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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1300040
When Ricky's father is killed, it turns out to be more than an accident.
Broken Silence
By
Justin Miller
© 2007



Prologue


         The telephone was ringing in his office, and a student just left after seeking help with the Intro to Physics course he was teaching.
         "This is Dr. Spellman," he answered.
         "Rob!  How are you?" said the voice on the other end of the line.
         "Joe!  It's good to hear from you!  What has it been, two years since we last spoke?"
         "Just about.  I've been pretty busy over the last couple of years.  Pretty Top Secret stuff, and that's actually why I'm calling you.  It's nothing I can talk about over the phone though.  Spring Break is coming up soon for you, right?"
         "Yeah, in about two weeks.  Do you want to meet somewhere?"
         "That would be great.  Tell you what, I'll have a courier send you three tickets for you and the family to spend the week in Breckenridge.  They can ski while we go over what I have to talk about.  It will only take a day or so, and the rest of the time you can spend with them.  This is all at the government's expense of course, you won't have to pay a thing."
         "My tax dollars at work," thought Rob.  He then spoke aloud into the receiver, "Sounds great, Joe.  We didn't really have any plans for the break anyway.  I'll run it by them, but I'm sure they'll be ecstatic about it."
         "That's great, I'll see you in a couple of weeks.  Bye, Rob."
         "Bye Joe."
         He hung up the phone and immediately called his wife.

Chapter One


         It was Friday, May 25, 1962, one year to the day after President Kennedy had made the announcement that a man would be on the moon by the end of the decade.  At that time, such an announcement was an unprecedented prediction in the advancement of science.  Now one year later, significant progress on the space program had begun.  Nestled deep in the bowels of the Air Force Flight Test Center, Detachment 3 (better known to the general public as Area 51), three hundred feet underground, Dr. Robert Spellman was hard at work developing the fuel to power the ship that would eventually put footsteps onto the earth's only natural satellite.
         There was no man better picked to lead the team of researchers than him either.  He graduated valedictorian of his high school class in 1934 at age seventeen, won a full-ride scholarship based upon his academics alone to the University of Notre Dame and graduated with his Bachelor of Science degree in physics in only three years.  He earned his Master's degree from Cambridge University in Great Britain, and his Doctorate from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, all within a span of seven years.
         By the start of 1942, the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor, and the United States was firmly entrenched into the Second World War.  Despite all of his training and education, he still felt the call of duty and joined the United States Army Air Force flying in many battles over Europe.
         It was here, stationed at an air base north of London, that he met Virginia Blair.  She worked as a nurse on the base and they met when he had helped bring in his copilot, Second Lieutenant Joseph Ritter, who was injured in a dogfight over Paris.  The spray of bullets had only barely missed Robert, and he was able to successfully bring his plane in for a landing.  Fortunately, his copilot miraculously survived.
         Robert and Virginia were wed in 1943 by the base chaplain and in January 1945, their only child, Richard, was born. 
         After the war was over, Dr. Spellman left the military, and brought his young family back to the United States mainland.  Coupled with his piloting experience and academic background, he took a position working with Lockheed researching new fuels to make the newly invented jet engine fly.
         After twelve years with the company, Dr. Spellman was tired of all the late nights and missed time with his family, so he moved them back to his place of birth--San Francisco--where he took a position at Stanford University as a physics professor complete with tenure.  Behind the scenes, there was talk of a possible manned space flight with a mission to the moon and Joseph Ritter--by then a Lieutenant Colonel and about to be promoted yet again after almost twenty years--was one of the senior members assigned to the space program.
         Robert and Joe were best friends, which tends to happen when one saves the other's life.  Joe had even served as the best man when Robert and Virginia were married.  Even though they went their separate ways career-wise after World War II, with Joe being a career military man and Robert being a research scientist in the civilian world, but always holding ties to the military and the government throughout his career, the two never lost contact and swore to each other that if they would ever have the chance to work with each other again then they would make sure it happened.  It was through his years of research, time as a professor, and his long time friend with high-level connections within the Pentagon and higher that Dr. Robert Spellman, formerly Captain, United States Army Air Force, was selected to be the project team leader for the fuels that would eventually put footsteps onto the moon.
         Though he was once again away from his family, he had made certain before signing onto this project that there would be enough time for them in his life.  Every weekend, Robert was flown to Las Vegas from Area 51 via a military-chartered helicopter and then flown home to San Francisco--at the government's expense of course--to spend time with his family.  In addition to the government paying him for his services to the space program, he was able to work into the contract a way to continue being paid by Stanford as well.  Every semester, he took the three best and brightest of Stanford's physics doctorate candidates with him to assist him in advanced research studies.  As he was still teaching, he was able to maintain both salaries and not lose his position at the university.

