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Lili and Gil spent the night in a beautiful bed & breakfast in Amherst. They were close to the city center which allowed them to walk to dinner and enjoy the evening. The following morning, Gil dropped Lili off at the Crime Lab in Springfield, since she had to work. Before he drove away, Lili ran back out and asked him to come into the lab. Morgan, one of the young technicians showed them the item they had retrieved from the tunnel. She said, “It’s a brass button, but a very strange one. I’ve never seen anything like it. It looks like it was made from a spiral of brass rod.”
“Can we get an expert from UMass to identify it?” asked Gil.
Lili said, “Since this probably isn’t related to the crime being investigated, we could have Gil chase that down, right?” Morgan nodded and plopped it into Gil’s hand.
“No problem. I’ll head over to the campus.”
Morgan started typing into her computer and said, “Hold on a minute.” She searched with an expression of extreme focus. “It looks like the experts on colonial artifacts in this area would be from the UConn Department of Anthropology. Let me print you a list of faculty there.”
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IT TOOK GIL LESS THAN an hour to drive down to the University of Connecticut. He had an appointment to meet with a Dr. Scrumm in Beach Hall. He found the Department of Anthropology and asked around, finding the lab where Dr. Scrumm could be found. There were several people in the lab, so he called Dr. Scrumm’s name. A woman raised her hand while looking at a rusty piece of metal on her table. She had a large shock of frizzy red hair that was haphazardly scrunched in the middle.
“Hi Dr. Scrumm, I’m Gil Novak.”
“Hi Gil, I’m Delilah. Please call me Dee. What have you got for me?” She spoke with a British accent.
Gil pulled out the evidence bag with the button in it and handed it to her.
Her eyes lit up. “An evidence bag from the Mass State Police?”
“I’m a consultant with the Police Department in Greenfield, Mass. We’ve been investigating some mysterious tunnels that have recently been excavated from people’s cellars in Greenfield. I sent a robot down one of the tunnels, and we pulled out a lump of green metal. The State Police Crime Lab in Springfield soaked it in acid overnight and found this, which they think is a brass button.”
“They are correct, it is a brass button. I’ve read about these, but I’ve never seen one. This is a homemade replacement button from someone’s coat. It’s made from a brass long pin. Long pins like this were used in the textile industry, mainly in the seventeenth century. Greenfield, you said?”
“Yes.”
“The pin is crude and was probably made in the Jenks factory in Lynn, Mass, but it could have come over from England. What were these tunnels used for?”
“We have no idea. They don’t really lead anywhere.”
“Interesting! When you’re done with the button, you may want to offer it to the Historic Deerfield Museum. I’ll give you a signed summary of my findings so you can present it to the museum. What kind of robot did you use?”
“I built a remote-controlled robot from a tank-like chassis and added a camera and a collection arm, so far. I’m a retired robotics engineer.”
“Ooh, can I get your contact info? We may want to engage your services at some point, if that’s okay. Our engineering department is usually too busy for us.”
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AS GIL WAS DRIVING back to Northampton, his phone rang on the dash. It was Kenny Tran, a reporter from the Greenfield Recorder. “Hi Kenny!”
“Hi Gil, how are you doing?”
“I’m great. How are you?”
“I’m good, too. I’d like to interview you about your pursuit of the mole people.”
“The mole people? Oh brother. I’ll have to ask Detective Tindall about that.”
“I’ve already spoken with her. She’ll okay it, so go ahead and ask. How about lunch on me?”
“Sure. If Karen says okay, how about 12:30. I’m driving up from Connecticut right now.”
“Alright, so how about Bistro 63 in Amherst?”
“Since it’s in Amherst, I can meet you at noon. See you there.”
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GIL WALKED INTO THE restaurant and saw Kenny waving to him from a table in the back. Gil shook Kenny’s hand and said, “You were right, Karen said I could talk to you about my part of the investigation.”
A server came and took their drink orders. Gil ordered lemonade and Kenny ordered iced tea.
“How did you get involved in this investigation?”
“Detective Tindall called me and asked if I could make a robot to help them explore some mysterious tunnels. She asked because she knows that I am a retired robotics engineer.”
“What kind of robot did you make?”
“I started with a commercially available chassis that has tank-like treads on it. Then I added a control system and a video-camera with a light. Later on, I added a robotic arm and a container for evidence collection. I’ll show it to you after lunch. It’s in my car.”
The server brought their drinks and took their orders. Gil ordered the Thai chicken wrap and Kenny ordered the shrimp and avocado bowl.
