Four people were at the small park on the corner of M and 3 rd October 9, 2004. One of them, a child, disappeared from the park never to be found. I’ve been paying for that event for 14 years simply because I was there. This year, I refuse to succumb to the blackmailer. My wife is dead. I am dying. My small estate should be divided among my grandchildren. Why should I pay? I did nothing wrong. But my silence on that day has cost me dearly ever since.
My hands shake at my age and from the treatments for the cancer. I’m very weak. But my mind is clear. Not every cancer patient has the perfect recall that I do. Chemo and radiation can cause pain and confusion. I wish I didn’t have to remember what happened or what has happened every year since.
I was at the park, reading a newspaper and enjoying the fall weather. The sun was up. It was about 52 degrees out. Trees sported all the colors of fall. Leaves of all colors lay in piles on the ground. I’d just retired and my wife was home fixing my breakfast.
Two children were there, unattended. The boy, about 8, climbed the jungle gym. The girl, his sister was about 11 and more sedate. She sat on a swing unenthusiastically. Cute kids, I thought and returned to my paper attentively.
“Mister? Have you seen my sister?” The boy stood anxiously in front of me, looking in every direction. Groups of children were across the street, going into the school there. “Did your sister leave you, young man? You’re going to be late for school.” I smiled jocularly at him.”No, mister. We don’t go to that school.” He was almost in tears. I was on my feet, looking both ways for myself, now. “Where do you live?” I asked. He looked down at his shoes. “Nowhere, now.” My parents have a car and we sleep there. “Where are your parents?” I asked sharply. This was getting to be a nuisance.
“They went to work. They do odd jobs for people. Me and my sister were supposed to play for a while here. They’ll be back.” Indeed, they did come back a few minutes later. How long had they been gone? I frowned and stumped home as the boy raced to the car and his parents. I didn’t get a good look at the and they must not have gotten a good description of me, either. The man stuck his head out of the window to greet his son. The woman was mostly hidden on the passenger side. If the child had wandered off they’d surely find her. I had breakfast waiting.
There was a big newspaper write up about it the next day. I read it at home. A child was missing. Her name was Meghan Collins. And an older man was sought as a person of interest. What could it mean?
I never went forward. I didn’t think I had any important information about the case and it was all a nuisance to me. I paid for that decision. The child was never found.
The first note came in December 1998, along with Christmas cards and advertisements. It said, simply, “I know what you did Oct. 9 th . I saw you there. Leave $2,000 in a paper bag on the park bench where you sat that day and I will be quiet. Be sure to place a heavy rock on the bag”
Why did I pay? I had nothing to fear. But I was afraid. So I shifted the bank accounts and paid the money. I heard nothing for a year.
But the next year I got another note, demanding $2,000.00. Every year since I’ve gotten notes. Every year I’ve paid. Now I’m tired of it.
I’ve tried to catch the blackmailer. I’ve left and returned, only to find the money gone. I’ve watched from behind a tree. But he must have been watching me. I’ve come to a conclusion of who this person is. Now I want to nail him.
Today is “pay day” for somebody, or so they think. I’ve gone to the park and place a paper bag on the bench, weighting it down carefully. Quickly, my eyes dart around the park but there’s no one there. So I leave. My late wife was a bird watcher. She had some sharp binoculars. I’ll sit in my car a block away and observe this person with them as he creeps up to the bench and takes the bag.
It wasn’t a long wait. The child comes into the park and looks around. I only got a glimpse of her at the park but she looks like her picture in the paper with different colored hair and no eyeglasses. Of course she’s older now. She’s not really a child anymore. It’s been 6 years so she’s almost 18.
She strolls to the park bench and lifts the rock to retrieve the bag. She looks inside. Her expression shows her shock. Hurriedly she scurries out of the park and across to the school parking lot. Today is Saturday so the car parked there is alone. Dad got out of the car to greet her. She shows him the contents of the bag. He looks around and obviously tells her to get inside the car. But it’s too late. Cop cars show up from every direction. I have to chuckle.
My nephew Joe pulls up beside me in his cop car and gives me the thumbs up before joining the others. He confirms my conclusion later.
They set me up, the little family. Mom was back at their little motel room when dad came to pick up the kids. Little Meghan had slipped away while I read my newspaper and climbed into the front seat of the car before it turned the corner and came to pick up her brother. Their whole goal was to blackmail the old geezer sitting on the park bench. They only asked a few thousand a year, assuming they couldn’t squeeze much more out of me. Meghan stayed with an aunt for 8 months until the police activity settled down. The aunt never knew what was going on. She didn’t keep up with the news, obviously.
My nephew Joe joined the police force this past year and I’d confessed to him what had happened. He shook his head at my stupidity and helped me arrange this sting. In the bag I left my own note with just 1 word. “No.”
Now I can die in peace, or survive this deadly disease and learn to live again. Best of all, I can laugh at the people who tried to take advantage of me. I might not get much back from them. The kids were innocent players, at least at first. The mother plea bargained against her husband because it was all his idea and got off lightly, in my mind. But Meghans’ dad will spend a long, long time in jail. He was charged with conspiracy, false reports to the police, and blackmail. That makes me very happy.