Vanished in the Dunes by Allan Retzky Read Free Book Online

believes, during the trip home that they will be the big winner.
    His other self, the more rational corporate analyst, has decided within days after the accident that he will likely be contacted. There were probably no more than twenty people on the bus on that morning. The bus line keeps a computer record of all passengers for each trip. Someone will report her absence. Perhaps hospital staff would have already raised an alarm when she failed to arrive for her shift the next day. Perhaps she even had a date with Henry that night and he might have personally checked her apartment. A missing person’s whereabouts would be followed up. The authorities would discover her planned trip to East Hampton. They would endeavor to speak to anyone who might have had contact with her. Then there also wasthe conversation on the bus just before she exited. That might have also been observed, and it likely was.
    And so, one part of his brain, had begun his defense, that of anonymity, and he imagined, even prerehearsed what he might tell the police.
    “Yes, I vaguely remember her. I think she wanted to know if the beach was near the bus stop. I told her it was too far to walk, and she should take a taxi, although that day, if I recall, was a bit chilly for the beach.”
    “No, I can’t really remember what we spoke about. I think she said she was from somewhere in Europe and worked at some hospital.”
    “I’m sorry I can’t recall any more. Didn’t you say it was about a month ago? Hell, sometimes I can’t recall who we elected to Congress.”
    “I’ve lived here over twenty years, but my wife works most days in Manhattan, and I’m back and forth.”
    And so it might go on. The only issue Posner hasn’t considered is whether Heidi and he were seen at the outdoor table after he picked up lunch, but that whole encounter hadn’t taken more than a minute. Moreover, he was grateful that the parking spaces in front of the store were actually taken, so that the sight of her entering his car in the rear lot would stand less likelihood of observation.
    In fact, there is no telephone call from the police. A business card that introduces a Detective Wisdom is left in the crack of his door on a Tuesday morning while he swims in the indoor pool at Gurney’s Inn Resort. Neat block lettering asks him to call at his convenience. Nothing else.
    Two days later, the appointment arranged, Detective Peter Wisdom appears at Posner’s door, and is invited upstairs. He seems to be in his late thirties, tall and slim with short light brown hair. He’s dressed in a blazer, light-blue button-down shirt, a dark tie, and khakichinos. Detective Wisdom acts like a neighbor and freely announces he has fifteen years service in the East Hampton Police Department. He even offers that he is married with a young son and lives in Sag Harbor, one of the small hamlets that are part of the town of East Hampton. As a local resident as well as a police officer, he seems to know the subtle nuances of life in the town. Posner feels an initial unease, yet Wisdom appears completely calm as the conversation moves forward. He steers the discussion as if they were new acquaintances at the local VFW hall.
    “We’ve had this fax from the NYPD,” he says, after several minutes of small talk. He pulls a few pages from his jacket pocket. “A missing person report. A woman went to East Hampton almost four weeks ago and then vanished. Her boyfriend filed the report. We know she was on the same bus as you on that day. That’s from the bus records. They keep a computer record of all passengers, so we’re checking on anyone who might have seen her. Strictly routine.”
    Wisdom holds out the papers. Posner reaches for them tentatively, as if they might scorch his fingers, but he takes them and pretends to read the diminished print. There is nothing in the text he does not already know, but he consciously takes his time. The second page has a grainy photo. Heidi is standing on a