by James Walker
I drank about half the bottle at once, as I was desperately thirsty. In a moment I felt well enough to try the muffin, so I broke it in half and wolfed it down. I followed that with the second half of the bottle, and I was ready to go. A thought occurred to me.
“Why are we riding? Why don’t we just take the Helena over?”
He gave me that look that made me feel like a moron. “Then how, pray tell, will we retrieve your motorcycle?
I slapped my forehead. “That’s right! Holly Moly! Where is it?”
“At the station, I imagine. We’ll fetch it before we go to the docks. Besides, I am beginning to see a thread that we may wish to follow. Who knows Frohman, perhaps it will lead us through this mystery!”
I didn’t have a clue as what he was talking about as I was more concerned with staying on the back of his bike and not puking on the way.
Uncle Will and I were both experienced riders, so the trip down to the ferry landing was short and sweet. About halfway across the river on the ferry, I was feeling much better. That Coca-Cola was wonderment for hang-overs! As the name suggest, there is a small dose of cocaine with every bottle and probably why Uncle Will is so fond of it.
Again, the crowds were lined along the railing, peering outwards and pointing. They seemed a bit more animated this morning and I commented that to my Uncle.
He was disgusted. “Bah, Frohman! Most likely another sighting- or at least someone heard of one from their cousin who talked to a friend of whoever made the sighting! Blithering Sapheads!”
I let the subject drop and kept one eye on the water when Wiliam was looking elsewhere. I didn’t see anything but a small chop and the channel markers.
We were first off the ferry with me clutching the seat below my rear rather than putting my arms around my uncle. I managed to stay on though it was a challenge on the cobblestone leading up to the Police station. We pulled up and I hopped off the Chief, as Wiliam killed the engine. My bike was nowhere in sight, but I could still hear a motorcycle engine, when the Chief went quiet. I looked behind me and there was my motorcycle, with some man in a uniform tooling along towards us!
To think someone had the gall to take my new Harley for a spin without my permission infuriated me. Copper or not, I was going to call him on it!
He pulled up to us, with a big grin on his face. He shut the engine off and set the stand before he dismounted.
“Afternoon, Mr. Gillette.” All I got was a nod. He gestured towards the bike. Magnificent machine! Hope we can get something like it for patrolling someday!”
Afternoon, Jack” William replied. He saw the look on my face and quickly put in, “Of course, you already met Collin.” He turned to me. “Jack is one of the men who brought you home this morning.”
Embarrassment quickly drowned my rage and I stuck out my hand, “Thank you. I…I don’t remember what happened.
He laughed. “I can tell you that you tried to go drink for drink with Tom Alexander! Bad idea. No harm done, except to the Chief Inspector’s sleep. I got an earful for that!” Then he simply dismissed me and turned back to my Uncle. “The Sargent wanted me to let you know that there has been no luck with our inquires. No unaccounted-for babies or pregnancies anywhere in the county. Must have been outsiders.”
William didn’t look like he agreed, but he just replied, “Thank the Sargent, and the rest of the men for your efforts. Even so, I would ask that you all keep an ear to the ground.”
“Always do, sir.” he answered, then turned to go back in.
I felt like I should say more. “I’m sorry I was such a bother, Officer.”
He looked back over his shoulder. “You weren’t a bother, Lad. In fact, you were quite funny and had us laughing all the way to the castle!”
“What’d I say?” I asked, but he just started up the steps, chuckling to himself until he disappeared back inside.
When I looked to my Uncle in misgiving, he shrugged and said with a straight face, “You come from a long line of droll fellows, Frohman. Now! Start your engine and let us mount up! The Chief Inspector awaits!”
16
We traveled down Main Street a few blocks, and then cut down an alleyway that led to a road parallel to the river. Not a minute later, we were pulling into an open area that led to some docks. The area was swarming with men in uniforms. Most of the activity was around a damaged boat they had up on cradles lying on its port side. Uncle Will and I had barely dismounted and took off our gear, when Rowan came strolling up.
