Missing and presumed ???

The case of Mr. John Darwin of Hartlepool, England is one of those ‘little’ stories that tends to capture the imagination of a world that is feeling ‘Iraqed’ ‘Afghanistaned’ and ‘Darfured’ to death.

It seems that Mr. Darwin, and his wife, Anne hatched out a little scheme a half decade ago that would call for him to take a kayaking trip, to ‘go missing’, and then, after the appropriate wait, he would be declared dead and then the insurance money would pour into the coffers of poor, bereaved Mrs. Darwin. And, the pounds did indeed pour in.

But then, a few weeks ago, the story assumed a twist. John Darwin suddenly reappeared and claimed he’d been suffering from amnesia but that he was very much alive. And, since they already had the insurance money, and the missus had quite honestly believe he was gone, then too bad for the insurance companies.

Alas, somebody began to smell two king-sized rats, and the Darwins (who had managed to secure themselves a little tropical hideaway in Panama, were busted. Or, are at least have been arrested.

In fact, for the past three years, John Darwin had actually been living right next door to the memsahib, and probably indulging in all the activities that come with connubiality, unbeknownst to anybody.

Well, I guess I am of two minds about this. In the first place, you somehow have to admire a person who scams an insurance company, considering how much they take us for every year, and how loath they are to ever pay out. It’s kind of like a tale of a gang busting into a bank vault. Nobody got hurt, so aren’t you inclined to think, ‘go for it. Hope you get away with it.’

The ‘missing persons’ thing must be a tough one on insurance companies, because how do you ever know for sure?

We had a case closer to home a few years ago. Now, I am not about to cast aspersions in the matter, but watercooler chat invariably led some of us (like me, for instance) to think there might have been an alternate scenario.

I’ll assume my best Rod Serling voice and say, “Witness the case of one Myron Krebs.” Myron was married to ‘Starchild’ Krebs and the two of them were expatriate Americans and late-blooming hippies living on one of our offshore islands. Myron drove a battered pick-up and didn’t seem to do much other than those ubiquitous ‘odd jobs.’ Starchild, a woman passionate in her convictions, held a black belt in veganism, and devoted her energies to propounding her views on the evils of sugar, milk, chocolate, and assuredly anything of animal origin. That’s OK. She was entitled to her views. I’m only glad I was never invited to dinner. I tried one of her recipes once; it was for a rhubarb tart that contained no sugar and was to be sweetened by ‘natural’ apple juice. It was just awful.

Anyway, one weekend Starchild was away, at a vegan conference, no doubt. Myron was at a loose end, so he went to a social gathering off the island. He enjoyed himself, according to witnesses, and partook of beer and other ‘herbal’ offerings during the course of the evening. He left relatively early so he could catch the last ferry home. He never made it home.

The next day his pickup was found at the ferry terminal. He had obviously missed the last boat. Since it was summer, some assumed he had tried to swim across to the island – a foolish move, since there are strong currents. His clothes were neatly folded on the seat of the truck. His wallet and ID were also there.

‘Missing and assumed drowned’ was the official statement. Starchild waited the appropriate time, and eventually collected on the insurance. There is no doubt in my mind that she, unlike Mrs. Darwin, had no role in what happened, and it was a sad ending to the tale of her marriage.

But, back to the gossip. We thought of this possible scenario: Mr. Krebs, as an American citizen, would have had no trouble returning to the US. He then could have gotten lost somewhere in America, assumed a new identity (which was why he left his ID back in Canada), and now is merrily scarfing Big Macs, fries and chocolate shakes like there’s no tomorrow. He will never have to consume vegan foodstuffs again. He has a nice little suburban bungalow, a conventional little wife and chicken-fried steak and barbecue are mainstays at their place. They belong to the chamber of commerce, and voted for Bush in both elections.

As I say, that probably didn’t happen but I like to think that it did.