07.2 Whiting of Indiana

1688 Parkview Avenue faced a lovely street with short trees on both sides, lawns covered of carpet grass. This house looked much better than Sidney Martin’s. She rang and waited, her coat on her arm and the book in her hand, bag and camera on her shoulder.

A young man appeared behind a tree, “Hello!”

“Is anyone living here?” asked Natalia.

“Not quite but that’s my place.”

“Are you Mark?”

He nodded, “Who are you?”

“I am Natalia Phol. I have to ask about Mrs Cindy Lockwood.”

“What’s this about?” He was twenty-six years old and a handsome person.

“I’m sorry to disturb you but if we can, I want to ask a few questions.”

“Yes!”

“Is nobody living here since she passed away?”

“No one is there. I am thinking to move since I’m getting married this fall. I live with an uncle over there on the opposite side of the road.”

“Were you here when she died?”

“I was in the military. I came for the funeral.”

“Is it possible for me to see this house? It is very important.”

“Well!” he thought, “I go fetch the keys!”

“That’s very kind of you.”

In a moment, she was standing inside the house. All sofas hauled in one corner and covered with plastics. “Wow!” exclaimed Natalia, “Is this how it was for the last six years?”

“Pretty much,” confirmed Mark.

“I’ll take some photographs, okay!”

He nodded.

Then she voiced, “You know, it is not going to be easy if I say, but I want to see her bedroom and Mark, tell me if you, how to say, if you felt anything peculiar around her passing away.”

“When I arrived and had a chance to see mom’s face, we noticed a blemish on her nape, left side, a bluish mark, so concealed with the linen behind the lid of the casket. We don’t know what it was.”

“Left side?” she scribbled.

“Yes.”

“Can I see the room?”

“Please step in without shoes.”

This room was covered of white cloth, the bed, furniture and wardrobe. Natalia took photographs.

“This may sound a bit strange,” said Mark, “but my mom never changes her uniform here. She leaves her nursing clothes and attires in the dressing room before coming in here. Weeks after her funeral, I noticed a nurse dress left in this wardrobe.”

“Is it there?” asked Natalia.

“Yes, it’s still there. We touched nothing.”

“I must see, please! This is important!”

Mark and Natalia removed the tapes from the floor to cascade the cladding and open the wardrobe. In the haste, in that little tight skirt, she slipped to disclose her manhood. Simultaneously, she caught that smitten look on his face.

“Sorry!” she couldn’t hide that grin on her face.

Mark opened the wardrobe slightly and held the clothes parted with a white nurse uniform slipped in the middle and hung on a cloth hanger. Natalia continued to take photographs.

“Alright. Now I’d like to see this dressing room and the kitchen,” she demanded.

Natalia took photographs of the dressing room and the kitchen. All covered in white clothes and plastics. Once again, they undid the tapes from the floor. She took photographs of the little closet that contained Cindy Lockwood’s nursing attires.

She asked, “Does she keep a photo album?”

“Albums, jewellery and belongings are with my sisters.”

Where’s your father?”

“He died in Vietnam. I was ten.”

“How many sisters?”

“Two,” said Mark.

“You’ve been of great help,” she passed her card, “I don’t know how to thank you. If you ever come to San Diego, call this number.”

She drove to Forsythe Park. At that time of the year, grass was green and trees covered of leaves. Natalia noticed those antennas hidden in the foliage. She recalled this location caught on a photograph in the camera case. There must be a connection. She picked a pack of prints from the case, carefully not to touch anything else in an overwhelming excitement.

Here, a low-lying natural vegetation and shrubs along with dispersed deciduous trees gave a breadth of view towards Wolf Lake where white pelicans, swans and great egrets bred. An outdoor spot for picnicking or dog walking, children’s park, sports and fresh breeze – quiet, creepy and peaceful. This park was under a restoration scheme. Wolf Lake was a military controlled zone during the Cold War where they tested Nike missiles.

A couple of photographs in the pack exhibited a quiet scene of the park in autumn. Natalia couldn’t grasp anything peculiar to connect with. There was a car with red tail lights taken in long shot. Those two prints were creased because they were folded down the middle at some time. Paper sizes of the prints varied. Maybe, ‘Kit’ used a different lab. By now she began to think that the person behind the camera was Heidelinde Klutz; alias Linda Linz – she dubbed as ‘Kit’.

She thought she was getting somewhere but she got stuck in a park.

 

Natalia drove to Hammond City. Parked her car behind Carmen Law Office and walked towards the unit. She captured the surrounding in frames. A low shed with two grid windows and a door facing Hohman Avenue. A huge tree stood behind the office and a house to the left. She wasn’t expecting it like this. Nobody would dare keep important documents in a shed like that but perhaps in the house standing beside.

Late afternoon, she climbed Indianapolis 16 and drove in the shade. Sunlight fell on the other side of the broad straight highway. Low buildings, flat land and less trees. She drove towards the intersection.

Natalia booked a comfortable room at the Inn of Hammond.

She carried the camera case in her hand. She was tired after a long day of driving and walking. Once inside the room, she locked the door and opened the case. Her fingers scooped precisely the envelope holding the B&W large prints of the two women. One of them was Cindy Lockwood. The other would have to be Laura Hudson. She frowned. The clippings from The Hammond Times read both died of sudden cardiac arrest. To have their photos in the camera case…it’s murder.

Even at this late hour, Natalia was allowed to get into the swimming pool and she was the only one there.

Lying in bed she thought over the beautiful cities and sights through the countryside. She had never been to the north or the Midwest. There was no point of going to New York but she’d not be able to come this far again. Natalia made up her mind to make it to New York in three days. She was in no hurry. She journeyed so far without a weather hazard though she heard about tornadoes and storm approaching on television. Now that it was getting colder in the nights.

She got up from bed. Pulled on a robe and went to the reception. It was quiet, lit bright and nobody there behind the wood brick counter. She went out and paused to look at the traffic lights on the highways. Parking lots on both sides of the inn and an early dawn of rainclouds lit the sky. There was no place to go and cold out there.