by James Walker
I caught him staring at the bulge in my jacket, so I knew he was aware I was armed. I had the feeling he would have bolted for the door if I had so much as grimaced. I didn’t want any more trouble with Catty’s family. I put my best smile on and stuck out my hand, “I don’t think we were really properly introduced last night. “I’m Collin Frohman and you’re …Cody, Right?”
Wide eyed he nodded, then blurted out, “There’s no hard feelings about last night, are there?”
“No, of course not. I owe you the apology. I would have never pulled on you guys if I knew what was happening. Please try to see it from my viewpoint- I’m a stranger in town, just looking for a night cap, and some guy insults my family then tries to carve out my eyeball with a broken bottle! When you guys jumped up, I figured I had to level the playing field.”
He thought it over for a second and then shook my hand. “I know. Tom said the same thing this morning. Sorry about Marquis. He naturally has a hot head and then add the liquor on and he is like a stick of dynamite .
“He always was the wild one, and lately I swear, he’s gotten worse.”
“Was he alright after?”
He shrugged. “He was coming around. He could move his arm and we put him in his bunk to sleep it off.”
“And what of the men he was with?” William asked from the table
Cody looked confused. “The barge rats? I never saw them.” He shrugged. “I guess they went back to their nest.”
“That is interesting, Frohman.” William pronounced from the far table, and then fell silent.
I had no idea what he was talking about and the last thing I wanted to do was rehash what I remembered of last night. Why he would chime in on such a trivial point was beyond me. We had just heard a bizarre tale of murder, monsters, and robbery, which he just sped away from!
To change the subject, I turned to Catty’s youngest brother and asked, “You work here?”
He shrugged again. “Just on Fast Eddie’s day off, or days when he can’t answer the rooster! I crew full time on the ferry in the busy season, but I’m just a weekend deck hand for now until folk get to moving about more.”
“Well,” I observed. “I’m not surprised Fast Eddie laid low today. We were at it until the wee hours of the morning.”
He laughed. “I guess so! Tom said you kept up drinkin’ pretty well, for a dandy!” His eyes flew wide and he clamped his lips shut when he realized what he just said.
I wasn’t insulted, my boots cost more than these men made in a month. “Oh, he did, did he? Tell him this ‘dandy’ is up and moving while he’s still under the covers. Your brother has a wooden leg!”
He laughed nervously. “Both of them! So, what can I get for you?”
“A glass with ice for my uncle.” I gestured to the one in front of me. Cody’ nodded and called out over my shoulder. “Afternoon, Mr. Gillette.”
“Good afternoon, Cody’. How are your parents these days?”
“Fine, sir. I’ll tell them you were askin’?”
“Excellent! Now, could I get that ice before it’s a half a glass of water?”
Cody let the rebuke roll over him and he winked at me. “He must be detecting.”
I shook my head in mock despair. “You have no idea. I’ll have a beer.” I took a five- dollar piece out of my pocket and tossed it on the bar. “We’ll run a tab.”
He gave me a look. “That’s a hundred beers!”
“I was hoping to have something to eat, if it’s not too late for lunch.”
“Sure. Jimmy made pork chops today.”
Pork chops weren’t my favorite. I was hoping for some beef, but it was apparent I would have to settle, and I just nodded in acceptance. I wasn’t totally sure I could keep anything down anyways.
I turned and called over to William. “Would you like something to eat?”
He was staring at his bottle Coca-Cola and didn’t look up. “No, just the ice please!”
I winked to Cody, who answered back. “On its way, Mr. Gillette!” He poured me a quick beer and I carried it over to the table.
William produced a slim piece of metal from his pocket and quickly uncapped the bottle and slowly poured the dark amber liquid over the ice. When the foam settled, he took a long drink and smiled. “Nectar of the Gods.”
I lifted my glass and pulled half the beer of it out then clicked my tongue, “Depends on which Gods you worship.”
He took another long pull from his glass and announced, “Now, no more distractions, Frohman! I need to think.” He sat back, put his fingertips together in front of his face and closed his eyes.
I knew I was going to have to amuse myself for a while, so I got another beer and wandered around the bar for a bit admiring the memorabilia. Once a place has been around for a while, like the Inn, it usually collects some pretty nifty history. My visual jaunt was interrupted when Cody brought lunch to the table. With one look at William’s closed eyes, he rolled his and walked away.
I went back to my seat and was pleasantly surprised to find some first-class looking fare before me. The chops were thick and nicely brown with crispy fat. There was a tan sauce with tiny strings of onion across the top and a mound of fluffy mashed potatoes with a pat of butter melting on top. The aroma alone quashed what was left of my hang-over and I was suddenly famished. I took my first bite and was amazed. It was as good as anything I had ever eaten. The meat was tender and juicy, and the potatoes were like thickened air. I attacked with gusto and didn’t slow until I was scraping the plate with my fork for the last scraps of potatoes.
Uncle Will finally came out of his trance. “My word, Frohman! You are eating like a condemned man! You are feeling better, I trust?”
