.. with an X-ray in it?" "Probably a number of small ones. That's all." "What are they of?" "Joshua Appleton's mouth."
It was 1: 30 in the afternoon when Bray reached the library on Boylston Street. His new friend, Amos Lafollet, was taking the :00 shuttle to Washington and would return on the 9:00 o'clock flight. Scofield would meet him at the airport.
Obtaining the X-rays had not been difficult; anyone who knew the bureaucratic ways of Washington could have gotten them. Bray made two calls, the first to the Congressional Liaison Office and the second to the dentist in question. The first call was made by a harried aide of a well-known Representative suffering from an abscessed tooth. Could Liaison please get this aide the name of Senator Appleton's dentist? The Senator had mentioned the man's superior work to the congressman. Liaison gave out the dentist's name.
The call to the dentist was a routine spot check by the General Accounting Office, all bureaucratic form, no substance, forgotten tomorrow. GAO was collecting backup evidence for dental work done on senators and some idiot on K Street had come up with X-rays. Would the recep- tionist please pull Appleton's and leave it at the front desk for a GAO messenger? It would be returned in twentyfour hours.
Washington operated at full speed; there simply was not enough time to do the work that had to be done and GAO spot checks were not legitimate work. They were irritants and complied with in irritation, but nevertheless obeyed. Appleton's X-rays would be left at the desk.
Scofield checked the library directory, took the elevator to the second floor, and walked down the hallway to the Journalism Division-Current and Past Publications. Microfilm. He went to the counter at the far end of the room and spoke to the clerk behind it.
"March and April, 1954, please. The Globe or the Examiner, whatever's available." He was given eight boxes of film, and assigned a cubicle. He found it, sat down and inserted the first roll of film.
By March of '54 the bulletins detailing the condition of Joshua Appleton-"Captain Josh"-had been relegated to the back pages; be had been in the hospital more than twenty weeks by then. But he was not ignored.
The famous vigil was covered in detail. Bray wrote down the names of several of those interviewed; he would know by tomorrow whether there'd be any reason to get in touch with them.
March 1, 1954 YOUNG DOCTOR DIES OF CEREBRAL HEMORRHAGE
Ile brief story was on page sixteen. No mention that the surgeon was attending Joshua Appleton.
March 6,1954 THREE MASS. GEN'L NURSES KILLED IN FREAK BOATING AccmENT
The story had made the lower left comer of the front page, but again, there was no mention of Joshua Appleton. Indeed, it would have been strange if there had been; the three were on a rotating twenty-four-hour schedule. If they were all in Marblehead that night, who was at the Appleton bedside?
April 10, 1954 BOSTOMAN DiEs iN GSTAAD SKnNo TRAGEDY
He had found it.
It was naturally----on the front page, the headlines prominent, the copy written as much to evoke sympathy as to report the tragic death of a young man. Scofield studied the story, positive that he would come to certain lines.
He did.
Because of the victim's deep love of the Alps- and to spare family and friends further anguish-the family has announced that the burial will take place in Switzerland, in the village of Col du Pillon
Bray wondered who was in that coffin in Col du Pillon. Or was it merely empty?
He returned to the cheap hotel, gathered his things together, and took a cab to the Prudential Center Parking Lot, Gate A. He drove the rented car out of Boston, along Jamaica Way into Brookline. He found Appleton Hill, driving past the gates of Appleton Hall, absorbing every detail he could within the short space of time.
The huge estate was spread like a fortress across the crest of the hill, a high stone wall surrounding the inner structure, tall roofs that gave the illusion of parapets seen above the distant wall. The roadway beyond the main gate wound up the hill around a huge brick carriage house, covered with ivy, housing no fewer than eight to ten complete apartments, five garages fronting an enormous concrete parking area below.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
He drove around the hill. The ten-foot-bigh wroughtiron fence was continuous; every several hundred yards, small lean-to shelters were built into the earth of the hill like miniature bunkers, and