“Hullo William! Have I got something to show you! But first, I need to settle with young Mr. Frohman here.”
I managed not to heave a great sigh, as he hitched up his pants and stomped the few steps over to me. Trying to look stern, he pointed a finger in my face and snarled, “I don’t appreciate having my house woken in the middle of the night. If you can’t hold your liquor, STAY HOME! Next time it happens, you’ll wake up in the drunk tank and face a judge in the morning! Understand?”
He was really rubbing me the wrong way, but I caught a look at my uncle’s face out of the corner of my eye and just ate the crow. “Understood, Chief Inspector. I’m truly sorry I disturbed your family. I was in a sorry state for sure. It won’t happen again.”
He gave me the eye and a hard probably thinking I would wise off, but I just stood quietly, looking as contrite as I could.
After a moment he turned back to my uncle. “Well William, let’s see if we can make a believer out of you!” He waved us onward and we followed him over to where all the activity was. Stopping, he asked my uncle. “Would you care to examine the boat first or talk with the eye witness?”
William thought about that for a moment. “The boat, I think. Let us see if the evidence bears out his narrative.”
“Excellent choice!” Rowan replied with a grin. You’d think he was the wine steward or something. “Come right over here.”
Rowan led us over to the craft that was up on the cradle. At first glance, I opened my mouth to say something, but William held up a finger to forestall me. So, I dogged him silently as we made a slow circuit around the boat.
There was nothing special about the design of the boat. It was a plain utility craft with a shallow draft and three foot gunnels. Square on the stern and pointed at the bow, it was completely unadorned. The only features that separated it from a big rowboat was a covered box at the stern that probably house the diesel engine and a center console with a small wheel and a simply control panel. There wasn’t even a chair for the pilot. There appeared to be another storage unit in front of the pilot box. Just another twenty-one foot boat you might find on a river or coast line; something you might use for light fishing or clamming. The only thing that set this boat apart is that it looked like it had been in a bar fight!
After making a full circle, William first bent down to study the severe damage to the bow. Starting at the waterline, there were two long, deep gashes on each side of the hull that led to large holes where the planking had been pulled out. Even the keel was cracked in half, a foot-long piece jutting out like a figurehead only below the waterline!
“I guess we can rule out hitting a rock.” I observed. “That hull was stove out not in.”
“Obviously.” He took a closer look then straightened and headed towards the middle of the boat. Whatever was in front of the pilot box looked like a tornado hit it. The battered top and one side hung at an angle, a huge padlock still hanging on a hasp with twisted ends. It was still in a locked position. Another side was completely missing.
We continued our survey. The pilot box was relatively intact as was the cover to the engine. The rest of the real damage was on the stern.
The port stern gunnel was gouged, and even had a few wood chunks missing. Oddest part was that the prop shaft was bent. So much so, that the blade of the prop had dug into the wood of the stern. I bent low to examine the length of the hull, but no scrapes that would have indicated they drove over a rock. This was a screwy as it gets. I turned t
o my Uncle to express that, but he cut me off quick. “Please refrain from further remarks until we have all the data. It serves no purpose and, quite frankly, it is distracting.” He was in full character now.
He turned to the Chief Inspector. “Could we talk to your eyewitness if you please? Rowan led us over to an overturned skiff on which a man was perched, slumped over and clutching a wad of bandages to his crown and sopping wet. He was a big man, rotund but solid. You might have thought him a bruiser until you saw his bright eyes and kindly features behind a long flowing beard that nearly reached his stomach. He sat up and winced as we approached.
“Can I go and find a telephone, now, Chief? I need to find a way home.”
“Soon Francais”, Rowan replied, taking a seat next to him on the boat. “First I’d like you to tell your story to these gentlemen.”
Francais didn’t even look our way before he turned to Rowan. “I’d rather not, Chief. I already told you everything and I really just want to go home.”
“I know Frank, but I’d appreciate it if you’d tell Mr. Gillette exactly what you told me.”
