Read Online The Widows of Eden by George Shaffner - Free Book Online Page B

the list.”
    Buford looked up from his computer with a glint in his eye. “No, I’m not,” he replied. “When I tell you the story, you’ll understand why.”
    Four years ago, Buford Pickett discovered that an Army Air Corps bomber named the Lady Be Good disappeared in the deep Sahara Desert after an aborted World War II mission over Naples, Italy. Eight of the nine crew members survived the crash, only to endure days of blistering heat, unrelenting thirst, and a slow, painful, agonizing death. Over the next fifty years, the remains of the entire crew were found, usually by accident, withone exception: a young radio operator named Vernon L. Moore, from New Boston, Ohio.
    Buford concluded, “Guess what? The middle initial of the Vernon Moore who is staying at Wilma’s is ‘L,’ and he’s from New Boston. Four years ago, I eliminated the possibility that the radioman on the Lady Be Good could have been any other Vernon Moore born in the state of Ohio after 1900.”
    â€œThat’s an interesting theory, but it’s hardly conclusive. Didn’t you get the state police to run a fingerprint check on Mr. Moore two years ago?”
    â€œYou need to ask? You were the bagman on the job.”
    â€œBut I never got the results. What were they?”
    â€œInconclusive. To be specific, the state police told us that they identified nine people who matched his fingerprints going back to 1954.”
    â€œNine? Were they all named Vernon Moore?”
    â€œI don’t know. They refused to tell us.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThe investigation was compromised. That’s all I was told except that we’re on our own this go-round, and Mr. Tucker will expect quick results.”
    John said, “But you’ve tried before, Buford, and you’ve come up empty-handed. What makes you think you’ll find anything new this time?”
    â€œNot a darned thing. I still believe that our Vernon Moore is the sole survivor of the Lady Be Good . There’s no other rational explanation.”
    â€œYou call that rational? He can’t be a day over forty-five, fifty tops. Are you saying that he’s not a normal human being like the rest of us?”
    â€œI wouldn’t be the first to suggest the possibility. By the time we’re done, you may be in the same camp.”
    Bless his heart, my son-in-law replied, “No I won’t, Buford, not again. Whatever Mr. Moore is or isn’t, he’s an honorable man and a friend of my family. I won’t sign on to any mission that could run contrary to his interests. You’re on your own.”
    â€œI’m on my own? Did you tell Mr. Tucker?”
    â€œI made the decision about two minutes ago. I’ll tell him in the morning.”
    â€œBut he’ll fire you in a heartbeat.”
    â€œHe doesn’t have that many heartbeats left. If he wants to use one of his last to fire me, then I’ll find a way to live with it. The question is whether he will.”
    â€œDon’t count Clem Tucker out, John. If he lives, you won’t want to be on his bad side.”
    John Smith is long and lithe; the closest thing I have ever seen to a cougar dressed in black. Buford is more closely related to the marshmallow, at least in a physical sense.
    John stood, which meant he towered over the smaller, rounder man. “I pick my sides without fear,” he said. “You should try it sometime.”
    L ORETTA P ARSONS M ILLET hasn’t knocked on my door since Methuselah’s bar mitzvah. She just wanders back to my kitchen like it’s her house, which is exactly how it should be. I had finished with the vegetables by then and the pot roast was safely in the oven, so I was slicing bananas, oranges, and mangoes for a fruit salad. Here’s another hint: add orange juice to your fruit salad when you’re done making it up. It will keep the bananas from turning brown for hours. You might