The Mystery of Lina Green

«Carl, can I trust you?»

«What’s wrong, Lina?» I replied to her frightened.

«Answer me, Karl!»

«Yes, Lina, of course you can trust me!» But what happened, Lina?

«Then don’t ask questions!» Just listen! Tomorrow I have an extremely important meeting, I don’t know what will happen after it, maybe I won’t come back, but I want you to take it…»

«If something happens to me,» she continued, «just use this key, all my notes are there, you’ll understand everything, and we’ll catch that bastard!»

At that time, I was in shock, I did not understand what was happening. She was all wet, standing in the rain, and I, a fool, never bothered to invite her into the house. I took the envelope, and she just left, got into the car, and I never saw her alive again. I still blame myself very much. After all, I could have stopped her! He could have helped her! But still, I didn’t. Your father, when he found out that I had seen her shortly before the murder, was very angry with me that I could not help her, and I cannot forgive myself. After that, he didn’t talk to me anymore, well, we had a few more meetings when we were looking for Lina’s killer, but we didn’t communicate as before. And I do not condemn him.

«I’m sorry, Karl, you said that Lina gave you the key in an envelope, what was it from?» Did you find her notes?

«I don’t know what the key is. She didn’t explain anything, apparently for security reasons, but I tried everywhere I could.

«And where?»

«Yes, everywhere… at the post office, at the station, in the storage rooms and even checked her mailbox, but the key did not fit anywhere. It remained a mystery to me, although I clearly understood and still understand that if we find Lina’s notes, we will find the killer.

«Do you still have the key?»

«Yes!» Of course!

«Can you give it to me?» Maybe I can figure out what this key is from.

«Wait a minute, James.

Karl went off in search of the key, and my head was already thinking about what the key was from and what could be there. And I came to the conclusion that, most likely, Lina Green found the killer of Marcus Peters and went to expose him. That’s why she stopped by Carl Branson and left him the key to keep, but she didn’t tell him what it was from. She probably thought that Carl would guess what he was from and would be able to go to the police with Lina’s evidence. However, Karl could not figure out what this key was from, and the criminal remained at large.

Then Karl returned and interrupted my reasoning. He returned with a small carved box in his hands and handed it to me. I slowly opened it: it contained only a small key, the purpose of which I had to find out.

«Thank you, Karl!» I will try to find out the truth about the murder of Lina Green.

«I hope you can do it, James. This secret has been haunting me for 20 years. Find the criminal, let this scoundrel answer for what he has done. And James, that’s thank you!

With that, I said goodbye to Karl. He hugged me and said at the end:

«Take care, James!» This can be very dangerous.

In turn, I once again promised to look into this case.

«Say hello to your father!»

«Certainly, Karl!»

I got in the car and went to the house by the lake. All the way I was occupied with thoughts about this little spring. What is it from? And what can be there? A diary? Documents? Notes? What?

As soon as I crossed the threshold of the house, I put the key on the table and began to examine it attentively. It doesn’t look like this key is from a house or mailbox, as if it’s from a vault or a cell. However, where? Definitely not at the station, Karl was there. There is no airport here. And I concluded that the key had to unlock something specifically here in Lingfield, because Carl had lived here all his life, and if the records had been in New York or elsewhere, Lina would not have left the key to Carl. So, you need to look for it here!

More and more facts appeared on my wall. Or, as the police call it, a detective board that helps to visually assess the available evidence and build new chains in the investigation.

I was dizzy with thoughts, I filled a glass of whiskey and drained it in one gulp. It didn’t get any easier, but I calmed down a little, and the thoughts that had been wandering around in my head so erratically seemed to be on the shelf.

Lina knew the killer and went to him on purpose. She needed his confession, apparently she paid for it. In turn, Carl Branson could not understand Lena Green’s intention, and her death was in vain. At that moment, I realized that there was another person who knew about this case. It’s my father, Hank Havebrook! Of course! I have to learn what my father knows. And why didn’t my father tell me about it before? Probably, this topic is very painful for him. Looking at the clock, I decided to put this idea aside until morning, since the clock showed half past one in the morning. After draining another glass in one gulp, I just fell on the sofa and fell asleep.

