‘Can I have another look at the email?’ Vanessa asked and Darnell obliged. She glanced over the text, before eyeing the date and time when it was sent to the press. She then took out her diary, in which she captured her key findings; a recommendation from her former boss when she first joined the force as a documented timeline of events would offer a stronger case in a court of law. She flipped through to the date of when the email was sent. ‘Darnell, Thomas didn’t send this.’
‘How do you know?’ Darnell took back the email and read over it again, looking for any clues for the identity of the sender.
‘Because at the time that this was sent, he was walking from the lodge to your house. I know this because… well… I was following him at the time. It was sent just after six and I remember listening to the Jimmy Davies show on the stereo as I was following him. That’s the real reason I was at your house that night when you found me on your drive. I hadn’t been to see your wife. Nor was I gearing up to apologise to you. I was stalking your son as I was suspicious about his involvement with the case.’
‘So Thomas is innocent?’ Darnell laughed with relief.
‘Well I wouldn’t go overboard. He’s still a good friend of Rick Spabrunt after all. He must know something. But one thing is certain, he didn’t send this email. It’s safe to say he doesn’t hate you as much as you believe.’
‘Thanks, Vanessa, you’ve given me my son back.’ Darnell smiled, squeezed Vanessa’s shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I couldn’t be happier right now.’
Vanessa flipped the pages of her diary to the current date and updated her findings.
‘But it does leave us with another question. If Thomas didn’t send the email, then who did?’
*
The plane landed and the detectives made their way to the National Museum of American History, more commonly known as the Smithsonian.
Washington DC is a bustling metropolis made up of politics, monuments and corporate offices. It has grown vastly from the days of Lincoln’s residence in the city. It was much smaller back then, with only 65,000 residents, mud-paved streets and acres of waste-land. It was certainly not a place which people would envisage a president would call home today.
On the day that Vanessa and Darnell touched down on the capital, it had a much larger population of 600,000, although the clean streets and breath-taking surroundings couldn’t detract from the fact that those who called Washington home continued to have no representation in the House of Representatives, and yet they were still expected to pay their taxes like any other American citizen.
The Smithsonian Museum is located on Constitutional Avenue on the National Mall in central DC. It fits conveniently between two of the city’s most famous monuments; the Capital Building and the Lincoln Memorial. It houses over three million artefacts from the history of the country, including an entire section dedicated to Lincoln himself, from his power suits to the coffee mug that he drank out of in the White House.
Upon entry to the museum, they were met by the Smithsonian manager, Harold Detondo, who had hired and fired Rick Spabrunt, or as he was known then, Patrick Burns, within the space of a month. Harold was unusually tall, rising as high as six feet four, the same height as the president whose body the detectives were currently tracking down. Detondo had mousey-blond hair and a five o’clock shadow. His grey suit hung loose on his skinny frame and his trousers cut a little short around his ankles.
Harold gave them a personalised tour of the museum before taking them into his office. The manager shared the space with accountants, technicians and the museum’s marketing team. Whilst the detectives would have preferred a quieter space to question Harold on Spabrunt’s time with the museum, his colleagues appeared far too busy to listen in to their conversation as they prepared for the Christmas rush. It was one of the busiest times of the year as families from Europe travelled to DC for the festive period before a brief stop in New York for New Year.
‘So tell me about Patrick Burns,’ Darnell began the interview.
‘He worked for us for less than a month. At first he impressed us. He was really keen to progress and learn. But then his interest turned into an obsession. He spent more time looking at the exhibits than he did keeping the place secure.’
‘Were there any exhibits or artefacts that he had a particular interest in?’ Vanessa enquired.
‘Well yes actually, he had a particular interest in Lincoln. He would spend his time in the archive rooms upstairs. Pieces we keep away from the public except for certain times of the year. Letters don’t age well and we have to keep them away from light most of the time, especially seeing people like to take photographs when security aren’t looking. The flash can be seriously damaging.’
‘Could we see the pieces he was interested in?’ Vanessa asked. ‘It’s vital to our case that we follow Patrick’s footsteps, especially if it has something to do with Abraham Lincoln.’
‘So I take it Patrick is the one who has stolen the body?’ Harold asked, stroking the stubble around his chin. The news had now been out for nearly two weeks regarding the theft of Lincoln’s corpse and the whole of the Western world had been transfixed by the story every night on CNN waiting for updates.
‘We are following up on some enquiries,’ Darnell replied, conscious he had landed himself in enough trouble after being a little too loose with his words with previous museum staff in the Midwest.
Harold
