DUMPSITE, Page 8

“Nothing to forgive, let’s get you settled in and we can both get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow we’ll talk.”

  She went to sleep feeling satisfied. I pulled it off, she thought.

  Morning came quickly. She dressed and went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. There on the counter was a note. It was from Jonas.

  Sorry, but I had to run into town. I had some business to take care of which I couldn’t put off. I will be back early afternoon. Grandfather.

  She finished her coffee, dressed and decided to check out the place.

  As she was walking through the lobby, softly singing to herself a man came up to her and asked her to sing a little louder.

  “Hi, I’m Muddy, can I be of assistance?”

  “I’m just looking around,” she told the gentleman, “oh, my name is Belle.”

  “Have you had breakfast, Belle?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Would you care to join me?”

  “Thank you, I certainly would.”

  They went directly to the Breakfast Nook Cafe. The food was wonderful and Muddy was a charmer. The fake Belle thoroughly enjoyed herself but decided monkey business would have to wait. She would play the part of a concerned granddaughter.

  Mudd told Belle he had to record some percussion parts for a movie track he and Mother were writing.

  “You and your mother?”

  “No, Mother is my friend and associate.”

  “Oh, what’s the movie about?” She asked.

  He gave, Belle, a quick outline of the movie. She had a strange look on her face as Muddy rambled through the story. The dump scene seemed to surprise her most. Maybe the characters surprised her. Or could she know something about the dumpsite. No! He surmised, how could she.

  As a gentleman should, he escorted her to her grandfather’s suite.

  “Hope to see you soon.”

  “I’m sure we’ll run into each other,” Belle told him as she thought, another free meal can’t hurt.

  Mudd went to the studio. He wondered what Mother needed him to do?

  Ask and you shall receive. Mother was at the door.

  “Hey Mother, what’s up?”

  “Well, Mudd I thought I would let you hear what I was working on before I continued. Maybe you can hear something I overlooked and I need to change some drum parts. I’ve been working on the theme song for the movie, The Long Road Back. The title is great, as is the song. I think it needs a big arrangement, you know, strings – horns – timpani. Are you in agreement?”

  “Absolutely! I’ve been rolling the song around in my feeble mind and agree completely.”

  “Good, let’s go to the piano. I’ll play what I have and you listen. If you hear anything different this is a good time to speak up.”

  M&M spent the next hour tightening up the arrangement, making a few minor and one major change to the song. The changes would make the song a perfect theme song for the movie. M&M did disagree on a few things. Actually, they did a little yelling. Not the norm for them.

  “Listen Muddy. I have a few things I need to get done. I’ll stop back around 1:30”

  “Okay, sounds good.”

  They both wondered what all the yelling was about. Mother, thought Belle was the distraction and Muddy wondered if Mother had too much on his plate. Whatever it was, it didn’t sit well with either one of them.

  Mudd liked the melody Mother had written. Now all they needed to make a perfect song was killer lyrics!

  As he was finishing the percussion track, Mother, arrived.

  “By the way Mudd, the percussion sounds on the money,”

  “Thanks, I was hoping you’d like it. It’s a little different from what we talked about; it seems to fit better.”

  “Right on the mark,” Mother confirmed, “I’m going to catch up on some paper work. I’ll call you later, we can discuss the sweetening.”

  Thirteen — The List

  The meeting was to be held at the FBI office in Newark, New Jersey. Solly and Jonas, were almost there. The ride up the Garden State Parkway was uneventful. Jonas, however kept thinking about Belle. He wondered if his son told her everything? Why and how did she look him up. If she could find him so could other folks. Especially with all the electronic gadgetry they have today. He decided not to worry until he hears the whole story from Agent Weisman.

  It was almost five years ago when the FBI found him. He had been living in Nova Scotia, working on the lobster boats. One of his many places of habitation during the last 50 plus, years. Whenever a feeling of overstaying came on him, he would pack up and leave. He always had plans made ahead of time in case he needed a quick getaway. Not until about eight years ago did he get even a hint of being followed. Two years later the FBI contacted him as he was about to leave Nova Scotia. Vernon’s thoughts went back.

  He spent the first few years in Brazil. He enjoyed himself while there. Thinking he had escaped the gang of hoods who tried to kill him, he lived the life of leisure.

  When he had found the case sitting on a shelf in the bedroom closet of his home in West Orange, covered with a blanket, Vernon immediately thought setup! On top of the case were some loose small domination bills totaling a little over $300. He opened the case, and found two million, dollars. After removing some $20,000 from one of the stacks he took the small bills and put them with the two million, hid the cash above a heating duct in the basement. The twenty thousand he left in the case. He was hoping to stir up some dissent amongst the perpetrators by leaving some of the money. Maybe they would accuse each other of pocketing it for themselves. Unfortunately, he should have concentrated on getting out of the area. They caught him. Kept him locked up for a couple of days and then took him to the dumpsite. The rest is history. Thank God for those kids and Lou’s mother. They saved his life. Many years after the boys died he found out about their accident. He felt sad. He hoped it was an accident.

  “We’re almost there,” Solly, blurted out, “you seem to be somewhere else, Mr. Lundgren.”

