by Ron Finch
“I’m worried about meeting her,” I admitted when he was finished. “But I’m okay with your plan.”
Sunday, July 1
IT WAS A GREAT DAY to celebrate Canada’s birthday, a beautiful morning with only the odd fluffy cloud in the sky, and our families were looking forward to this afternoon’s picnic. Most of the preparations had been completed yesterday; some things had been loaded in the car last night. The perishables would be left in the icebox until they were ready to leave home, then they would be put in hampers packed with ice.
But everyone had church to attend first.
My family and Georgie’s family both attended the Baptist Church in Chaseford. It had a big and active congregation. All the members, whenever possible, attended Sunday school and church in the morning. There was also an evening service that wasn’t quite as well attended. Jay’s family was Presbyterian; Sylvia’s family attended the local Lutheran Church. Beforehand, it had been agreed that everyone would meet at Sylvia’s family’s home by 1:30 in the afternoon.
Sylvia Grayson’s family lived in a two-story home on a large half-acre lot near the edge of town and there was plenty of room for parking. Sylvia’s mother, Clara, was a gregarious lady. She was always happiest when she was involved in preparations for some event and this picnic was an occasion she had looked forward to. She had been very pleased when they had received permission to go to the cabin. She wasn’t an overly bossy person, but she loved running a picnic, and the other families had wisely allowed her to be the organizer. It was something she was good at. Clara was a kind person, so nobody’s nose was out of joint about it.
It was 1:45 and all four cars were now at the Grayson home, loaded up and ready to go. There were a total of 19 people heading out to the picnic. Everyone had kept their word to the chief of police, and they had not discussed the picnic with anyone else, but as the four cars headed towards Goshawk they made a conspicuous caravan. My dad, Arthur, was driving the lead car.
“I think this procession is going to attract too much attention,” I said.
“I’m concerned about it too,” said my dad, “so I’m going to follow Highway 8 until we’re two concessions west of the Goshawk Road. We’ll turn right there and go down that gravel road. That will take us past the corner where Herbert and Emeline’s farm is. At the second corner past their farm, we turn left. That’s the road on the far side of the bush. It’s much easier to get to the cabin from there. The others know the plan.”
After hearing this plan, I was very impressed. I never really stopped to think about dad much, but I decided that, for 40, he was still pretty smart.
The four cars pulled up and stopped along the side of the road close to the Stay Out sign that had been posted by Cst. Smith a few weeks ago. My dad explained that the chief had told him over the phone that the sign marked the start of the trail to the cabin.
Everyone got out and stretched. The smaller kids were glad to have a chance to jump around.
“It’s about a 20-minute walk,” said my dad. “We’re lucky it’s such a beautiful day. We’ll enjoy carrying everything to the picnic site. It’ll be even more fun carrying it all back.”
Everyone chuckled.
“We’re lucky to have teenagers with us,” said Jay’s dad, Brad. “They’re so strong and energetic.”
The response was a chorus of groans from the teens, but they all loaded up and started to walk. The start of the trail was easy to find.
“I heard the cabin was a speakeasy,” said Georgie. “Did all the customers walk back to the cabin?”
“Georgie, how do you know about speakeasies?” said her mother.
“I read it in the newspaper,” said Georgie, smiling back.
“I heard that a lot of the customers didn’t have to walk back to the cabin,” said Georgie’s dad. “Louise Carter had a hansom cab available for a fee. Someone told me she made more money from the cab than she did from the speakeasy.”
“Oh, that was something you heard, was it?” said Georgie’s mom, winking at him.
The next twenty minutes were spent pleasantly walking in the woods, with lots of chatting. Jay and I were surprised at how easy this trip to the cabin had turned out to be compared to our prior treks.
“We didn’t have to mark a single tree along the way,” said Jay.
My younger brother, Ralph, quipped: “There weren’t any trees big enough to mark.”
When we arrived at the clearing in front of the cabin, Jay and I were surprised. The open space around it was much larger than we remembered.
“I’m sure glad I brought my ball glove and bat,” Ralph hollered. “There’s enough room for a ballgame here.”
Ralph immediately set about looking for things that could serve as bases and for the best location for home plate. Whenever Ralph appeared a ballgame was likely to break out. Some of the men picked up on his enthusiasm and helped him in his search. They knew the picnic lunch was at least an hour away. The women had already secured a couple of men to move the table out of the cabin.
Within 10 minutes, a ballgame was underway. There were nine of us playing scrub. There were three at bat and six in the field. Emmylou, at eight years old, was the youngest player. We had agreed ahead of time that no one could strike out. You were up until you hit a ball fair. The three youngest players got up to bat to start the game. Emmylou was the leadoff hitter, and she was decent. Her skills were likely due to her brother Ralph, who always had her tagging along with him to whatever ballgame he could find. On rare occasions she even got to play. These occasions only happened if all the work in the garden was done, though. Mom’s rule.
We had been playing for about 15 minutes when Jay hit a foul ball down the third baseline into a small thicket of young trees. Ralph tracked the ball down and tossed it back to the pitcher. Then he said: “Timeout! Timeout, for a minute, please! There’s an empty wine bottle here in the thicket!”
