The Boat

The first thing that struck me about Wilhelm Kohl’s boat was how its beauty clashed with the dilapidated boathouse.

The postman had found Wilhelm collapsed on his front porch, his Boeing Aerospace mug shattered next to him. By the time we arrived at the Kohl residence on the lake we knew it was too late.

Of course, I had no idea just how much I would get entangled into Wilhelm’s life. Wilhelm had no next of kin, and even though I was just the humble sheriff of Foggy Point, legal matters here had a way of falling into my lap. I had to inspect the Kohl residence and catalog it for probate, which was how I found the boat.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she, Charlie?” said Deputy Jeffrey Laffer as he examined its lines.

I didn’t know much about boats, but I had to agree. The quality of the workmanship was beyond anything I’d ever seen, every seam tight, every joint perfectly mated, every line flawless.

“Did anybody know Wilhelm was building a boat?” I asked.

“Not that I know of. Maybe he bought it?”

“Not likely,” I said, gesturing at the workbench populated with woodworking tools and piles of wood shavings. Someone had worked hard on this boat for years, right there in the boathouse.

“Add it to the list,” I said.

“Maybe that would be a clue,” said Jeffrey, pointing at the boat’s fantail.

The characters “M.G.” were carved into it in flowing script.

“He named the boat after someone,” said Jeffrey.

“It’s as good a place to start as any. How’s it going in the house?”

“We’re almost done. We should have the paperwork notarized by lunch.”

I nodded, trying to remember all the people in Foggy Point with the initials “M.G.” It was not large.

The shrill voice pierced the walls like a gaffing hook.

“Charlie? Are you in there?”

I groaned. It was other than Daphne Payne. Steeling myself, I walked outside to find the town gossip looking at the puddle of coffee congealing on Wilhelm’s porch.

“Is that where it happened?” she asked.

I examined her darting eyes and decided that Daphne had had her daily caffeine and was looking to supplement with scandal.

“It seems so,” I said. “There wasn’t much warning. I’m sending someone to ask about his medical history.”

“If you ask me,” said Daphne, “You should look into Merritt Garnier, you know, with their history?”

When she saw my blank expression, she happily continued.

“Wilhelm was seeing Merritt’s little hussy of a wife, Mimi!” she said. “Everybody who was around back when Bush ’41 was still in office knows it!”

I wondered why I had never heard this before, despite Wilhelm lore making its rounds of Foggy Point for years.

“Between us ladies, you know how the men get,” continued Daphne. “I could tell you stories going back years of husbands taking matters into their own hands. An unfaithful wife can unlock the darkest deeds in a man!”

“There’s no evidence of foul play,” said Jeffrey.

“Just remember what I said,” Daphne nearly whispered, looking fit to burst with the secrets she held.

She grabbed her support hose through her dress and hitched it up. Then with a nod and a smirk to Jeffrey, she walked back up the gravel road toward town.

“If that woman ever lost the power of speech, I believe she would explode,” said Jeffrey. “You know, those initials could be ‘Mimi Garnier.’”

“I’m going to visit Merritt,” I said. “I’ll be back at the station later. If Brady’s slept off his bender, cut him loose.”

“You’ve got it.”

On my way to town, my husband called.

“Did you sign the papers yet?” he asked, his voice as tired as the boathouse I had just left.

My eyes fell to the manila envelope on the passenger seat, an unwelcome hitchhiker bearing bad news.

“I’m getting to it, Barry.”

“Is there something else you want fixed? I can call my lawyer-“

“No, no, it’s okay, Barry. It’s just…”

I trailed off. I had already been turning the idea of our marriage ending over and over in my mind until it seemed like the right thing. And yet…

“Do you ever wonder if maybe we’ve done everything we could have done to make it work?”

Barry sighed.

“We’ve been at this from every angle, Charlotte. And we agreed, it’s the best thing for everyone, including Josh. And also…”

“What is it?”

But I already knew.

“I’m seeing Molly.”

I had known this was coming but it still hit me like a bucket of cold lake water.

“Josh likes her, Charlotte. And despite the circumstances, I think you would like her too.”

After a moment, I cleared my throat and answered.

“I’m happy for you.”

“I’m sorry, Charlotte-“

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Barry. I’ll sign the papers later.”

There was nothing else to say. A period on the end of the sentence. I hung up and drove on in silence.

Merritt Garnier lived alone on the old Garden Row, where the houses were older even than my own parents. For my whole life I remembered that row having the lushest gardens. It was a tradition going back to World War II when Victory Gardens took off. Merritt’s house was the one at the end with a rather large, old shed nestling between hedges.

Notes of Paganini drifting through the door stopped when I knocked. A slight, old man with a shock of white hair answered.

“Charlie! What brings the law to my house today?”

“Can I come in? I have a few questions regarding an incident earlier today.”

Nodding, Merritt let me in and ushered me to the couch. Through the open door of the study, I could see his violin resting on the desk, sheet music scattered about. Merritt hurried to the kitchen and came back with two steaming cups of coffee.

“And what is this about?”

“Wilhelm Kohl died this morning. He was found collapsed on his porch.”