* * *

Two Weeks Earlier


         "Great shot, Rob!  You must've hit the ball at least two-hundred yards!"
         "Well, you know Joe, it had to have been a lucky shot.  Us tenured professors don't get a lot of time to just run off and play a round of golf two or three times a week like you guys in the military do.  This is a great course though.  Now, are you going to hit the ball or what?  The Nineteenth Hole is calling!"
         Joe placed the ball on the tee at the eighteenth hole.  A par three, one he had played many times in the last three years he was stationed in Nevada.  The green was a mere three hundred twenty yards away from where he was standing.  Only once before in the fifty or so times he played this particular course had he hit the green on the first shot, but he was feeling especially good about today.  He took out his 3W driver, took a couple of practice swings, stepped up to the tee, and lined up his shot.  He took one last look at the ball and again back at the flag flapping gently in the wind on the green in the distance blowing to the northeast.  He then looked back down at the ball, swung back, and finally followed through.
         Whatever Lady Luck was doling out that day, she handed to Joe a blank cashier's check with no expiration payable with that swing.  The ball flew off the tee with such accurate and deadly precision that Joe had only seen one time prior in his life.  In 1954, he had scored a hole-in-one, but it was on a two hundred thirty yard par two.  Still an amazing feat nonetheless, but it was about to be trumped.  The ball flew through the air, hit the fairway fifteen yards from the green, made a picture-perfect bounce that landed it on the edge of the green, and made two more short bounces before coming to a roll about ten yards from the hole that slowed just enough to dance around it three times before finally bouncing lightly off the flagpole and falling in.
         "What a shot!  I've never seen anything like that!" exclaimed Rob.
         "It's actually my second hole-in-one," Joe said, pretending to downplay the most exciting moment in his golfing career.  "Let's just call it an Eagle.  It was two-under par after all."
         But he couldn't keep himself composed any longer, and the celebration began at that point.  If the airmen working under him had seen the way he was acting at that moment, they wouldn't have recognized the man who was celebrating and giving his best friend high fives.  After the euphoric moment was over, they walked to Rob's ball and he finished the hole.  He wasn't as lucky as Joe though; he wound up with a double-bogey.
         "Well, on the bright side, between the two of us on average, we both got par," Rob laughed.  "Let's get up to the clubhouse, we have reason to celebrate!"
         They left the course and after cleaning up in the locker room and registering the hole-in-one with the front desk, they headed up to the bar.  The bar was on the second floor of the clubhouse and was pretty much a guys-only domain.  While it wasn't quite a hunting lodge, it definitely had the feel of one.  The room was two and a half times as long as it was wide, which was about twenty feet.
         On the long wall were two different styles of plaques commemorating all of the holes-in-one throughout the years since the club opened.  Current year's plaques, where Joe's would soon be were centered along the wall and contained a 5x7 photograph of the golfer posing with their club used to hit the hole-in-one.  To the right of the photo was the tee and golf ball cut in half symmetrically centered with a gold plate with the information about the hole-in-one engraved onto it:

Michael Sparhoff
Las Vegas, NV
Hole-In-One
March 27, 1962
Hole Seven
293-Yard Par 3


         At the end of each year, these plaques were taken down and mailed to the person whom is enshrined upon it and the names are added to group plaques that show the name, date, and the hole the golfer got the hole-in-one:

