Tom Lowe - The Black Bullet

“I don’t want to sound crude, but do the doctors know how much time she has?”

“A year ago, they gave her three to six months. She’s still here. You go out there, slay a few dragons at sea, and then bring her something our government has refused to and what none of her doctors could.”

“What do I bring her?”

“Hope.”

“Please, I don’t want you or your grandmother to have any illusions about what was found in that submarine. Today, a young woman died. She was about the same age as your grandfather at his death. A German U-boat and a deadly cargo seem to be the cosmic path between the two, but like any theory of the universe, I don’t know what, how, or if it’s connected.”

“Hope is eternal and universal.” Abby pointed to a black-and-white framed photograph of a young man smiling and dressed in an Army uniform. “That’s my grandpa. He looks too young there to be a grandfather, but Grandma was carrying his baby, my mother, when that picture was taken. Mom and I should have had the privilege of knowing him, and that sweet lady out there still misses him and deserves to know who killed him.”

“I agree, Abby. But, two canisters of enriched uranium are missing. A kid I gave a summer job to is being held hostage. I don’t know if coming here tonight may be placing you and your grandmother in danger, too. You need to be on alert”

“What do you mean?”

“I was followed earlier. I lost them, but they could be back.”

“Do you believe anyone followed you here tonight?”

“I don’t think so. But, nevertheless, I want you and your grandmother to be very aware of your surroundings. They may have tortured Jason, and he could have mentioned you and your grandmother by name. He heard me tell the story of what happened to your grandfather.”

Abby hugged her arms. A shiver went through her body. “Let’s join Grandma.”

Glenda looked up as Abby and O’Brien appeared and said, “I was just listening to a nightingale across the yard in the live oak. The male nightingale is the singer, you know? When most birds are long into their nightly roost, he’s throwing his head back like the fine Italian tenor Caruso.” She paused and listened. “Hear him?”

“I haven’t heard a nightingale in a while,” O’Brien said. “At my place on the river, I hear owls at night.” O’Brien could smell gardenias blooming in the yard, the scent musky and yet feminine. He looked at Abby’s striking profile under the soft light, and admired her dedication and love for her grandmother.

She sat down by Glenda. “Grandma, Sean was just telling me about a lot of the things … really bad things that have happened since he found the U-boat. We, you and I, just need to be careful who we speak to and where we go.”

“What do you mean?”

“Glenda,” O’Brien began, “there are some very forceful people who want to get their hands on weapons-grade uranium. Nick and I hooked our anchor on the past and may have opened a door leading back to your husband. I feel responsible for what’s happened the last six days.”

“I hope you can find these people.”

“I’m going to try.”

“Maybe, when you do, in some way, it’ll shed light on a sad, dark place in my heart.”

“How do we exhume my grandfather’s body?” asked Abby.

O’Brien said, “I have a detective friend at the sheriff’s department. He’ll ask for a court order. Then the medical examiner will have a look.”

“How long will this take?” asked Glenda.

“It can be expedited, done within couple of days.”

O’Brien stood. “Thank you both for dinner.”

Glenda smiled and coughed. “It’s getting a little cool. I think I’ll go inside and read some before bed.” O’Brien opened the French doors and Glenda entered her home just as the nightingale began another song. “Good night, sweet bird, sing one more for me,” she said, vanishing into the house.

“Let me walk you to your Jeep,” Abby said

“That’s not necessary. I’ll just walk around the side yard and be on my way.”

“Please, I insist.” She strolled around a birdbath and the blooming bougainvillea.

“Wait, you are a stubborn lady.”

She paused, looked back, and smiled. “Yes, yes I am. Now, are you going to walk with me or stand there listening to the bird sing?”

O’Brien grinned. “What I’m going to do is walk you to your front door. When you go inside, make sure everything’s locked and the alarm’s set.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“Yes.”

At the front door she said, “Thank you for being such a good listener around my grandmother. I’m here as often as I can. She gets lonely.”

“I enjoyed her company, and yours.”

“I guess this is where we say goodnight.” She paused and looked up at O’Brien, the smolder of a three-quarter moon casting them in a serene glow. “Thank you for doing what you didn’t have to do. After all these years, you come along and really give a damn. Hopefully, you’re the one to right this wrong. I admire that, Sean.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Yes, you have. You’ve given her hope. Tonight, she’ll sleep better.”

“Goodnight, Abby.”

As O’Brien started to leave, she said, “Sean ….”

He turned back to her. “Yes?”

She laughed nervously. “Maybe it’s the wine … maybe it’s the damn nightingale singing his silly head off … or maybe I’m just afraid something will happen to you out there tonight. Please be very careful.”

O’Brien was silent. He thought he heard a car engine on the next street.

She said, “Let me go with you. I can help-”

“No. It’s too dangerous, and you need to stay with your grandmother.”

“Matanzas is an inlet where the sands are always shifting due to the swift currents and the fact that there are no manmade jetties or embankments. Matanzas Inlet also has an evil past. My grandfather saw it. Between the location and those cruel people out there, I don’t want anything to happen to you either.”

O’Brien drove away from Glenda Lawson’s home and checked his mirrors. Nothing. No sign of car lights. No movement. He called Dave Collins. “How’s Max?”

“She’s lying on the sofa watching the news with me.”

“Can you keep an eye on her a little longer?”

“She’s not a bother. Nick wants to take her up to the Tiki Bar. He says women approach him when Max is sitting in his lap.”

“Is Nick there?”

“He’s in the galley cooking and drinking.”

“I hate to ask you to watch Max and Nick at the same time, but-”

“We’ll stay up talking. Are you going to make it back here for some food?”

“Just ate. I’m driving to Matanzas Inlet.”

“Sean, it’s dark. What the hell are you going to find in the dark?”

“The light, Dave, I hope. Now I have a better idea of what Billy Lawson saw that night when the Germans and Japanese came ashore after he spotted the U-boat.”

“Sean-”

“I’m going to call Dan Grant at Volusia SO and ask him to get a court order to exhume Billy Lawson’s body.”

“Between all the federal and local agencies, there must be a hundred people chasing leads while you’re chasing ghosts.”

“What’s Eric Hunter chasing?”

“Sean, you have him wrong.”

“It’s not a question of right or wrong, it’s grasping what motivates him.”

“What do you mean?”

“If he’s in as deep as you say, and he’s as good as you say he is, where are his allegiances? He may be legit … or he may be ready to score a crime of global consequences.” O’Brien could hear Dave exhale slowly.

“I hope you’re wrong about him,” Dave said.