The Cordova Mystery

“How is Uncle Thais?”

“Kristen,” Augustus Dolan greeted his cousin. He was taller than she, and as he hugged her Augustus wrapped his arms around her burying Kristen into his chest and smashing her glasses against her nose. He bent to kiss the crown of her dark hair. Quietly he answered her question. “He is dying.”

Kristen tightened her arms around his waist. “Poor Uncle Thais,” she breathed. Suddenly thinking of Augustus she pulled away from him. “And you? How are you doing?”

Augustus moved to a nearby chair sinking dramatically. “I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances.”

“Is anyone else here, yet?” Kristen asked. She stood beside him holding his hand for comfort.

“No, you are the first to arrive.” Augie squeezed her hand. "You don't know what it means to me to have you here," he choked.

Kristen smiled at him.

"You are my best friend. I could never get through this without you."

“Oh sweetie, I love you both." Kristen released his hand so that she could remove her jacket. "May I see him?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Augustus rose to open his father’s bedroom door.

Inside the elderly man lay in a massive Mahogany bed. Kristen could barely see him from the doorway but as she moved across the thick, Oriental carpeting she was able to distinguish him.

Thais Dolan lay on pale green sheets allowing his snowy white hair and beard to appear prominently. Kristin pushed aside the velvet tapestry that framed his bed.

The old man was sleeping. The light from the room’s windows were narrowed by partly closed drapes, but there was enough light that Kristin could see the yellowing color of her uncle’s skin. His hands lay outside the blankets, and she could clearly see the deep blue veins of his skeleton hands.

Kristin glanced at her cousin. “Augie, he doesn’t look good.”

Augustus raised a tissue to his nose. “I know,” was all he could utter.

They turned to leave the room when Thais Dolan spoke. “Of course, I don’t look good, girl. I’m dying.”

“Uncle Thais,” Kristen leaned forward. “I came as quickly as I could.”

“Is Augie here?” Her uncle inquired.

“Yes, I am here, father.”

"Has anyone else arrived?"

"No father. Just Kristen and me," Augie wiped at his eyes.

“Augie," his father stated weakly. "Go fetch me the bible, it is in my study."

"Of course, father," Augie patted Kristen's hand indicating she should remain with Thais. Kristen nodded she would.

As soon as Augustus left the room, Thais spoke quietly to Kristen.

"I must tell you something,” Thais stated, wearily opening his eyes.
Kristen thought they looked milky.

“You must promise me to protect Augie,” Thais said. His voice was barely above a whisper making Kristen lean closer to hear.

“Forty years ago I killed a man,” Thais said. “Augie must never know about Cordova…”

"Uncle?"

The old man's eyes closed.

Kristen leaned forward. She couldn't tell if he was still breathing. She watched for his chest to rise and fall but saw nothing. What did he mean? Uncle Thais was the nicest man I've ever known, how could he kill someone?

“Father,” Augustus cried. He knew the moment he entered the room that his father was gone. Still he rushed to the old man's bedside shaking him, but there was no reviving him.

“Augie,” Kristen urged him away from the bed. “He’s gone Augie, there’s nothing we can do. Come on.” She led him out of the room. They walked the long corridor passed the staircase to the end of the hall and Augustus’ room.

“We should call someone,” Kristen stated.

"There's a phone in my room," Augie pointed down the hall.

“Did you hear what he said?” Kristen asked.

Augie was crying into a handkerchief, which boasted a white lace border. “Say? He said something to you before he died? What? What did my father say?"

She thought about her uncle's plea and the urgency in a dying voice to protect the one he loved the most-- Augie.

“Oh Augie. Poor, dear, sweet Augie,” Kristen comforted. “I am so sorry. Your father just said he would miss you, most of all.”

Augie's room was as large as the master suite but unlike Uncle Thais’ suite there was no Mahogany. There was no Oriental carpeting nor were there any signs of a masculine force.

Augie’s bedroom was painted in a soft teal with brass furniture. His bed was covered in a pale blue spread with pillows covering the bed. Ferns sitting on large brass pedestals graced the sides of floor to ceiling windows that were covered in flowing, silk curtains that matched the spread. There were French doors that led out onto a grand balcony with wicker furniture and more pillows. Candles sat in every available space. Beside the bed was a table with photos, a brass lamp, and a phone.