Merritt’s coffee mug shook a little, and a few drops of coffee spilled out and spattered to the rug.

“Do you know how?”

I sighed, wondering what I was doing here, but something compelled me continue.

“We don’t have medical report yet,” I said. “But it was likely natural causes. He was in his eighties, after all.”

“Eighty-four,” said Merritt. “The old bastard lived longer than he had a right to.”

I looked at the violin calluses on his fingers.

“He died with no next of kin. I’m handling his estate, so I’m trying to find out as much as I can about him. I was hoping you could tell me something.”

“Like what? How he was as mean as a rabid muskrat?”

I chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pick at old wounds, Merritt, but there were rumors-“

“Daphne’s sounding off again, eh? I’ll put it rest right now. My Mimi was faithful until the day she died. If Daphne did see him at my house, assuming she wasn’t sloshed with wine as usual, he probably was here to steal my rose bulbs. Never could breed his own roses.”

“Did Wilhelm have any other relationships that you know of?”

Merritt shook his head.

“He never did marry. Not surprising with his personality. His attitude could strip paint from siding.”

“Did you know he was building a boat?”

Merritt eyes widened in surprise.

“A boat?”

“We found it in his boathouse. Even Daphne didn’t know about it. It has the initials ‘M.G.’ inscribed in the fantail. Know anything about that?”

The old violin instructor’s eyes became distant.

“No. I didn’t know anything about it.”

I put my mug down and got up.

“Well, I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

“You’re always welcome here, Charlie.”

As I left, I looked across the street and saw Donna Sachs on her porch, sitting in her wheelchair. I crossed over and smiled.

“How are you today, Donna?”

Donna smiled. It was one of her better days, though her eyes still looked a bit vacant.

“Is your nephew here today?”

“Oh, he will be back soon, Charlotte.”

At least she recognizes me, I thought. That’s a good sign.

“Wilhelm Kohl died this morning.”

“Who?”

“You know, Wilhelm? The old engineer?”

“Oh! You men Wilhelm by the lake? He’s passed? How sad! Such a nice man!”

“I wonder what you could tell me about him.”

“Who?”

“Wilhelm by the lake.”

Again, Donna smiled.

“Such a nice man!”

“Wilhelm has no children to inherit his things. You’ve been around longer than anyone, Donna. Do you know of anyone he cared for? Anyone he might have visited or seen in town?”

“He visited the Garnier’s, across the street.”

“Wait, what now?”

Donna’s palsied hand wavered at the Garnier house, but more toward the garden shed.

“I remember it was ninety-one. My son just told me he was leaving to fight a war somewhere. My son served in the Marines you know.”

“I know, Donna. What did you see?”

“I saw Wilhelm! But he was at the shed over there, and the light was on inside. I remember hearing the violin too, coming from the house.”

“Merritt was playing violin that day?”

“So strange! He usually plays Paganini. No, that day it was something more modern. A love song…what was it?”

Donna’s gray brows furrowed, then lifted.

“I remember! It was ‘Sea of Love!’ Such a pretty song.”

“Did you see anyone else at the shed, Donna?”

Donna’s eyes were unfocused. She looked up at me and her eyes brightened.

“Charlotte! So nice of you to come by!”

The conversation ended there. Somewhat miffed I headed back to the Kohl place to check on my deputy. But the song “Sea of Love” intruded into my thoughts. I tried to imagine the song being performed solo on a violin and failed.

Jeffrey had already left so I sat in the cruiser and eyed the envelope. In my mind, I saw myself in a boat, heading into the mists that gave Foggy Point its name. It was a strange thing to imagine, but I couldn’t think of anything else until I opened the envelope and saw stark text staring at me: “DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.”

With nerveless fingers, I pulled out my pen and signed next to the stick-on tab.

That finished, I was drawn toward the boathouse for no other reason than to see the boat again, to bask in its magnificence. In the dim light, I saw a slight figure with a shock of white hair.

“It’s a beautiful boat,” he said, as he caressed the engraved letters on the fantail.

“I spoke to Donna Sachs,” I said. “She says she saw Wilhelm at your shed years ago. She says someone was playing ‘Sea of Love’ in your house that night.”

Merritt turned his wet eyes toward me.

“That was one of Mimi’s favorite songs. I taught her how to play.”

“Are those initials yours?”

Merritt nodded.

“Wilhelm came to see me. Just as he had so many times before.”

“Did Mimi know?”

“She suspected. I think she always knew that part of me was never hers…”

Merritt broke down, tears streaming from his eyes. As his shoulder shook, the boat shook a little beneath his hand, as if weeping with him.

I thought of the papers I had just signed, and I could almost imagine carrying a torch for a lost cause for so many years. Merritt ran his hand down the boat’s gunwales, tenderly feeling the smooth grain of the pine. Then he reached for the hoist. Despite his frail build, Merritt gripped the ropes with surprising strength, and the tackle squealed from neglect as the boat lowered into the water.

I walked to the opposite side, gripped the gunwale, and waited until Merritt met my eyes and nodded. Together, we pushed the boat out toward the lake and watched silently as it drifted into the mists.



Word count: 1991