all by himself and I figured he'd topple down the stairs if he didn't have help.”
I perked up. “You helped him with his luggage?”
“Down to the taxi, yes.”
“Do you remember how much he had?”
“Couple of heavy suitcases. That was before the day of these wheelie things. You had to hoist those old ones and boy, were his old. Looked like they came from the Old World.”
They probably had, I thought. “Do you recall if he had a backpack, Mr. Franklin?”
“I'm sure he didn't.”
“Was he going to Arizona directly from school?”
“Oh yes. He had finished the one or two finals he had to take and was on his way. I was in the dorm that morning studying for one of my own or I wouldn't have been around to help. He was flying to Phoenix.”
“His luggage was never recovered after the accident,” I said. “That's why I'm asking.”
“Hard to misplace that big one of his. I could hardly lift it. Must have had all his clothes from the whole year. Maybe he was planning on buying a backpack when he got to Phoenix. I know he intended to do some climbing. He told me as we jockeyed those bags down the stairs.”
“Did he say with whom?”
“If he did, it didn't register.”
“Do you remember a student named Steven Millman?”
“Steve? Sure. He was on the same corridor that year.”
“He lived in Phoenix,” I said. “You don't happen to rememberif he was in the same taxi intending to join Heinz in Arizona?”
“No idea. Wait a minute. There was something strange about Millman. Let me think.” A few silent seconds passed. “He dropped out of school.”
“That's what I heard.”
“You know, I never connected his dropping out with Heinz's death until this minute.” He sounded distressed.
“I don't know if there is a connection,” I said, “but it's one of the things I'm working on.”
“Interesting. Have you spoken to Millman?”
I told him what had happened when Herb Fallon called Millman's mother.
“So he's made himself unavailable. You know, I never heard about Heinz's accident till I got back to campus that fall. We had a convocation the first day we were back and the dean told us. I didn't know Steve was gone until a couple of weeks into the semester when it just came to me that he wasn't there.”
“Was anyone in your class a close friend of Steve?”
“I don't know. I think he had a double room that last year. His roommate was—”
“Arthur Howell?” I asked, reading the name off my diagram.
“Artie, right. Give Artie a call. He'll know where Steve is.”
I wasn't as convinced as Mr. Franklin, but I was certainly going to try. “I will do that. Just to get my notes right: no one else was taking Heinz's taxi to the airport, correct?”
“Correct. When the suitcases were in the trunk, the driver took off. There were two heavy suitcases and no backpack.”
“You've been very helpful, Mr. Franklin.” I finished off the conversation with my usual request that he get in touch if he remembered anything new. He promised he would,and I thought he sounded sincere. After twenty years of not giving Heinz Gruner and his death a thought, Andrew Franklin had suddenly had his eyes opened to possibilities he had never dreamed of.
For my part, I now knew that Heinz had taken off with heavy luggage. What had become of it?
The person to talk to was Mrs. Gruner. There was a possibility that Heinz had shipped one or both suitcases back home before he got on his flight to Phoenix. That was something she would remember. And if she never saw any of his luggage again, even in her grief she would likely recall that fact.
I got in my car and drove over to Hillside Village. It wasn't quite lunchtime yet, and I was able to catch her sitting in a sunny room enclosed in glass at the back of the building. She was talking to a woman about her age, but when she saw me she brightened and waved me over. The other woman got up and walked away, joining a small group near the window.
We caught up for
I perked up. “You helped him with his luggage?”
“Down to the taxi, yes.”
“Do you remember how much he had?”
“Couple of heavy suitcases. That was before the day of these wheelie things. You had to hoist those old ones and boy, were his old. Looked like they came from the Old World.”
They probably had, I thought. “Do you recall if he had a backpack, Mr. Franklin?”
“I'm sure he didn't.”
“Was he going to Arizona directly from school?”
“Oh yes. He had finished the one or two finals he had to take and was on his way. I was in the dorm that morning studying for one of my own or I wouldn't have been around to help. He was flying to Phoenix.”
“His luggage was never recovered after the accident,” I said. “That's why I'm asking.”
“Hard to misplace that big one of his. I could hardly lift it. Must have had all his clothes from the whole year. Maybe he was planning on buying a backpack when he got to Phoenix. I know he intended to do some climbing. He told me as we jockeyed those bags down the stairs.”
“Did he say with whom?”
“If he did, it didn't register.”
“Do you remember a student named Steven Millman?”
“Steve? Sure. He was on the same corridor that year.”
“He lived in Phoenix,” I said. “You don't happen to rememberif he was in the same taxi intending to join Heinz in Arizona?”
“No idea. Wait a minute. There was something strange about Millman. Let me think.” A few silent seconds passed. “He dropped out of school.”
“That's what I heard.”
“You know, I never connected his dropping out with Heinz's death until this minute.” He sounded distressed.
“I don't know if there is a connection,” I said, “but it's one of the things I'm working on.”
“Interesting. Have you spoken to Millman?”
I told him what had happened when Herb Fallon called Millman's mother.
“So he's made himself unavailable. You know, I never heard about Heinz's accident till I got back to campus that fall. We had a convocation the first day we were back and the dean told us. I didn't know Steve was gone until a couple of weeks into the semester when it just came to me that he wasn't there.”
“Was anyone in your class a close friend of Steve?”
“I don't know. I think he had a double room that last year. His roommate was—”
“Arthur Howell?” I asked, reading the name off my diagram.
“Artie, right. Give Artie a call. He'll know where Steve is.”
I wasn't as convinced as Mr. Franklin, but I was certainly going to try. “I will do that. Just to get my notes right: no one else was taking Heinz's taxi to the airport, correct?”
“Correct. When the suitcases were in the trunk, the driver took off. There were two heavy suitcases and no backpack.”
“You've been very helpful, Mr. Franklin.” I finished off the conversation with my usual request that he get in touch if he remembered anything new. He promised he would,and I thought he sounded sincere. After twenty years of not giving Heinz Gruner and his death a thought, Andrew Franklin had suddenly had his eyes opened to possibilities he had never dreamed of.
For my part, I now knew that Heinz had taken off with heavy luggage. What had become of it?
The person to talk to was Mrs. Gruner. There was a possibility that Heinz had shipped one or both suitcases back home before he got on his flight to Phoenix. That was something she would remember. And if she never saw any of his luggage again, even in her grief she would likely recall that fact.
I got in my car and drove over to Hillside Village. It wasn't quite lunchtime yet, and I was able to catch her sitting in a sunny room enclosed in glass at the back of the building. She was talking to a woman about her age, but when she saw me she brightened and waved me over. The other woman got up and walked away, joining a small group near the window.
We caught up for
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