James Dodson
July 8, 1957
Hole Four


         On the wall opposite the bar was a fireplace perfectly centered upon it.  Over top was a moose head, to the left a bear head, and a few fish, and to the right was a fifteen-point buck.  It was a warm day so there was no fire.  The wall opposite the "wall of honor" was a wall of clear plastic windows (to not break if hit by a golf ball) that overlooked the golf course.  There were booths lining both the long walls and tables in the middle that looked like they could seat about one hundred fifty people if filled to the brim.
         Fortunately for Rob, there were only about twenty patrons that afternoon, because he purchased a round of beers for the entire crowd patronizing at the time as a token of celebration for Joe's hole-in-one.  The crowd of thirsty patrons were more than happy to help celebrate his remarkable feat.  After the bar had settled down, they sat down in a booth on the far side away from the crowd, overlooking the very same green Joe had conquered just ninety minutes prior.
         "You know, Ricky is graduating high school in a month and we're going to be having a graduation party for him," Robert said.  "Virginia and I would love it if you and Rachel could--"
         He was interrupted by the waitress, who had just picked up their empty beer mugs.  She was a young, spunky girl in her late teens or early twenties.  She had shoulder-length wavy red hair that settled down just above her bust, stopping just before hitting her name tag that indicated she was “Denise.”  She was most likely a student at UNLV who was working at the club to help pay for school as indicated by the pen she had to take the orders of the customers.  As she spoke to them, there was a subtle flirt to her tone.
         "Would either of you like anything else?" she asked.
         "Scotch, double malt," Joe said.
         "Same for me," agreed Rob.
         "And will I be opening separate tabs?" she asked looking over at Joe.  "Oh, you're the one who got the hole-in-one, congratulations!  You're both on the house today.  Clubhouse rules."
         "Well, in that case," Joe said, "bring back a couple of dinner menus with those drinks."
         "You got it!" the waitress exclaimed.
         "That being on the house counts for the round I bought for the bar earlier as well, right?" Rob jokingly said to the waitress, winking to make sure she understood he wasn't being serious.
         "I'll have to check with the boss on that one," she said with a feigned chuckle.  "I'll be right back with your drinks and the menus."
         She turned to walk away towards the bar, rolling her eyes after making sure no one was watching her.  In the three years she had been working at the Nineteenth Hole, she had heard the "on the house" joke after twenty prior holes-in-one celebrations, and this was the twenty-first.  The first time three years ago, it was funny.  The second time not as much, and this time it was just as old and annoying as the nineteen previous repeats of the joke.
         Rob started to speak again, "As I was saying, Ginny and I would love it if you and Rachel could make it.  The graduation is on June 9, and the party is on the tenth."
         "You know Rob, I'd love to.  As a matter of fact, count me in.  Rachel though, probably won't be coming."
         "Why not?"
         Joe sighed.  "Rachel has asked me for a divorce.  We're still living together, but it's pretty much over."
         "Another one?  That's your third divorce since World War II ended and your second since the Korean conflict was over."
         "I know.  I admit my second wife was a complete mista--"
         The waitress dropped off their drinks and the menus.  "I'll be back in a few minutes to get your order," she said, then walked away.
         "Shun Li was a mistake.  She just wanted to get to the States and she used me.  I was really vulnerable though when I went to Korea right after the first divorce.
         "This is how it always is, it seems.  I think I'm in love, then after a few years, I realize just how unhappy I am, so I completely engross myself into my work, which pushes away the woman I am married to.  Then there is a hush-hush divorce and they're gone from my life forever.
         "I guess I just have to realize that I'm never going to have the girl of my dreams."
         The waitress walked up again, for the first time not interrupting either one of their trains of thought.  "Have you two decided what you would like?"
