Darnell hung up and updated Vanessa on the situation. A look of defeat rained over their faces.
‘We can’t quit now. We’ve come so far.’
‘Commander Hill’s the boss, we have to do what he says. By the way, when I mentioned the phone call you’d received alerting you to the vandalism at the theatre, he said there was no record of a call to a local police station last night. It was never reported, so he doesn’t know who the hell called you.’
‘It was a 202 number so I assumed it was the local force. Let me check.’ Vanessa copied the number and searched for it on Google. ‘It’s the Ford’s Theatre number. Kenny must’ve called this in directly to me, pretending to be the police. How the hell did he get my number? Darnell, we can’t just give up. Let’s carry on.’
‘The Commander has the last word. There’s nothing more we can do now. We completed the journey and we failed the mission.’
Vanessa scrolled on her phone. ‘There’s no flights available until tomorrow morning anyway. Is there seriously nothing we can do in the meantime?’
‘I don’t see what we can do.’ He scratched his head before a light bulb lit up. ‘Well, there is something we can do, but it’s personally for me rather than this case.’
‘And what’s that?’
An hour later they were in a rental car on the I-695 towards Maryland. The Mustang was ordered at Darnell’s personal expense as he made a pilgrimage to his own past.
‘I can’t believe you’ve never been before,’ Vanessa said as she touched up her lipstick in the visor mirror. ‘It’s your history after all.’
‘I know, well life happens. Every time I’ve been to DC it’s been a short stop and not much allowed for excursions after trying to fit in the museums and the memorials with the kids.’
‘I’ve lived here for most of my life and I’ve not even had the chance to get up here, to be fair. So much for being the history buff. It was always to Gettysburg on our school trips. I guess not much changes as that’s exactly where Aaron is right now.’
‘My Aaron? At Gettysburg?’
‘Yeah, did you not know?’
‘No? How do you know that?’ Darnell glanced over at his passenger with a surprised stare.
‘He was getting some school trip approval form signed by Jasmine when I was collecting your stuff.’
‘She didn’t mention anything. Then again, she isn’t talking to me at the moment. Still, it would’ve been nice to be informed where my kids are.’
The concrete cities soon turned to prairie land. They passed mountainous landscapes, streaming rivers and vast lakes. The bustling sounds of the city transformed into the calling songs of birds who tweeted over the hum of their engine.
A large red sign welcomed visitors to the Antietam National Battlefield. A visitor centre made up the entrance and the detectives dumped their vehicle in the car park. They made their way up a dusty path, passing watch-towers and fields as far as the eye could see until they found a stone bridge hovering above a creek.
‘So this is where your ancestor died?’
‘Abram Jackson. That’s right. He was shot just along here. The bridge was destroyed that day too but was rebuilt soon after. It was called Rohrbach’s Bridge back then after a local farmer, but when it was rebuilt, they called it Burnside Bridge as a tribute to that man who led the Union Army into battle that day. My family’s freedom all lies here. Not that it was really the desired outcome for Lincoln as we’ve sadly learned. If only Abram knew what he was really fighting for. Maybe he’d have stayed at home with his family and lived on.’
‘I noticed a coffee sign at the visitor’s centre. Why don’t I give you a few minutes to pay your respects and meet you back at the car when you’re done?’
‘Thank you, Vanessa.’ He placed his hand on her shoulder and offered her a remorseful smile. ‘You’ve become quite the pal throughout all of this.’
‘Who knew we’d be here when we began?’
‘Tearing each other apart.’ They giggled and embraced before she shimmered off into the distance.
Darnell took off his suit jacket and placed it on the rim of the bridge, before perching on the edge and staring considerately at his surroundings. The only sounds were the light breeze which tickled at his elbows, and the trickling water, which flowed beneath him. What a contrast it was to the day Abram died, where there would have been gunfire and soldiers screaming as they lay dying. He silently prayed before glancing around, trying to imagine the horrors which took place where he now sat. He wondered what Abram’s last words were. What was he thinking and feeling as he went into battle? And where would Darnell himself be today if Abram hadn’t made that sacrifice?
A lone leaf flew from a nearby tree and glided towards the water. It landed softly on the stream. Darnell mindfully watched it shimmer away under the bridge. He stood up and made his way to the other side and watched the leaf reappear and flow away from him, disappearing under a sycamore tree, which had collapsed under the pressure of wind. Its branches climbed into the water. To the right, Darnell could make out what appeared to be a glass case. He scrunched up his eyes trying to focus on what the box could be.
The detective curiously stepped off the bridge and walked down
