Chapter 15
Fifteen
ANSWERS & KISSES
As soon as she got to her hotel, Goldie went to work.
The first thing she did was go up to her room and write herself some instructions in all caps that read: SEPARATE THE SUICIDES FROM THE FAMILIAR SONG LYRICS!
SEPARATE THE TIME TRAVEL FROM WHAT YOU SAW IN THE MINE!
Then, she wrote out a list of questions to help identify possible connections. Questions like:
· Where was the headquarters of Maynard Mining?
· Are they still in business?
· Why did they leave Sparkledove?
· What happened to the mineral rights?
· Who made the holes in tunnel “22” and why?
· What was in that envelope given to the mayor?
And since she saw Eli Johnson and the mayor’s two tough-looking associates, Tully and Crosby, cordoning off streets together, she wrote one more question:
· Does Banyan have Sheriff Johnson in his back pocket?
She figured that if she could get the answers to these questions, a lot of other facts would start to fall into place. This has to be my mission! She thought to herself. Otherwise, what am I doin’ here?”
Realizing she still had time to catch the morning bus to Denver, she changed into a dress, made sure she had her pencils and notebook, then grabbed her overcoat and gloves.
She grabbed a cup of coffee for the road from the restaurant, returned the flashlight she’d borrowed, then looked in the Denver phone book to see if there was an address for Maynard Mining.
There wasn’t, so she got the address of another mining company, as well as the address of the Denver Mining Museum.
She also wanted to return to the Denver library and verify a couple of things she’d read about Sparkledove.
She caught the bus just before it left at 9:10 a.m., ready to research.
First, she went to the Big D Mining Company, flashed her business card, and met with a man named Matt Colvin.
He was very knowledgeable about the state’s mining history and informed Goldie that Maynard Mining had gone out of business in 1930 after nearly eighty years.
Colvin also verified facts that Goldie had read during her first visit to Denver.
The most important of these was in 1882, when new, larger deposits of both gold and silver were discovered closer to Denver, and it was simply more profitable to mine those deposits than the remote and harsher location of Sparkledove.
Large and smaller operations may have moved away, but that didn’t necessarily mean Maynard’s mine in Sparkledove was totally played out, as both Charles Banyan and Eli Johnson had said.
In fact, after meeting with Colvin, Goldie returned to the Denver Library to reread the articles about Sparkledove.
The articles only said that companies moved on to more lucrative opportunities.
She concluded that that could certainly mean there was more silver to be found.
But so many years had passed that nobody in town realized it.
Next, she went to the Denver Mining Museum.
She learned that the usual way mining companies negotiated for mineral rights in a populated area was to contact homeowners and offer them a lease contract where they would receive a small percentage of profits for any ore mined on their land or transported underneath it.
According to the law, a landowner’s land was his or hers, whether silver was found six inches or six hundred feet below the ground.
So, standard contracts were offered to homeowners who, in most cases, were only too happy to lease their mineral rights since they had no way of finding, extracting, or separating the ore.
To them, it was free money. If a mining company ceased operations for a certain period of time or went out of business, it invalidated all leases.
But the best way to assure absolute mining rights was to purchase the homes outright.
She also learned that one way to find additional veins of silver in a mine was to drill small holes, then extract samples and look for silver ore.
Once a sample of silver ore was found and weighed, the size of the vein could be determined, and a likely yield from the vein could be estimated.
Such estimates held no guarantees, but estimates done by geological engineers did provide circumstantial evidence of potential wealth.
She asked someone at the museum about the current price of silver.
Since she was used to double-checking Markie’s books, she was a whiz with numbers and did some quick calculations.
At a 1942 price of $1.29 an ounce, a ton of silver was worth $41,280.
00. Five tons would be worth $206,400.00.
Adjusting for inflation, she figured that would be worth over $3,200,000.
00 in present-day money. And when one considered that gold was often found with silver, very serious money could be made, depending on the tonnage, if there was a forgotten vein in tunnel “22.”
