Authors note: This is a work of fiction. It does not reflect any actual events, and all of the characters are fictional. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
There is a real city of Oceanside, California. It’s San Diego County’s third largest city with a below-average crime rate.
The Grand Pacific Hotel is fictional, but during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, there were at least two similar resort hotels that did exist, primarily serving railroad passengers and tourists as described in this book.
— Tom Morrow
Chapter 5
The Grand Pacific Hotel had been a landmark in Oceanside for more than a century. Now, the old seaside resort stood partially torn down. But the razing of the hotel quickly came to a stop when the local inspector notified the owner of the demolition company, who was already at work tearing the place apart, that a new clerk at the office had inadvertently failed to give him all the proper paperwork; he had to halt. It appeared that an addition to a State Law required an archeological survey of abandoned outhouses, otherwise known as biffies, be performed before demolition could take place.
To further complicate matters, the demo crew found a body stuffed inside a third floor bathroom wall when the high-reach excavator accidently loosened plaster to the main structure of the hotel. The discovery revealed a corpse tightly wrapped in cloth much like that of a mummy. News of the discovery spread like wildfire across the city, across the nation, and around the world. Oceanside was getting attention; but it wasn’t the kind of attention they cared for.
The police department asked Professor Hanover, head of the university archaeological team, to help the coroner, Southgate Jones, analyze the mummy to determine its age and how long it might have been lodged between the walls. Professor Hanover was elated to be studying such an unusual find.
Several days later, the two detectives met with Lieutenant Hastings to bring him up to speed with their new case.
“The university team concurred that our mummy was, in fact, a male. Of course, the dog tag around his neck was probably a dead give-away.” Hastings was used to Stein’s sarcastic sense of humor.
“The Naval Command Investigative Service out at Camp Pendleton has identified the tags as belonging to Marine Lance Corporal Joshua Graham Scoggins from Waycross, Georgia. Scoggins was listed as being AWOL as of July 25, 1966. This info should give us a starting point,” Danny said to the lieutenant.
“Yeah, I think so. And you know good and well NCIS will probably want in on the action. But let’s first try to establish how he ended up there and worry about NCIS later,” Hastings said. Danny then told Hastings about their interview with retired bellman, Seth Adams
“He was an interesting man. Told lots of stories. And there were a lot. He started there back in 1935 when he was just thirteen years old.”
“You fellows get anything worthwhile?”
“Not too much. But he did give us the name of another old employee who worked there. Fellow named Ned Martin. Said he was the night auditor. Didn’t really make any comments about him other than to say he thought he was still alive.”
“You find an address?” Hastings asked.
“Found a fellow by that name living in Paradise Acres on the far east side of town by the Vista border.”
“Anything else from Mr. Adams?”
“Did talk a lot about the girls that came to the place during the various wars; you know, WWII, Korea, Vietnam.”
“Girls?”
“Well, you know, hookers. Think a few might still be around. Can’t remember their names but said he’d try to remember and let us know. We’ll stop by again and see if has.”
“So, there were some good stories, huh?” Hastings asked.
“Yeah, for the most part. His mind, though, at times seemed to wander off. He’d be in the middle of a story, stop, and then pick up on something else. At times he seemed dazed. I guess at his age, that sort of thing happens,” said Danny.
“I suppose it does. Probably happen to us if we’re lucky enough to make it that long,” quipped Hastings.
“Probably so,” said Joe.
“What’s next on your agenda?”
“Thought we’d head on over to Paradise Acres and interview Ned Martin, assuming he’s the same person we’re looking for,” Joe said looking down at his little notebook. Just as he did, Danny’s cell phone rang. It was Professor Hanover of the UC San Diego archeology team. He was at the old hotel.
“We’ll be right over,” Danny replied to the professor.
“So, what’s up?” asked Hastings.
“Some new developments. The professor didn’t want to discuss it on the phone.”
Lieutenant Hastings waved off the detectives and they headed straight to the hotel. Professor Hanover was waiting in the debris-filled parking lot when they drove up.
“So, what’ve you got?” asked Danny.
“Well, you’re not going to believe this, but we just found a skeleton.”
“You’re kidding! Where?”
“The privy. Found it about four feet below the surface of the debris.”
“Are you shittin’ us, Professor?” Joe said with a smirk.
“No, I’m not shitting you.”
“I suppose it would be dumb luck to ask if you found any sort of identification.” asked Danny.
