Quantum

22

‘Kilkenny residence,’ Audrey said, answering the phone.

‘Ma’am, this is Detective Brian Ptashnik of the Ann Arbor Police Department. Is Martin Kilkenny there?’

‘No, he’s out running some errands with our grandson. This is his wife, Audrey. Is there something I can help you with, Detective?’

‘I’m afraid not, Mrs Kilkenny. We just need to speak with your husband. Could you have him contact me as soon as he returns?’

‘Certainly, or if you like, I could call my grandson on his cell phone.’

‘I’d appreciate that, ma’am.’

As Nolan and his grandfather walked out of the Dexter Mill with some supplies, the phone clipped to the waist of his jeans purred. He set the large bag of dog food down and answered the call.

‘Nolan, is Martin with you?’ Audrey asked abruptly.

‘Yeah, Grandma, he’s right here. Did he forget something?’

‘No, dear. I just need to speak with him.’

Realizing that something was wrong, Nolan took the bags from his grandfather’s arms and handed him the phone.

‘Hello, Audrey.’

‘Martin, I just received a call from the Ann Arbor police — a Detective Brian Ptashnik. He needs to speak with you.’

‘A detective? I wonder whatever for. Did he say what about?’

‘No. He just said that you might be able to help them out with something and that he’d appreciate a call from you.’

‘Looks like I’ll just have to call him and find out. What’s his number?’

‘What was that all about, Grandpa?’ Nolan asked after Martin ended the call.

Martin momentarily ignored the question as he quickly dialed the number before forgetting it.

‘It appears the police in Ann Arbor want to have a word with me. Why don’t you finish loading the stuff in your truck while I give this detective a call and see what he wants.’

As Nolan opened the back of his SUV, Martin waited for his call to be answered.

‘Major Crimes Unit. Detective Ptashnik speaking.’

‘Detective, this is Martin Kilkenny. I’m returning your call. What can I do for you?’

‘Well, sir, first off, are you the Martin Kilkenny who worked for the University of Michigan back in ’forty-eight?’

‘None other. Why do you ask?’

‘Frankly, given the age of this report, I wasn’t sure you’d even be alive, much less still residing locally. Something has come up on a very old case and, well, your name was in the file. I can’t believe I’m even working on a case that’s older than I am.’

‘And what case might that be, Detective?’

‘In December of 1948 you filed a missing-person report on Johann Wolff. Do you recall that?’

Martin placed a hand on the side of Nolan’s SUV to steady himself; he felt the blood rush from his head.

‘Are you okay, Grandpa?’ Nolan asked when he saw Martin falter.

Martin nodded to Nolan. ‘I remember that quite clearly, Detective.’

‘Good. Would it be possible for you to meet me down at the Washtenaw County Medical Examiner’s Office later today?’

‘Certainly. But why?’

‘We may have found your friend, sir. I realize that it’s been a long time, but I would appreciate your help in identifying the body. Are you sure you’re up to this, Mr Kilkenny?’

‘Johann was my friend. I owe it to him. Would two-thirty be soon enough, Detective?’

‘That’ll be fine, sir.’

‘I’m going to hand you over to my grandson, Nolan Kilkenny. Would you kindly tell him the particulars about where we’re going?’

Martin handed the phone to Nolan, opened the passenger door of the black Mercedes, and sat with his head bowed. Nolan jotted down the detective’s instructions in his planner and ended the call.

‘Grandpa, are you sure you’re okay?’

‘Johann Wolff is dead, Nolan. My friend is dead. They found his body.’ And with that, Martin Kilkenny released the tears that he’d been holding back for more than fifty years.