The man’s head slowly turned and he stared up at my Uncle. “Gillette? William Gillette?” His eyes widened and a grin split his round face. “I’m a fan of yours! Went to see you in Norwich a few years back.” He stuck out his hand, “I’m Francais Larabino. Find something to sit on and I’ll tell you a story stranger than anything you put on a stage!”
There was an old wire spool near us, so I dragged it out and rolled it up in front of the man. I was about to brush it off for William, but he plopped right down. Steepling his fingers, he closed his eyes and after a brief moment, made a twirling gesture with one hand; clearly indicating that Larabino should get on with it.
Larabino clicked his teeth and grinned. “Ain’t this a thing? Can’t wait to tell the missus.” The big man cleared his throat and smoothed out his features.
“I work for Ewing Seafoods -- maybe you’ve had some of our products or heard of us? Been with them for thirty-two years, the last fifteen in payroll security. Good company to work for…”
William’s eyes popped open and Larabino’s blathering stopped in mid- sentence. He clapped his hands together like a teacher trying to settle her classroom. “The facts, Mr. Larabino! Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that occurred. Leave no detail out. Concisely and quickly, if you please!”
Frank was a little stunned, but when William closed his eyes again, he dutifully told his tale.
“We were making our usual Thursday run down to the plant in Essex. Mike Schultz and I and Mike was driving and I was riding shotgun. We left at ten in the morning, like we always do. The weather was nice, no wind with the water flat as a skinny girl’s bottom. Along with a good current we had a quick, easy trip until the train bridge was ten minutes behind us.
“We always stay in the channel, but on our last few trips we’ve made a little detour into a small inlet about a half mile up from here. Mike is getting ready to do his shad fishing when they run, so we run over to an old dock where Mike has his bait pots tied.
“Only this time, we’re about thirty feet or so from the dock when all of a sudden all hell breaks loose. The boat came to a sudden stop. Mike is slammed into the pilot box and I’m knocked right off the motor covers onto my rear end! The engine is still running so the stern swings around quickly, cuz, whatever had a hold of the bow was keeping it fixed in place!
“Before I could even get to my feet, Mike had killed the throttle, but the bow kept bobbing up and down with the water frothing and a’churning all around it! We heard a crack in the wood that I could feel through the soles of my boots, and I finally stood and could see water coming up through the floor planking. I started forward to see what I could to do to plug it. Whatever hit us on the bow, now moved to the stern.
“Again, we could feel banging through the deck. We were taking on water, so Mike tries to get us moving towards the dock but we didn’t move. Something was binding up the drive shaft.
“Then the stern starts to bob up and down and the boat’s rocking for all git out! I was trying to hold on to the pilot box to steady myself, but Mike, God rest his soul, must have seen something in the water. He pulled his revolver and emptied it into the water, but that didn’t stop it, nor slow it down, as far as I could tell. Then the last thing I would have suspected, the crazy fool pulled out a knife and leapt over the side!
“I couldn’t believe my eyes and I tried to pull myself to the rear to see what was happening, but I was on the starboard side and when Mike’s weight left the port side.–Our boat flipped and I went right into the water! When I came up for air, the boat was capsized. I was going to make my way to it, but there was some kind of commotion… a shape in the shallows and the water was frothing all around…and turning pinkish. My survival instincts took over and I headed for the dock instead.”
“Now, I’m not much of a swimmer and had to dog paddle, its the best I can do. Finally I managed to make it to the dock before I went under or something got me! I held on to the piling for a moment to catch my breath, and then made my way to the bank. From there, I ran out onto the dock to see what happened to Mike. The boat was just drifting along, upside down.” Frank hesitated and went on in a sad voice with his eyes cast down, “Then I saw Mike’s body surface, face down and the water pink all around him.” Tears began to leak from his eyes.
With a glazed look in his eyes, he mumbled, “I…there was no way I could bring myself to go back in that water…something was still out there.” He shook his head and went on. “That’s all I know, Sir. I walked out to the road, and a couple in a buggy was kind enough to bring me to the police station.”