I didn’t sleep long. Someone desperately pressed the bell button. Stumbling with my feet, without bothering to ask: «Who?», I threw the door open. Marcy was standing in the doorway!

«Marcy?» What are you doing here?

«I’m sorry. I was driving past your house after finishing my shift at the diner, saw a light in the windows, and decided to stop by to leave you dinner. You probably work a lot on a book, and you don’t always have time to eat. And I have the opinion that you work at night.

«Oh, Marcy, you really shouldn’t have been so worried about me. Actually, I was already asleep, I just forgot to turn off the light. Today was a very busy day.

Marcy was embarrassed.

«I’m sorry again, Mr. Havebrook. I’ll go. Bon appetit and good night.

«Hey, Marcy!» Thank you! I nodded in gratitude.

She embarrassedly got into the car and drove away.

Nevertheless, it was past two o’clock in the morning, and since I woke up, I firmly decided to have a snack and think about the available information. The food seemed very tasty, although I did not heat it. I decided not to call my father about the Lina Green case. I thought it would be better if I came to my parents’ home in New York. I took a shower, hastily packed my things and went to my parents.

I drove very slowly, as it was still 5 in the morning, my father wakes up early, about 6—7 o’clock, and I expected that my journey would take no more than three hours. I turned off Mountain Road and got out onto the highway. The road was clean, it seemed that everyone around was asleep. I drove past majestic spruce and pine trees, and at that moment I felt one with nature. It was raining lightly, it was cloudy, but for some reason it made me feel good and calm.

Around 8 I was already near my parents’ house. I didn’t notice how I got there, it seemed to me that this moment.

Conversation with Father

«Hello, Dad!»

I saw my father in the driveway, outside the house. Evidently he had gone out for the morning paper. It was his daily ritual: every morning he made coffee, went out to get a newspaper, and then settled into his chair and enjoyed the new day. Sometimes people don’t need much to be happy. My father never chased fame or money, he just lived his life and enjoyed the little things. I thought it was boring, because my plan was to become a famous writer and, accordingly, make money on it. Although, do I really want it?

«Oh, son! What fates? How is your vacation? You haven’t called in days! My father bombarded me with questions.

«It’s all right!» There was a lot of work…

«Work?» I thought you were on vacation?

— Yes, but this is a sabbatical.

«Have you started writing?»

— I think so. I have a story. In fact, this is the reason why I came to New York so early. I have a conversation for you!

«Well, why are we standing in the street?» Come in,» my father cordially invited, hugging me. We entered the house.

«Make coffee?»

«Yes, I won’t refuse. I didn’t sleep much today.

«Go to your room for now, rest, and I’ll cook breakfast and make us coffee.» Your mom is still asleep, so don’t make any noise.

«All right, Dad.

Everything in my room remained as it was when I graduated from school: an old computer, furniture befitting any teenager — a wall table, a folding sofa. On the wall there were still posters of various rock musicians. I sat down at my desk and laid out my things. I took out a laptop, the diary of a stranger with the initials H.H., and a file folder that contained all the materials I had managed to collect. It was at this moment that my father looked into the room.

«You look thoughtful. Hold your coffee, breakfast will be later, because your mother woke up and chased me out of the kitchen,» my father said with a smile and kindness.

He loved his mother very much and was always courteous to her.

«Well, what do you have, James?»

«Listen, Dad, it’s a very long story, but I think you can help me!»

«I’ll do my best to help, son!»

— It all started when I went to Lingfield. In the local private library, I was walking around the bookshelves and accidentally found a package. It contained a diary! It described the murder of a certain Lina Green and the disappearance of Marcus Peters…

I looked at my father, his face was as white as a sheet.

«Dad?!» Are you okay? You’re all pale!

