CHAPTER 4
All is Revealed
Early the next morning, the brothers assembled their facts on a large sheet of white paper. They would need to present a clear picture if they were to go to the police expecting to have their theory taken seriously.
If what they reckoned was correct, then the symbols carved in the stone as well as the cigarette case with his initials on it, all but proved that Bill Smith had been up the valley around the time of Tamehana’s disappearance, despite his adamant denial. Bill was a smoker and after the police found a roll-your-own cigarette butt near Tamehana’s dwelling, the need to distance himself from these items had led to Bill swearing he only smoked tailor-mades. But the old papers and tobacco in the initialled silver case suggested that was a lie, and if his fingerprints were found on the inside of the case this would be proof enough that it belonged to Bill. Simione added this to the page.
“But,” interrupted Dan-Dan playing the devil’s advocate, “Bill could say Tamehana had stolen the case, that it was one of the things that went missing, along with his gun.”
Simione had to agree.
The .303 shell that was found could have belonged to Bill but could not be checked for markings on the cartridge because, according to Bill, his WW1 Lee-Enfield rifle had mysteriously disappeared.
Also, no corpse had ever been found.
The three boys thought they had built a pretty convincing case against Bill, albeit circumstantial, and it still seemed highly likely that Bill Smith had done away with Tamehana Tito.
At 10am the boys arrived for their appointment with Senior Sergeant Ken Johnson. They received a jovial greeting from Ken. “You three young sleuths should join the force and save me a whole lot of trouble solving all the local crime,” he teased.
“Any news on the cigarette case?” asked Simi, hoping for instant confirmation that it belonged to Bill.
“I’m afraid it’s a bit soon for any results, Simione, but they are working on it,” reassured Ken, understanding how keen the boy was to have results.
Ken’s light hearted demeanour slowly shifted to a more serious and attentive one as the boys told their story of finding the pictograph.
“You know,” he commented when the boys finished their account of things, “we still have the problem of no body and with Bill in a rest home, near to death, there are no other living relatives to confirm the cigarette case is really his. Also, the message on the stone is pretty speculative to say the least – it wouldn’t hold out in a court of law. So even though you have put together a pretty convincing case, I’m afraid we are really no closer than we were forty years ago.”
Simione, Roscoe and Dan-Dan couldn’t help but show their disappointment. They were at a loss to know what to say or what to do next. The excitement and expectation that they had all the answers … then to be struck a crushing blow … their findings weren’t enough.
The office staff in the police station had been totally captivated by what was going on and even they were crestfallen.
Roscoe suddenly blurted out, “What about a death bed confession? You did say that old Bill was in a home and will die soon – why not take all the evidence and present it to him and see what he has to say?”
Sergeant Ken Johnson was caught on the hop. “Well, I don’t know,” he murmured. “I don’t know if we really have enough hard facts to justify that. The old boy’s pretty close to dying so I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do.“
“Isn’t that exactly why you should do it?” pressed Dan-Dan in an almost indignant tone.
To him, this was precisely the right time. No court would lock Bill up in jail if he was about to die.
“To be perfectly honest … “ said Ken, but then he hesitated. He seemed to change his mind. He stood up straight. “Why not?” he announced. “What’s there to lose?”
With these words, the whole atmosphere of the station changed to one of eagerness and anticipation.
“I will get in touch with the rest home today and we’ll go from there.”
Ken was now ready to lead the charge. This possibility of a death-bed confession would be a first for him despite his years of experience in the force and now he was almost as positive about the idea as were the boys.
A reluctant senior manager of the local rest home finally agreed to let Senior Sergeant Ken Johnson talk to the rapidly failing Bill Smith. She was adamant that Bill shouldn’t be stressed nor forced into anything he didn’t want to do. Also, she insisted, she and Bill’s own doctor would be present to make sure these rules were abided. The sergeant hung up the phone, pleased that he had taken this step.
On the day of the arranged interview, Bill’s doctor, Sharyn the rest home manager and Sergeant Johnson met outside Bill’s room. In the last stages of terminal cancer, he had a room to himself. According to the doctor, at times he was barely aware of his surroundings but occasionally he was surprisingly alert. The success of this investigation would depend entirely on his mental state at this moment.
The sergeant’s chances didn’t look too good when he entered the dimly lit room. The old man looked grey and gaunt. His breathing was steady but barely audible as he lay there with his eyes closed, seemingly unaware of the world around him. The sergeant sat down beside Bill’s bed and turned to the manager and doctor, seeking their permission to proceed.
At their nod, he leaned close to the old man. “Bill, can you hear me?” he asked in a hushed voice watching Bill for a reaction. He repeated his question, but there was again no response. Ken looked to the doctor for guidance. With another nod from the doctor, Ken asked again. This time the old man turned his head towards Ken and opened his eyes, then he nodded. The relief in the room was tangible and Ken, to make sure Bill understood this was not a social call but an inquiry from the local police, introduced himself as Senior Sergeant Ken Johnson and quickly followed up with the vital questions.
“Think back forty years, Bill. Did you have anything to do with Tamehana Tito’s disappearance?”
There was an instant reaction from Bill this time; he turned smartly and looked hard at the senior sergeant sitting by his bed. It was obvious that something of real significance had been asked of him. He slowly nodded again.
After a small pause, Ken Johnson said, “We have found your cigarette case, Bill, up the valley near the shelter. There was a note left by Tamehana, too.”
He stopped to let the information sink in and had no intention of elaborating too much on the cryptogram and its tentative connection. He was just letting Bill know enough to suggest that there was new evidence to make the police feel very confident he was involved.
He asked the vital question.
“Did you murder Tamehana?”
This time there was no movement at all from Bill. A long silence prevailed as Ken turned time and time again to the manager and doctor to check they were happy to let him continue.
Slowly Bill turned his head, this time it was towards the window to where Sharyn the rest home manager and the doctor stood. Sharyn smiled at Bill and came across to take his hand in hers.
“It’s good for your soul, Bill, to rid yourself of any burden from the past, you know that. More importantly, you could bring closure for Tamehana and his family. It’s time to let go, Bill. Time is running out.”
Bill kept his eyes on Sharyn for some time, then he closed them and seemed to drift out of consciousness. He had terminated the interview.
Ken stood up and shrugged his shoulders as he looked at the other two people standing in the room. He moved quietly across to the door and opened it to leave. As the manager, doctor and Ken walked into the corridor, Ken glanced back for one last look at Bill. To his surprise Bill was now staring intently at the trio. With a feeble gesture he signalled for Ken to return. Quickly Ken re-entered the room and in a few strides was over at Bill’s side. Sharyn and the doctor were just as quick in returning to Bill’s bed in the corner of the room. Sharyn again took his old gnarled hand holding it
tucked between her two.
Bill looked up at the faces hovering above him in the half light. Almost inaudibly, Bill simply said “Yes” and with that he sank into a deep slumber, a slumber from which he would never awaken.
Sharyn leant over and kissed the old man on the forehead. She arranged his hands over his chest and stood back to wipe the tears from her eyes. Bill’s doctor came forward and felt for a pulse in Bill’s stringy brown wrist. One shake of the head said it all.
Sergeant Ken Johnson whispered a thank you to both of Bill’s carers and slipped out of the room. He now had what he had wanted for years and with two witnesses to the confession in the room, he felt confident that he had all he needed to close the case at last.