2015

Jackson Moffatt never once contemplated initiating a search for his biological parents. He wanted no part of any parent who had so obviously wanted no part of him. Nor did he want their money. The trust fund remained untouched. Well, almost untouched. And multiplied many times over.

For more than fifty years Jackson lived in accord with this philosophy. Then in his fifty-third year all hell broke loose. He became the target of a pursuit. Not once, not twice but now for a fourth time. He tried disappearing. Relocated three times and changed names twice. All to no avail. Each time they found him. There was no escape.

*

Jackson found a blood-stained envelope addressed to Jackson Moffatt, the name he'd legally adopted less than six weeks earlier. It was pushed beneath his front door. There was no sender information. Nor was the envelope stamped. It had been hand delivered sometime during the night. They'd found him again.

What should he do? Run again? Futility hit home. One couldn't outrun the devil. Precedent proved that. Three times he'd tried. And three times in the space of one year, he'd failed. How had they found him so quickly? And what was it about him that attracted such interest? Jackson had no idea. What did they want from him?

Then there was the question that troubled most. Why now? He had arrived on this earth a half century ago. John Fitzgerald Kennedy was President. A man named Hoover ruled the FBI. And landing on the moon was still a dream.

As a baby, he'd been found abandoned on the front steps of an orphanage. These details had come from his mother. His adoptive, and real mother.

Until a year ago, Jackson had lead an uneventful life. Lonely, perhaps. But lonely by choice. What then triggered this insanity? What knowledge did he possess that justified such an irrational pursuit?

The same question emerged yet again. Why now? Still an answer eluded him.

*

Jackson again scanned the envelope. This one was different. It contained a message written in a child-like scrawl. 'DNA will prove who U R.'

His anger exploded to new heights. Who had access to his DNA history? And what secrets would this information reveal? Who was he? And who were these pursuers? What did they want? Could they be bought off? He doubted it. Money wasn't their motivator.

He ripped open the envelope and saw a single sheet of A4 paper containing five lines. The fears intensified as his memory regressed more than thirty years to the trio of events that had in so many ways determined his reclusive lifestyle, and motivated his decision to flee California.

Fact one: You were adopted

Fact two: Your dad died in a trucking accident

Fact three: Your mum vanished without trace

Coincidence or conspiracy

It's not too late to discover the truth


Facts one and three were true. Not so number two. His dad had, in fact died in prison.
Jackson pocketed the note. This was the fourth time in the past year he'd received anonymous mail questioning his past. Now though wasn't the time to ponder those questions. Work called. He was already late. A thousand thoughts flooded his brain. Who were these people? And what did they want? The five-lined message bounced around in his head. He tried to absorb its message. What were they implying?

And what truth? Other than the error in how his father died there was no challenging the quoted facts. His birth mother had, for reasons unknown to him, surrendered him at birth. Not an unusual situation for an unmarried woman in the pre-pill and morally righteous era of the early 1960's. Adoption was the sensible option. It freed the mother of responsibility and offered the child opportunity and future. At least in theory.

And yes, his adoptive mother vanished. Just prior to his twenty-first birthday.

*

Ten months ago, on receiving the first letter, Jackson employed a private investigator. Money wasn't a problem. He had found his nest egg decades ago, weeks after his mother vanished. Each discovery of the investigator confirmed the obvious. Lies had been told. He wasn't who they said he was. Who then was he? And, why the secrecy? Who were his biological parents?

Abruptly the investigator vanished. The weekly reports stopped. Jackson's calls went unanswered. Then he received a call that terrified him. It was short and brief. "Your snoop's dead and you'll be next. So back off or die. We know where you are, and we're coming."

How had they found him in Vancouver? Had the investigator provided his address? Before he died?

That led to Jackson's second panicked disappearance. Atlanta became his new home. He travelled light with just two possessions, his bank details and the investigator's detailed report on the orphanage, the investigation and the staff. Jackson now recalled the information contained. It was stored on a USB stick. And in his memory.

The investigator had been thorough and organised. The report's first section dealt with the orphanage. A series of indented comments followed:

Orphanage;

1) Orphanage records have been deleted. The one exception being the retention of the name of the young woman who allegedly found the baby, Jennifer Palmer.

2) One witness located. Elderly woman, now in her seventies. Maria Pontasova worked in kitchen at time of child's arrival. Maria's English was limited but her memory remained precise. She remembered the baby found abandoned on their doorstep fifty years earlier. She recalled a scribbled note was pinned to the outside of the crib. It provided a date of birth, August 2nd, 1962.

3) Child was less than a week old. He didn't have a name. It did however carry a message. 'Born of lust, not love.'

4) Miss Palmer who discovered the child identified a black sedan, possibly a Ford speeding from the scene with its licence plates concealed.

5) Miss Palmer vanished within days of child's arrival. A body was located several weeks later hanging from a tree in an area of regenerated forest some ten miles from the orphanage. Based on physical resemblance and the clothing worn the body was identified and matched to Jennifer Palmer.


Police Investigation:

1) Original officer, Davy Davidson removed from investigation. FBI assumed control. Why?

2) Davidson aired his anger to Miss Pontasova. She claimed he refused to accept official finding of Palmer's suicide.

3) No inquest into young woman's death.

4) No attempt made to identify young woman.

5) Less than two months later, in October 1962 Police Officer Davidson was killed in a bungled drug raid.

Unresolved Questions:

1) Why did FBI take control?

2) No family ever came forward to claim body of Miss Palmer. She was never ever positively identified. And cremation ensured there'd be no evidence available for forensic investigation in the future. Who authorised the cremation?

3) Why did the FBI push the theory Miss Palmer was the child's mother? Miss Pontasova mentioned this. She also stated and I'll use her words exactly. 'I know I don't talk so good, but my eyes see real good and I'm telling you one thing, Jennifer's hips weren't wide enough to pass a peanut let alone a baby. And me and God knows who was telling lies.' Based on her evidence, which in my opinion is beyond any doubt, one can only ask; What was the FBI's motivation? Were they merely interested in concealing the real mother's identity?

The Matron:

1) Lynsie Sanders, a Hospital Administrator with a rock solid and no-nonsense reputation. Once again, Miss Pontasova provides the basis for this assessment. Her staff loved her, but feared her at the same time. She ran her hospital like a military General.

2) M/s Sanders suffered a fatal heart attack about two days after the child went missing. There was no autopsy. Her medical records are no longer available.

3) The home and office of M/s Sanders were searched by FBI. Allegedly documents were confiscated and never returned. And others were 'allegedly' altered.