by E. Joan Sims
“Never mind what happened, Anna. What did you pick out of his pocket?” asked Horatio.
“Paisley, you didn’t!”
“I’m afraid I did, Mother,” I laughed. “I wondered if you would notice, Horatio,” I said as I sat down at the table. “Do you think Andy saw me?”
“Absolutely not. If he did he would have said something. He was flustered, but not about that. It’s quite obvious that he’s hiding something.”
“I couldn’t agree more. And I think it has to do with my old friend Bert.”
“Right you are, my dear!” Horatio exclaimed. “Now share your find with us. And by the way, you did that with the finesse of an expert.”
“Thank you,” I chuckled as he bowed from the waist.
“What is going on?” asked Mother crossly. “If you’ve stolen something from Andy Joiner, you must call him and return it this instant. I simply cannot have this kind of behavior in my house.”
“Relax, my dear,” said Horatio. “I’ve no doubt our Paisley will return young Joiner’s notebook, as soon as we’ve examined it, that is. Right, Paisley?”
“How did you know what it was?” I laughed.
“I watched him put it in his coat pocket. When the coat fell you simply took advantage of gravity and purloined…”
“Paisley, I cannot believe you did such a thing!”
“Mother, hold on just a moment. Let’s see what Andy writes down in these little notebooks. Ever since I’ve known him he has one stuck in some pocket or other.”
I leafed quickly through the pages looking for a specific notation.
“Well, that is interesting,” I observed. “There’s not a single note about our accident. All that crap about a traveling salesmen came right off the top of his head!”
“Well, I’ll be damned!” exclaimed Horatio. “I have to hand it to the young man. I didn’t think he was that fine a prevaricator.”
“This is too much for me,” sighed Mother. “I’m going to bed. Call me if you need me.”
She got up and left the kitchen without even a word from Horatio. His eyes were dancing with excitement.
“Do you mind sitting next to me, my dear? I have a most intense desire to view the notebook for myself.”
I scooted my chair around the table and turned on the lamp. For good measure, I grabbed Mother’s magnifying glass from the kitchen drawer and handed it to Horatio. The two of us sat there looking for all the world like Holmes and Watson as we leafed through Andy’s notebook.
The first few pages had notes on what appeared to be a shoplifting incident at the Quickie Mart a month ago. Next, there was a page with tag numbers and the notation, “stolen cars,” then two pages of complaints from the local citizenry about the need for a speed bump near the high school. Traffic citations and court dates filled a good part of the first half of the notebook. The back pages had several grocery items, all scratched through except for anchovy paste. We almost missed a page in the blank middle of the book with the initials, “B. A.” and directions to “m. camp,” and a phone number.
“What do you think, Horatio?”
“Of course, ‘B. A.’ could mean anything, but my best guess is, Bert Atkins. ‘M. camp’ is most likely a person, since there is a phone number. And I would think that the directions are to that someone’s house. Perhaps that’s where Bert has gone. If so, Joiner knows where he is, and why he’s there. And if that is the correct conclusion, then they’re both in on whatever, as the young people say nowadays, ‘is going down’.”
Horatio stood and stretched. He seemed frail and tired in the morning light. I wondered if he had slept at all, but I decided against suggesting that he get some rest. He knew his limits better than I.
“Do you have a map?” he asked. “A state map won’t have enough detail. A map of Rowan Springs, and maybe the surrounding counties, will do nicely.
I spent the next half hour looking for the stupid map. When I finally found it, and returned to the kitchen, Horatio was speaking quietly into the telephone. When he hung up he looked at me intently.
“This line is now compromised, my dear.”
“In English, if you please, Horatio.”
“Your telephone is bugged.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Now I’m really mad! Trying to kill me is one thing, but invading my privacy is quite…!”
“Relax, Paisley, dear. The line is under scrutiny by my own operative. If you receive any more threatening calls, Hollis will be able to record and trace them immediately. By finding the map coordinates, we can better locate the relative source of your mysterious attacker.”
“I thought we knew already? Fort Morgan is…”
“Not necessarily,” he said with a wink.
Horatio took the map and unfolded it on the kitchen table. With the magnifying glass in hand, he examined the map intently for a full two minutes before he spoke again.
“I never realized before how much virgin forest there is in Lakeland County.”
He pushed the map toward me and used the tip of his Mont Blanc pen to point out the area he was talking about.
“Here is the edge of the state park. The marina and the resort are over here. And all this is uncharted woods.”
