“Yep. Right before I take music lessons on a new instrument, I do some bungee in my spandex. Last time I did it in Tennessee. I think I’m headed to Texas to spandex bungee this year. Maybe do some flyboarding, too. Why? You wanna go?”
“I don’t think so. If I’m going to die, I’d like it to be while I’m doing something glamorous or delicious like maybe fainting in the arms of that dreamy Manuel at the La Cohina Restaurant. Now that’s a way to go. Not at the end of some rope tied to my ankles or flying around the water on a board. Yuck.”
“How about Uncle? Does he interest you? Uncle’s single.” The thought was so absurd that even Gramma had to laugh out loud.
“Uncle!” Chatty Mae said. “Uncle? He must be 90-years-old, if he’s a day. Uncle? Are you kidding me.” Chatty Mae stood for emphasis.
“Ninety? You think Uncle’s ninety?” Gramma said. “I’d believe maybe eighty-ish, but not ninety. What does age matter anyway? We can’t all be middle-aged forever.”
“And he keeps throwing in Russian or Chinese phrases when he speaks. I’d mimic him for you, but it’s nauseating.” Chatty Mae made the motion of sticking her finger down her throat.
“But, you’ve gotta admit. He’s a snappy dresser,” Gramma said. “And, and this is a big one, he’s very interested in you. I’ve seen him watching you.”
“Well, let him watch away. Now, Manuel, that’s a different story. He looked so great when we were last there. Your dancing was superb, Gramma.”
“Why, thank you. I do turn a step quite well if I say so myself.” Gramma took a look at what Chatty Mae was sculpting. “What are you working on?”
Chatty Mae made a face as if her feelings were hurt. “What? Can’t you tell? It’s a flower pot with Rex on it. I think it looks just like him. Don’t you?”
Gramma pretended not to hear. Feigning deafness has its rewards.
Gettysburg
“I love Pennsylvania this time of year,” Gramma said. “The trees are beautiful and the landscape is lush.”
“Me, too. There’s a lot to see in this state. I really enjoy coming here,” Andy replied. “Gettysburg is one of those places everyone, especially children, should visit at some point in their lives.”
“I agree. We’re fortunate to have reservations at this bed and breakfast on the battlefield. Hey, maybe we’ll take one of those nighttime ghost tours while we’re here. That should be fun,” Gramma said.
“Yeah. Let’s do that. Too bad Lola couldn’t come with us this time.”
“This wasn’t the kind of trip to bring your sister on right now. She doesn’t have the training you have, Andy. This is your job. I’m hoping Lola joins our team in the future. The good news is it pays well. The bad news is there’s a lot of traveling and some danger involved. Although we keep ourselves very safe with our personal training and back-up agents.”
Gettysburg Thievery
“Gramma, I sure hope you’re able to find my stolen items,” Cabot said. He stood behind the counter of his shop, ‘Cabot’s Collectibles.’
“Happy to help out,” Gramma replied. “Now, start from the beginning and tell me what happened.”
“This building was a private home back in the 1800’s. During the Civil War, it was used as a hospital. Gruesome. There were so many amputated limbs that had to be removed, the surgeons just threw them out the windows and let them pile up. You’d think this would be a haven for ghosts, but I’ve never had a problem with them here. You do know there’re ghosts in other buildings in Gettysburg, right? You know that,” Cabot said. “There’re entire books and television shows about it.”
Andy looked at Gramma, not wanting to touch that with a ten-foot pole.
“I’ve never seen a ghost in Gettysburg, but that doesn’t mean they’re not here,” Gramma said, diplomatically. “Although I have seen some ghostly looking criminals. Anyway, so what happened?”
“I was in this very room working on accounts yesterday. I thought I heard a noise in the upstairs hallway. It sounded like moaning and sighing. As you can see, I’ve got the stairway to that area roped off. No one’s supposed to be up there except me and my employees, but I was the only one working that night.” Cabot fidgeted. “And since we know there’re ghosts in this town, I admit I was a little scared.