         Joe ordered a twenty ounce prime rib medium rare and live Maine lobster with a baked potato and garden vegetables.  Rob ordered lamb chops with mint jelly and the same sides as Joe.  Both also ordered cups of French onion soup and salads for appetizers--Rob's Caesar and Joe's Italian.  Before she left, they asked her to bring a bottle of vintage red wine as well.
         The conversation continued.
         "You know, I'm really sorry to hear that Joe.  All I want is for you, my best friend, to be happy.  I really thought things were working out well for you and Rachel."
         "Well, they aren't unfortunately.  So we fooled you too, huh?  We must be pretty decent actors."
         "I suppose so.  How long have things been on the rocks?"
         "Just over a year now, things were really starting to get shaky around the time I called you to ask you to meet me in Breckenridge."
         "So why are you two staying together for now if she's asked for a divorce?  Does she think you two could work things out?"
         "No, it's nothing like that.  It's strictly for professional purposes.  The Air Force isn't big on divorce within its ranks, especially leadership, and I'm up for promotion to Colonel.  It's bad enough I have the one divorce on my record.  The annulment to the Korean girl doesn't really count against me.  So, I asked her to pretend a little longer and wait for me to be promoted, and I would give her more in the divorce settlement.  I know I'm asking her for a lot and in effect just using her, but she is okay with it. 
         "There aren't too many one-time divorcees who make it to colonel, and there are none who are generals.  I consider myself lucky.  I'm never going to see general, so she is willing to wait until after my promotion to file.  If she were to file now, I could pretty much kiss the promotion good-bye and put in my request for retirement."
         The waitress brought their soup and salads, along with a basket of bread and the wine.  The conversation continued throughout the meal, until both realized they were too drunk to leave.  They ordered coffee and dessert to help sober up a bit.  By the time it had arrived, the conversation had finally migrated towards Rob and his family.
         "After all of that, Joe," Rob said, feeling slightly overwhelmed, "I wish I had something bad I could talk about, but I really don't.  Virginia and I are as happy as we could ever be, Ricky is going to be his class valedictorian, and I have two jobs that I love."
         "Well there has to be something bad you can talk about," Joe said jokingly.
         "Well, I don't know about bad, but I do have something serious I would like to talk about.  I only wish I had done it sooner.
         "It doesn't take a doctorate from MIT to know that what I'm doing for the government is potentially hazardous and extremely dangerous.  One wrong move and the laboratory I work in with my students and the others from the space program could go entirely up in flames with the matter of the snap of a finger." He snapped his finger as he said the word to further enhance his point.
         "I also know from my time in the Army Air Force--"
         "Air Force," corrected Joe.
         "I was in the Army Air Force, and so were you, until Congress split the services in 1947.  Anyway, as I was saying, from my time in the military, I know that all the family would get at the time of a death is a telegram from Western Union delivered by God knows who, letting them know what happened.  I don't want that.  Who would want some random person they don't even know just showing up at their door and saying 'I'm sorry ma'am, your husband is dead.'  Promise me Joe, that if anything happens to me while I'm working on this project for the government that you will personally hand Virginia the telegram and tell her in person.  I would do the same for you if you asked it of me."
         "I will do that for you, Rob.  I promise.  I doubt it will ever come to that though.  You wouldn't have gotten to where you were today without being the careful person you were throughout your career."
         "Thanks, Joe.  I really appreciate that."
         As the two were slowly sobered up by the coffee and dessert, the conversation turned back to the more light-hearted feat of the day of Joe's hole-in-one.  After three hours, Rob paid for the round of the beers for the barflies and left a brand-new $100 bill on the table as a tip for the waitress before they left to return back to the Air Force Base.