«And where is this diary?» Father asked barely audibly.

«He’s here!» That’s it. What’s the matter?

— Are there any initials H.H. at the end of the diary?

«How do you know?» I was amazed.

«Because this is my diary, son.

«What?» Hank Havebrook?

Then I realized what had happened. This is my father’s diary, written during the years of Lina Green’s disappearance.

«Dad!» Why didn’t you tell me about it?

«Son, understand, it hurt me to remember those events, and it still hurts me. After all, the killer was never found.

«You must tell me everything you know about this case.

«Good!» Just promise me that you’ll get to the bottom of the truth!

«I’ll try, I’ll do everything in my power!»

«You must do more than you can to get to the truth.» But it can be dangerous, so be careful, son! Year 2002.

I was a little over forty years old at the time of the events that took place in Lingfield in the summer of 2002. I was quite a successful journalist. I never became a famous writer, and I did not aspire to do so. But in the field of journalism he had excellent achievements.

I met Lina Green in 2000 at the behest of my work. At that time, she was still a beginner in this business, but she was already writing quite good articles. She came to our newsroom to learn from the best journalists in New York. It so happened that I became its curator.

She was very purposeful. She was constantly writing something down in her diary and always remained mysterious. I was wondering what she was writing down all the time, and one day I asked her directly about it.

«You know, Mr. Havebrook, this is my investigation of a long-ago crime. The police were unable to solve this case, and it seems to me that I am close to it.

«What is this business?» I asked with interest.

«The murder did not take place in New York, but in Lingfield. If you don’t mind, you could help me! However, you should know that this is my investigation,» she replied a little sharply.

I agreed to help. And then she told me about the strange murder of a certain Marcus Peters. The guy was 17 years old — very young. Then, in 1976, this case quickly went into the category of «grouses»: there was no evidence, no witnesses, and all kinds of DNA tests had not yet been done, there were no technologies. For the local police, this was the first murder in their careers, they did not know how to behave correctly at the scenes of a crime of this kind. Both the state police and the FBI were there, but the case stalled before it began. Lina only said that she knew more than the police, but for some reason she was in no hurry to tell me the details. She said something about the fact that she had a witness who was at the scene of the crime. I was carried away by this case, it seemed that this story could blow up all the news feeds, but Lina was in no hurry to make this case public ahead of time. She thought it was too early. When she is sure of all the details of this case, then she will release a full-scale article with a detailed investigation so that the perpetrators are punished. But she was silent. Time passed, I did not climb to her with questions, because this was her investigation. I figured that when she was ready, she would tell me everything.

It all happened in the summer of 2002. Lina came to Carl Branson and left him the key that we could not find out about and could not understand what it was from. After meeting Carl Lina, no one saw her alive again, except for the killer, of course.

The police suspected me and Carl, but rather only because there were no other suspects, and we spent a lot of time with Lina, especially me. I don’t know whether to go with her at last or call me immediately in the end. But he didn’t. Now I understand that I shouldn’t have been so angry with Karl, because he had nothing to do with it. He’s just a journalist for a local newspaper in Lingfield, and the whole situation scared him a lot, he was in a stupor, and that’s not surprising. When I found out that Lina was dead, I was devastated by it. Then I began to keep a diary. There was no purpose to this diary, I kept it just to complain on paper, because I was afraid to talk to anyone else about it. In each of them, I saw an enemy or a greedy journalist who dreamed of promoting himself at the expense of the death of the unfortunate Lina.

Father fell silent. It seemed that he almost burst into tears, but still he managed to pull himself together.

«Dad, I have this key now. I went to see Carl Branson, he said hello to you, and he is very sorry that he could not help Lina on that fateful night. He considered himself guilty of her death. I myself want to understand what this key is from, because perhaps there is information that will give us a denouement of both crimes that happened in Lingfield. After all, it is obvious that these two murders are somehow connected with each other.