“I picked up my baseball bat from behind the counter here, turned on the upstairs lights and went up there to confront the culprit. I called out several times for them to come out. I went from room to room, telling whoever was up there to show themselves.” Cabot paused.
“I found nothing and no one. The items that were up there were undisturbed. So, I came back down. The doors were all locked. I’d already closed the drapes earlier. I’d heard no noise down here while I was up there. However, when I went back to my office, to my shock and surprise, two special items I’d placed on my desk were missing. One was a picture of President Lincoln at the Gettysburg Cemetery right before he gave his famous Gettysburg Address. Lincoln had signed the photo. The other thing missing was one of President Lincoln’s handwritten notes regarding the Gettysburg Address. While there’s lots of reproductions of those, there are only a few known authentic ones. It’ll be hard for the crooks to sell, but some people just like owning something like that and will buy it just to have it for themselves. They hide the stolen items in their personal collections and enjoy looking at them.”
Cabot was perspiring and sat down. “What were taken are irreplaceable and part of my private collection. I took them out to clean them and put them in new frames and now they’re gone.” He sighed. “There was no one here. No one. I don’t know who made that noise upstairs to distract me, but it worked. My Lincoln items are gone. It had to be ghosts. I don’t know any other way someone could’ve gotten them out of this house without my hearing or seeing them.”
“I’m glad you contacted my boss in the Development,” Gramma said. “Did you report this to the police yet?”
“Not yet. I wanted to bring you in on this first,” Cabot added. “If anyone can find them, you can. Will you help me? I’m so worried. Not only that I’ll not get them back, but also because I’m concerned they might be damaged in the process. They’re delicate. That photo is on glass and set in an original framed case. Here are some pictures of both the items.” He handed them to Andy.
Gramma and Andy looked at the photos of the stolen collectibles.
“I’ll do my best, Cabot,” Gramma said. “Andy and I’ll get right on it. We’ll have a look around your shop first and see what we can find out. By the way, where’s the baseball bat you use as a weapon?”
“Right here.” Cabot pulled the item from behind his desk.
Gramma looked it over and smiled. “It’s got a Ted Williams autograph on it. Wow. Ted Williams. Arguably, the greatest natural hitter ever. Awesome!”
“If you find out who did this,” Cabot said, “I’ll give it to you.”
“While I’d love to own it, I couldn’t take your genuine Ted Williams autographed baseball bat. I’m honored just to hold it. Thanks for the offer, though. Now, we gotta get working.” She looked at the bat again and handed it to Cabot. She had a hard time letting go of it.
Gramma and Andy browsed the display cabinets holding priceless civil war artifacts and collectibles. Weapons, canteens, uniforms and other items were neatly displayed along with other priceless things.
“Oh, my goodness,” Gramma said. “Is that a complete, original, Henry repeater cartridge for sale? Is it? I need one for my collection.” She gazed fondly at the relic.
“Of course it is. Everything here’s original,” Cabot said, showing hurt feelings that anything he would have is a fake.
“I didn’t mean to imply it was a reproduction. It’s rare and I’m just so happy to see it. Can you do any better on the price?” Gramma asked.
“For you, I’ll take a 40% markdown.” Cabot took the item out of the cabinet.
Gramma pulled out a jeweler’s loupe, looked at the cartridge through it, and
did a thorough examination. She turned it about, upside down and every which way she could.
“Sold,” she said loudly. “Thank you, Cabot. I’ll take good care of it. It’ll look great framed with my Henry .44 caliber repeater rifle. Now, back to work.”
Gramma and Andy went upstairs, moving from room to room. Convinced they were alone on the second floor, they opened a door leading to the attic stairway. Both entered the area and walked around, poking into boxes and bags.
“Do you hear that?” Gramma said to Andy. She stood still and pressed a finger to her lips.
A moaning, whistling sound could be heard coming from the far end of the attic. The pitch waxed and waned, up and down. There was a pause and it started with its mournful cry.
“Yeah, I hear it.” Andy said. “I don’t believe in ghosts, but that’s scary.” He backed away, remembering the experience they had at Masada.
“Get over here,” Gramma said, motioning for him to stay close to her. “I’ll protect you.”
