The Case of the Vanished Lover
a Stealthboxxer Mystery



Chapter 7



Davis McPhetridge Jr. was not at first glance a wealthy man but he
lived a fairly comfortable life on a small farm adjacent to the old
McCaw log depot. He had a decent sized 2 story farm house, cow barn,
grain silo, and several other outbuildings on the property including a
wooden pier that jutted out over the mud flats about 30 feet with a
wooden skiff tied to it. Outside the barn stood a state of the art
circa 1908 John Deer tractor on top of crushed oyster shells that
paved the driveways around the barn. There were many other fine pieces
of farm equipment too. Nothing on the McPhetridge farm was fairly new
but all of it was nothing less than the best that money could buy for
its time.

Davis Jr. showed me into his home and had me sit at his kitchen table.
He offered me a cup of coffee from a black pot on top of the GE
Electric range. The coffee was lukewarm, black, and bitter. I choked
it down while he went to retrieve something from a back room. He
returned a few minutes later with a small black metal box fitted with
a small padlock and set it on the table. "My father has been holding
onto this for over 20 years. He told me that it was very important
and that I should never even mention it let alone let anyone see it
unless I was sure that they were in no way connected to the McCaw
Company or the Geraldson Corporation."

"How do you know that I am not working for Geraldson now?"

"Why would anyone working for Geraldson be poking around their former
offices? Anyone who works for them wouldn't need to be hanging around
there since they tore down the place. Besides, I am a pretty good
judge of people, Mr. Stealthboxxer. Your fake business card didn't
have me fooled for a minute but I can tell from the way you talk that
you are telling the truth about being a PI and that you had
information about my father. I can just tell, can't explain it, just a
gut feeling I get."

"Well Mr. McPhetridge, I appreciate your confidence in me."

"Please, call me Davis."

"Alright, Davis it is then. Please call me SB."

"No problem, SB. Anyway, here is the story about this box. My father
was the engineer for McCaw's steam engine that brought logs out of the
Black Hills to the log dump here at Mud Bay for 20 years. He had very
good relationship with the president of the company, Sam McCaw.
However, Dad didn't get along with McCaw's Operations Manager,
Stanford Corbin. Dad always said that Corbin was a snake and a cheat
and was stealing money from the company but he couldn't prove it. He
also said that Corbin was doing something else behind McCaw's back.
Something that Corbin was going to a lot of trouble to keep secret
from McCaw and from just about everybody else."

"Did your father ever tell you what that was?"

"No. He said that he should not tell me for my own safety."

"Then your father knew what it was that Corbin was doing."

"Yes, he was sure of it. He told me that it was because of him knowing
what Corbin was doing that he had the accident."

"Accident?"

"Dad was run over by his own train in 1917. He was bringing a load of
logs down from Bordeaux at the end of the day and noticed a tree
fallen across the tracks on a stretch of straight track. He stopped
the train and got out with his bucksaw to move the deadfall. While he
was walking down the track toward the tree the brakes on the train
released and the engine rolled right over him. He lost his left leg
below the knee. Dad said that he was sure that Corbin had set it up
and had tried to kill him. Mr. McCaw was out of the area on a business
trip when it happened and died while on that trip so he never returned
to the company. Dad said that he had planned to tell Mr. McCaw about
his suspicions of Corbin but after McCaw died he decided to leave it
alone and just try to get on with his own life. He had bought this
land a couple years before the accident and had built the house. He
bought some milk cows and started a small dairy operation. I was just
19 and quit my job at the oyster farm up the bay to help him run the
farm. Mom died a few years later and Dad and I ran the farm together
until he died four years ago."

"What happened with Corbin? Wasn't your father afraid that Corbin
would try to kill him again after he left the company?"

"Corbin left right after news about McCaw's death. A new president
took over and not too long after that the McCaw logging company began
going downhill. Their operations got smaller and smaller with fewer
logs being cut and fewer employees working for them until they closed
up in '27."

"Any idea where Corbin went?"

"Dad had friends in the company that used to visit him from time to
time. They kept him up on company news and things. They told him that
Corbin had transferred to the Geraldson Corporation. He moved up to
Alaska where Geraldson had a mining operation going on. That's where
Mr. McCaw had been when he died. Dad used to say that Corbin was
Geraldson's hand picked mole in the McCaw Company and was put there to
do underhanded business behind Mr. McCaw's back."

"The mining connection again."

"Whats that?"

One boot in the mud, might as well jump in with both Buddy always
said. I had had a hunch about the McCaw operation since I had found
out about Geraldson's run of luck in the gold mining business. Seemed
as good a time as any to ask the question. "Davis, did your father
ever say anything about a gold mining operation going on in the Black
Hills that the McCaw Company was involved in?"