He unfolded the map once again to show more of it. “I remember at one time,” he continued, “the federal government had an option to buy all of the area that backs up on the park. I cannot for the life of me remember what ultimately happened. Perhaps a phone call to the right person…” he mused.
“Why are you so interested in an area way out there on the other side of the county?” I asked. “Morgantown and Fort Morgan are in the opposite direction.”
“Because, my dear Paisley, if we were to follow the directions in Chief Joiner’s battered little notebook, we would discover that our Mr. or Ms. Camp lives just about here.”
He took his pen and made an “X” on the map. I pulled it closer to me so I could see. Horatio’s mark was almost in the middle of the county. It was in a heavily wooded area about ten miles from the edge of the state park. It was also just northeast of the spot where Sandlick Road came to an abrupt end on the shores of Jackson Lake.
“Oh, damn, Horatio! It’s just a hop, skip and a jump from Bert’s cabin.”
He looked at me sadly. “I know my dear. I am sorry, but it would appear that your friend may quite possibly be in this thing up to his ears.”
“Yeah,” I answered despondently. “Whatever ‘this thing’ is.”
About an hour after lunch, an unmarked van with tinted windows pulled up behind the carriage house. Four young men dressed in dark blue overalls got out and worked swiftly for the rest of the daylight hours. It was hard to tell exactly what they were doing. They worked like beavers, rarely speaking to each other, and not taking a break of any kind. When they were finished, one of them came and spoke briefly to Horatio, then they all piled back in the van and left.
Horatio took the little black plastic box they left with him and called us in to see his new toy.
“If you tell me that cute little thing is a computer, Horatio, dear, I’ll be truly impressed with your old fogey brigands.”
“Brigade, Anna, my sweet, brigade—if you must used Paisley’s terminology.”
“Is it a computer?” I asked impatiently as I examined the plastic case. It measured a mere ten inches across and weighed less than a pound. “If it is, then I’m with Mother on this one.”
Horatio smiled like the proud father of a gifted child. “I mustn’t mislead you. It cannot perform all of the functions of a computer but in certain areas it is quite astonishing. Watch!”
He opened the case and placed it on the kitchen table. A small screen in the top half, and a keyboard in the bottom made it resemble a smaller version of my laptop. Horatio pushed a button on the side and a grid flashed up on the screen. Horatio typed in a command and a bright green outline of our house and the outbuildings appeared.
“Paisley, open the d
oor and let Aggie outside, if you please,” he said.
Mother and I looked at him in amazement. It was hard to believe that Horatio had been around us so much and was still ignorant of our haughty little dog’s personality. I decided a picture might well be worth a thousand words and put my finger to my lips when Mother started to explain.
As usual, Aggie was asleep on my pillow and ignored me when I called her. When I picked up her ball and threw it, she raised her head and stared at me. Obviously annoyed, she turned around and scratched a bit to fluff up the expensive down, then lay back down facing the other way. I knew better than to try and pick her up. I had the scars to prove it. I returned to the kitchen empty-handed.
“Sorry, Horatio,” I told him. “Aggie, ah…she was asleep.”
“Hummpf,” he grunted as he headed for my bedroom. He remembered his manners and turned around. “With your permission, my dear?” he asked.
“Be my guest,” I grinned.
My grin disappeared as Horatio came back immediately with Aggie prancing smartly in front of him. Horatio opened the back door and stood to one side.
“Out you go, my girl,” he directed. “And don’t stray far.”
Aggie barked as if to say, “Aye, aye, Sir!” and ran outside. Horatio hurried back to the table and looked expectantly at his new toy.
“Ah, ha!”
We hovered next to him and stared as the little green blip that was Aggie moved around the screen. She ran to her favorite corner and accomplished her task, then the green dot headed back for the house. Suddenly, another green dot appeared and Aggie took off after it. I could hear her barking at the cat as they both ran by the kitchen window.
“Wow! Horatio, I don’t know whether I’m more impressed by this gizmo, or the way you handled our resident beast.”
I sat down and studied the screen carefully. Mother asked the question I was considering.
“Why does it stop at the back fence? That’s only two hundred feet away. I would imagine we could use more advanced warning if anyone is coming from the direction of the field.” She shuddered and rubbed her upper arms briskly. Her face looked worried in the waning light of late afternoon.
Horatio was filling the coffee maker with fresh water. He finished what he was doing before he answered.
