The Secret in the Old Trunk

Written by Tom Fowler, Published on 2/9/2009

94-year-old Harold Boyles was near death. His five children were with him at bedside on the last morning of his life.

The years had not been kind to Harold. Since the death of his beloved wife Susie a decade ago, he had commenced a long and agonizing slide into Alzheimer’s disease. The family knew that his passing would be a blessing.

But on this last morning in late winter, Harold was surprisingly lucid. He began to talk, and told his children of people and experiences they had never heard him speak of before. It seemed that Harold had mercifully been relieved of dementia in this short time before joining Susie in eternity. The children would later be thankful for and cherish this last quality time spent with their father.

Less than an hour before Harold died, he said to his children, “They say a candle burns brightest before flickering out. That’s what I’m doing, flickering out. But, before I depart this life, I have something to tell you. I would have told you this long ago, but haven’t been quite able to.” It was the first time in many years the children had experienced their dad’s wry humor—something else to be thankful for on this day. But, he continued, “In the basement of the house there is an old steamer trunk back in the far corner, to the right of the entry way. It’s buried under a mountain of stuff Mom and I collected over the years, but you need to find it. Inside the trunk, there’s some information you need to know.”

Dennis, the oldest of the Boyles children, asked, “What kind of information?”

“Find the trunk and you’ll find out.” Harold refused to talk about it anymore and passed away peacefully a few minutes later.

A couple of weeks later, the children met in their childhood home to find the trunk. They were not certain it even existed, as Harold’s memory was not to be trusted, but they could not chance assuming he imagined the “information you need to know.”

After digging through all the collected family debris in the basement, they finally found the steamer trunk Harold promised would be there. They dusted it off and carried it upstairs to open it in the dining room. The dining room table was big enough to accommodate whatever contents they would find in the old chest.

At first glance, the contents of the trunk appeared to be insignificant. There were a couple of World War II era newspapers and a Life magazine with Eisenhower (then General Eisenhower) on the cover. There were a few old love letters Mom had saved which Harold had written to her in the thirties. There were a couple of prescription medicine pill bottles dated October, 1946 and a few pieces of cheap costume jewelry.

And that was all, except for an envelope with a letter inside. It was addressed to Harold Boyles and postmarked August 25, 1969. Dennis opened the letter and read it aloud:

Harold;

You have a sick child. I know which one of them poisoned Ethel. I saw the poison being placed in the bottle of salad dressing she used. However, $10,000 will make this memory go away.

Roscoe

The five sat around the table in silence. If this letter from forty years ago was true, one of them was a murderer. Their Aunt Ethel died in 1968 from what was believed acute food poisoning. Uncle Roscoe had never remarried and they wondered if this was a letter from an embittered, heartbroken man. Still, it was not an accusation they could ignore.

Dennis said, “I’m seventy years old and Patricia is the youngest at fifty-eight. Any of us could have murdered Aunt Ethel, if that is indeed what happened.” They continued to sit in stunned silence.

Dennis said, “I remember when Auntie got sick. It was at the July Fourth pool party we had here. I thought it was odd that nobody else was affected, but we were later told that she was the only one who used salad dressing from the bottle that was spoiled. I recall now it was her special brand that nobody else liked. If what Uncle Roscoe claims is true, one of us had to have placed poison in the bottle in the kitchen before Mom took the food outside to the pool deck. There was no way to do it outside unnoticed.”

George added, softly, “I remember that Aunt Ethel was not a nice person. She always scowled and lost her temper with us when Mom and Dad were not around.”

“You saying one of us paid her back?” asked John, incredulously.

“Could be.”

Patrick, age sixty-eight, said, “Dad would not have kept this letter and pointed us to it if there was nothing to the accusation.”

Patricia (Trish, as her brothers called her) said, “You know we can never rest until we figure this out.” She shuddered. “If true, this is terrible.”

George, age sixty-five and recently retired, said, “I was the first to arrive that day. Remember, it was a cookout and swim party. I’ve always loved the pool and wanted to get here early for a private swim. The first thing I did when I got here was wave hello to Mom through the window in the kitchen. I saw Dad was with her. Then, after diving into the pool, I gashed my finger on the intake grill and spent the rest of the day with a bandage on my hand.”

Patrick spoke next. “I arrived with my wife and our little Alice. George was already bandaged and not looking too happy. First we went to the kitchen to say hi to Mom and Dad. Mom was preparing the condiment tray. The spoiled bottle of dressing was with the other condiments, but it was sealed with the top screwed on.”

Trish said, “I remember coming in through the backyard gate. I do recall seeing the condiment tray through the kitchen window—unattended on the kitchen table. Now, I did not go into the kitchen at any time that day. All of you should remember that as I was never by myself all day long. But, while I was looking in the window, Roscoe and Ethel walked up behind me and said hi. I turned around to greet them. I would bet that Roscoe saw somebody handle the salad dressing and later put two and two together.” John, sixty-one, and the quietest of the siblings, spoke next. “I was frying hamburgers outside. Roscoe and Ethel came over to me when they arrived and we visited for awhile. After a time, they went over to the pool area and I saw them speaking with Trish. I would agree that was probably when Roscoe saw something in the kitchen, because he was facing the window and, soon after that, the burgers were done so Mom brought the tray outside.”

Dennis was the last to speak. He waited for a few long moments, collecting his memories from forty years ago. Finally, he said, “Well, my family and I arrived pretty much unnoticed, coming in through the back gate as Trish did and walking in just as Roscoe and Aunt Ethel were speaking with her. I noticed Alice getting ready to jump into the pool and Patrick’s wife was taking a seat by the pool. I knew she could not swim so I jumped in to play with Alice. We stayed in the pool until it was time to eat.”

The next voice spoke quickly. Looking at the guilty sibling, the voice said, “I know you did this. Would you like to tell the rest of us why?