“Much better.” I replied as I laid down my tableware. I had to resist the urge to pick up the bones and gnaw on them. “I’m ready to find Tom for a rematch.”
William rolled his eyes. “I would avoid imbibing with Tom for a while, Frohman. The Chief Inspector obviously needs his sleep.”
“Seriously, Uncle Will, what riled you up so much at the docks?”
He took a cigarette out of his case and offered me one. We lit up and he turned in his chair to face me. “Rowan was wasting my time with fish tales.”
“Gee...you have to admit that something strange happened this morning…and a man is dead!”
He heaved a sigh and said gravely, “The murder was a tragedy, Frohman but the simple facts are these -- the boat was attacked, and the money is missing. Those are not the actions of any creature but those that walk on two feet! Mysterious as the method may be-it is no more than piracy.”
“Piracy? There weren’t any other boats involved! In fact, if I remember correctly, that Larabino fellow didn’t see anyone at all!”
“We don’t have enough data to make a cohesive theory.” He paused, and then snorted. “And I wouldn’t put too much stock in Mr. Larabino’s testimony, Frohman. He did not strike me as the overly vigilant type. A man like Frank sees his worst fears in times of duress.
“No, it was the pilot, Michael Shultz who could have cleared the matter up. Unfortunately, he took what he saw to the grave.”
“Jeepers, Uncle Will, that’s cold fish.”
He rolled his eyes at me again. “Emotion has no place in an investigation, Frohman. I seek solutions, not absolution!”
“Then you’re going to look into it?” I asked. The way we left, I assumed he had no interest.
He gave me a long look and replied, “Perhaps. But first, there is the matter of the child. That is my priority for now. Though,” he tapped his lower lip with a long forefinger, “I have a vague notion that one may lead into the other.”
If there was a connection between an abandoned child and a river heist that took place months apart, it eluded me. Still, my Uncle had amazed me more than once these past few days, so I kept my opinion to myself.
William slapped the table lightly. “Now, if you are sated, I would like to attend to a few matters befor
e we return home.”
I drained my beer. “Ready when you are.”
“Excellent! Our next stop is my church, up a few streets.”
“Is there a service today?” I asked. I knew nothing of the Episcopal practices.
He laughed. “No, of course not, Frohman. I need to make arrangements for the child’s burial. She has been with Doctor Blum long enough.”
Cody was nowhere to be seen, but I had given him more than enough for the lunch fare and a generous tip already, so we left and mounted up again.
It was a quick ride with a few turns, and we were soon pulling up in front of a typical New England church. White clapboard, stained glass, and a steeple. William indicated I should remain with the bikes as a tall gaunt man, in a dark frock coat, came out of the front doors and down the steps to greet him..
They talked for a few minutes and their discussion grew heated. The Minister or whatever they called their Shaman in these parts had an apologetic cast to his face as he shook his head. I could see my uncle stiffen with tension and replied in a stern voice, that I just couldn’t hear. There was a little more back and forth, then they came to some sort of agreement and shook hands. The man went inside, and William walked back down, not looking altogether happy.
“What was that about, Uncle Will? You looked fit to be tied for a moment.”
“I was making arrangements for the child’s burial. At first, the good Reverend refused to officiate as the child was never baptized.
That was what I was taught by the Catholics but it still peeved me. “As if it were the child’s fault? Is that it?”
“Precisely, Frohman. I pointed out that when an innocent babe was murdered, I doubted very much that our lord looked the other way.”
“Good for you. That convince him?”
William hesitated, and then half smirked, “The good reverend capitulated, swayed by my logic of course… and a sizable donation.
“In any case he has agreed to arrange the site and perform the ceremony however it will not be on consecrated ground. We agreed on the old Common Cemetery. Our babe will rest in nice spot on the river, just down from the train trestle. It will be held the day after tomorrow, Friday, at nine o’clock.”
“In the morning? That’s a bit early for you,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“Best be done quickly,” he replied as he donned his riding cap. “It is three months overdue.”
I had no retort for that as we started our bikes and headed off. William led me down some back streets and we met up with the same road we had taken out of town yesterday. We were tooling along the winding road when William suddenly slowed and pointed to the river with his right arm.
I slowed down to a crawl and looked over the vista and saw nothing of interest. There was no traffic on the river, or breaks in the calm flowing river, or anything else out of place. I looked back to William about to ask him what he was pointing at, but he poked his arm out again more vigorously. I slowed the Harley and looked again, as William rounded a bend before us where I lost sight of him.
I jumped when I heard the sound of metal scraping and a sharp yelp of pain. Kicking back into gear, I gunned the throttle and sped forward. I rounded the corner to see my Uncle’s Indian Chief lying on its side, with my Uncle’s right leg pinned beneath it! I was relieved to see that he was already sitting up and was trying to move the machine off his limb, but his face wore a rictus of pain.
I stopped as fast as I could and leaped off to grab his Chief by the handle bars and pull it upright. I set the kick stand then helped my Uncle. Uncle Will was sitting up and clutching his right leg below the knee. I gave him a quick look over, and could see no obvious damage, except for the dirt that stained his right side. His pants leg wasn’t torn and when I gently pulled it back, there were no scrapes or bruises on the outside of his calf. I began to fear he may have broken some bone, but I was reluctant to prod it, as I know nothing about first aid.