“No, not yet. But we’re still digging and sifting through the debris. I’ll be sure and give you everything we find,” Hanover replied.
“Time frame?”
“Hopefully by the end of the day.”
“Anything else of interest?”
“We always find something of interest. You simply cannot believe the stuff people throw down these things.”
“I can imagine. But stuffing a body into a crapper!” Joe said shaking his head side to side in a disapprovingly manner.
“Detective, I can assure you it’s not the first time we’ve found a body or a skeleton in a crapper. It’s more common than you think.”
“Who’d do something like that? A sicko?” Joe asked
“To be honest with you, not really. But, basically, it’s a great way to get rid of a body. Not too many investigators go looking for missing persons in a privy, an active one or not. Nobody really cares to stick their heads down one of these things, much less get in, and start digging around,” the professor said turning and walking back over to the excavation site.
“Well, you got that right. That’s the last place I’d be looking,” Danny said as he and Joe followed the professor to see the skeleton.
“We’ll get ahold of our forensic team and have them come over and help remove the skeleton,” Joe said to Hanover.
“Yes, I’d expect you’d want to have your own people take over.”
“Thanks, Professor,” Danny said. He then got on his cell and called Laura Spahn, their forensic team leader requesting her presence again. She heaved a sigh and began to believe the old hotel site could be an unwanted burial ground for mass murders. She responded back to Danny that her team would be there within the hour.
While waiting for Laura, Danny and Joe watched the archeology team sift through the pit removing mostly what appeared to be construction debris. It raised a question.
“Yes, it is old construction debris. Don’t know anything about it right now, but I assume it either came from the deconstruction of the old outhouse or waste material from the construction of the section that was demolished. We’ll find out.”
“Yeah, okay, let us know. Could be helpful in our investigation.”
“Will do.”
“Say, any chance you could tell if the skeleton was wearing clothes?” asked Danny.
“It’s hard to tell right now. Some rotted old cloth was found very near the body. We plan on keeping that with the skeleton for your forensics team.”
“Yeah, that’d be good,” said Joe.
“How much longer do you expect to be with the pit,” Danny asked the professor.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe about another sixty or seventy years or so,” he said with a wry smile.
“What?” Joe said in a mockingly loud tone.
“To be honest with you, we’ve really just scratched the surface, so to speak. You see, we have to take it slow and go down one layer at a time, or, if you will, a year or two at a time. If our timeline is correct with what we’ve already excavated, we’re at about 1950 or so. Who knows what we’ll find further on down there. It looks like a pretty deep pit based on the size and age of when the hotel was built.”
“No, really. How much longer in today’s time?” Joe asked.
“Del?”
“Yeah, he’s screaming bloody murder right now. He wants to know when he can get back over here. He’s afraid to show his face. He wanted me to ask you.”
“I tell you what. You tell Del that when we find our first dinosaur eggs, we’ve pretty much hit rock bottom.”
“That’s not funny, Professor,” Joe said being more serious.
“Give it a few more weeks, Joe. I think by then we’ll probably be wrapping it up. But that estimate isn’t chiseled in stone. Just a good guess on what I expect. Fair enough?”
“Yeah, fair enough. I’ll pass that on to Del. At least that’s enough info for him to make contingency plans,” Joe said with some relief.
First and foremost, the essence of time was with the police department, forensics team, and the excavation crew. Del knew this, but the delay was costing him money. He asked Joe for help in such a manner it wouldn’t compromise his position with the lieutenant. Both detective and demo expert had a friendship going back many years. Joe could only help so much.
The Oceanside Police Department forensics team finally arrived somewhat later than expected because of technical problems they had encountered while working on another crisis in their lab. Essentially they had to find a safe stopping point so a lot of tedious work wouldn’t be lost to the whims.
After arriving on site, Laura Spahn began organizing for her and her team to safely remove the bones. In the meantime, forensics specialist, Sara Finkle, began snapping digital photographs of and around the pit and of the skeleton. She had to use her small telephoto lens and large flash attachment to scatter enough light to illuminate the skeleton—or what was left of it. A ruler of sorts had been positioned near the bones to give a perspective of the scene when her photos were downloaded into the computer for study.
“Detective, you know this place is haunted don’t you?” Sara said to Danny as she took photos of the site.
“Beg your pardon?” Danny asked not sure what he had heard.
“This hotel; it’s haunted; has been for years. I know it.” Joe and Laura overheard the comment. She gingerly pulled Joe off to the side of the site and out of earshot of Sara.