She returned to the Denver bus terminal at 3:15 p.m., where she stopped and chatted with her friend Gerome, the maintenance man. Fortunately, she didn’t encounter his irritating, racist boss, Bradley Hammersville.
The day had been very productive, and she’d gotten several answers to her questions.
It was about 4:15 in the afternoon when Goldie was walking from the bus stop back to the Sparkledove Arms. A little to her surprise, as she was approaching the lobby door, Eli Johnson came out of it.
He was wearing his usual tan uniform and brown suede jacket and gave her a nod.
She wasn’t particularly pleased to see him.
Partly because he’d refused to let her go see the Maynard mining operation, partly because he thought her queries about the covered bridge, Claude Bolton, and Bucky Eggleston were off track with her reason for being in town, and partly because she’d seen him associating with two men that she instinctively knew were goons for the mayor.
“Howdy,” he greeted in his Gene Audrey way.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” she asked, unenthused.
“I was just looking for you. Took your advice and had a chat with Martha Eggleston. She told me about all the coffee Bucky had been drinking the day he died and how he hated decaf.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She also told me where their wrecked car was. So, I drove out to the junkyard and looked it over. Saw a couple of things that were interesting.”
“Like what?”
“His front wheels were turned to the right, like he swerved to avoid something. When his vehicle went off the road, it rolled several times before stopping. So that could’ve caused the wheels to be in that position. But…”
“But what?”
“Bucky’s car is a light tan color, and there’s about a three to four-inch scratch of black paint on the driver’s side door.
His wheels were turned right, and the scratch is on the left.
Meaning, it’s possible another vehicle went over the centerline, he swerved to avoid the oncoming vehicle, and as they passed, the other vehicle grazed Bucky’s car.
That swerve could’ve been the impetus for all those rolls when he went off the road. ”
She looked at him, surprised. “And the state police missed all this?”
“I went to the outpost that handled the call that night and spoke to a sergeant. He said there were a lot of things that could’ve caused the dark scratch on that door. A rock or a fallen tree limb that the car rolled over.”
“But you didn’t buy that?”
“No, ma’am. I used to work at a body shop in high school to make a little extra money, and I know black paint from another vehicle when I see it.”
“Did you tell the sergeant this?”
“Yep.”
“What’d he say?”
“He said I was young and he understood why I’d like to sink my teeth into some real police work, considering I was the sheriff of a sleepy little tourist town like Sparkledove.”
She looked intently at him for a moment.
“That’s it? That’s all he said?”
“That’s it.”
“Un-freakin’-believable!” she exclaimed. “So, he’s not doin’ nothin’?”
“The official conclusion is it was a single car accident,” he confirmed. “But I think there’s a good possibility another vehicle was involved. How and why, I don’t know.”
She thought for a moment. “So, what’s your next move?”
The lawman rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure I have a next move.
The incident didn’t happen in my jurisdiction.
I shared my findings with the state police and could maybe talk with Martha about ‘em. Then, she and her lawyer could pursue it if they want. Beyond that, all I can do is keep an eye open in town for a black vehicle with about a three to four-inch scratch of light-tan paint on the driver’s side.
If another car was involved, it might be local. But that’s a big might.”
She pursed her lips, frustrated. “If that’s all you can do, why’d you tell me this in the first place?”
“You asked me to talk to Martha and I said I would, then I looked into things as best I could.”
She nodded, reluctantly acknowledging his efforts, but was still suspicious of him. He glanced over his shoulder back at the hotel.
“You cold? Y-you wanna cup of coffee, or hot chocolate, or something?”
“No,” she said, moving past him. “I gotta go. But thanks.”
At about 7:50 that evening, Goldie, now back in slacks and her new jacket and stocking cap, decided to go for a walk.
It was snowing outside, and other than flurries, this was the first substantial snowfall she’d seen since she’d arrived in town.
She wanted to be somewhere with lots of sky around her, considering she started the day in the bowels of an old mine.
She’d packed a lot into this day and was tired.
She wasn’t bored anymore by a lack of internet, social media, or TV.