  “Yes, I was thinking about my early travels and how I ended up here.”

  There were still a few things Jonas didn’t understand. Why is the FBI interested in getting the case the money was in. The hoods had thrown the box in the shallow grave next to where they buried, him. The boys grabbed the case, brought it home and gave it back to him when he was about to leave. It was empty; the twenty thousand was gone. Jonas, remembered the hoods removing the money and tossing the case. He used it for a suitcase. Lou’s mom gave him a few pieces of clothing. The clothes had belonged to Lou’s father before he left the family some years back.

  Lou’s mother and the boys drove Jonas to the Newark bus station. He thanked them and headed toward the bus but as soon as they were out of sight he looked for a taxi. The taxi took him to West Orange, New Jersey, where he had hidden the two million. He figured he was entitled to the money. After all who else could he give it to? He needed the cash to escape a fate worse then death. The two million was in large bills but he had put over three hundred dollars in small bills in the bag with the rest of the money. He had been renting a home in West Orange before the incident. The two million, less of course the $20,000 he left in the case for the hoods to find was hidden in the basement above a heating duct. Vernon had the taxi take him to Philadelphia. From there he hopped a train at 30th Street Station.

  Vernon didn’t know at the time and didn’t learn about his son being born until he came back from Brazil. He had met his son’s mother Liz, a year before he left. They planned on a wedding as soon as he finished the latest project he was working on. It didn’t happen. He didn’t want Liz to get involved in the mess so he called her and told her he would be gone for a while. Disappointed with the news, she didn’t tell him she was pregnant. He later learned Liz had died when their son was born. Her parents would adopt his son and bring him up as their own. The courts decided quickly to approve the adoption. He wished there had been more he could have
done besides sending money for support.

  The train went to Charlotte, NC where he grabbed a bus to Atlanta, Georgia. Now he had to be careful. He wanted to say goodbye to his parents. They lived almost directly south of Atlanta, about 60 miles as the crow flies.

  Vernon carefully made his way to their home, He was carrying the case with his clothes and a gunny sack with the two million. He planned to put most of the two million in a metal locker he had used as a kid. It would remain buried under the floor boards of the small out building some 30 feet from the main house. Vernon took 200,000 with him figuring he could live for 3-4 years in Brazil. It was just after two in the morning as he approached the house. His father had a loaded shotgun over the door and wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Therefore, he was very careful. He made his way to the kitchen window. It had some cover from a large tree. As he peeked in he could see his father. His father looked him in the eyes and said.

  “Why don’t you come in the door son.”

  “Sorry Dad but I’m in a bit of trouble.”

  He explained to his dad, who went and got his mother. He told them as much as he thought they needed to know.

  His father said, “There were some men at the house late last night, asking if you were home. Your mom and I told them we hadn’t heard from you since last Christmas. The men left, but the car parked a half a mile down the road for a few hours.”

  “Haven’t seen them since,” his mother said. “Are you going to be all right, son?”

  Vernon, reassured them he had things under control. He told them he was leaving and wouldn’t be back for some time. They understood but asked if maybe calling the police would help. They knew it was not a good thing to do but thought they would ask. Hugs from both of them and Vernon left. He circled around for about a mile and got on a back road. His good friend Caster, lived there. He found his house and asked for a lift to town in the morning. He stayed there and got 40 winks.

  Vernon, needed to get a passport and some other illegal papers. He had an old friend in Atlanta who would be able to help. A few days later, the exchange of a couple thousand dollars, and Vernon received his new ID’s. His new moniker was, Paul Arthur Newfield, from Asheville, North Carolina. He headed to Brazil, as soon as he could book passage on a steamer out of New Orleans. What a life!

  “We’re here,” Solly, said.

  “Let’s get it over with.”

  The building was a typical large concrete structure with offices up the wazoo. They were directed to the elevator after Solly identified himself.

  The office was on the sixth floor. Agent Weisman had his name on the door, in impressive gold leaf.

  “Welcome Mr. Lundgren.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “We’ll try to make this as short as possible.” Agent Weisman promised. “There have been some new developments.”

  The FBI had been helpful but they shipped, Jonas, around like a rag doll. Solly told him they were getting close to closure. Jonas could again live a normal life, he hoped.

  “Do you have the case with the money in it when you were at the dumpsite, way back when. If not, do you know where it is?” asked, Agent Weisman.

  “The old case?” Jonas asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I had it in Brazil and brought it back but I would have to think on it some. Maybe I can remember where I left the thing.”

  “Did you throw it away?”

  “No, I seem to remember giving it away. It was pretty beat up after traveling with me for many years,” he said. “Let me try writing down the places where I stayed, maybe it’ll come to me.”

  Weisman, gave Jonas, a pencil and pad. He started to write. Weisman and Solly left the room, Jonas, started to think back, it wasn’t easy.

  Fourteen — The Thinking Cap

  It was eerily quiet as Mother navigated around the building checking on the little things. The lights were all lit, no spots on the rugs, general cleanliness was very good. There was a break in his schedule and a quick trip around the place usually got him thinking again.