“Don’t touch it!” I hollered.
Everyone looked at me.
“It’s okay,” said Jay. “Ralph, you may have found some evidence.”
“I have an extra empty bag that I brought with me,” said Georgie’s dad. “Let’s put it in the bag.”
“I don’t think we should touch it,” said my dad. “The chief told me if we found anything out here at the cabin, we were to leave it where we found it and to let him know. I think we should just tie something colourful to the tree in the thicket close to the bottle.”
Everyone agreed. The interruption got us all thinking about what had happened here and it took away our enthusiasm for the ballgame. Only Ralph wanted to continue. So Sylvia’s dad agreed to hit him a few fly balls.
Since mealtime was at least 10 minutes away, I thought I’d try to sneak away for a few minutes. I hadn’t sensed anything from Louise, yet. I wasn’t sure whether she’d tried to contact me or not. There were a lot of people around and quite a bit a noise and excitement. Maybe she was waiting for things to calm down? I did manage to get into the edge of the bush without anyone noticing me, but I still couldn’t sense anything. I tried focusing on her, but I really didn’t know what she looked like. Of course, that didn’t matter. I didn’t know what Walter looked like, either. Then I realized that perhaps distance was a factor. I knew it was difficult for me to contact Walter when I wasn’t in the house. I suddenly realized that, most likely, I’d have to be inside the cabin. That was by far the most likely place I would find the essence of Louise. So I headed back towards the cabin.
When I stepped into the clearing, Jay hollered at me.
“Where have you been?” he said. “We’re getting ready to eat.”
“I was on a nature walk,” I said.
The meal was good and there was lots to eat. Someone had even brought a watermelon. That resulted in a seed spitting contest to the delight of some and to the disgust of others. Jay won the contest with a spit of 14 ½ feet. For reward, he got his ear tweaked by his mother. When asked if his reward had been sufficient, J
ay smiled and said: “One tweak is enough.”
We’d only carried enough water for drinking, so cleanup meant packing the dirty dishes away for transport home. We also carefully cleaned up any garbage we’d made. Part of our agreement with Chief Petrovic was to leave the site as we’d found it. I volunteered Jay and myself to take the table back into the cabin and make certain everything was the way it had been when we’d arrived. This would buy me a few minutes in the cabin. I wasn’t alone, but if I could get Jay to be quiet – not an easy task – then I would chance a contact with Louise. My request to Jay for silence was met with a strange expression. He complied, but he said: “Joel, we need to talk about this.”
“We will,” I told him, “but you have to trust me for a few minutes.”
Jay shrugged. I started searching for some sign of Louise.
As far as Jay could tell, all I was doing was walking around the cabin, then standing still in random places with a look of serious concentration on my face. It must have looked to Jay as though I were trying to solve some complicated math problem in my head. Jay started to say something, but I held up my hand to silence him. I did this for three or four minutes and I could tell Jay was getting exasperated. Then I heard my mom say: “Joel, we’re ready to go!”
I relaxed with a sigh and shouted back. “I’m on the way.”
“I want to know what’s going on,” said Jay. “I’m your best friend.”
“Can you come over to my house tonight?” I said. “We can talk then.”
“I’ll come over about 8 o’clock,” said Jay. “I can’t stay too late. I start working for the slave driver tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s a holiday,” I said.
“Not for me,” said Jay. “You know my dad runs a small business. Here’s how I got the job: without my being there, my dad conducted a job interview and hired me to work for his construction company all summer. I am a little bigger and a little stronger this year, so I’ll probably avoid some of the cuts and bruises I accumulated last summer.”
I smiled. I knew that, though Jay was a very clever boy, he enjoyed the physical labour, too.
“See you later,” I said.
I WAS UP IN MY ATTIC bedroom, trying to tidy things up a bit. It had been a beautiful day, so as a result, my room was a little on the warm side. I heard my brother Ralph holler from downstairs.
“Joel, Jay’s here to see you!”
“Send him up!” I shouted back.
About two minutes later, I could hear Jay coming up the attic stairs. Jay had visited me in the attic a few times and he loved my hideaway.
“I wish our house had a usable attic,” said Jay. “This is a great place to escape from the rest of your family.”
I nodded in agreement. “I love my space,” I said. “I just wish it was a little cooler in the summer and a little warmer in the winter.”
“Okay, pal,” said Jay, making himself comfortable. “Tell me what was going on in the cabin.”
“Did I ever show you where I got hit by lightning?” I said.
“Don’t change the topic,” said Jay. “I want to know what was going on.”
“I’m not changing the topic,” I said. “I’m going to show you where I got hit by lightning.”
Jay shrugged. “Show me, then,” he said.
“What I talk about from now on is strictly between you and me,” I said. “Some of this I haven’t even told my parents. But because you’re my best friend, I’m going to trust you not to say anything to anybody. You have to promise that on your honour, Jay, or I’m not saying any more.”
“I promise,” said Jay. “So help me God.”
We shook hands.