“Please try to move your foot,” I commanded.
He waggled his foot up and down and that was a relief. My Uncle was sitting up, alert, without a head injury, and moving his foot. I was impressed he could lay his bike down so smoothly.
“What the hell happened?” I demanded.
“As I pulled off the road, my back tire slipped in a gravel rut as I was pointing” His lips pulled back in a grimace of pain.
“You were lucky you didn’t get scraped to the bone,” I admonished him. “What the hell were you pointing at anyways?”
He was annoyed. “Could you please dispense with the questions and help me to my feet?”
When we rose up and I stepped in front of him, I could see what was giving him so much pain. There was an ugly red strip burned into the inside of his calf about three inches above his sock. The red hot exhaust pipe had gotten him good! I kept his arm around my shoulder and we took a few tentative steps. I walked, and he limped badly.
He stopped and smiled at me and looked over to a house. “Perhaps we should go prevail upon that household for some ice before we continue our ride home.”
I hadn’t noticed the small, one-story dwelling that sat down a slight hill on the river bank. I didn’t see the point.
“How about we get you on the back of my bike and take you to the doctors? We can come back for yours later.”
He gave me a mocking look of horror. “Surely you jest! I wouldn’t be caught dead on a Harley-Davidson!”
“This isn’t a joke, Uncle Will. You need to get your leg looked at.”
He patted my shoulder. “Excuse me, Collin. I do not mean to make light of your concern. I think we can find what we need at that house.”
That seemed a little crazy to me and he seemed alert and confident so I just shrugged and started lugging him .down the pathway.
18
We followed the rutted path that served for a driveway -- though it looked as if it hadn’t seen any traffic in a long while – which passed through a thicket of trees and bittersweet that made the property nearly impossible to see from the roadway. We hesitated at the very top of the path to see what the property revealed.
The path led down to a mostly level plot, about an acre that sat right against the river. There was a modest one- story house with lattice a few feet high, surrounding the base. I assumed the house was built on pilings to minimize the damage done from rising waters that must happen from time to time. It sat at a fortyfive degree angle to the river, with a full-length front porch. Weathered shingles, with faded white trim, gave it a slight look of neglect, yet it was in pretty good shape. Not twenty yards from the house was a high, sturdy pier that extended some fifteen yards into the river. It was much bigger than most private docks I had seen and could berth a good-sized boat.
Besides an old outhouse behind the home, there was a large shed set on the riverbank nearby and, higher up on the left was a small barn. As we started to hobble forward again and got closer, I could see the shed was really a boat house that could be accessed from either the river or land.
A few steps out the back door there was a large patch of bare earth with a low fence around it. Soon it would be filled with growing vegetables and, perhaps, a flower or two. Up from that, at the edge of the lawn, was a stone lined garbage pit, which was half full of table scraps, wrappings, unrecognizable bits of trash, and a few cracked or broken Coca-Cola bottles. All heaped upon a fair amount of brush and leaves, to help it burn. The smell made me grateful that our garbage was hauled away to be burned. In many ways it reminded me of some property in and around where my mother’s family was from on the South Fork of Long Island. Cozy, yet functional for a family that made its living on the water.
As I looked around, I noticed additional small signs of neglect. A few shingles hung loose on the roof and a broken shutter hung askew on one of the side windows. Not that the place looked trashy, but just a bit lacking in upkeep. Uncle Will had said it was a harsh winter. Maybe they hadn’t gotten around to the repairs yet.
&nbs
p; A curtain flashed from inside the far left window. From the stove pipes that came through the roof above it, I surmised it was the kitchen area. I expected someone to come out of the house after seeing a man being carried towards the house.
I was wrong. We had to walk around to the front of the house and stumble our way up the few stairs to reach the porch and front door. I waited a moment, but still there was no acknowledgement of our presence. The hair on the back of my neck started to rise as I said to my Uncle,
“I know somebody’s home! I saw the curtains move in the kitchen, so they know we are here. Are people around here so unfriendly? This place is giving me the willies!”
William, who looked like the cat who ate the canary, replied in a low voice, “Easy, young Frohman. Do not be alarmed. I believe the occupant of this house is simply being…cautious. Perhaps with good reason. Let us show a bit of courtesy. Knock on the door.”
I did a lot more than that! I ignored the brass knocker and pounded the wood panels with the side of my fist.
“Hello?”I bellowed. “We need some help here! There has been an accident! Hello in there!”
I was about to start thumping the door again when a voice off to the side brought me up short.
“STOP that caterwauling and leave off on my door! Just what is the problem here?”
Startled, I swung around, still supporting William, to find a visibly angry woman, with her hands on her hips, standing on the end of the porch. She must have come out another door and came up behind us. Before I could answer, she recognized my uncle. Her eyes narrowed and she stalked across the porch, not looking pleased at all. She looked down and saw the torn pants leg, then looked up and snapped.