Chapter Two

(NOTE: A work in progress, needs much expansion)


         It was Friday night around 9PM, about when Virginia and Ricky would be expecting Robert home.  Ricky was upstairs in his room doing some homework when the doorbell rang.  At the door wasn't Dr. Spellman, but Joseph Ritter instead.
         "Hi Virginia," LTC Ritter said as she opened the door, "may I come in?"
         Virginia opened the door into the expansive foyer and stepped aside, guiding him into the entryway.  The room had twelve-foot high walls and a vaulted ceiling.  Centered in the middle was a four-foot crystal chandelier that always seemed to give off the perfect amount of light, no matter what time of day it was.  He walked in, removed his hat and overcoat, revealing his dress uniform full of twenty years worth of awards and decorations, and hung them on the coat rack to the right of the entryway as she shut the door behind him.
         "Hey Joe," she said cheerfully.  "Rob didn't mention you were going to be in town this weekend.  He's not home yet.  Would you like to wait in the den?"
         Ricky walked down the L-shaped staircase after exiting my room, to greet his father for the first time in a week.  "Hi Colonel Ritter," I said surprisingly, expecting his father.
         "Hi Ricky, you know you don't have to be formal with me even if I look the part.  Just call me Joe.  Virginia, Ricky, can we talk?  I have some news."
         "Can I get you anything?" she asked, always the perfect host, even when the company is unexpected.
         "Just some coffee, thanks."
         "Two and a half sugars, one cream, and one half-and-half, right?"
         "Yes.  How you always remember how I like my coffee is beyond me, but I greatly admire you for it."
         Virginia blushed.  "I'm flattered.  Ricky, show Joe into the den."
         Virginia went into the kitchen to get the coffee for Joe while Ricky escorted him into the den.  An ember popped in the fire that was burning--Robert loved coming home to a controlled blaze, and it was an oddly chilly day this late in the spring, so it would be a welcome treat for him, as there hadn’t been a fire burning since probably mid-March.  "Fire is one of the few things that can either kill you or keep you alive.  How you use it is what matters," he always said.  On the mantle above the fireplace were photos of Virginia and Robert's wedding.
         The den was dark, except for the fire and a small lamp in the far corner.  The room overall had a dark feel, no matter what time of day it was or how much light came in.  The hardwood floors were made out of cherry and a similarly-colored wainscot ran halfway up the nine foot wall, encasing the lower half of the room in a warm reddish-brown hue.  The upper half of the room remained white, save the trim around the picture window, which looked out the rear of the house into the three-acre yard, the windows on the front of the house and to the left and right of the fireplace, and the trim around the entryway.  The leather couch and love seat were too of a complementary brown color to the room, and capping off the warm hue and feel of the room was a cherry baby grand piano--one Virginia had Ricky taking lessons on since he was five--directly in front of the picture window roughly at a thirty degree angle.
         After about five minutes, Virginia walked into the room and handed Joe, who was seated alone on the love seat to the left of the fire, the coffee.  Joe thanked her and she proceeded over and sat next to Ricky on the couch to the right.
         "Virginia, Ricky," he said after taking a sip of his coffee, "this is probably one of the most difficult things for me to do, but I promised Rob that I would.  Early this morning, about ten o'clock, Rob was in the lab.  They were testing a new fuel.  There was an explosion in the lab, and I'm sorry, but Rob was killed."
         Suddenly, the warmth of the room had disappeared.  It felt as if the two of them had been transported from an island in the Caribbean to the South Pole in the matter of a single sentence.  Virginia instantly broke into tears and Ricky just sat there in a state of shock, unable to move for what seemed like an eternity.  Finally, he reached over and took her into his arms, holding her while she cried; both of them letting the news sink in.  "Fire is one of the few things that can either kill you or keep you alive." Unfortunately, fire had decided today that it was time to kill.

* * *


         Three days later, they held Dr. Robert Spellman's funeral.  It was decreed in his will that he was to be buried, not cremated.  He had been a devout Roman Catholic his entire life and raised his family as such.  Catholic doctrine did not allow for the cremation of the body after death until 1963.  It was raining.  Ricky thought to himself, "every funeral I’ve ever been to before, the weather was nice, unlike the way the movies make them out to be." Today though, it was a classic Hollywood funeral. 
         Over the years, Robert had acquired quite a list of friends and family.  His parents  had died in 1955, both within four months of each other.  To this day, Ricky still believed that his grandmother died of a broken heart.  At the funeral were LTC Ritter and his wife Rachel (though there more for Virginia than Joe), his brother Jack and his wife and their children, Rebecca and Jaime, his sister Judy, professors and students he had worked with and taught at Stanford, and countless other friends and family whom he had gotten to know in his forty-two years on earth.  Because of the injuries his body sustained during the explosion, they had to have a closed-casket funeral.  It was difficult for everyone, because they couldn’t actually say goodbye to him to his face.  Funerals are really more for the family and friends of the deceased, rather than the deceased themself, and being able to say good-bye to them is easier when they can be seen.
         About four in the afternoon on May 28, 1962, a flag was handed to Virgina by LTC Ritter, Taps was played, and Dr. Spellman’s body was interred.  He was finally at peace.  Virginia and Ricky finally had closure.