Augie dropped listlessly onto a divan at the foot of the bed, as Kristen moved for the phone.

“Who should I call?”

“Call Danny, he’s the oldest, let him take care of the responsibility. He should have been here a day ago when I called him. And call Dr. Phelps, the worthless, moneygrubber; he should have never left Father’s side. Call him first.”

“Where’s his number?” Kristen pulled open a drawer of the table.

“Not in there,” Augie shouted at her. Kristen quickly shut the drawer. "That's where I keep my personals."

"Sorry," Kristen muttered. "I didn't realize I'd been away that long. I used to know where things were, now..."

“Here,” he went to his dresser and took a personal phone book from the top. “It’s in here.” He handed her the white book. “Everyone’s number is in there. But none of them will come,” Augie sank onto the divan again. “None of them care. I was the only faithful one,” Augie sighed.

“We’ll try anyway,” she did her best to remain calm.

She called Dr. Phelps’ office. He was not in but she left a message with his office nurse. She followed the numbers listed for Augie’s brothers. She left messages with their servants, their offices, the personal assistants, their cell pagers, whatever numbers were listed.

“They are all so busy,” he complained. “You can call all day but they won’t come.”

“Well then we should call Marvin,” Kristen suggested. She sat on his bed with her feet barely reaching the floor. She was only five foot three and delicate in features.

Perhaps it was the physical attributes that conditioned her to be strong in life. She was accustomed to taking charge, of being forceful. Her professors complained often of her tenacity.

“Oh, yes, that is good-- call Marvin. He will know what to do,” Augie agreed.

“Marvin Flores, please,” Kristen said into the receiver. “This is Mr. Dolan’s niece, Kristen Schiff.” She held her hand over the receiver to speak to Augie, “he’s not in.”

“Of course he's not,” Augie waved his handkerchief wearily at her.

“Please tell Mr. Flores that his client and friend, Thais Dolan has passed away. Ask him to come by the house as soon as he gets this message to help Augustus out. Thank you.”

Kristen hung up the phone. “That’s enough calls,” then suddenly remembering her mother, “Oh, I have to tell Mom,” Kirsten dialed again.

“Poor Aunt Barbara,” Augie decided he needed fresh air and opened the French doors leading onto the balcony. He sat in one of the loungers between the ferns and the Palmettos.

Kristen soon joined him. “Well, there’s nothing to do now but wait. Mom sends her love.” She joined her cousin on the balcony choosing a wicker rocker.

“Augie, Uncle Thais did say something else, something peculiar. He was mumbling something about - Cordova. Does that mean anything to you?"

“I don’t know,” Augie answered wearily. “He was probably delirious. The other night he was talking about swimming in chocolate pudding.”

Kristen nodded. She decided to let the subject drop. She thought about Uncle Thais. He was a dear man who always welcomed her into his house. She would miss him.

"Your father was a good man," was all she could offer.

Augie lay back against apricot pillows and placed his wrist over his eyes. “Life is too wearisome for me to participate.”

Kristen comforted him as best she could. Within the hour Marvin Flores and Dr. Phelps arrived taking control of the situation. The body was removed, and per Mr. Dolan’s wishes to his attorney Marvin, the funeral details were followed precisely. 

The obituary was posted in the local paper but carried nationwide due to Mr. Dolan’s wealth and status of the family members.

Wealthy industrialist and philanthropist Thais Dolan, died Thursday at the age of seventy-five in his Myrtle Beach estate following a long battle with cancer.

Thais served in the United States Marine Corp for ten years and was a Captain at the time of his Honorable Discharge. He was the sole inheritor of his father’s estate, the Dolan Shipping and Exporting International Company. With that Thais built his own company and expanded into such ventures as the Breakmore Hotel chain and Sunset Condos of Miami Beach, as well as many other business ventures. 