William turned a flinty gaze at Rowan. “You did not tell me there was a fatality.”
Rowan shrugged, “I thought you would rather hear it first-hand. Besides, you don’t believe in the monster story; or do you now?”
Before William could answer, two men walked up to our little group. One was a uniformed officer and the other was a short solid-looking man, about my age, who sported a short beard and long hair, tied back behind his head. He was dressed like an average working man in Levi pants, boots, and a homespun shirt and was carrying a shotgun.
Rowan leapt to his feet. “Well? Did you find it? Did you see anything?”
The man ignored the chief and addressed my uncle. “Hello, Mr. Gillette!”
“Afternoon, Gordon,” William replied. He gestured at me, “This is Collin Frohman. Collin, this is Gordon Steele- our harbormaster as of last year.”
We nodded to each other, however Rowan couldn’t be ignored any longer. Gordon turned to him. “Nothing, Chief Inspector. Used a ten-foot rake and went over the area a few times, but all we got was some rocks and this shotgun. I assume it’s yours, Sir.” He stepped over to Frank and handed it to him.
Rowan shook his head. “Go back, widen the area. It has got to be there!”
Francais groaned and dropped his face into his hands again. “That it. I’ll get the boot for sure! The company will never believe that a fish ate their money! I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up in jail!” He started to cry again, so I looked to my uncle, who was rising to his feet.
“What, exactly, are you searching for, Chief?” he asked Rowan in a cold voice.
“A locked box. Iron. It was locked in the cabinet in front of the pilot’s box. Must have fallen out when the boat capsized.”
“And what was in the box?”
“The weekly payroll for the factory in Essex.”
William stared at Rowan with his teeth clenched, then turned to address Francais. “I am sorry for your troubles Mr. Larabino. I’m sure the Inspector will shine the best light he can on your actions. Please give my regards to your wife. Good day!” With that said, he started walking towards the motorcycles. I stood confused for a moment, and then followed after him, with Rowan hot on my heels.
William was already putting on his gear when we caught up to him. Rowan
strode right up to William’s side and started right in. “William, you are as stubborn as a blind mule! After what you just saw and heard—how can you still be skeptical? Does something need to bite you on the backside before you believe in it?”
“Spare me your insane delusions!”
“What put the bee in your bonnet?” Rowan demanded to know. “Are you mad because you were wrong about the Monster? Don’t you want to find this thing-before it strikes again?”
“BAH!” William snarled as he kicked over his engine. “Find the payroll and you will find your ‘River Monster!”
Then he just sped away. A minute later, I was after him, leaving Rowan to glare at our backs.
17
I finally caught up to him when he turned onto Main Street and had to slow down for a freight wagon plodding along. He waved to me and then I followed him over to the Inn.
“I am sorry to pull you away so quickly Collin, but I could not endure another agonizing moment of that ‘River Monster’ foolishness!” He opened his saddle bag and removed a bottle of Coca-Cola. “Shall we go inside? Perhaps you could stomach some solid food by now.”
Connecticut River boating accidents, River Monsters, and Mike’s drowning had made me forget I was hungover. However, I was looking at his bottle of soda pop and wondering why he brought it to a bar.
“They do not carry Coca-Cola yet. It helps me think.” he explained, as if he was reading my mind. He hesitated and offered as sip half-heartedly. “I only brought two, Frohman…but if you would like the other…”
“No, that’s alright, Uncle Will. I’ll have a little hair of the dog.”
“As you wish.” Obviously relieved, he grinned and made a half bow as he gestured towards the door. “After you, my good man.”
A bit perplexed by his attitude towards the soda pop, I went in, crossed the foyer, and stepped into the empty bar. The only soul in there was the barkeep who was polishing bottles. Uncle Will went straight to the farthest table, and then instructed me. “With whatever you are having, Frohman, please include a glass and some ice for me.” I nodded and headed over to the bar with vague memories of last night’s debacle. I looked up and stopped short. The man putting ice into a tall glass in front of me was one of Catty’s brothers!