Ghost Writer(5)

The documentary crew were early for our one o’clock appointment in ops. Location director, Tim Neville, was nothing if not gung-ho. Twenty-something, a product of the digital age, he used the lingo of celluloid and would probably invite us to view the rushes or dailies at some point. If there was a national average, Tim was it. His one distinctive feature was his eyes; they protruded slightly and gave him a default expression of rapt attention. Maybe that helped him get the job.

Gravell helped set up. Then he introduced us to our crewman of the day who would make sure we were taken care of and stayed out of trouble. Meanwhile, I called up my electronic notes and arranged my hard copies while lighting levels and camera angles were adjusted, then readjusted when Tim decided he wanted me to be in the long shots.

I was sent to join Reuben and Lily in the user-designated area that Production Assistant Yvonne was using as a makeup station. Yvonne was the younger sister of the senior cameraman, Zoe. Zoe was on Camera One, focussed on the interviewees. Camera Two, operated by Bruno, was used for the long shots where I would be seen. Add a gaffer named Chuck and you had the entire documentary crew.

Finally Tim was satisfied with the set up. Chuck stepped between us and the cameras and snapped the clapperboard. We were rolling.

“My name is Reuben Dawes. My father was Lieutenant Aaron Dawes, the station's medical officer and marine biologist.”

I looked between the photo on my screen and the man sitting kitty corner to me. There was a strong family resemblance between father and son. Both had angular, Semitic features, dark curly hair, and near-black eyes. Reuben was about the same age as his father had been at the time of the photo, with about the same number of laugh and worry lines around his eyes and mouth.

“I was thirteen years old when my father was reported missing. For years I've been making a pest of myself asking questions about him. Who was Aaron Dawes? What happened to him? Where is he now? Finally, I hope to get some answers. Maybe I should be solemn. Right now I feel stoked!”

I grinned. Reuben had a successful law practice, and I suspected he won clients, if not cases, on the basis of his smile and infectious optimism.

“Tell me what you remember about your father.”

His smile turned wistful. “He laughed a lot. He made silly jokes and liked to play. When he was home, he'd read me stories at night, putting on funny voices. He would take Mom out dancing.”

In a phone interview, I talked to Reuben's mother, Lorraine. When Dawes was declared dead, she married a dentist. I don’t know if he danced, but he came home every night.

“When did you decide to investigate your father's disappearance?”

“For a long time I hoped he'd just show up. When my mother told me that she was going to remarry, I told her she couldn't. I was angry. I eventually saw that my stepfather was a good guy and that he was good for my mother. I figured my dad would understand as long as I didn't give up on him. I studied law just so I could learn how to untangle the government red tape and get answers. The first thing I did was find out who else was missing, who they were survived by, and what they were doing. That's where Lil came in.” Reuben gave his wife's hand a squeeze. It was both affectionate and a cue for her to take over.

“Fifteen years ago Reuben hired me to do some work for him in my capacity as a private investigator. His mother gave us our first lead. Norma Shore was one of the few Navy wives that Lorraine stayed in contact with after remarrying. Norma died years ago. She never remarried. I managed to track down the daughters, but only one of them would speak to us.”

Lily paused to give a small sigh. “We talked to Shore's youngest daughter, Misty. My first thought was, what were her parents thinking? It turned out her given name was Michelle, for her father. Though she didn't hold out much hope, she agreed to join the survivor support group Reuben was starting. She gave us her mother's address book.”

Reuben put up a hand and cut in. “Unlike my mother, Mrs. Shore tried to stay in contact with the families.”

“It was quite an investment, hiring a private detective. What made you choose Lily?”

Reuben affected a film noir detective voice. “She was cheap, and I didn't have much money. She also had legs up to here and every inch was tanned and smoothly muscled. I was at that stage in a young man's life when, next to finding my father, I was obsessed with sex.”

Lil laughed then quickly returned to point, outlining how she found the other family members of the lost men. I knew most of it. This was strictly for the audience. “The really tough ones were Lieutenant William Minton and Chief John Margolo. Both were bachelors, good friends of Shore and Dawes, and often invited to joint family social gatherings. Margolo always came with the date de jour. Minton often got fixed up with someone's friend. Reuben contacted Margolo's sister, Rose, before we met. She contributed money to the project in memory of her brother.”

“Money that mostly went to you, Lil,” said Reuben

“A gal’s gotta make a living. Anyway, when I contacted her, she was a little more forthcoming. Her brother was an engineer by profession and an adventurer at heart. Ashore, he was a trouble magnet.”

“He was always good to us. He never showed up without some kind of gift for us kids and he told great stories. He was like an uncle.” Reuben patted his wife’s hand. “Even Lil wasn't able to find any family for Will Minton. His parents passed away when he was in his teens. He left no wife or girlfriend behind and his best friends disappeared with him. The Navy was his only home. He had risen up through the ranks to become Shore's second in command. He was a nice guy—a bit of a plodder.”