Six sons survive Thais Dolan. Daniel Dolan, CEO of Stauffer Oil Refineries; State Attorney, Haskell Dolan; Gene Dolan, Senior Partner of Dolan, Masters & Caruthers Law Firm; State Senator Henry Dolan; Major Craig Dolan of the Army Air Corp., Major Dolan flies Apache Attack Helicopters for the 42nd Air Born Unit out of Ft. Hood, Texas; and Augustus Dolan, a local artist. Also surviving is Annabelle Schiff, Mr. Dolan’s sister, and a niece, Kristen Schiff.

Graveside rites with full military honors will be held at Arlington National Cemetery at 3 p.m. on Monday, July 18. A memorial service to honor Thais’ memory will be held in South Carolina at a later date to be announced.


                   “It was a lovely ceremony,” Kristen said. 

Augie draped his coat over one of the silk upholstered chairs in the library and crossed the room to the bar. “I thought so too. Wasn’t it tacky the way they all show up when the cameras are there?” Augie said bitterly. “No one came until the cameras came out. Kristy, there is simply nothing in this bar but bourbon and brandy. Let’s go to the kitchen and make up some daiquiris.”

“You haven’t called me Kristy in a long time, my friend,” she smiled at him.

"I haven't seen those dimples for a long time either." Augie reached to place a finger tip on her checks but Kristen pulled away.

"Stop brat! You are so jealous of my dimples," she quipped.

"And your freckles," Augie teased. "You are just too cute, girl." Turning serious again, Augie sighed. "Thank you for being here Kristy."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," she answered.

They walked arm in arm to the kitchen. “Where’s Deirdre today?”

“All the staff has off for the funeral they won’t be back until tomorrow.” Augie opened the refrigerator and pulled out ice, daiquiri mix, and strawberries. “Look in that cabinet there,” he pointed at a cabinet. “There should be a bottle of Captain Morgan.”

“Got it! Now all we need is the blender?”

Augie and Kristen searched the kitchen for the blender.

“Maybe in the pantry,” Kristen offered.

She stepped into the pantry and pulled the chain to turn on the light. The Dolan pantry was a room six by ten with rows of shelves to stock items for the house. Kristen moved passed the toilet paper rows and turned the corner at the canned goods to search the next row of shelves when she heard the pantry door slam shut.

“Augie,” she turned to go back to the door and saw the blender. “I found it!” But the pantry door was locked. Kristen knocked on the door, politely. Augie must be playing a joke.

“Augie, let me out,” she called. “Augie, can you hear me?”

Kristen leaned against the door. She could hear muffled voices in the kitchen and then what sounded like a scuffle.

“Augie,” She cried. “Are you all right? AUGIE! Open this door!”

Kristen was concerned now. The noise on the other side of the door increased in volume. Someone was attacking Augie. She had to get out there and help him. She pounded against the door with her shoulder, but it was too solid. She searched desperately for something that had weight. Towards the back of the pantry by the potatoes and onions was a stack of iron skillets and pans. She grabbed one of the skillets and rushed back to the door.

“I’m coming, Augie,” she screamed. Pounding the skillet against the door she managed to break pieces of the panel open and reach through to unlock the door.

Augie was lying on the floor, the broken bottle of Captain Morgan beside him.

“Augie, Augie,” she rushed to his side sliding on the wet kitchen floor and falling beside him.

“Oh, my head,” Augie complained. He sat up with help and leaned against the island.

“Were you hit with the bottle?” Kristen searched his scalp for a wound.

“No, I don’t think so. Lord, I hope not! That would have killed me.”

“What happened?” Kristen helped him to his feet and over to a chair.

“There were two bandits here. They wore ski masks and they pushed me around.  I think I slammed into the refrigerator once or twice,” Augie told her. “They wanted to know where the box with the eagle was.” Augie looked at her puzzled.

“The box with the eagle,” Kristen mimicked. “Do you know what they are talking about?”

“No, not at all,” Augie surveyed the mess in the kitchen. “They broke our rum.” He said flatly, and then realizing that the liquid was all over his silk suit, “oh man, that’s a sin, ruining an Armani.”

“Where did they come from?” Kristen asked.

She was picking up the broken pieces of the bottle and tossing it into the sink. Suddenly an idea occurred to her.