I rolled my pant leg up to the knee and showed Jay the scar from the burn on my right leg.
“That’s a nasty scar,” said Jay. “Is it really from lightning?”
“It sure is,” I said. “Do you remember that bad storm we had on June 1st?”
“I sure do,” said Jay. “It was pretty unfortunate for a lot of people. There was a lot of damage. My dad’s construction company got a lot of work as a result of that storm. All the repairs haven’t even been completed yet. I’m going to be working on some of those repairs this summer.”
“I was home alone, here in the attic, during the storm,” I said. “Lightning took out the big tree in our yard.”
“I remember that,” said Jay. “The first time I came here after the storm your place looked different because the tree wasn’t there.”
“Let me show you how lucky I was,” I said, sitting on the edge of my bed. “My dad thinks a branch of that lightning hit me somehow. It went straight through my leg and then entered the steel runner on the side of my cot.” I pointed. “It ran down that piece of steel, and then jumped to some other metal nearby. We don’t know what.”
I could tell by the look Jay gave me that he believed me. I was the only person he knew who had been hit by lightning.
“Remember your promise,” I said, “because I have more to tell.”
I thought for a moment. I wasn’t sure how much to say and I needed to be careful. I had to have an explanation that would satisfy Jay’s curiosity about what I’d been doing in the cabin, but at the same time I didn’t want to get into a situation where Jay might think his friend had lost a couple of his marbles.
“I felt unwell for a couple of days,” I said finally. “It was mainly pain from the burn on my leg, but my head hurt a little bit, too. I seemed to be a little more sensitive to things. I wasn’t any more sensitive to your insults, fortunately, but I seemed to be able to see and hear a little better than I could before I got struck by lightning. So when I was in the cabin, I was concentrating and looking around to see if there was anything else to find that maybe someone else missed.”
“What are you talking about?” said Jay.
“I think what got me so interested in looking around inside the cabin was that we’d already found that wine bottle outside. Maybe I’m just a Hardy Boy, Jay, but the more clues we find, the more likely justice is going to be done for Louise Carter.”
Jay nodded. He seemed okay with the explanation. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him about Walter and essences and some of the other things that Walter and I had talked about. I’d noticed the skeptical look that Jay had given me when I talked about my improved vision, so I knew I’d have to be careful.
We chatted for a little while after that about school, exams, and summer jobs, then Jay said: “You have my word.” Then with a smile he added: “I have to get home now and talk to the slave driver.”
“Better be good to him,” I said. “Remember: he has the car keys.”
LATER THAT EVENING, after everyone else in the family had gone to bed, I was sitting on my cot in the attic. I noticed that it was 11 o’clock already. It had been a good day, and I felt a lot better about the cabin now than I had before going there. I hoped I wouldn’t have any more bad dreams about the body. I was still a little puzzled, though. I had expected some kind of contact or signal from Louise Carter. I didn’t know what the signal would be, though. Walter and I communicated by focused thinking. Perhaps Walter would be the only one I could communicate with. I would check this out with Walter later.
I wanted to finish an Agatha Christie book I was reading. It was a very interesting mystery. I was beginning to wonder if I wasn’t involved in a very interesting mystery myself. I had to get the book back to the library by the end of this week, so I settled in to read. Before I could finish two pages Walter contacted me.
Walter’s first question was: “Did you learn anything from Louise today?”
“I’m not even sure that I was able to sense her presence,” I said. “There was a brief moment when I was in the cabin that I thought I felt something, but it wasn’t strong enough for me to be certain. Walter, have you had any communication from her about today?”
“I just received a message from her,” said Walter. “She was unable to make contact with you. She said she al
most made a connection when you were in the cabin with that other boy. And she was extremely disturbed when she found out that you had found a wine bottle. She thinks that this upset her so much that it interfered with her ability to contact you.”
“Why would finding the bottle upset her so much?” I asked.
“Louise thinks that poison had been added to the wine in that bottle. Louise had expensive taste in wine, and she always purchased wine with the Krug label. When she arrived at the cabin that Saturday evening in May, she found a slightly chilled bottle with the label Krug Collection 1928. There was no card with the bottle, but she assumed it was a thank you gift from one of her Chaseford friends. Most likely Alice. She poured a glass of wine and realized too late that she’d poisoned herself. Louise still wants to try and contact you. I told her I would try to convince you to go back to the cabin sometime on your own. Louise was really pleased that the wine bottle was found. Maybe it will help in the investigation.”
Monday, July 2 to Thursday, July 5
MONDAY MORNING, SHORTLY after 10 o’clock, the chief of police was in his office doing paperwork. Det. O’Neill knocked on the door and walked in.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” said Chief Petrovic. “Aren’t you on holidays for a week?”
“My wife suggested a nice drive in the country,” said the detective. “She wanted to see Chaseford. I think she’s just checking my story about being on loan to the Chaseford police.” He chuckled. “So we loaded our two boys in the car and made the journey. I dropped them off at Mabel’s diner for a midmorning snack. The boys are always hungry. I told them I’d be back in about half an hour for a piece of apple pie. Is there anything new on the case?”