“Sara is a parapsychologist” Laura explained.
“A what?” Joe asked with a puzzled look on his face.
“A parapsychologist. She studies the supernatural phenomena that really can’t be explained by known psychological or scientific principles.”
“The what?” Joe asked again not really catching the answer.
“Well, in terms you might understand, she’s clairvoyant. She can see what is normally not seen by other people. She sees things beyond the range of normal human vision.”
“Oh really?” Joe said seemingly to understand better.
“Yes. She has the haunting apparition. Some folks think she’s a little bit wacky but she really isn’t. Once you get to know her, and talk to her, she comes across as quite believable.”
“And you?” asked Joe.
“I’ve always been a little skeptical of clairvoyance. I pretty much stick to the facts with what I do and try not to read into anything beyond what I discover in the lab. But Sara carries it beyond the realm of facts.
“At times when we’re really stumped in the lab, she can come up with something out of the ordinary way of thinking and carry us on to the next level. It’s really hard to explain, but I’ve seen it happen. It’s really hard not to believe her.”
“But why does she think this hotel is haunted?”
“Oh, she’s driven by this ol’ place many times and gets the vibes, you might say. She’s mentioned it to me in the past, but I’ve always scoffed it off.”
“Vibes?” Joe asked.
“Yes. She explained it to me one time. It’s like some psychic impregnation of space by a dyeing person. People, like Sara, have some uncanny ability to see, through clairvoyance, the reflection of a person where a tantalizing event might have occurred creating a telepathic image in her mind.
“You see, in her way of thinking, a dying man creates a teleplastic phantom which translate to a medium that produces a materialization in trance. Essentially, this phantom becomes an independent, but automatic behavior, and the image she sees would be a ghost. And when you see ghost inside a building, the place is considered haunted.”
“And the GP ghost are the people who died here?”
“In Sara’s way of thinking, yes.”
“So what we have here are haunted bones, huh?”
“Well, I suppose you could look at it that way, yes.”
A few minutes later, Danny walked over to Joe and Laura shaking his head. The bones inside the pit were ready for extraction.
“Man, I tell you what. That Sara is some kind of far out. She got into all sorts of talk about how this place is haunted. Had me going pretty good there for a while.”
“Well, I wouldn’t dismiss it. Seems we got us a clairvoyant on our hands,” Joe said.
“A what?” Danny said with raised eyebrows.
“I’ll tell you about it later. In the meantime, let’s get over to the pit and watch these haunted bones come to life. There’s a good chance Sara can help us with this case. We might need to pay attention.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m not.”
The two detectives followed Laura back to the pit so she could supervise her team as they carefully removed the skeletal remains from the pit. A black plastic body bag was strategically placed alongside the hole. It was determined that the archeology students would remove the bones under the supervision of Laura and her team.
“Joe, not much we can do around here for a while. Let’s go see if we can find Ned Martin. In the meantime, you can fill me in on what you and Laura talked about. Clairvoyancy?”
As they drove off and headed towards the east side of town in hopes of finding Ned Martin, Joe tried, as best he could, to replicate Laura’s explanation to Danny about Sara and her apparitions. Danny remained skeptical. He really didn’t believe in clairvoyance or extra sensory perception—otherwise known as ESP.
A few miles later, Danny suggested to Joe he should stop calling the GP’s outdoor privy a crapper. It just wasn’t dignified for police officers to be using such language to civilians.
“What if I told you that the indoor toilet or whatever else you care to call our beloved think tank, thunder bowl, throne, water closet, or loo, the common perception is it was invented by an Englishman named Thomas Crapper. If anything, it should be that our Mr. Crapper is the one who would be offended.”
“Is this one of your half baked jokes?” Danny asked.
“No it’s not. Now listen. You might learn something.” To Danny, this was the telltale signs Joe was about to unleash one of his parodies.
“One evening I was watching the History Channel where they were showing how our famous toilet came into being. And I’m gonna tell ya, you cannot believe how our ancestors handled the common problem of just going to the bathroom. And back then, they didn’t have toilet paper. They…”
“Okay, okay. I get the point.”
“No you haven’t. Now pay attention.” Danny was seriously hoping at this point he would get an emergency call on his cell. Joe continued.
“An Englishman by the name of Albert Giblin filed a British patent in 1810 for what is now known as the indoor toilet. But to get this facility into the hands of its users, he hired a fellow by the name of Thomas Crapper. The reason being he was a plumber and understood how the contraption worked. You see, back in those days, these stools were more complicated, and ol’ Thomas knew how they worked.”