Father nodded and was silent for a long time. It seemed to me that he still had a lot of information, but now he is unable to continue the conversation. He only said:

«Son, deal with this matter, I beg you.» But don’t release your book until you’re sure of all the details. Otherwise, it will not be a book, but dog shit. Write only facts.

«I won’t let you down, dad!»

«Boys, go wash your hands and have breakfast!» Mom’s voice was heard from below.

«Let’s go, mom.

«Mom didn’t make a sound. There is no need to make her nervous and worried.

«Of course, Dad, no questions asked!»

«Then go and put on a smile!»

My mother was happy to see me, and we had a very warm, family-like breakfast.

«How’s your book, son?» Mom asked.

«She’s in the process, mom, I don’t want to reveal all the details yet.

«I’m happy for you,» my mother said with warmth in her voice.

At that moment, my father looked at me proudly. I nodded to him imperceptibly.

When breakfast was finished, my father went outside with me to see me off.

«Deal with this matter, son.

«But I don’t even know what to do next…

«Find her mother!»

«Lina?»

«Yes!» Maybe she’s still alive.

«Thank you, Dad, you helped me a lot. I hope the new branch will lead somewhere.

«Come on, have a good trip!» Don’t drive quickly!

«Yes, sir,» I said like a soldier.

«Call me!»

I didn’t even remember how I got to Lingfield, I was so in my thoughts, so much the story sank into my soul. Literally another moment — and here I am already driving up to the house by the lake. This place has become even more native to me than it used to be. Thoughts even appeared in my head: should I move here for good?

In Search of Mrs. Green

I decided to go to the police sheriff, Patrick Blackwood. There is a possibility that he will be able to find out something about Lina Green’s mother through the police channels.

«Greetings, Patrick!» I have a request, I hope you can help me.

«Hey, James!» Can you come to the station? We will discuss everything here.

— Yes, I’ll be there in just 10 minutes.

«Okay, I’ll warn the duty officer.

«See you!»

I hung up the phone and immediately drove to the police station. I felt that I had found something, I just needed to move forward, I needed to reveal this secret so that justice would prevail.

The attendant let me in without any problems, and I ended up in Sheriff Patrick Blackwood’s office.

«Sit down, Havebrook. What happened?

«You know I’m writing a book about Lina Green, so I want to know if she has any living relatives?»

«As far as I have heard, Lina had only her mother and grandfather, they were very close. Lived in Lingfield, but at some point moved to Cortland, I haven’t heard from her since. I can contact the police department in Cortland and find out something about Mrs. Green.

«Patrick, I would be very grateful if you could find out her address.

«Good. Stay in touch, as soon as I find out something, I’ll call you.

«I owe you, Patrick!»

«Come on,» he replied embarrassedly.

«I’ll be in touch!»

It was as if wings grew behind my back, it seemed to me that I could do anything. For so many years, the police have not been able to dig up anything about these two murders, and I collected many times more information in a few days. I wanted to praise myself, but I realized that I was only at the beginning of the path and I was not close to the solution, but only knew some details that the police did not know. And yet it inspired me.

The weather turned completely bad, I decided to light the fireplace and have a glass or two of whiskey. I just sat and looked at the sparks in front of the fireplace, and it completely wore me out. I barely slept last night, and it took its toll. I slept soundly until morning. In the morning, I was woken up by a phone call. It was Patrick Blackwood.

«Patrick?»

«Yes, James!» I learned something about Mrs. Green.

«Come on, don’t languish!»

«As I said, she lives in Cortland, at 7 Hudson Street. I can go there with you if I need the support of a cop.

«Are you serious?» I’ll be glad if you keep me company.

«Excellent!» What time do we leave?

«In an hour!» I’ll pick you up at the station. It is better to go in my car, because the investigation is unofficial.

«You’re right!» I’m waiting.

I decided not to hesitate and immediately began to get ready. I had breakfast on the go: coffee and a sandwich. And now I am already sitting, waiting for Patrick near the station.