“Augie, you don’t suppose they were looking elsewhere in the house while we were coming in?”

“Probably,” Augie agreed. “But let’s not go look, let’s call the police and get out of here.”

“You call the police; I’m going to see what they were up to.” Kristen hurried from the kitchen. She passed into the dinning room which appeared undisturbed, as was the living room and the library, and the servants’ quarters. The only room on the first floor of the house that was disturbed was her uncle’s study. That room was very disturbed. The drawers from his desk were emptied, pictures on the wall were smashed, books were pushed off their shelves, and the furniture was slashed open with the stuffing thrown about.

On the second floor Kristen found that the only room disturbed was Thais’ bedroom. It too was in disheveling. She made her way over the pile of broken picture frames, drawers, smashed vases, and cut mattresses to the window. The police were arriving downstairs. She could see two patrol cars pulling around the circle drive and Augie rushing out to greet them. She turned so that she could join them, when she heard a noise above her.

Kristen stared at the ceiling. It was ten feet above her head. She listened intently.

Again she heard it-- a small ping sound coming from the floor above her. She made her way across the rubble and out into the hallway. The stairs leading to the third floor attic and balconies were to the right. She opened the door and climbed the stairs.

Ping, ping, ping the sound drew her forward.

As children, Augie and she played in the attic on many occasion. They loved going through the old chests and trying on clothes and hats. The attic was quite large, almost the same size as the house below it. The windows were expansive floor to ceiling doublewide windows that opened as doors onto a balcony wrapping around the house. When the house was first build the room was a bedroom and the walkway around was a widow’s walk. Over the years many hotels and private homes filled the landscape until now the only view of the ocean was from the attic balcony.

Kristen found the attic had been searched as well. The sound she heard from Thais’ bedroom was the attic window banging in the wind. She stepped around the debris in the attic, overturned boxes, chests of clothing, and broken pieces of furniture to make her way over to the window.

“Lord, it looks like they took an ax to everything.”

As soon as she said it she noticed the ax. It was sticking in the wall. Frustrated by their lack of discovery the bandits must have thrown the ax against the wall and left it where it stuck. She pulled the window closed and latched it. The ax was next to her on the wall. She pulled on the handle; it was deep into the wood. She wiggled the ax up and down loosening the strong hold until finally she was able to pull it free. As the axe relinquished its hold it pulled part of the wall down with it.

Kristen peered into the wall. To her surprise she saw what appeared to be a step.

“Kristy!”

Kristen jumped. “Augie, you startled me.”

“The police are here, come downstairs and talk to them. You left me, and I have a splitting headache,” Augie was fanning himself with a broad Japanese fan decorated with yellow, plumage birds, and pointy, roofed temples.

Kristen smiled at him. Poor Augie, this was a lot for him to handle. The discovery would have to wait for now. She made her way back across the room.

“Come on, we’ll talk with the police, and then get you into some dry clothes.”

The police were there for three hours taking their statements, searching the rooms that were ransacked and asking a lot of questions. It was seven o’clock when they finally left. It was a long day. That morning they were in Washington for the funeral, then the flight down to South Carolina, only to be attacked in the kitchen, and hours with the police- the strain was showing on them both.

“I am so hungry,” Kristen stated. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get cleaned up,” she suggested. “I’ll whip us up some eggs and we’ll eat out by the pool. Maybe even take a dip before bed.”

“That sounds heavenly,” Augie agreed.

The remainder of the evening passed peacefully. But as Kirsten turned in for the night she lay awake thinking about the discovery in the attic, and the mysterious box with the eagle. She couldn’t help but think that it was all tied into Uncle Thais’ confession that he had killed someone named Cordova forty years ago.

Is Cordova his first name or his last name? Is it a place?

Tomorrow she had every intention of finding some answers.

The morning brought the return of the servants, lifting Augie’s spirits. Kristen found him enjoying breakfast on his balcony.

“Morning,” she smiled. “You look lovely this morning.”

Augie smiled at her. He was wearing a lavender, silk kimono with swooping sleeves that hung to his knees.  “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” She joined him at a small table taking one of his slices of toast.

“Hey, that’s mine,” he teased. “I’ll have cook bring you some breakfast.”