Andy frowned.
Together, they crept nearer the darkened attic wall area.
The moaning and whistling noise became louder.
Gramma pulled out her pepper spray and a flashlight. She shined the beam, moving the light around for something emitting the ghostly sounds.
An attic fireplace hugged the area.
Boxes of items stacked haphazardly about the hearth, were pushed aside by Andy to get a closer look.
“Wow. That fireplace looks old. It must be original to this house,” Andy said. “The noises sound like they’re coming down the chimney.” He stuck his head up the opening.
“It looks in good shape for as old as it is,” Gramma said. “And you’re right, those noises are coming from air whistling down the chimney. Get a photo of that on your cell phone, Andy.”
Andy snapped several pictures from all sorts of angles, including up the flue.
It was Gramma’s turn to inspect the chimney. She stuck her head up, flashed a light around and said, “Well, whattya’ know. Aha!”
“Aha, what?” Andy asked.
“Aha, this,” Gramma said, showing him a thin wire, knotted at the end, clinging to the inside of the flue. It led up and onto the roof. “I think I know what this was for.”
Gramma got on her hands and knees on the hearth. She poked about the stone and mortar for anything unusual. She pushed aside dust, dirt and small pebbles.
“Aha, again,” she said. She held up a tiny video camera for Andy to see. “Looks like the thieves left some things behind. Some of these thieving amateurs could use some classes on how to do it right.”
Gramma got off the hearth and ventured to an attic window. She opened it and poked her head out, examining the condition of the shingles. She noted the assorted chimneys peeking above the roofline. “With the pitch and accessibility of this roof, anyone could easily walk around out there from the attic, down to the second floor. I could do it myself right now if I weren’t so busy. It explains how they could’ve managed dropping things down the chimneys.”
“We’ll have to get a closer look at the downstairs fireplaces,” Andy said.
Their inspection of the attic finished, they returned to the second floor with Gramma insisting on examining each bedroom one more time.
The largest of the five bedrooms had its own fireplace which Andy inspected and photographed.
Gramma peeked up the fireplace chimney, checked the flue and the cast iron coal-burning grate. She ran her fingers across the hearth then used her cell phone to investigate some things on the internet.
Gramma and Andy inspected the other bedrooms which had no fireplaces, but instead boasted radiators for heating which were installed many years after the home was built.
“Everything all right up there?” Cabot called out.
“Yeppir. We’re coming down,” Andy said.
“Good. I think I’ll follow you around down here. I’m a little spooked,” Cabot said. “Not that I believe in ghosts or anything.”
Gramma wandered through the different rooms in the downstairs. She peeked in the kitchen at the cook stove which used a stovepipe chimney installed into a walk-in fireplace. The entire hookup was examined closely. Next, she poked around the other fireplaces and asked Andy to take pictures of them.
“When were your chimneys last cleaned?” Gramma asked Cabot. “The flues look in great shape. All the stone and brick appears to have recently been repointed. Fresh concrete and no cracks anywhere. You’ve done a great job maintaining them.”
“They were all redone about two weeks ago,” Cabot said. “For practical reasons and also for our insurance company. They want them kept up.”
“Do you use the fireplaces much?” Andy asked.
“Nah. At Christmas, I’ll light the one in the parlor, but I never use the others. It’s just too dangerous. I do burn coal in the cook stove in the kitchen, but as you can see, it has a stainless steel insulated flue, which is safe.”
Gramma got the name and address of the chimney sweep Cabot hired to do the work.
“I’ll have something for you soon. I’ve got some ideas about how your thief accomplished this. I think these professionals planted cameras in the chimneys while they did the repairs. They used them to see what was in the rooms on the nights they were ready to steal things. All this new technology has given the bad guys sophisticated tools. They were looking for particular items and found them right out there on your desk. They didn’t have to break anything to get at them. They probably knew you had the Lincoln artifacts in your private collection and came back to steal them for a buyer they already had lined up. If we move quickly, we might be able to catch the culprit and retrieve the stolen items.”