«Patrick!» I waved to him, and he joined me.

«Well?» Let’s go?

«Yes, we’re going!»

All the way to Cortland, we drove in complete silence, each thinking about something different, only occasionally exchanging a couple of phrases, but nothing to the point. Probably, we were both thinking about how to build a dialogue with Mrs. Green.

It was only at 7 Hudson Street that we decided to discuss our tactics. We decided that we would not take a roundabout route and simply explain the essence of our visit: that we wanted to uncover the truth about the murder of Lina Green and that we were her friends. And the second goal is to try to find out something about the key. Maybe all this time his mother knew what he was from?

Mrs. Green’s Story

The small house on Hudson Street was rather unkempt: the overgrown grass and peeling paint on the façade spoke of this. We were greeted by a rickety mailbox, and there was no bell on the door.

I knocked persistently on the door, and it immediately opened. It turned out to be open. Patrick Blackwood, the brave sheriff, took the initiative at the same moment: he pushed me aside, grabbed my holster with his hand, and called loudly:

«Mrs. Green, are you at home?» I’m from the police!

There was silence in response, and we went into the living room. An elderly woman was sitting on the sofa, she was clearly drunk.

«Who the hell brought there?» She cursed.

«Ma’am, I’m from the police, my name is Patrick Blackwood, and this is my friend James Havebrook, he’s a writer from New York.

«Havebrook?» She looked at me in surprise. «Are you Hank’s son?» I knew Hank, not very well, but I often heard this name from my daughter. Oh, dear Lina, what have they done to you?! I’ve always believed that Havebrook was responsible for her death!

«Why did you think so?»

«She spent too much time with this man. And this Federal came to me and asked about him.

«Ma’am, with all due respect, I don’t think it was him.

«What’s the difference now?» No one will return my daughter to me!

«That’s the point, Mrs. Green — »

«I’m Miss Green!» I was not married!

«I’m sorry. But that’s why we want to find your daughter’s killer, so that justice can be done and the person responsible for her death gets the punishment he deserves, albeit after a long time.

«And what do you want from me?» Look at me… My daughter is all I had in this rotten life, and now she’s gone. The most expensive things were taken away from me.

«Is that why you drink?»

«And what can I do?» How to relieve this pain inside?

«Miss Green, did Lina tell you anything before she disappeared?»

«What do you mean?»

«We’ve learned that your daughter was investigating the murder of Marcus Peters.

«Marcus?» Her eyes filled with tears.

«Yes, Marcus Peters!»

«Oh, I loved Marcus!» On the day of his death, I was with him! We wanted to run away and get married, our parents were against our union, but he was still 17 years old, and I was already 18. We decided to escape. At night, he secretly got out of the house, at this time I was waiting for him. He got into my car, and we drove in the direction of Salt Lake City, but we were not destined to escape…

«What’s wrong?»

Patrick and I were amazed by the woman’s story. She continued, however:

«A car was driving behind us. The bastards in that car were aggressive and tried to push us out of the way. I got scared and stopped the car. It was a big mistake. Drunk guys, I think they were wearing masks or something, but they started beating Marcus and I was raped right in front of him. At that moment, Catherine Green burst into tears and covered her face with her hands…

— What happened next?

Catherine exhaled and, wiping away her tears, continued her heart-wrenching story.

«Maybe they didn’t want to kill anyone, they just wanted to mock us, but when they beat Marcus, they apparently overdid it. They panicked when they realized that he was dead. Then the tall one, I think he was the main one for them, or so it seemed to me, ordered to finish me off as an unnecessary witness. But I miraculously survived. I don’t remember much about how I was able to crawl about 500 meters. One of the passing drivers saw me and called an ambulance.

«Didn’t you find Marcus?» What if he was still alive too?

«As I said, I crawled a good distance from Marcus and then lost consciousness. I was in a coma for about a week. When I came to, I had amnesia, so I was of no use. And a month later, I found out that I was pregnant.