the coffin, the pond, and the poem, then my mind made other connections with the poems. I remembered seeing 1 Corinthians 13:13 on the church sign about faith, hope, and charity. It clicked.”
“What clicked?” Adam asked.
“We know that two sisters in the Redmond family were named Faith and Hope—I reasoned that there was a third, the oldest—
‘the greatest of these is Charity.
’”
“That’s a leap,” said Drew. “There’s no evidence of a third sister. And, why Charity? Where did that come from?”
“First, it was not uncommon at all for people to take names from the Bible. So, if there were two sisters named Faith and Hope, it’s not at all unreasonable that a third sister, if she existed, might be named Charity.”
“That’s it?” asked Drew.
“No, that’s not all. Remember the poem,
‘Cherry’s gone a looking, not at home a cooking.’
Cherry is a nickname for Charity.”
“I love it,” said Lewis.
“We know the farm was in the family. The Gallowses bought it from Clarence Foute—Hope’s husband, so that fits, too. That’s how I arrived at it. As I said, it’s tenuous.”
“Tenuous is right,” said Drew.
“We’ll see when it’s opened up,” said Adam. “It has to be a young female, right? Why young, by the way?”
“Because the poet seemed to be speaking about a young person. That was just my feel of it.”
“It does make a kind of sense,” said Joel. “Lindsay’s right about the trash pit not being a place where a person would be buried. From the sound of those couplets, whoever is buried there was out of someone’s good graces.”
“Do you think the
he
in the poem refers to the person buried in the cemetery?” asked Erin.
“No way to tell,” said Adam. “Unless Lindsay comes up with another remote association.”
“Remote is right,” said Drew. “I think they want to speak with us.” She motioned toward the science team and took Lewis’s arm.
“Would you tell them I’ll be there in just a second? Thanks.”
Drew dropped her arms to her side and walked over to Jarman and the others. Lewis watched her for a moment, then directed his attention to Lindsay.
“I didn’t want to mention this in front of Drew. She seems to be on edge,” Lewis began.
It was a bad sign for Drew. She was principal investigator, and Lewis was taking her out of the loop. Lindsay wondered why.
“The geologist voiced a concern that we haven’t actually uncovered the second coffin. He wasn’t overly concerned. He just had a question.”
“What’s his concern? That there may be only one?” asked Lindsay.
“Yes.”
“I suppose that’s a possibility, but I believe it’s there. Why does he doubt it?”
“There appear to be no other graves in the cemetery. They’re questioning whether it is a cemetery, and that perhaps the coffin in the pit is a throwaway.”
“Something metal and the size of the coffin is buried in the cemetery according to the metal detector survey and the radar,” said Adam. “Besides, we’re the archaeologists. If we say it’s a cemetery, it’s a cemetery.”
“Right now, that will have no effect on how we proceed, will it?” asked Lindsay.
“No. I just want to give them some assurance that they aren’t wasting their time and resources,” Lewis said.
“Tell them you have my assurance. Just leave out the part where I recently lost my mind.”
A broad smile spread across Lewis’s face, then he laughed. “I will reassure them.” He turned to Adam. “And I will also reassure them that we do know what we’re doing out here. Which brings me to the next thing I need to tell you. Adam, Byron, and Dillon will be excavating the coffin in Feature 2. Joel, Sharon, and Powell will excavate the one in Feature 3. Adam and Joel head the teams. I’m sorry I can’t put everyone on it, but I’m going with experience. We’ll be ready to excavate tomorrow.” He left to join Jarman and Drew.
“What’s up with Drew?” asked Adam.
“Her husband is coming up,” said Marina. “It’s probably that lawsuit thing.”
“Has anyone heard from Claire?” asked Lindsay.
“No, and good riddance,” said Joel.
“I agree,” said Kelsey. “You notice how much nicer things are now?”
“But it’s strange that she just left without telling anyone,” persisted Lindsay.