“So far, I’ve collected a small, green lump of material which was sent to the Massachusetts State Crime Lab in Springfield. They x-rayed it, then cleaned it up, and it turned out to be an unusual-looking brass button with a spiral shape. I brought the button to the University of Connecticut’s Department of Anthropology. They identified it as a homemade button made from a long pin made in the seventeenth century. The pin was likely made in Lynn. Here it is.”
Kenny took a picture of it with his phone. He also snapped a picture of Gil. “So, what does this evidence tell you?”
“We don’t consider this evidence related to the investigation. It was just a random finding from a town that was settled in the seventeenth century.”
“What will happen to the brass button?”
“That’s up to the police. I will recommend that it go to the museum at Old Deerfield.”
“Anything else you want to add? I don’t have any more questions.”
“Nothing on that. Have you done any followup with Susan Rasmussen and Pam Leone from our last case?”
“Not yet. I have it in my calendar to inquire after a year from that ordeal. Have you talked to them?”
The server brought their meals and they started to eat. “I saw Pam the other day at a dinner party and she seemed happy. How are things going at the Recorder?”
“Things are good. I always thought that this gig would be a stepping-stone to a job with a bigger news outlet. But my wife and I are really happy living and working in this area. It’s a great place to raise our kids.”
After lunch, Gil set up his robot and Kenny took a few more pictures.
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GIL SET UP AN APPOINTMENT to meet that afternoon with someone from the Historical Society of Greenfield. He walked into the small museum and introduced himself to a woman about his age, who was wearing a dark-green Victorian-era dress with a white bonnet. “Hello, I’m Veronica. Ned will be meeting with us in a minute.”
“I’m Gil. You didn’t have to dress up just to meet with me.”
“Oh, I always dress like this.” Gil scrutinized her, trying to tell if she was serious. Ned shuffled through the doorway, a puffy man with long, gray hair and denim overalls. “Gil, this is Ned. A police investigation, you said?”
“Yes. Have you heard about the mysterious tunnels recently found in Greenfield?”
“Oh, right, the mole people. How can we help with that?”
“I’m interested in any information you may have about the brooks that run through the town.”
“Well, there’s Cherry Rum Brook, over by Four Corners School,” said Ned.
“Yes, I know about that one. I wonder why it’s called Cherry Rum. But, I’m most interested in the brooks that are now buried under the town. I grew up in Greenfield, and when I was a kid, a sink hole opened up in the field behind the Junior High School. My teacher told our class about a brook that ran under the town called Graves Brook. He said that some men were killed by Indians there.”
“Huh. Let me find some of our older maps,” said Veronica. She pulled out a large box and started leafing through what looked like some very old maps.
Ned started leafing through an old book. “By the way, our Junior High School is now called the Middle School and our town is now a city.”
“Oh right, sorry.” Gil wandered around looking at an exhibit on transportation that showed street cars in the town. He’d never heard of that.
“Here we go,” said Veronica. “Here’s a map from 1871 that shows the brook you’re talking about in great detail. I’ve never even heard of this. Unfortunately, this map doesn’t label the brook at all.” She rummaged around some more and said, “Here’s one from 1830. It has your brook labeled as Gray Brook.” Gil looked at the map, but it wasn’t as detailed as the first.
“Let me do a computer search.” She opened a laptop computer and got to work while Gil wandered around the museum.
“Jackpot!” said Ned. “I’ve found a passage that mentions your brook. It explains that it’s called Graves Brook because three men killed by Indians in 1724 were buried where they fell, next to the brook. That would have been part of Dummer’s War. It was named after a Massachusetts politician named William Dummer.” Gil struggled not to make a crack about the name, as he hadn’t yet detected any sense of humor.
Veronica said, “I’ve found a few newspaper articles. This one says it’s called Graves Brook because a man named Graves was killed and buried there. That’s kind of hard to believe. This article says it’s been called Graves, Grave, and Grays Brook in various deeds in town, and that later it’s was called Maple Brook. Another article says that an unnamed stream by Lincoln Street combines with a stream fed by a large spring up in Highland Park to form Graves Brook. The spring at Highland Park is where the town got its water supply.”
“Well, that’s all good information. I think you’ve found enough for me, for now. Could I get a copy of that 1871 map that shows the brook in pretty good detail?”
“If you give me your email, I’ll send you all of these things, and I’ll see if I can find some more.” said Veronica. “Now, could I interest you both in a cup of tea?”