Manhunt. Volume 14, Number 1, February/March, 1966

“My sister,” Cal began, “was always pretty wild. But when she began hanging around the soldiers from Camp Pickett she really cut loose. There was talk that she’d even married one of the soldiers during a weekend spree that ended up in Maryland. But nothing ever came out about it and I’d always supposed it was just talk. My sister never acknowledged the rumor. I asked her about it once but she just laughed at me. Then soon after that she ran off with a fellow from town. Hugh Gaskins. They sent word they’d gotten married, he went into the Marines, and was killed somewhere in the South Pacific. I was overseas myself at that time. My parents died while I was gone and when I came back I’d lost all track of Thelma. About eight years ago I got a letter from her. She’d tracked me down through some friends at home. I heard from her once in awhile then and a little over two years ago she wrote from Akron. Soon after that I went up to see her. That was the last time I saw her alive. Not too long after I visited her I got a letter from her asking if I knew Charles Henry Lane. She said he’d been up there for a convention in the hotel where she was working and she’d noticed on the register that he was from here. I think when I answered her letter I gave her a brief sketch of Lane, pointing out that he was quite a big man here in town. I thought no more about it. I didn’t even remember the incident when I saw her out there in the silo the other morning. But when Clyde came to me with the news that Lane had been at Camp Pickett I began to put two and two together.”

“So I released Cal and we went looking for Lane,” Clyde continued. “And of course we couldn’t find him. I’d already called the car rental agency in the capitol and found out that the clerk there had identified your picture of Lane. On a hunch I decided to drive toward the city.”

“Lane gave us the rest of the story on the way back here,” Clyde began after another sip of his coffee.

“About two years ago Lane was in Akron for a convention. Thelma was working at the hotel where he stayed. She recognized him and made herself known. Lane admitted he’d never divorced her. She’d disappeared soon after the wedding, Lane went overseas, and by the time he got back he’d almost forgotten about marrying her. And since no one knew of the marriage he ignored it. By then he’d met the future Mrs. Lane, of course, so he was even more eager to forget Thelma. Soon after he saw Thelma in Akron she began blackmailing him. This went on about two years and it began to get a little difficult for him to give her the sums she demanded. He kept stalling on her last demand. She threatened to come down here and he told her to come ahead. He’d be waiting for her in a car at the bus station. By then, of course, he’d decided the only thing to do was to kill her. He left early Sunday for the convention in Cincinnati, checked in there at the hotel, then caught the bus to the capitol where he rented the car, using fake credentials he’d fixed up. By seven-fifteen Monday morning he was waiting at the bus station for Thelma. He drove out to the Banning farm. She thought they were going to talk things over. The house was locked up so they went out to the barn. He strangled her, threw her body into the silo, and tossed some loose straw from the barn in on top of her. Then he drove back to the capitol, turned the car in, and caught the bus back to Cincinnati. He figured the body’d be safe in the silo until he could come back and bury her somewhere on the farm. But he didn’t know about Clem’s lease.”

“He knew Matt had got Thelma and the car in the background of one of the pictures Matt took that morning but since he figured her body’d never be discovered he didn’t worry about it.”

“And if he hadn’t gotten panicky and tried to steal the picture we’d never have dreamed I had it,” I added.

“Lane thought he was in the clear with Cal’s arrest,” Clyde continued. “He thought the picture would be ignored now. He knew we’d sent a man to Columbus but he was sure we’d never connect him with the car. But then he happened to see you and Anita heading out of town this afternoon. He decided to follow you to see where you were going. When you kept on towards the city he kept behind you all the way.”

“Then I suppose he saw us enter the car rental agency?” I asked.

Clyde nodded. “And saw you come out. You were carrying a package and by your expressions he was sure the clerk had identified his picture.”

“I’ll bet this beats New York excitement,” I said to Anita as we left Clyde’s office. She nodded in agreement.

“I think I’ve had about all the excitement I’ll need for awhile.”

“Say, what is this,” I countered. “Aren’t you eager to get back to gay, mad New York?”

She smiled sweetly at me. “Not right now, Matt. We’ll give it another week and then we’ll see.”

Suddenly I felt about ten years younger. I had a hunch that other week would be a long one, and that Anita wouldn’t be going back to New York for a long, long time.