“No time,” Kristen smeared apple jelly on the toast. “You need to eat up and get changed.”

“Changed? Where are we going?”

“To the attic,” Kristen answered. She stole a piece of his bacon and pressed it on the jellied toast folding it in half.

“Oh girl, I know you have lost your mind,” Augie argued. “I am resting this morning. The reading of the will is at 2:00 p.m. this afternoon and I need all the strength I can get to face my brothers, if- if they even bother to show up.” He smacked at Kristen’s hand as she tried to steal a piece of cantaloupe from his plate. “They will probably just send their representatives,” he said sarcastically. “What’s in the attic?”

“Stairs,” Kristen breathed in a heavy mysterious tone.

Augie sat his coffee cup down to stare at her. He raised his head and peered at her as though he was looking over an obstacle, and then he tilted his head. Kristen laughed.

“Augie, you are so silly. I’m serious; there are stairs in the attic. I found them last night before the police came and now I’m going back up there to find out where they go and why they were covered up.”

“Who are you, Nancy Drew?”

Kristen smiled. She enjoyed the reference. “Just call me Kristy Drew, a sleuth for all seasons.”

“Well, I am not going,” Augie, announced.

“Suit yourself,” Kristen shrugged. She finished off her toast sandwich, managed to grab a sausage from his plate, and headed for the attic. “Don’t mind the noise.”

She left Augie complaining about noises in the house, and getting his beauty sleep. Upstairs she passed Deirdre changing linens in the bedrooms.

“I am going up to the attic, Deirdre. You may hear some pounding, don’t let it worry you. And call me by noon so I can be ready for this afternoon. I will be accompanying Augie to the reading of the will.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

In the attic Kristen used the ax to break through the wall. Her initial discovery was correct. There were three steps leading to a door, and a small room. It appeared to be an office. Inside Kristen found an old desk and boxes of papers, memorabilia, and various trophies, and medals from Thais’ youth, and his Army days. In one of the desk drawers Kristen found the box with the eagle. It was a medal from the Army.

In one of the boxes she found photos of her uncle with his friends. One of the men in the photo standing next to her uncle, and leaning on a jeep resembled Augie.

In another box she found Augie’s mother’s journal. Dana Lowell Dolan was Thais Dolan’s third wife, and the youngest. She died in childbirth. From her journals Kristen discovered that Dana was insecure about herself, with low self-esteem.

She also hinted at abuse from her father. But the most interesting entries were in the spring of 1963. Uncle Thais and Dana were newlyweds and hosting their first party.

         Meeting Thais’ friends- was for me an honor and I believe a tribute of his love. He presented me to each of his friends with quite a flourish, making me blush often. There was one man, Orlo Gimbel, a man that Thais knew from the Army. I did not like this man and spent most of the evening avoiding his company. He was very pompous and I thought arrogant for wearing his medals to the occasion. He had one with a silver eagle that he was most proud of and boasted loudly about it. Thais has invited him to stay over for the weekend.

The next entry in the journal was months later and referenced that Dana was pregnant. It was a simple statement of fact and nothing more. There were no more entries in her journal.

Kristen searched other boxes stored in the tiny attic office. She found an obituary notice stating that Orlo Gimbel was shot to death in a hunting accident at the Cordova Hunting Lodge in Colorado. Surviving him was a wife and twin sons. Kristen was sure she had the pieces of the puzzle.

She leaned against the wall and stared at a photo of Dana Dolan, dressed in a beautiful ball gown. She was a beautiful woman. Orlo Gimbel took advantage of her that weekend, producing a pregnancy, and Uncle Thais shot and killed him at the Cordova Hunting Lodge.

That is what he was trying to tell me. But, what is with this medal? Who were the two men in the kitchen trying to hurt Augie? What is so important about this medal? 

She turned the medal over and over in her hand rubbing her thumb against the eagle crest.

This could be the proof that Uncle Thais committed the murder.

Kristen dug into another box and discovered check stubs dating back to the time of the crime. Five thousand dollars a month was paid to a Jane Gimbel. Uncle Thais was sending her money for her twin boys.  Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. That was who attacked Augie in the kitchen. Gimbel’s twin boys! They are looking for evidence to prove their father’s death was not accidental. They probably want to stake a claim to the Dolan fortune.

