Out the window to the left were the stern Gothic buildings of Fordham University, uniformed in gray stone. Ahead was Bronx Park with the zoo on the right of the road and the botanical gardens to the left. Joe Hardy liked to know where he was and where he was going. He wasn't especially familiar with New York but he peered now and then at the street map he had purchased after seeing the one in Heinze's room. He leaned back into the comfortable back seat of Prof. Coville's Packard sedan. His brother was in the front seat.
The normally good-humored professor did not speak much during the drive. He seemed focused on the road but Frank suspected he was preoccupied by the question of why the police would ask him to meet them in Pelham Bay Park. It had only been hours earlier that the police had concluded their interviews at the university. The broad Pelham Parkway took them quickly through a residential district of wood-frame houses to the wide forested expanses of the park. The early evening sunlight glittered on the fresh green leaves. It was tranquil in the park on a weekday evening. Prof. Coville pulled his car into a parking lot. There were police cars there waiting for him.
A man in a gray raincoat with a black fedora stepped out from a group of uniformed and non-uniformed police officers. He had a broad, friendly face. Frank guessed he might be in his mid-thirties.
"Good evening, Lieutenant Korman," Prof. Coville greeted the officer. "I didn't expect to hear back from you so soon."
"Good evening to you, professor. It's a short walk to the shoreline from here." Lt. Korman led them along a winding path that ran through a grassy picnic area. The other police stayed by their cars. "We contacted the cab company and got the information we were looking for. They picked up a man giving his name as Heinze and matching his description Wednesday morning and brought him here."
"That fits with the map we found in his hotel room," noted Joe.
"This is an enormous park, as you know. We had men starting from the parking lot and working their way toward the shore."
As they reached the waters of Eastchester Bay they were greeted by the loud cries of seagulls wheeling about in the sky as if trying to catch the last yellow rays of sunshine. Prof. Coville looked tense, like a man girding himself for something unpleasant but unavoidable. They followed the lieutenant to a long wooden pier that extended out into the sea. Joe imagined that it was used for fishing. It was a little dilapidated and Joe eyed it warily. "Don't worry," said Lt. Korman with a smile, "you won't fall through. Our boys check all this stuff every year for safety." There were strollers on the long shoreline but the pier was deserted, except that near the other end stood a uniformed policeman in his long coat. As their strides took them over the weather-worn gray planks they could see that the policeman stood guard over a small pile of clothing.
"This is what we found," said the lieutenant sadly, almost apologetically. He knelt down and touched a raincoat. Lifting it aside, he revealed a jacket.
"It certainly looks like the one worn by Otto," said Prof. Coville.
"What are you saying?" Joe looked squarely at Lt. Korman. "That he jumped off the pier and killed himself?" Joe could not reconcile the animated man he had met at the air station with the notion of suicide.
The lieutenant was unruffled by Joe's incredulity. "We know about the telegram from his wife. Suppose it came as a sudden shock to him. He's arrived across the Atlantic. He feels he's been abandoned. It must have been a spur of the moment decision."
Prof. Coville emitted a long sigh and cleared his throat. "It isn't like the Otto Heinze I know, but then I have been apart from him for some eight years." He looked gravely down at the waters of the bay flecked with golden light.
Frank looked around at the low, distant silhouette of land that was Long Island; the rest of Pelham Bay Park across a causeway; the cottages, boatsheds and shipyards of City Island. It all seemed hundreds of miles away from the bustling metropolis. "Mr. Heinze had a keen appreciation of the sea. Remember what he said about the zeppelin flight? Maybe this is where he chose to make an end of it."
Lt. Korman nodded. "His passport is in his coat pocket. There's no question who these clothes belong to, wouldn't you gentlemen agree?"
Frank turned from viewing the waters of Long Island Sound to announce, "There's something missing. His briefcase wasn't in the hotel room."
Joe's eyes flashed with inspiration and some vehemence. "What if Heinze came down here to meet someone, someone who killed him and made off with the briefcase?"
"Now look here young man, you haven't a shred of evidence for that kind of speculation."
"What if someone met Heinze here and kidnapped him?" suggested Frank.
Lt. Korman did not argue. "I'm going to get a dive team here and look around. We'll settle this."
"What if they don't find anything?" asked Frank.
The lieutenant shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't have unlimited time or an unlimited budget to chase down missing German scientists. For all I know he could have high-tailed it back to his Führer."
"Have you paid any attention to what Prof. Coville and Prof. Lombard said about him?" demanded Joe.
"Easy, Joe," said his brother. "Let the dive team have its chance. Lieutenant, is there a possibility a witness saw what happened on the pier?"
"We'll release this story to the press. I'll have any witnesses contact me. But you can guess that this is a pretty quiet spot on a Wednesday morning at this time of year."
"You must also direct your men to search for the documents, the ones that were in the briefcase." Prof. Coville made the request firmly.
"Could you be clearer as to what they were?" asked Lt. Korman.
"Otto did not show them to me but he said he had brought complete sets of drawings of the designs that he and his group were working on."
"He could have taken them with him into the bay," said the police officer.
"Or he could have discarded them somewhere in the park. I insist you conduct a proper search."
On the sombre drive back from the park Joe could not help asking the professor, "Is there anything you know about Mr. Heinze's disappearance you haven't been telling us?"
The professor's face was set in a mask as he stared grimly ahead at the road. Joe thought he might lose his temper but, after a pause, he said gruffly, "I assure you that I've told you the truth as I know it."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so blunt."
"It's understandable to be emotional in the face of death. It is such a terrible loss and so unexpected."
"I wouldn't go into mourning yet," admonished Frank. "There are some small points that make me suspicious."
"Please continue," urged Prof. Coville.
"I hope I'm not making too much of little things, but remember that the hotel staff told us Mr. Heinze left his shoes for polishing on Tuesday night? Why would a man contemplating suicide have his shoes polished? Of course, I can understand the force of habit. Perhaps having shiny shoes made him feel better."
"It would make more sense if he intended to meet somebody," the younger Hardy suggested. The others nodded.
"Then there's the matter of the long-distance phone calls," continued Frank.
"But there were no long-distance phone calls."
"Just what I mean. I can't believe that after receiving the telegram from his wife he wouldn't try to contact her. That's especially the case if it came as a surprise."
"For a man supposedly so broken up by his wife leaving him, he didn't even have a photograph of her in his luggage," added Joe.
"Maybe he had a small one in his wallet, but I take your point."
Prof. Coville smiled. It was not a large smile but it radiated warmth. "Thank you, young man, for giving me reason to hope. I admire you for keeping a cool head at this time."
"I think our investigation is not over, not by a long shot."