  Everything looked in order. Mother went to see if Solly was back. The new hire, a temp from Manpower, was working today and doing a fine job. Mother headed to see Mr. Gerald but decided to call first. He walked over to an in-house wall phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Mr. Gerald, are you busy?”

  “A bit. But if you need anything I can put it aside.”

  “No, it won’t be necessary I’ll get back with you tomorrow.” Mother hung up and started to think back to the time when Gerald was hired. Noodles had checked Gerald’s resume and he had come up squeaky clean. Mother, would call Noodles and ask if he had any second thoughts…that’s what I’ll do, he called.

  As usual, he got the answering machine. He left a message and waited for a return call.

  There were two verses to finish for the theme song and part of the bridge. The title was great. Loved the hook. The story the verses tell was lacking punch. He started there.

  He worked on the lyrics for the next hour or so when the phone rang.

  “Mother,” it was Noodles.

  A few pleasantries and he told him about his suspicions. He didn’t have any concrete evidence but wondered if he could do a double check on the background of Gerald.

  “Not a problem, Mother, I’ll make a thorough check. It’ll take a bit longer because I don’t want anyone to know a check is being made, especially Gerald.”

  “Great, much appreciated.”

  “No problem, Mother. How’s Muddy?”

  “Doing good. He had a date this afternoon.”

  “Good for him,” Noodles said. “Talk to you later.”

  Back to the lyrics… again the phone rang. It was James.

  “What can I do for you,” Mother asked.

  “Ask not what you can do for me but what I can do for you. Vince is back playing guitar. He was whisked away consensually by a large European diamond consortium. They had flown him to Florida where they spent a few hours questioning him and then, they all went to dinner. He stayed an extra day to play golf. He had dropped his phone while at home, he didn’t have time get it replaced. I gave him a tongue lashing, telling him how worried we all were because of the things which had been happening. He apologized and offered to buy lunch tomorrow. They told him the FBI had mentioned his knowledge of what happened at the dumpsite. There it is again – the DUMPSITE. If you have time why don’t you came down tomorrow and have lunch with Vince and me.”

  “Good idea I have a pile of things to tell you and the guys. See if Chuck is available to have lunch. By the way where are you lunching?”

  “I’ll let you know tomorrow,” James said, “around one o’clock.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  ~

  Jonas, felt a huge headache coming on if he didn’t get through this list soon. He looked at it again, thinking, maybe another reading would shock his memory. Brazil, San Antonio, Los Angeles, Sacramento, Vancouver, the little town in Montana. From there he headed south but had two or three stopovers in Missouri, Arkansas and Tennessee. He arrived in South Carolina. He remembered a small town in the northwest section near the North Carolina border.

  The lady in Florida who had a young son named Andres; he always asked him about the case. He called it a chest and always asked Jonas where the chest came from, who owned it and if he could have it. Jonas made up a few stories which sounded exciting to Andres but he couldn’t remember if he had left it there. He thought he still had it when he moved.

  This was not as easy as it seemed. He had lived in Florida for over three years. He had a few chances to visit the folks before they passed. He would replenish his money each time he visited. When they were gone he decided to venture up north and see if his son was still with Liz’ parents. It had been over twenty- three years since the incident. They lived in Lodi, New Jersey. He would regularly send them money to help with expenses. They knew where th
e money came from but he did ask them not to say anything about receiving the few dollars he sent. Jonas didn’t even know his son. It was the hardest thing he had to deal with, having a son and not being a dad.

  Jonas had found himself a job in Paterson, New Jersey, working in a music store, selling records. The music had changed over the years. He was still a fan of the old-style R&B and some of the soul music from Motown; he wished he was still in the business.

  Okay I was in Paterson. Did I still have the case? I don’t know. I need a break it’s been over two hours of hard thinking.

  He found Solly, asked him for a cup of coffee.

  “I’ll get it for you. Sugar, cream, how do you like it?”

  “Black, please.”

  Solly was quick with the coffee. Solly asked if he could help.

  “I don’t know,” Jonas, said, “maybe if you look at the list and ask me some questions my mind wouldn’t be such a blank.”

  “Sure, let me see the list,” Solly responded.

  Solly went over the list and the footnotes Jonas had made. After a few minutes he looked up and said, “you sure have moved around through the years. It must be tough not having seen your son grow up.”

  “Yes, it was. Many nights before I fell asleep, his mother’s face would be in my mind. I would try to put together a composite picture of her and myself. It would give me a picture of him, sort of a vision. I would picture him playing a guitar or throwing a football. It helped for the moment but when morning arrived I was just as lonely.”

  “I hope we can clear this up soon. We’re really close. If we can somehow find the case or what happened to it the entire situation would be resolved.” Solly ventured.

  Over an hour was spent going over the list. They were sure Jonas didn’t have the case by the time he moved to Paterson. He purchased new luggage before he came north. Where? I’m not sure but the case was gone before Paterson.

  “Let’s call it a day and get you home,” Solly suggested. “You and I can get together at the chateau, and hone down your list. I think you have done enough thinking for today. You should call Belle and let her know you’re on the way back.”