The Classic Automobile Mystery

Written by Tom Fowler, Published on 1/16/2009, Re-published on 3/1/2010

The Midwestern States Car Club was huge, boasting over 200 members throughout a five state area. Gary, Ben, Gerald, Mike and Tommy all lived in the same town and had been good friends for over 20 years. They, with their spouses, met often to talk about classic automobiles.

The club’s yearly convention and auto show was to be in Springfield next month. And on a beautiful spring evening, the friends met at Ben and Debbie’s home for dinner and conversation. They had much to talk about, as all 10 of them planned to attend the out of town convention.

But, Ben had more on his mind than the upcoming convention. He was troubled by something that had happened at the meet last year. Tonight, he would share his concern with the group.

After dinner, which had been hamburgers charcoaled on the Hamilton’s outside patio grill, Ben sipped on a Coke and said, “Someone in our group put a dent in my Corvair’s door at the meet last year. I know who it was but have hoped all of this time that he would come forward and admit it.” Ben paused, measuring his words carefully, and then continued, “It was on the lower portion of the door and not a serious dent. It was easily repaired, but it kept me out of the competition for Best Restoration.”

Everyone, including Debbie, went silent and looked intently at Ben. Ben owned a 1964 Corvair Monza. One of the first American compact cars, it was air cooled with its engine in the rear. Ben’s was a beautiful automobile, which had been restored to pristine condition. It was painted sea green and sported red line tires. It sat low to the ground, which assisted in keeping it stabilized for safety. Rolling (the Corvair had a high center of gravity, causing it to tip over and roll when turning swiftly at high speeds) was the main issue with the Corvair and had been publicized by a well-known consumer advocate, sounding its death knell to the American public. Ben had made certain this issue was addressed with his Monza.

Ben surprised the group again by telling them that a week after returning from Springfield last year, he had received an anonymous gift of $250 via money order and an apology for the dent mishap. He knew the unknown offender felt badly about his mistake but did not wish to own up to it. “Still,” he told them, “this needs to come to light. We are all friends here and I wish for us to remain so. I know the person who sent the money order has felt terrible all year. It’s time to address this and get it behind us.”

Tommy Flowers, the owner of a beautiful yellow 1968 Ford Mustang coupe with wide oversize tires, 302 engine, four on the floor transmission and the most emotional of the friends, asked pointedly, “I didn’t know anyone had dented your car. Who was it?”

Slowly, Ben answered, “I’m not ready to say. I’m going to explain what happened and see if you can figure it out. I would rather you tell me. I do not wish to accuse an old friend unless it is absolutely necessary.”

Gary Riggs, the proud owner of a 1959 Chevrolet Impala four door with pronounced tail fins, offered, “We all remember that you pulled out of the judging, but you never explained why.”

Doc McCroy, the owner of a vintage low slung 1966 Chevrolet Corvette Sting Ray with 427 engine, wire wheels and removable hard top, wasn’t happy either with Ben’s words and said, “OK, Ben, you began this discussion. Start explaining.”

Ben replied, “It was Friday afternoon before the judging on Saturday. I drove over and parked in front of the park pavilion. I went inside to get a Coke from the snack bar. My cell phone rang and I hung around inside for a while. When I came out, there was a nasty dent in the passenger side door. I would have missed it, but the entrance to the pavilion was to the right of the Corvair. I saw it when I came out of the building.”

Mike Benson, the least emotional of the friends and owner of a red 1967 Mustang coupe with a black vinyl interior, six cylinder engine and automatic transmission, asked, “Did anyone come in or out of the pavilion while you were there?”

“Not that I noticed, but for a short time I was engaged on a business call and was preoccupied.”

“So, you didn’t see anyone?”

“That’s right,” answered Ben.

“Were there any paint scratches on your door?”

“No. It looked like they had been wiped away.” Ben was silent for a moment, and then offered, “There was some fresh oil in the parking place next to me. I saw tire tracks. There was nothing unusual about them except that I noticed they were very close to the Corvair.”

Doc asked, “Did you notice anything else?”

“No.”

Everyone sat in silence for a long awkward moment. The wives said nothing, knowing this was something the men would have to work out. Debbie silently prayed that her husband knew what he was doing.

Gary finally said, “OK. We need to figure this out. This is disturbing, but you are too old a friend to make this accusation lightly.”

Debbie said, “When you went to the pavilion, I went with the Riggs to the grocery store. We picked up some chips and Cokes for the snack supper.” Debbie managed a weak grin and said, “Riding in a 1959 Impala is a lot roomier than the Corvair.”

Tommy looked at Ben, asking, “May I ask a couple of questions?”

“I wish you would,” replied Ben.

Looking at Doc, Tommy asked, “Where were you that Friday afternoon?

“I was washing and waxing the ‘vette.”

Turning to Mike, Tommy asked, “What about you? As I recall, you were not at the judging either. Why not?”

“Well, I had a radiator leak. Most of you know that cooling systems were and remain the Achilles Heel of the 1960s model Ford Mustangs. I was leaking all the way to Springfield and simply could not get it repaired in time for Saturday.”

Tommy considered this for a moment and then said to the group, “I know who did this. Why don’t you admit it now before somebody has to accuse you?”