* * *


         Two weeks later, high school was over.  Ricky graduated valedictorian just like his father and was set to attend the Berkeley School of Music in the fall, all those years of piano lessons had finally paid off.
         Before heading out with his friends to enjoy their first true day of freedom from high school, he decided to stop by the cemetery and pay a visit to his father.  It was difficult for him, as he was still mourning his loss.  he figured he could just to go talk to him, even if he couldn’t talk back.  "This was going to be the first of many times I did this," he told himself as he drove into the cemetery and started towards his grave.
TO BE CONTINUED.

Outline

I. Chapter One
         A. Story Introduction
         B. Affirmation of friendship and plot setup
II. Chapter Two
         A. Joe informs the Spellmans about his death
         B. Funeral
         C. Graduation w/speech
III. Chapter Three
         A. Ricky decides to stay a year before going to college to help his mother get the house in order w/ will, life insurance, etc.
         B. Cause of death is reported as an accident (by LTC Ritter), autopsy report conflicts
IV. Chapter Four
         A. Ricky decides to investigate, talks to remaining survivor about the day and finds out very basic info.
         B. End of summer, the trail seems to go cold
V. Chapter Five
         A. Skip to Christmas, a package shows up addressed to Ricky containing a reel-to-reel authorizing the "accident," can't tell who is speaking though
         B. Ricky talks to COL Ritter, who has been spending an unusually large amount of time in San Francisco, gets him to take him to Area 51
         C. More dialogue between COL Ritter and Ricky
VI. Chapter Six
         A. Ricky becomes convinced that his father was murdered, but is not sure how Joe fell into the plan.
         B.Virginia is not convinced after being told by Ricky
         C.Ricky is beginning to wonder if his mother is in on it, but shrugs it off.
VII. Chapter Seven
         A.The informant who sent the audio makes contact with Ricky and wants to meet.
         B. The two meet and he recounts the entire day's events of when his dad was killed, incriminating COL Ritter.
VIII. Chapter Eight
         A. Ricky comes home to inform his mother and finds Joe there. He leaves and Virginia tells Ricky they are a couple now.
         B. He is now convinced that his father was killed by Joe to get to Virginia. Determines to stop it at all costs, but still needs more proof
IX. Chapter Nine
         A.Remembers informant mentioned a golf club in Las Vegas Joe frequents, and decides to go there to find out information
         B.Meets with Denise and there is a mutual attraction, speak about Joe and she says he is there twice a month if not more and brought Rob occasionally but hadn't seen him since last May. After finding out why, she agrees to help Ricky.
X. Rest of the book (Chapters Ten to whatever, plus the prologue).
         A. Not sure what I'm going to do here (or for the rest of the story for that matter). I know I want to further the relationship between Ricky and Denise and get him back onto the base, perhaps to clean out Rob's house and office, allowing him to break into Joe's office giving him an opportunity to find some concrete evidence against Joe.
         B. Following this I want him to take the information to the authorities, such as the FBI and I would want a joint sting between them and the MPs to arrest him at the golf club.
         C. Close here on a budding relationship between Denise and Ricky, who instead of going to Berkeley, decides to to Stanford (he was offered a full-ride as a condolence for his father's loss) and majors in criminal justice and law.

Epilogue


         COL Joseph Ritter was charged, tried, and convicted of one count of first degree murder against Dr. Spellman, five counts of second degree murder against the two Stanford doctorate candidates and three airmen, one count of attempted murder against the surviving Stanford doctorate candidate, and six counts of conduct unbecoming of an officer and a gentleman. Because of the Spellman's personal convictions against the death penalty, he was given a dishonorable discharge and a life sentence without the possibility of parole, and remained in maximum security at Fort Leavenworth until his death in 1987.
         Ricky and Denise were wed after he completed his law degree from Stanford, through a scholarship set up for him. He joined the Air Force as a J.A.G. Officer and retired after thirty years as a Major General, having three children along the way, with the oldest being named after his late grandfather.
         Virginia remained single for the rest of her life, passed away in 1984, and was buried next to Robert in Holy Cross cemetery in Menlo Park.
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