Black wind

Library.
    It was a small library but looked like it had been in existence for six or seven decades. A musty smell of old books and older dust wafted lightly in the air. Dirk walked straight to a large metal desk, from which a fiftyish woman with contemporary eyeglasses and short blond hair looked up suspiciously. A plastic green badge pinned to her blouse revealed her name: margaret.
    “Good morning, Margaret. My name is Dirk,” he said with a smile. “I wonder if you might have copies of the local newspaper from the nineteen forties?”
    The librarian warmed slightly. “The Warrenton News, which went out of print in 1964. We do have original copies from the nineteen thirties through the sixties. Right this way,” she said.
    Margaret walked to a cramped corner of the library, where she
    pulled out several drawers of a filing cabinet before discovering the location of the 1940s editions.
    “What exactly is it that you are looking for?” she asked, more out of nosiness than of a desire to help.
    “I’m interested in the story of a local family that died suddenly from poisoning back in 1942.”
    “Oh, that would be Leigh Hunt,” Margaret exclaimed with a knowing smugness. “He was a friend of my father. Apparently, that was quite a shock around here. Let’s see, I think that happened during the summer,” she said while flipping through the cabinet. “Did you know the family?” she asked Dirk without looking up.
    “No, just a history buff interested in the mystery of their deaths.”
    “Here we go,” the librarian said, pulling out an edition of the daily newspaper dated Sunday, June 21, 1942. It was a small journal, mostly containing weather, tide, and salmon-fishing statistics combined with a few local stories and advertisements. Margaret flattened out the paper on top of the filing cabinet so Dirk could read the headline story.
    Four Dead on De Laura Beach
    Local resident Leigh Hunt, his two sons Tad (age 13) and Tom (age 11), and a nephew known only as Skip, were found dead Saturday, June 20th, on De Laura Beach. The four went out clamming in the afternoon, according to Hunt’s wife Marie, and failed to return home for dinner. County Sheriff Kit Edwards discovered the bodies, which showed no signs of a struggle or physical injury. “Not finding any physical marks, we immediately suspected smoke inhalation or poisoning. Leigh had a large supply of a cyanide treatment in his workshop that he used for tanning leather,” Edwards remarked. “He and the boys must have been exposed to a strong dose before they went to the beach, and the poison caught up with them there,” he stated. Funeral arrangements are pending examination of the bodies by the county coroner.
    “Is there a follow-up news report on the coroner’s findings?” he asked.
    Margaret rifled through another dozen editions of the News before finding a small article related to the deaths. Reading out loud, she cited that the coroner’s office confirmed accidental cyanide inhalation as the suspected cause of death.
    “My father never did believe it was an accident,” Margaret added, to Dirk’s surprise.
    “It doesn’t make sense that they would have died later at the beach after inhaling the fumes in Hunt’s work shed,” Dirk mused.
    “Papa said the same thing,” Margaret replied, letting down her guard slightly. “And he said the authorities never did consider the birds.”
    “Birds?”
    “Yes. About a hundred seagulls were found dead on the beach around the area that Hunt and the boys were found. Fort Stevens, the Army base, was right near that beach. Papa always suspected it was some sort of Army experiment that accidentally killed them. Guess nobody will ever know for sure.”
    “Wartime secrets can be difficult to unlock sometimes,” Dirk replied. “Thank you for your help, Margaret.”
    Dirk returned to the jeep and drove through the town to the coastal highway and turned south. A short stretch of pavement later, he approached a small side road marked de laura beach road. The road led through an open pair of gates marked fort stevens state park before narrowing through thick underbrush. Dirk jammed the jeep into low gear and surged over a jagged ridge before descending to a large abandoned gun emplacement overlooking the ocean. Battery Russell had been one of several coastal defense sites guarding the entrance to the Columbia River which sprang up during the Civil War, then were later updated with huge long-range