“Get on with it. I’m waiting for the punch line.”
“There’s no punch line. Now be quiet.”
“All right, I’m listening.”
“Anyway, ol’ Thomas became famous when they started putting his name on the toilet. Later he became known as Sir Thomas Crapper.”
“Sir Thomas Crapper?” Danny said.
“Well, he was never officially knighted. He picked that moniker up when he started installing the thrones in the castles of the monarchs providing the kings and queens with the ultimate royal flush.”
“Oh, get off it,” Danny said in a mocking exasperated tone.
“Not until I’m finished.”
“So you’re telling me that’s how the toilet became known as a crapper. That what you telling me?”
“Yeah, I guess so. But there’s more.”
“Oh please!”
“Now Danny, this is history.”
“What next?”
“Well, while the device itself became known as the crapper, the term taking a crap is a term the Americans coined.”
“Oh brother. Now what?”
“You see, when our doughboys landed in England during World War I, the troops saw the name Thomas Crapper stamped on most all the commodes. And, as you can see, knowing how inventive American servicemen can be, the term took off like wildfire and, of course, has been with us ever since.”
“I had no idea you were so into history? I should show more respect for ol’ Sir Thomas.”
“Yes, I think you should every time you use one.” Joe said trying to be dead serious.
“Now, there! That’s the Joe Stein I know: Full of it. Ha!”
“Oh yeah! Well, I am just full of it,” Joe replied acting serious.
“Well, I am now so relieved,”
“I’m glad you are. You feel better, now?”
“Well, not everyone is as enlightened as you; so we probably should be a little more delicate from now on. But crapper does sound crude. Don’t you think?”
“I say there, my good man. I have no sympathy for the uneducated. This is not bathroom humor; it is toiletry history,” Joe said attempting a British accent with a slight upper lip sneer. It didn’t sound half-bad. Danny chuckled.
The two detectives arrived at the Paradise Acres assisted living home in eastern Oceanside. Walking into the main building they were directed by a staff member to Ned Martin, who was sitting in the television room plopped on an old couch, dressed in a bathrobe, pajamas, and house slippers. He was bald on top with light gray on the sides and had a stubble-growth of beard. He was glued to a re-run episode of Bonanza.
“Mr. Martin, can we talk with you?” Danny and Joe flashed their badges to identify themselves as detectives. The old man looked up first at Danny, then at Joe.
“Law & Order doesn’t come on for another thirty minutes,” Martin said, turning back to the flat screen television. “You fellas just stand by and it’ll be on before you know it. Then we can get to fightin’ some real crime.” Joe and Danny looked at each other wondering who was going to burst out laughing first.
“Yeah, ol’ Briscoe and Green usually get their man, don’t they?” Joe said hoping to get Mr. Martin’s attention.
“And Jack McCoy always fries ’em,” Ned fired back.
“Most of the time, yeah; he does,” Joe said.
“Who you think has the best legs? Abby or Connie?” Ned asked. Joe and Danny looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
“Ah, well … uh, I don’t know. I think it’s a toss up,” Joe said.
“Ah, come on son. You can do better than that.”
“Well, to be honest with you, Mr. Martin, I was always partial to Jamie Ross,” Joe said.
“Yeah, she’s a looker. Never took any crap from McCoy. Always stood firm.”
“Well then, who has the best legs?” Joe asked quizzically. Danny rolled his eyes at him.
“Abby. No doubt.”
“Yeah, they’re shapely,” Joe said moving his head around. Danny thought it was time to move on to something more serious than Abby’s legs. He got a little closer to Mr. Martin.
“Uh, look Mr. Martin. We’re sort of here in an official capacity. We’re investigating some crimes over at the old hotel you used to work for and…”
“Yeah, back in my heyday there was a crime or two over there…”
“Yes sir, I’m sure there was. We were wanting to know…”
“Is Briscoe and Green workin’ on it too?”
“Uh, no. Lieutenant Van Buren has them working on something else. She’s put us in charge of this…”
“What’cha workin’ on?”
“A crime. We need some information, Mr. Martin,” Danny said starting to get exasperated.
“What’cha wanta know?”
“We understand you were the night auditor at the hotel.”
“Yes, I was. I was one of the top dogs. Knew everybody.”
“Yes sir. Think you can give us some names?”
“You say Briscoe and Green are workin’ another case, huh?”
“Uh, yes they are. We’re handling this one. Now…”
“What case is that, son?”
