Harry shook his head. “Possibly. Can you recall if there was any wind when you heard those sounds out at the Henderson place?”
“I can’t say for sure, but we’ve had a lot of wind lately, so there probably was. Why?”
“I think what you heard might have been pieces of rusty metal being blown by the wind, or even falling to the ground. There’s a lot of debris out there, around the machines.”
Max nodded slowly. “Pieces of rusty metal swinging back and forth. Yes, I can see where that might create a creaking sound. But did you see anything? Any sign that someone – or something – had been out there? I did see something.”
“What did it look like?”
“Like sheets or long robes… white or some other light colour.”
Harry rubbed his chin. “Then, I guess the next step is to keep an eye on the place at night.”
“Like a stake-out?” Max asked.
“Something like that, but with cameras,” Harry said. “There’s no place out there to hide and everyone knows my truck, so that’s the only way.” He stood up to leave. “I’ll keep you posted.”
By the time Harry got back to the office, Bertie had gone for the day but she had left several printed sheets of paper on his desk. The burial records gave the ages of all six children: Samuel, twelve; Martha, ten; David, nine; Jacob, seven; Esther, five; and Joshua, four.
She had also printed several newspaper articles and he glanced through them quickly. Josiah was just 43 years old at the time, a young man with a family. What could have happened to tip him that far over the edge? So, the bank was foreclosing on his loans… that didn’t explain why any man would have shot his children like that. There had to be more to the story… and he was curious.
***************
The next morning, when Bertie arrived, Harry asked her to see if she could dig up anything on Josiah Henderson.
‘What kind of information are you looking for?” she asked.
Harry shrugged. “Anything you can find on his background, where he came from, family stories… whatever you can find.”
“May I ask the reason for this?”
“After I read the stuff you left on my desk yesterday, I had questions. Why would any man, with a family, turn on them the way he did and shoot the children? What drove him over the edge? And why didn’t he shoot his wife as well?”
“He had lost everything, even the farm,” Bertie said. “The bank was foreclosing on his loans. He had nothing left.”
“That’s true,” Harry agreed, “but that still seems… extreme. I can’t help thinking there has to be more to it.”
Bertie nodded. “Okay, I get your point. I will see what I can find.”
“Thank you. I have a feeling this story needs to be put to rest once and for all.” He pulled on his jacket as he stood up. “Meanwhile, I’m going to check the camera at the farm.” He paused at the door. “Then I’ll go have a chat with Joe. His grandfather seemed to know everything and everyone and he passed on a lot of that information to Joe.”