“Not really,” said Adam. “If she’s not in control, she doesn’t want to be involved.”
A week ago Lindsay might have agreed. But lately, she really thought that Claire might be content just to have the title of Site Director at a site with an important find. That is, until the last couple of days before she disappeared. During those couple of days, there had been something different in her demeanor, but Lindsay had been so absorbed in her own problems she didn’t pay enough attention to know what.
“I need to make a phone call. If Lewis wants anything, tell him I’ll be right back.”
“Sure. We’ll be sitting here watching,” said Powell.
Lindsay walked across the site, skirting around workers who were beginning erection of a fence around the compound. Briefly, she thought about seeing if there was room for her inside the fence, where it would be safe. When she arrived at the house, a couple of trucks were parked around the side. She hadn’t noticed them arrive. Inside the house she got a whiff of the aroma of food.
Mrs. Laurens’ relatives helping out,
Lindsay thought. She went to the living room and dialed Derrick’s office number. She got lucky. He was in.
“Derrick, Lindsay here.”
“Lindsay. How are you? Good to hear from you. I understand you have quite a find down there.”
“The military and a team of scientists are here setting up. You should see it.”
“When will you be able to analyze the bones?”
“Probably day after tomorrow. I’m not sure exactly what all is going to be done. I have a question.”
“Sure.”
“I found an impression in the dirt floor of the basement and made a cast of it. Actually, I used rubber molding compound, the kind you get in a craft store. The thing is exactly one inch square. It has very sharp corners and edges. I put ink on it and stamped the design on a piece of paper. Although it’s not real clear, it looks kind of like Chessie . . . the logo for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad.”
Lindsay could hear Derrick laughing. “Okay, I’ll put aside for a minute what you were doing in the basement examining the dirt. Essentially, you made a rubber stamp, right?”
“Right. It looks like someone dropped whatever this was and stepped on it, pushing it into the dirt. There was a footprint over it.”
“It sounds like a photo-engraved block.”
“What’s that?”
“It was used for printing newspapers. Engraved blocks were put into a chase—which is a frame for locking in place the blocks and type that made up the layout for a page of newspaper. The blocks would have pictures, advertisements, logos . . . stuff like that on them. The one you’re describing sounds like a logo. Often they would be copper plated. It’s a collector’s item now. Does that help?”
“A lot.”
“Should I ask what this is about?”
“Do you want to know the answer?”
“Are you all right? Really all right?”
“I don’t know, Derrick. I’ve had hallucinations and I’ve been threatened. I think whoever did this to me is still after me, and I’m frightened all the time.”
For several seconds, Derrick didn’t say anything. “Lindsay, do you want me to come down there?”
“I’ve got a yard full of soldiers right now. Lewis is here, and John sent his cousin Luke. When I’m finished analyzing the bones in the lead coffins, I think I’ll go home.”
“What were you doing in the basement?”
“I have reason to believe that what happened to me is connected to this place. I think the attack on me was to stop me from coming here. One of the crew has disappeared, and I was looking for her, or some trace of her, when I found signs of activity in the basement.”
“What! Someone has disappeared? I hadn’t heard about that. Is it in the papers?”
“No one believes it’s a problem but me. Most everyone thinks she ran away. But I don’t.”
“Have you talked to the authorities there?”
“Yes, and the sheriff believes me. He’s as helpful as he can be.”
“Does John know how serious this is?”
“He will soon. I told Luke, and Luke will tell him.”
“Keep in touch, Lindsay. If you need me, I’ll come down.”
“Thanks, Derrick. Thanks for asking.”
Lindsay hung up the phone and sat for several moments on the cane chair. It felt good to have told Derrick. It felt good that he wanted to come down. Whatever had happened to their romance, she always wanted him as a friend. She rose and started out the door and almost ran into a man in the hallway whom she had not met, but knew immediately who he was.
Chapter 29
Planting Pennies
“YOU MUST BE Drew’s husband.”