Kristen thought about her cousin. Augie’s brothers would love nothing more than to disclaim him from the family. With this evidence Augie could lose everything, his fortune, his name, and the only man he knew to be his father.

“Miss Kristen,” Deirdre called. The maid was standing in the attic seeking Kristen’s whereabouts.

Kristen came down to her. “Yes?”

“You wanted me to tell you when it was noon,” Deirdre announced.

“Yes, thank you, Deirdre. I will be right down.”

Kristen placed the medal in her pocket and then hurried back to the tiny office. She placed the journal, the obituary of Gimbel’s death, the check stubs, the photos, and anything else she could find relating to the tragedy in one of the boxes. She carried it downstairs and out to the garage. She placed the box in the trunk of her car and drove away.


         Marvin Flores dispensed with the customary office location and chose to hold the reading of the will at his condominium in North Myrtle Beach. The doors leading to the balcony were open allowing the ocean breezes to blow against the white sheers that hung at their entrances. The sound of the surf was soothing.

As Augie predicted, representatives were sent on behalf of Senator Henry Dolan, Major Craig Dolan, and Daniel Dolan. Haskell and Gene Dolan were present on their own behalf.

Kristen arrived late. As she entered the large living room she saw the relief on Augie’s face. He was sitting on a plush white couch wearing his peach, silk shirt, and white slacks.

“Where have you been?” Augie whined. Kristen sat beside him and squeezed his hand offering a small smile.

“Sorry, I had to take care of something.”

“What have you got all over your hands?” Augie referred to the smudges of soot Kristen left on his when she squeezed his hand. He pulled out his lace handkerchief and wiped his hands. "Have you been playing in the fireplace?"

“Let’s get started,” Marvin Flores announced. “Thais wanted to keep this informal. He prepared a tape version of his will.”

Marvin held a remote; he pushed a button and a large screen dropped from the ceiling. He pushed another button to start the tape.

“Uncle Thais looks good,” Kristen remarked. “He must have made this tape years ago.”

“I, Thais Dolan, being of sound mind, blah, blah, blah, hello, Augie,” the taped image of Thais smiled at the camera. Augie buried his face into his handkerchief. “I doubt that any of my other sons found the time to come but if they did, too bad. I am leaving everything, my entire estate to the only son, who loved me-- for me.”

Again Thais smiled at the camera. “The rest of you have plenty of your own and you don’t need anymore of mine.”

Haskell and Gene rose to leave. They grumbled mildly about the outcome of the will but no one heard them over Augie’s cries.

“I am going to miss him,” Augie sobbed. “I love you, father.”

The tape continued.

“Oh wait, I forgot, I can’t leave everything to you, Augie.”

Haskell and Gene paused at the entrance. Augie leaned forward.

“I want to leave some to my lovely, niece, Kristen. You don’t mind, do you, Augie?”

Haskell and Gene sighed, and left the apartment.

“You get some too!” Augie grabbed Kristen’s hand.

“Kristen, for your kindness and devotion to Augie and me, I’d like to leave you two million and your choice of any car in my garage. How’s that? And the rest goes to my beloved son, Augustus.” The tape ended.

“Uncle Thais,” Kristen sighed. She leaned forward to accept a hug from Augie. She took Augie's handkerchief to dab at her eyes. “He didn’t have to leave me anything.”

“That’s why he did,” Augie said between sniffles. He stood and shook Marvin’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Flores; I hope you will consider continuing as my lawyer. I will need assistance from time to time to keep my brothers from trying to revoke the will, if nothing else.”

Marvin smiled, “Of course, Augie, of course.”

“Well little cousin,” Augie addressed Kristen, “what should we do now?”

Kristen smiled, “I think we should take a cruise.”

“A cruise?”

Kristen fingered the medal in her pocket. “Yes, a nice long cruise around the world. I have something I want to throw into the ocean for good luck.”

“Girl you are so mysterious,” Augie frowned. “But I like the way you think. Let’s go shopping for cruise wear!”