S Is for Silence

you any kind of accurate answer. In 1953, the guy would’ve used a bulldozer. If you’re telling me he backed the car in, then he must have dug the hole with a long sloping ramp on either end and scooped out dirt until the hole was deep enough at its deepest point to sink the car completely. I’d say two days, maybe a day and a half. It wouldn’t take long to fill it in again. Someone must have seen what he was up to, but he might have had a cover story.”
    “The Fourth fell on a Saturday that year so most people were given Friday off, too. If the road crew was idle for the three-day weekend, then the excavation could have been done without anyone on hand.”
    “I can see that,” he said. “With the road unfinished, there wouldn’t have been any traffic to speak of.”
    “What about the excess dirt? Wouldn’t there have been quite a bit leftover when the hole was filled in?”
    He fixed his green eyes on mine. “Oh, yes. The car would have displaced somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty cubic yards of dirt. Rough guess.”
    “So what’d he do, haul it all away?”
    “Not likely. The biggest dump truck in operation back then had a capacity of five cubic yards, so it would have taken too long, especially if he ferried the load any appreciable distance. The easiest solution would have been to push it across the road and spread it out on that field.”
    “But wouldn’t someone have noticed the sudden appearance of all the fresh dirt?”
    “Not necessarily. If I remember correctly, the field you’re looking at belonged to a co-op at the time, and it was only being cultivated intermittently. With road construction under way, things were already torn up, so no one would have paid attention to a little more dirt.”
    “We have to be talking about someone who’s worked in construction, don’t you think? The average joe doesn’t jump on a bulldozer and dig a hole that size. Seems like you’d have to know what you were doing.”
    “True, but that’s not going to help you narrow the field. After World War Two a lot of guys around here worked construction, Foley being one. Building trade was booming, so it was that, farmwork, the oil fields, or the packing plant.”
    “Well. I guess we don’t have to worry about it. I’m sure Detective Nichols will figure it out.”

    At noon I took Daisy’s car and made a run to the delicatessen I’d patronized the day before. Since Tannie had commandeered yesterday’s braunschweiger on rye, I ordered one for myself. Daisy said she’d be happy with whatever I picked up, so I had the counterman put together a sliced-turkey sandwich on sourdough bread. I ordered a second one and then added potato chips, sodas, and a bag of cookies. As long as we were stuck there we might as well enjoy ourselves.
    We ate in her car, watching the excavation as though we were at a drive-in movie. A tow truck appeared, the most exciting occurrence in the past three hours. Tom Padgett must have gotten bored because I saw him back away and start heading in our direction. He had his fat-stemmed glasses in hand, polishing one lens with a white handkerchief. His jeans, cowboy boots, and western-cut shirt gave him the air of a rodeo rider, complete with slightly bowed legs.
    I said, “Hang on.” I opened the car door and got out. “Hi, Tom. Are you off to lunch?”
    “Come again?” He put on his glasses and cupped a hand to one ear.
    “I wondered if you were on your way to lunch.”
    “Yes, ma’am. I thought I’d grab a bite somewhere.”
    “I can save you the trip. We have an extra turkey sandwich, if you’re interested.”
    “That’d be nice if you’re sure it’s okay. “
    “If you don’t eat it, we’ll have to toss it out.”
    He used the front fender of Daisy’s car as a makeshift picnic table. I popped open the remaining soda and passed it to him. He shook his head to the offer of potato chips but later accepted a cookie that he downed with enthusiasm.
    I said, “How’s it going? You’ve managed to get a lot closer to the hole than we have.”
    He cleared his mouth and ran a paper napkin across his lips, nodding as he did. “They’re making good progress. Looks like they’re about to try pulling the car out of the hole.”
    “Really, that close?”
    He wadded up his sandwich wrappings. “That’s why they got the tow truck. Might not work, but it’d sure be a lot easier than what they’ve done.”
    “How long did you hang around last night?”
    “As