The man seemed to bristle, or perhaps he was already agitated. Had he overheard anything? Did it mean anything to him? Was he involved?
Documents are missing. He’s a document collector. There has to be a connection
. If Lindsay telegraphed her thoughts to him, he didn’t show it.
“I’m Eric Van Horn. And you are?”
Eric Van Horne’s hair was blond, like his wife’s, and his eyes were such a light blue they didn’t seem real. What Lindsay disliked about his face were his lips. They had an unsympathetic twist to them. She wondered how he did with jurors. He spoke as if he were dressed in a three-piece suit and had just caught her in his office. Perhaps she thought of him that way because she knew he was a lawyer. In fact, he was wearing tan slacks and a polo shirt, and he was not in his office. He was there to snoop—at least that was her fear.
“I’m Lindsay Chamberlain. I believe we spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, I believe so.” He was about an inch shorter than her, so he couldn’t look down at her, though she got the impression he would have liked to. “I’m looking for Drew.”
“She’s at the site. You passed it on the way in.”
“I thought perhaps she would be knocking off about now.” He looked at his watch with some impatience.
“We’re not on our normal schedule. We have a team of scientists setting up to run some tests. Did Drew tell you about them?”
“Yes, some nonsense about lead coffins.”
“You aren’t a fan of archaeology?”
“A fan?” He must have noticed that he was being rude, for he attempted a smile. “No, not really. But I do like history, and I understand this is a rather historic find.”
“Yes, it is. You can come to the site and take a look, or you can wait here. Mrs. Laurens usually has some tea made. Would you like some?”
“Tea? No, thank you. I think I’ll go down to the site and see what all the fuss is about.”
As they walked out together, Lindsay felt a sudden relief. If he was here, then Drew would be staying with him at his motel. She would have her room to herself. She was suddenly glad to have him here.
They said little to each other on the way down to the site, banal prattle about how the site looked like a circus with all the big tents. The security fence now completely surrounded the tent city, and Lindsay had to get Lewis’s attention to be allowed past the guard. After Lewis introduced Lindsay to the guard and gave her an ID pass, he led the two of them inside.
“This is Drew’s husband, Eric Van Horne.”
Drew looked up from a diagram she had been studying and seemed relieved to see him. Lindsay was surprised, but had no idea why she thought Drew wouldn’t be pleased. He kissed her cheek, and Drew began explaining what they were doing.
“Looks like they’re making quite a bit of progress,” Lindsay told Lewis.
“We’ll start excavating bright and early in the morning.” Lewis guided Lindsay away from Drew and her husband toward the examination trailer.
“I thought you might like to see the facilities.”
He took her inside. It looked like an autopsy room.
“Fancy,” Lindsay said.
“All the best equipment.”
She picked up a new hinged caliper and turned it over in her hand.
“Hey. Don’t touch anything.” Lindsay recognized the speaker as Peter Willis. “Dr. Lewis . . .” He put his spread hands out in front of him, as if trying to stop something. “Please, don’t touch anything. We’ll give everyone a tour when we’ve completely set up, but right now, please . . .”
Lindsay put the caliper down on the metal table. “We understand,” she said, smiling.
Lewis folded his arms across his chest and started to speak. Lindsay threaded her arm through his and led him out of the tent.
“Peter’s a little cocky. He’s already gotten Adam and Powell angry enough to strangle him.”
“And you as well, from the looks of it. How are the others? They cocky, too?”
“No. This guy Peter is really counting on getting a good sample of air, and he’s a little on edge. You know how graduate students are. They can be very intense. It seems, even with the best of circumstances, the chances of getting uncontaminated air are not very great.”
“So, I imagine the idea that there might be only one coffin instead of two was not a welcome one.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Has Drew given you a hint as to what’s up with her?”
“No. I didn’t want to say this in front of the others, but the doubt about there being a second coffin came from her.”