Hell's Roundabout. Benjamin Vance
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got out, checking the tracks in the dim light of the headlights and dwindling daylight. He didn’t have the foresight to bring his pine broom so he tried sweeping with his gloves and had mixed results. The track’s patterns were apparently the same, but there seemed to be some black substance where the tires last rested. Not logistically prepared to take samples, he used his coffee-cup lid to scoop the stuff and cleaned the cup out with snow before dropping in a sample of the black muck. Neither occupant said much on the way back to the motel, but their minds were working overtime.
As they pulled up to the motel, and before Army shut off the headlights, he asked, “What did they mine at that big pit?”
“I really don’t know, but I think iron or some similar ore.”
Army looked at Chiara and asked, “Do you want to come in for coffee or perhaps dinner. I’d be glad to buy you dinner.”
“Oh, God thanks Army, but I think I’ll go home and try to decipher all this. Is it okay if I call the motel tomorrow morning if I think of anything else?”
“Sure it is, and don’t forget, I’d like to get into that old house as soon as possible to check things out. There may be something in there that’ll lead to an answer to this puzzle.”
“Oh, I forgot, sure Jeff … somebody is the broker in temporary charge of it, but I have a key too. Maybe we better get him to go in with us … Tanner is his last name; Jeff Tanner. I’ll call him tonight, okay?”
“Thanks Chiara, it would be better to go in with him. Of course I’m under a time constraint and I really need to get in early tomorrow if possible. If you would like me to call him then call me with his number.”
“Okay, Army. I’ll let you know as soon as possible. Goodnight.”
Army lay thawing on his warm bed in his warm room and contemplated the whereabouts of Mrs. Peterson. If the tracks were the right tire make for a Prius he would still be no further ahead than he was at that moment. The pieces of the puzzle just didn’t fit. How can a car pull onto an overlook and just disappear.
He thought it may have been possible for a car to back up on exactly the same tracks and obliterate the previous ones if the conditions were just right, but why would someone do that when there was plenty of room to simply make a large loop and turn around that way; especially an 83 year old woman? He decided to buy a broom and sweep the entire track if necessary, to see if the in and out tracks overlapped. Meanwhile, he was tired as hell and hoped Chiara could arrange a meeting with the realtor tomorrow, the same guy he’d talked to earlier. Also, he hoped he would at least be able to glimpse the sun the next day.
However, the next morning broke cold, overcast and snowing, just as he feared. He opened the drapes in his second-story room to let in the maximum light possible and he thought of Sonora and her beautiful laugh. Then he hung his head for a moment, looked out again, chastised himself for thinking about her; slowly shook his head in a self-effacing way. Finally he condescended to take a shower and meet the miserable day head-on. Just as he turned to visit the bathroom, the motel phone rang and frightened the quiet out of the room. It was Chiara with information about Jeff Tanner and the Peterson home. Tanner was not permitted to allow anyone into the home without a search warrant.
Mr. Gilbertson said he wanted to make sure all avenues were explored before anyone was allowed in the house. The trouble with that mind-set was all avenues could not be explored until the house was checked. Army decided to call Mr. Gilbertson and called Sheriff Shepard to get Gilbertson’s number. He had to check in with Andy anyway and considered it a good reason to do so. Andy was dismayed at what Army had to tell him, but Andy had been around the bend more than once and knew Army would do a good job with the investigation. In any case, the DNA check was not back yet.
Army called, but had to leave a message on Gilbertson’s machine. He cleaned up, ate breakfast and headed to a food store to buy a broom. He decided on a polymer broom with a soft bristle and stopped to purchase some beer on the way to the register. The store wasn’t exactly busy so he breezed through the checkout and into his four-wheel drive SUV in record time. As he pulled out, he noticed it was snowing even harder. He decided to sweep the tracks before he did anything else, since a wait may have meant no tire tracks until spring.
He took the same route and found the tracks were still discernable. He parked and started sweeping, but found it almost impossible to tell if the car that made the tracks had just backed perfectly over the ones it made going in. The more he swept, it seemed the more snow obliterated his sweeping. He finally gave up and decided to visit a Toyota dealership to check on tire makes for a Prius.
Finding a dealer was not easy in the snow, especially for a Texas boy, but he persevered and finally found a used car dealer with some snow-covered Toyotas on the lot. The place was open and a salesman actually opened the door to the showroom for him. The salesman provided his card and got him a cup of coffee and they settled down in the warm office to talk some.
Army found the guy very knowledgeable and willing to share his information. Apparently the Prius original tires for the model year of Mrs. Peterson’s Prius were Bridgestone. Because the Prius is heavier than a comparable non-hybrid it has special high pressure, low rolling resistance tires which would leave a pronounced tread pattern and actually might succeed in obliterating a previous track. It both frustrated and relieved Army.
The salesman had no idea about tread patterns, but Army decided he might find a similar pattern on one of the Toyotas in the lot. He received permission to try, with no help from the salesman. He couldn’t find a perfect match for his tread photo, and he was still at square one.
As he headed to his rented SUV he thought better about leaving so quickly and decided to test the salesman’s general knowledge of the area. He stuck his head back in to ostensibly thank the man and suddenly remembered to ask one other question. He asked about the history of the Peterson’s iron mine. The salesman’s face lit up as Army thought it might. He proceeded to tell him about the history of the mine and almost every aspect of the operation including the union troubles and theft of heavy processing machinery which caused the final closing. When asked about what was mined there he grinned and said, “Lots of stuff, lots of stuff.”
Army just seated himself again and let the man ramble. He said the advertised mineral was iron ore, but apparently there were a lot of other rare minerals mined including extraordinarily strong Magnetite. The minerals mined during the war were kept secret, because some said there were special minerals in the area that had almost magical properties. It was hinted some were even used for the Manhattan Project and in the first atom bomb. He suspected they were what are known currently as Rare Earth minerals, but who knew then what really came out of the mine.
The man’s facts turned to conjecture at every other opportunity, and it was up to Army to pick out the important data from the conversational. When he’d had enough, he feigned a meeting time, thanked the man profusely and left with his mind racing.
When he returned to the motel for lunch he found he had two messages, one from John Gilbertson and one from Chiara. They both had his cell number and he wondered why he didn’t receive the calls. He called Chiara first.
“Hi Army, first of all, I just wanted to let you know that cell phones hardly work in this area, no matter what company you have. Secondly, Mr. Gilbertson called me personally and asked if I could let you into the Peterson house. Apparently, he received a call from Sheriff Shepard in California requesting you be allowed to pursue your investigation. When would you like to see it?”
“Well Chiara, thank you very much. Did you call Mr. Tanner and ask if he could accompany us?”
“Yes, I did and he said any time after lunch would be fine. Have you been doing anything this beautiful New York morning?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. I checked on the tire tracks, the standard tires on a Prius and the minerals mined at the Peterson mine. I found out a lot. How about we meet at about 1:00 p.m. to go through the home, and I’ll tell you then? Would that suit you?”
“Yeah, that’ll be fine with me. I’ll call Mr. Tanner and let him know.”