almost translucent, like thin paper stretched over his skull. Ludwig reached into his pants pocket and brought out a handkerchief and used it to dab at the sweat on his brow.
“Are you just here to lend emotional support, Mr. Ludwig?” Stynes asked. “Or do you have a more-how shall I put it? — vested interest in the proceedings?”
Ludwig smiled, but it looked like it cost him some effort. “I can’t stay long.” He grimaced. “I can’t even stand very long. That’s why I was heading to the car. I heard from my oncologist about a week ago. The cancer that started in my prostate has spread to my bones. Not much they can do about that, Detective. In another six months or so, I’ll be back in this cemetery. Eternally.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’ll all go down that road eventually,” Ludwig said. “I’ve had more time than the Manning boy-that’s for sure.” Ludwig turned and looked back toward Justin’s grave site. “Much more.”
“Is that why you paid for this?” Stynes asked.
Ludwig turned back around.
“Yes, you. Who else would have the money and the interest in the case?”
Ludwig tapped his cane against the ground a couple of times. “I don’t have any children of my own. No heirs to speak of. When I’m no longer here, my money is going to go to some charities that my mother chose a long time ago. I thought, why not do something nice for someone who needs it while I’m still here? And you’re right. I did want to stop by to see the result of my gift, even from a distance.”
“But you didn’t want the Mannings to know?”
“If you’ll excuse me, Detective.” Ludwig pointed to his car, a white Lincoln. “I need to sit if this interrogation is going to continue.”
“It’s not an interrogation.”
Ludwig opened the driver’s-side door and slowly, awkwardly lowered his body into the seat, his face red from the exertion. He started the engine and fiddled with the air-conditioning dials and vents, creating a stream of cold air that blew against his face. He dabbed at his forehead again while Stynes waited.
“Better,” Ludwig said. “Much better. What were you asking me about?”
“About the anonymity of your gift.”
“Oh, that.” Ludwig waved the handkerchief dismissively. “I didn’t do it to seek credit, Detective. I had my own reasons. Personal reasons.”
Stynes leaned in closer to the open car door. “Which were?”
Ludwig’s eyes opened wider. “Well,” he said, “this does feel like an interrogation now, doesn’t it?”
“Tell me why you disappeared in the park that day. Why we couldn’t find you after you got home.”
Ludwig tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “I’ll tell you,” he said. “But then I do have to get home. I usually nap several times a day. It’s funny that when we reach the part of our lives when time is most precious, we sleep it away.”
“Why couldn’t we find you?”
“I was in the park for the nature walk that morning, as you know. But I had a routine, a
“Drugs.”
“I’m clean now. I’ve been clean for many years, but back then I couldn’t get enough. Since we had money, I could afford to sustain the habit. There was a man I used to make my purchases from. Never mind who he is-he’s long dead. I never bought in the park or around the kids, but on that day, I ended up short. So my provider agreed to meet me in the park before the walk. I was a good client, so he was willing to work with me.”
“You bought drugs before the nature walk?”
“It’s a low point for me. But there I was, holding. Do you think I wanted to stick around and talk to the police? You can say a lot of things about me, Detective, but I loved my job at the high school. If the police reported that I was in the park buying or possessing cocaine with schoolchildren around, what do you think would have happened to my career?”
“A child was missing. We wouldn’t have cared.”
“You say that now, but how could I be sure? Besides, on my way home, I sampled some of the product. I was paranoid and scared. How do you think I would have responded to the police at my door?”
Stynes studied Ludwig’s face. He believed him. He could see no compelling reason not to. But Stynes also sensed there was more, something else the man had to say about the events of that day.
“Where did you meet your dealer?” the detective asked.
“Well, we couldn’t do it out in the open.”
“So you went into the woods?”
Ludwig nodded.
“Where exactly?”
“We met as far as we could get from the playground. There’s another path over there, one that leads to the homes that border the far side of the park. Not that many people use it.”
“What did you see there that day?”
Ludwig sighed theatrically. “I guess I should count myself lucky that I’m being given enough time to correct mistakes I’ve made in the past. We all hope for that, Detective, don’t we?”
“What did you see?”
Ludwig dabbed at his head. “I saw a man, a man I later came to realize was Ray Bower, the father of one of those kids who was in the park and a friend of the Manning family. He was kneeling down in the dirt out there near that gross little pond, and then he stood up. His hands and his pants were dirty like he’d been burying something. He didn’t see me. He hustled away back toward the houses on the far side of the park.”
Stynes stepped away from the car. He walked in a large circle away from where Ludwig was sitting and then back again. While he walked, his heart pumped faster and faster. He flexed and unflexed his right hand, and when he came back to Ludwig, he pounded his closed fist on the roof of the car.
“Why didn’t you tell us that back then?”
Ludwig jumped but maintained his composure. “I just told you why. And you all said you were looking for a black man. You had a description and a sketch. I knew what I should have done, but I only saw a man digging in the dirt in the woods.”
“Where we found a child’s dead body.”
“Detective, if you want to stand here and try to make me feel guilty, you can’t do a better job of it than I have over the years. I know what I should have done, and I know why I didn’t do it. I didn’t think it mattered until all of this recent attention around the case seemed to open everything back up again.”
“You’ll testify to this.”
“I will.”
“It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. You
Ludwig lifted his left leg and pulled his body the rest of the way into his car. He pointed to his cane. “If I’m still here, Detective, I will. I have nothing left to hide.”
Chapter Forty-six
Several hours after the graveside service, Janet met Detective Stynes at the entrance of the police station. She followed him inside and back to his desk, which sat crowded in among other desks in the small office. A detective at a nearby desk spoke on the telephone, and two uniformed officers talked near a coffee machine. Stynes offered Janet a seat in an uncomfortable-looking vinyl chair. Stynes sat behind his desk and pulled out his ever present notebook.
“They faxed over some reports from the state welfare office,” Stynes said. “I’ve been going over them this afternoon.”
“His name really is Steven Kollman?” Janet asked.
“It really is. I’m not sure of much in this life, but I’m sure of that. Steven John Kollman. Born in Columbus,
