‘What do you mean about Oak Ridge?’ Vanessa and Darnell glanced at each other.
‘Us Lincoln folk, we talk, you know? It’s closed to the public while we’re facing vandalism, and now you two are coming our way investigating our site. It doesn’t take a scientist to connect it all.’ Victor winked. ‘It’s a great shame that these kids are tampering with historical artefacts. They have no sense of values, do they?’
‘They certainly don’t.’ Vanessa wiped her forehead, relieved that the true case at Oak Ridge hadn’t become public knowledge as of yet, all the while avoiding confirming or denying his suspicions.
‘It was found this morning when we opened up the building to the public. Our staff do a routine security check every morning before we open, and every night before we close. Whoever did this came in overnight.’
‘Is the house alarmed?’
‘Of course,’ Victor confirmed. ‘I can only assume whoever did this knew the site very well. We’ve never changed the alarm number, maybe we’re just a little old-fashioned and don’t expect it here. Springfield, Washington… you expect that sorta thing, but not here. It’s a small town and we only get visitors with an interest in Mary Todd.’
‘Do you have CCTV?’ Darnell quizzed.
‘Yes we have CCTV but the battery died. Suspicious really.’
‘Don’t you have a battery back-up pack?’
‘With all due respect, detective, this is not some downtown South Chicago hood. This is Lexington, Kentucky. This is a nice town and is one of America’s most respected First Ladies’ homes. In all my years of working here, I’ve never witnessed a crime besides maybe a kid trying to steal a sweet from the gift shop. But yes, maybe you’re right, maybe we need a little more security these days, especially after this.’
‘Is there anybody who works here who you’d be suspicious of?’
‘The only people who work here now are my grandchildren who practically run the place these days. We did have a couple of maintenance guys over the summer. I can dig out their names. We had a renovation so we had some contractors in, I’ll have to find their details up in the office.’
‘Did they have the alarm code?’
‘We gave it to them because we took a family trip and closed the museum while it was all going on. You don’t want an old fool like me in the way when you’re working. They did a good job.’
Victor took the detectives to the back garden, where they had a large board detailing the history of the house. It was in the centre of the board which had the laurel wreath symbol spray-painted upon it. The detectives took a closer glance and read over the details where the culprit had driven their attention to.
‘Wow, that’s pretty surprising,’ Detective Jackson said. ‘I wouldn’t have had Mary Todd down as somebody who was waited on by slaves.’
‘It was rather common for that period,’ Victor said. ‘Most residences around the area had slaves helping out around the home.’
‘Yeah, but for a woman who ended up marrying the man who detested slavery, it’s rather strange that she grew up in an environment which embraced the practice,’ Vanessa replied, agreeing with her colleague.
‘I see what you mean,’ Victor said. ‘To be honest, it has always been something we’ve been discouraged from promoting. It’s on here to please the history buffs, but as you can see this is quite small signage compared to our other stands.’
‘The Kentucky Police Department told us that you were concerned that this was done by a neo-Nazi group. Why did you come to that conclusion?’
‘Well as you can see it’s marking a board that shows the Todd family to be slave owners, I wondered whether they were trying to send us a message about how our history was built on slavery even when it came to our idols. But there was something else.’ Victor paused, as the detectives scratched their heads, trying to figure out the motives behind the vandalism. ‘My son’s a symbologist by trade but helps out here at the site now and again. He specifically studies cryptograms, he’s a lecturer at Louisville College. He reviewed this particular piece of art, if you can call it that, and said that this symbol is that of the Aryan Fist.’
‘The Aryan what?’ Vanessa gasped.
‘The Aryan Fist. It’s used by white supremacists. The white fist is a symbol of white power, used by hate groups to promote their vision of a desire of a complete Aryan nation.’
‘What about the wreath?’ asked Darnell.
‘That is a skinhead symbol. I can only assume that’s because historically those two groups have had a mutual interest. Skinheads and white supremacists kinda end up under the same roof these days, if you ask me.’
The detectives looked to each other and tried to read each other’s minds. Both appeared pleased that they had now uncovered the symbol’s meaning but they were even more lost as to who was behind it or where they’d be taken next if they were to find the body of Lincoln.
‘I’ll leave you to explore the place. Oh but before you go, detective, I think this must be for you.’ The old man took out an envelope from his pocket and shakily handed it to the cop. ‘It was posted here and arrived this morning. Strange, really.’
‘Thank you for your time, Victor.’ Vanessa smiled and shook his hand. Darnell rummaged through the envelope and read over the letter inside.
The person you marry says a lot about who you are. Did Lincoln share more in common with his wife than we give him credit for?
‘Is he suggesting Lincoln was for slavery?’ Darnell scratched his head as