“I tell yo what, Mr. Martin. We’ll come back later.”
“Yes, that’ll be fine. I’m always here. Be glad to help ya all I can.”
“Yes sir, that would be great. Anything we can do for you?”
“Yeah, bring Abby with ya. She’s got great legs, ya know.”
“Ah, yeah. We’ll do that.”
“Okay, good to see y’all. Come back anytime now, ya hear?” Ned turned back to the television. Danny and Joe looked at one another. Joe rolled his eyes while making a slight rotating gesture with his index finger to his temple. Danny shook his head; they left for their car.
“I think Mr. Martin’s cheese has done slid off his cracker,” Danny said walking to their car.
“No doubt. I don’t think there’s any sense talking with him again,” Joes said opening the car door.
“Nope. Don’t think so.”
“Now what?” Joe asked.
“Let’s just head on back to the office and regroup.
A few days later and in the late afternoon, Joe and Danny were making calls, talking over the case, and looking over their notes when Lieutenant Hastings entered the squad room.
“You guys still working on the hotel case?”
“Yeah, we are,” Danny replied.
“Anything of interest?”
“Not making a helluva lot of headway but we’ve got some info on the skeleton found in the privy. It’s Professor Hanover’s learned opinion from research of the area and his excavation that the body tossed in the privy was somewhere in the early 50s. The forensics team has determined it was a woman, probably a young women. Beyond that, they’re still trying to determine how she died.”
“When will they know something?” asked Hastings.
“Who knows? Laura said she’d give us a call when she discovered something new.”
“What about the Ned Martin interview?”
“It was a bust. His mind is gone. We won’t get anything out of him ever.”
“So, what’s next?” Hastings asked.
“Probably not a bad idea to go over to the library and start looking at the old newspaper microfiche on file there. We’ll look around 1950 on up to the mid-60s; that’s when Lance Corporal Scoggins was reported AWOL, on July 25, 1966. Maybe we’ll find something.”
“Okay. Good idea. But start stepping things up. This case is starting to get stale quick.”
“Yeah, I know. We haven’t had much luck with the elderly. We’ll find something, though. Something’ll break soon.”
“Well, I hope so. If it doesn’t we’ll need to get you back on the Dobbins case,” Hastings said walking back to his office.
“You want me to go to the library?” asked Joe.
“Yeah, you do that. I’ll go over to the OPD storage building and hunt around in the old records room.”
“It’s kind of late in the day. You want to get started on it now?” Joe asked.
“No, I don’t think so. We’ll start tomorrow. Besides, let’s call it a day and go grab a few beers.”
“I think I’ll pass today.”
“What! You’re going pass? You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not kidding. I’ve got a date tonight.”
“With who?”
“Sara. Sara Finkle. That’s who.”
“That nut case over in forensics?’
“She’s not a nut, Danny.”
“I think she is.”
“Well, she’s not. She’s interesting.”
“When did all this come about?”
“I found out she was single. Gave her a call.”
“How’d you find out she was single?”
“Detective work. I called her boss, Laura.”
“Some detective work there, pardner.”
“Well, it worked. Besides, Laura told me that Sara made a comment to her about me. Said she’d like to go out sometime.”
“Hey, we still in high school here?”
“No. But what difference does it make. Besides, she’s nice looking.”
“Can’t argue that. But what about your little barmaid friend?”
“She’s hooked up with somebody else.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Ain’t no big deal.”
Where’re you going?”
“Thought I’d drive down to San Diego and go to that old seafood place on the bay across from North Island.”
“A little touristy isn’t it?”
“Probably. I think it’s a little early for something small and quaint. Besides, they’ve got some really good specialty seafood dishes and a wide range of shrimp salads. And Mama Ghio’s New England clam chowder is to die for. You ever had it?”
“Yeah, I have. But don’t get me thinking about it. Yolanda told me earlier she’s cooking meatloaf, green beans, and mashed potatoes.”
“Well you can’t argue that. Yolanda makes great meatloaf.”
“Yeah, she does. It’s almost so good you don’t need ketchup on it. That’s the mark of a good meatloaf, you know.”
“Best I’ve ever had. And I like the way she adds a little garlic to the potatoes. Now I’ve got my mind on Yolanda’s meatloaf and potatoes.”
“Look, you just go on to San Diego and eat your clam chowder, and I’ll just go home and eat meatloaf.”
“Danny, you think me and Sara can come over and eat meatloaf?”