‘So Lincoln’s father married into money. So much for the American Dream of working for your success, which they always sell us at school,’ Vanessa grumbled. As she read over the contents, she spotted a small marking. It was no bigger than her thumb, but she could just about make out the laurel wreath, which had a fist rising out. To anyone passing it wouldn’t have been noticeable, but to these detectives who were hunting for a particular act of vandalism, it stood out like a rotten brushstroke on a masterpiece.
‘He’s been here!’ Vanessa turned to Darnell, who followed her fingertip to the marking.
‘He wanted me to see this,’ Darnell replied.
They rushed to the visitors’ centre and asked to speak to a manager. Five minutes later they were introduced to the park manager, Penelope Stokes, who appeared relieved to see the detectives.
‘We’ve been expecting you.’ Stokes spoke with a southern accent. ‘We’ve heard you’ve been doing the rounds of the Lincoln parks.’ The detectives looked to each other and rolled their eyes as they encountered more gossip from the lands of Lincoln. ‘How can I help you folks?’
They escorted Stokes to the signage which had been tarnished. She looked it up and down before turning to her visitors.
‘Have you seen this before?’ asked Vanessa.
‘Never. You expected us to see that? Did you turn up with a microscope here today to find this?’
‘Have you seen anything suspicious over the last few days?’ Vanessa enquired.
‘Like what?’ Penelope replied. Vanessa and Darnell were lost for suggestions; they were unsure of what suspicious would look like in this case. A woman with a marker pen? A man with a skeleton on his back?
‘Do you have a research centre here?’ Darnell enquired. The manager nodded her head. ‘Can we see who has signed in and out of the research centre?’
‘Can I ask what this all has to do with? I can see you don’t have a warrant to search my facilities and I’m guessing a little bit of graffiti here and there ain’t gonna make two respected detectives like yourselves travel across state lines for a marking no bigger than a thumb tack. I know it’ll take you some days to get a warrant, so let’s play a little tit for tat. You tell me what really brings you here and I’ll grant you full access to our facility. How does that sound?’
Vanessa and Darnell nervously looked at each other. They had signed a Non-Disclosure Agreement to keep their mission under wraps, but they wondered how far they could take their fairly weak leads without the support of others. As detectives they were used to sharing information for something in return, usually with an investigative journalist, but a National Park Ranger was a new one. Penelope looked like a trustworthy lady; she was a short plump woman with a round face. Her short hazel hair was styled with a parting and she wore gold oval glasses. She carried her curvy frame in a patterned shirt beneath a salmon cardigan and beige trousers. She looked like a mom off a family dinner advert.
‘OK,’ Darnell reluctantly replied. ‘Could we take this somewhere quiet?’
They moved into the manager’s office and sat down. Around the cabin walls were multiple tourism awards and health and safety certificates. Penelope made the detectives a coffee each before making herself comfortable before them.
‘Somebody has stolen Abraham Lincoln’s body.’ Darnell began to tell the tale. As he retold the story, he realised just how ridiculous it sounded now they were seemingly hunting petty vandalism. ‘Whoever did this is leaving us a message, taking us to different areas of Lincoln’s life. We have a feeling they’re trying to pinpoint us towards bits of Lincoln’s life which might not have been well promoted in our schools.’
‘I see.’ Despite the juicy tale, Penelope’s face didn’t once falter or offer the reaction the detectives would expect after delivering such scandalous news. ‘And what is it you need from me and my facility?’
‘We need to know who has signed in and out of the research centre over the previous weeks. Particularly students. Maybe even a list of current and former employees as we’re trying to determine any trends across the sites regarding who had easy access, particularly once you closed the doors to the public. Please could you also let us know if any of these markings show up on any artefacts behind the scenes?’
‘Certainly, I’ll go speak to HR.’ She picked herself up, using her desk for support, and hobbled out of the office to retrieve the items they requested.
‘Thank you so much for your help, Mrs Stokes,’ Vanessa said as Penelope departed her office. As the door closed, she noticed an envelope resting beside the park manager’s keyboard.
‘Darnell.’ She nodded towards the document, with the name and address in view of the detectives. ‘Look! It’s for you.’
‘It’s the same as the others. The same handwriting and the Illinois stamp.’
‘Open it.’ She nodded encouragingly.
‘She hasn’t handed it to me. That’s a little rude, don’t you think? Taking mail from someone’s office without their permission.’
‘It has your name on it, it’s your property.’
He peered around to check they were alone before taking the envelope and carefully pealing the seal. He rolled out the letter and reviewed its content.
Those that marry into money, sell their liberty.
‘What do you think he’s trying to tell us?’ Darnell scratched his chin.
‘Well schools always tell us about the rags to riches man who worked his way up to the White House. Maybe they’re trying to tell us he wasn’t as poor as we once thought. That his father married well and ended up rich. He had the same