"Gold! In the Black Hills! Gee, SB, you really do your homework don't
you. Yes, Dad told me that Geraldson had originally setup the McCaw
Logging Company for a front to cover a gold mining operation going on
in the Black Hills. Dad had been sworn to secrecy about it when he
first hired on with them. It wasn't a large mine, played out after
about eight years. Dad said Geraldson's people did a pretty good job
of keeping it quiet too. By the time that the rumors got out about the
gold it was already played out and the mines were blasted closed. Dad
said that Geraldson had some top notch geologists, not prospectors
mind you but real university schooled science fellows who had found
the gold in the hills back in '92. They found three areas that held
gold and quickly setup mines there. Geraldson had secretly shipped in
mining equipment disguised as newfangled logging equipment. Dad said
that there was always some new equipment coming into the woods in
those days so it didn't cause any suspicion. They had three different
mines that they were operating back during its heyday and even a
makeshift refinery to process the ore. Dad said they had hollowed out
some large logs and used them to transport refined ore from the mine
down to the log dump. They hired some local miners from the coal mine
in Centralia under the pretense of cutting a railroad tunnel through a
hill for the logging operation. They paid the miners to not talk about
the gold mining operation. Dad was paid very well and got a large
bonus each year to keep quiet and help keep up the front of the
logging operation. That's how he was able to buy this place. Dad was
supposed to have a pension from the McCaw Company to take care of him
for his later years but Corbin made sure that Dad never saw one penny
of it. So Dad bought this place and all of the farm equipment to go
with it with the money he had saved during the mining days. He figured
it would set us up for a fairly comfortable life and it has. The
money is about gone but the dairy farm and oyster farming still make
enough money to keep me fed. I don't have a wife or family so I expect
that the farm is all I need."

"Sounds like your father was a very practical man. Reminds me of my
grandfather. Same generation, same ideals. My grandfather once said
that a man shouldn't ever get himself in a position where he doesn't
have to work for his living. He always said that an honest day's work
keeps a man honest and healthy. I can't argue with a man who still
works 10 hours a day at 82."

"Yeah, he sounds a lot like my father too. That's the way he was,
worked until the day he died right out there in the barn."

"So in all those years since your father retired from the McCaw
Company no one from Geraldson approached him?"

"Nope. Dad said that the only person who knew that he had dirt on
Stanford Corbin was Corbin himself. I guess Corbin was just too busy
with his new position to worry about Dad. Nobody ever came around.
But Dad knew that someday someone would. That's what he always told
me. And that's why he kept this box all these years."

"Do you know what's in it?"

"Nope. Dad made a point that I was not to ask him about it and that I
was not to even look in it myself while he was alive. I trusted my
father, Mr. Stealthboxxer. Never had a reason to disobey him and still
don't. If he was right about what he knew I don't even want to know
what's inside that box. Remember, he told me that it was for my own
protection that he didn't ever tell me the whole story about it. I
still believe that Mr. Stealthboxxer, especially after seeing
Geraldson sell the old McCaw property for one tenth of its market
value last month. Nobody sells for that cheap Mr. Stealthboxxer unless
they are trying to wipe their hands of something dirty. I've been
living here for 32 years right next door to Geraldson's regional
office for most of that time. I have seen some of their people. They
scare the willies out of me and I don't mind saying so. They haven't
paid me or Dad any attention in all these years and I don't want them
to start. I'm going to give this box to you and be done with it and
live my life as a dairy farmer, simple and safe thank you very much."

"Davis, I appreciate what you are saying. I don't want for you to get
messed up in anything either. If what you say is true about Geraldson
and their being into something dirty I want to protect you as much as
I can. I promise that I won't mention you or your father or any of his
connections to this case to anyone that I don't know for certain I can
trust and that is a very small group of people I can assure you. You
have my word."

"Thank you, SB. It's really a relief to finally be done with it. Dad
was always a pretty contented man but I could tell that this stuck in
the back of his mind always and I am sure that he would be happy to
know that the secret burden he carried for all those years is finally
off his shoulders. And mine. I have a key for that lock hidden here in
the kitchen. Dad always insisted that I know where it was even though
he told me never to open the box myself. I'll get it for you."

He waked to the cupboard over the kitchen counter and opened the door.
He pulled out a stack of earthen bowls and then pulled a loose
clapboard off of the back of the cabinet wall exposing a small recess
in the wall. Attached to a leather key fob was a single rusty key
with an odd cut to it. He handed it over and the leather was curled at
the edges and cracked and dry. "Here you go, Mr. Stealthboxxer. It's
all yours now. I hope it helps you in your case, whatever that is."

I gave him my thanks. I also gave him my real business card and
instructions to call my office if anyone came around asking about me,
the box, his father, or McCaw or Geraldson just in case. I wanted to
make sure that he would be protected in case there was more going on
that either he or I didn't know about. I took the box and the key and
left him there in his kitchen in the mid afternoon. It was good to see
the honest look of relief on the simple farmer's face of a burden of
many years lifted.





To be continued . . .







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