Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach

about the trolley that used to bring people out here before the bridge was built. And there used to be an outdoor dance pavilion where the Big Bands played."
    "He was talking about Lumina. They even had a huge motion picture screen set up in the surf. But then the war came and it all had to be shut down."
    "I'm a bit of a history buff myself and I read that Wilmington was a boomtown during World War Two. They built destroyers here."
    "Excuse me," Melanie said, and moved in between us to light a citronella candle that sat on the railing. Darkness was pooling over the Atlantic now and she had lit about a dozen hurricane lamps that were strategically placed around the deck. In the next house, someone was playing show tunes on a piano. Lovely.
    "Need any help?" I asked Melanie.
    "Everything's under control. You guys go on talking. Dinner's almost ready."
    Melanie had on shorts and a matching shirt over a tank top. We all had on shorts. And mosquito repellant on our bare legs.
    "Yes, it was a boomtown," I responded to Devin's last question, glad to be on neutral ground. "The shipyard built battleships for the war effort. After the war, the shipyard became one of the state ports. If you're interested in that period, you ought to visit the Battleship North Carolina. It's anchored on the Cape Fear."
    "Being a historic preservationist you must know a lot about the history of this area. Ever hear about the POW camps that were here during the war?"
    "Sure, everyone who lives here knows about them. The first camp wasn't that far from here, Shipyard Boulevard and Carolina Beach Road. But it wasn't large enough to accommodate the prisoners so the government acquired the Old Marine Hospital at Ann and Eighth streets and moved the camp there. And there was a camp at Blumenthal Field. That's where the airport is now."
    "Hold that thought. I'll be right back," Devin said, and got up to refill his drink.
    When he returned, I continued, "My good friend Binkie Higgins is an authority on local history. He can tell you anything you want to know. For example, there was an internment camp at Camp Davis. Camp Davis was later absorbed by Camp Lejeune, the marine base."
    "A buddy of mine is a civilian contractor at Camp Lejeune. I'll be spending some time with him while I'm here," Devin said.
    "What does your friend do?"
    "Specialized training. He promised to show me around the base."
    "It's good you have a friend in the area," I said. "About the POWs, at first the town was told we were going to get Italian prisoners, but then they sent us Germans."
    "How did the people here feel about that?" Devin wanted to know.
    "Some were scared. Others relieved. They had heard that the Germans were disciplined and that there wouldn't be any trouble. And there wasn't. If you're really interested in learning more, I'll introduce you to Binkie . He's the expert."
    Devin polished off his second drink, or was it his third? "Sure, I'd like to meet him. My granddad used to talk about the war all the time. Seems like it was the biggest thing in that generation's life."
    "Tell me something," I asked idly. "Do you own a casino in Atlantic City?" No one ever said what Devin did for a living and I wondered if running a night club was the profession of choice in the Ballantine family.
    Devin sputtered. "Me? Own a club in Atlantic City? Donald Trump owns the clubs in Atlantic City. Well, I think he's filed for Chapter Eleven or some such nonsense. But I did work as a black jack dealer in one of the clubs to put myself through school."
    "Oh. Where did you go to school?"
    Melanie called, "Okay everybody, dinner's ready. We're eating out here, family style."
    While we'd been talking she had set the table and placed two big hurricane lamps on it. The table was large and round, large enough to accommodate the six of us and more. White plates were set on colorful placements with rough homespun linen napkins. I started to sit down next to Jon.
    "No, over here," Devin called. "Jon, you get to see her every day. I want to feast my eyes on this pretty lady tonight."
    He pulled a chair out for me and I had no choice but to sit in it. Then he settled in next to me and turned to give me a frank stare. What gives? I asked myself.
    Mickey circled the table, serving us each a salmon fillet from a large platter. It smelled so good my mouth began to water. We passed the lobster salad around and the bread basket.
    I sampled the lobster salad. "This is divine, Mel," I told my sister.
    She