“I was really cautious when they were working, Gramma. I didn’t let any of them alone while they were doing the job. You can’t be too careful with the priceless things I have here. They’re all irreplaceable.”
“Good for you,” Gramma said. “However, the crooks just found another way to spy on you and get what they want. A problem for them is they missed retrieving a camera in the attic fireplace. Well, we’ve got it now and we’ll be dusting it for fingerprints. We’ve got an idea of how to find your items.”
Gramma and Andy returned to the bed and breakfast.
Gramma did some research about the chimney sweep company Cabot hired. Next, she telephoned Carl and gave him the sweep’s name and information about his staff. She told him about the missing artifacts, providing photographs of the items. When she finished with business, she bragged to him about acquiring a Henry Repeater cartridge.
Carl promised Gramma he’d have information for her soon. He congratulated her on her acquisition of the rare cartridge. “When you want to sell it, let me know.”
“Will do, but don’t hold your breath waiting. Oh, by the way, AGS is in town. He collects Gettysburg memorabilia of all kinds. Give him a call and see if anyone’s tried to peddle these items to him.”
During the afternoon, Andy and Gramma started the Pickett’s Charge walk to the Copse of Trees on Cemetery Ridge and the High Water Mark of the Confederacy. It was a laborious trek with Gramma and Andy discussing the futility of such a military endeavor.
While walking, Andy thought he heard sighs in the wind and shook his head as if to release them. He tripped and Gramma helped him get up.
When they got to the High Water Mark, they sat down on a bench and looked back at the field they just crossed.
Neither of them thought Pickett knew what he was doing.
Back at the bed and breakfast, Andy and Gramma had dinner in the dining room with some of the other guests. The fare was laid out on a groaning board buffet with fresh-baked bread and aromatic coffee.
Andy laughed when a young man underestimated Gramma and helped her sit in her chair.
Gramma smiled her sweetest and called him “Deary.”
The young man beamed and felt chivalrous.
“Text Lola and see how Sweetums is doing,�
� Gramma said to Andy.
Andy did so and told Gramma that Sweetums was just fine.
“Make sure Lola brushes her. My Sweetums always likes to look her best,” Gramma said.
Andy texted again.
“Lola says Sweetums continues to run the house as always. The Poodle Twins have been running through our yard and up and down the neighborhood. Twice, Lola caught them with their noses against the back window, looking in the house. And, Lola said to tell you she got straight A’s this semester. She should be finished with graduate school soon.”
“What a smart, talented and beautiful girl,” Gramma said. “I have such high-achieving grandchildren.”
Andy smiled and gave Gramma his own ‘Look.’
“My unbiased Gramma opinion,” she added. "However, if you lined up in a row, all the grandchildren in the world, people would easily pick mine out as the best. Really."
After dinner, before going into their suite, Gramma noticed the edge of something white sticking under the door at the threshold. She stepped inside and picked up the envelope.
“What is it?” Andy asked.
“We shall see,” Gramma replied. She sniffed the envelope. “Oh, my Gosh. He sprinkled the note with his after shave. That is soooo like him.”
“Who’s ‘him?’
“‘Him,’ is AGS, a fun, young American guy who does Gangnam Style music and videos. We’ll be seeing him while we’re here. He’s performing in a show nearby.”
“Cool,” Andy said. “Gangnam Style is awesome. And gangnam done by an American should be fun. I love watching the videos of our servicemen doing it.”
Lunch at the Inn of Happy Rivers
“It’s great we’re able to have lunch together, Gramma,” AGS said. “Will you be at the show tonight? He leaned in close to her ear and complimented her on the blonde wig she was wearing over her naturally gray hair. “The black-rimmed glasses are a fine addition, too,” he said.
“Why, thank you. It's not vanity, you know. Undercover work demands such touches.” She patted her hair. “I’m not sure if we can make it to the show. We’re still on the memorabilia case. It depends on what happens here. Thank you for the note you sent and the clue about the stolen Lincoln collectibles. It would’ve taken me longer to find them if you hadn’t gotten back to Carl and shoved a note under my door.”
The Amazing Adventures of Gramma Page 16