“Unfortunately, my friend has only a limited supply of the material required for our surveillance. I won’t go into details that you may or may not understand, but as you might imagine, these things are not sold on the open market. And not just anyone can purchase them. Doing so can send up too many little red flags, so to speak.”
I gave him a sly smile.
“So!” I said. “Your friend is a clandestine operative who doesn’t want his cover blown.”
Horatio looked at me very calmly and answered. “None of us are eager to have our cover blown. Are we, Paisley, dear?”
I let Horatio have the last word since I couldn’t think of a clever enough retort. I put on my denim barn jacket and went to fetch Aggie.
The afternoon was blustery and grey. A pale, exhausted sun was rapidly seeking a resting place behind the wooded hills in the distance, its feeble attempts to warm the winter day at an end. The temperature dropped noticeably as the last light vanished behind the distant cedars.
I heard a “click” and then a “hum” as the green light from the mercury lamp on the carriage house blinked on. For a moment I was startled, forgetting that Horatio had said that since the light turned on automatically at dusk it would appear odd if it didn’t come on every night.
Aggie always refused to come if I called her, but I knew she would find me if I stayed outside long enough. The chill wind found every little gap between my jacket and me. I shivered and decided some exercise might help to keep me warm while I waited for the dog.
The ground was cold and hard and my toes grew numb as I walked, but I was restless, and it felt good to stretch the muscles of my legs. The path took me down through the orchard and back to the lane. I smiled as I imagined myself on Horatio’s screen: a large green dot advancing slowly toward the carriage house and the edge of the perimeter. My smile vanished as I remembered that beyond the screen’s limits we were blind and unprotected. I stopped and squinted through the dark at the jagged outline of trees and bushes at the edge of the field. I saw nothing moving, but there could be a silent army of men waiting and watching unseen in the tall grass.
Aggie appeared out of nowhere to nip at my heels as I ran back to the house.
“Stupid dog! You want me to break my neck?”
The last turn she took between my ankles tripped me up. I fell hard and flat right at the edge of the patio. I lay there for a full minute trying to catch my breath. Something small and shiny fluttered across the concrete and caught my eye. I reached out and picked it up. It was a band from a cigar, the kind of cigar Bert Atkins liked to smoke. I slipped it over my ring finger and stared at the gold and red paper circle while I tried to decide if I should show it to Horatio.
Aggie came back and stuck her cold little black nose in my ear. It was her favorite way of waking me up in the morning.
“I’m not asleep, dumb dog. And thanks to you, I’ve stumbled across something I must keep from an old friend who is trying his best to save my sorry hide.”
I had made my decision.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After a light supper of soup and sandwiches we had a heated discussion about what to do next. Mother wanted to call Andy Joiner back so I could confess all and return his notebook. Horatio and I voted her down. Horatio wanted all of us to stay awake once again and play spy. Mother and I wearily voted against it on the grounds that what seemed like fun and games for him was exhausting for us. I wanted to go to bed and get a good night’s sleep and wake up for a breakfast of ham and eggs before I made anymore decisions. Mother and Horatio were afraid we wouldn’t wake up at all if no one kept watch. They voted me down. I protested.
“What’s the use of your handy dandy little spy spotter if we can’t feel reasonably secure? I mean—that’s a lot of trouble for your friend’s grandsons to go to if we can’t really count on their surveillance system.”
“Paisley does have a point, Horatio, dear. And it is so delightfully James Bondish.”
“Very well,” he conceded. “I suppose one of us could keep watch at a time. But the others must sleep close by. As you so astutely surmised, Anna dear, two hundred feet is not so far away. We won’t have much time when the enemy approaches.”
“Lovely! I’ll make up the chaise in my dressing room for you, Horatio. Paisley and I can take turns sleeping in my bed, and we’ll all be within whispering distance of one another in case of an emergency. I had a nice long nap this afternoon so I’ll keep the first watch. That way I can get up early in the morning and fix Paisley’s ham and eggs.”
I grinned and Horatio grumped, but we all agreed. I decided not to say aloud what I was thinking: Mother would make a terrific general.
As tired as I thought I was, I could not sleep. I tossed and turned and listened to Horatio’s muffled snores through the bedroom door until I could stand it no longer.
Mother was in the kitchen perched on the edge of her seat with her eyes dutifully fixed on the little screen. I pulled up a chair next to her and poured myself a cup of coffee from the carafe.
“Mmmm, is this one of your special concoctions, or something from Celestine’s?”
“It’s from the coffee shop. Truffle cinnamon praline, I think she calls it,” sighed Mother rubbing her eyes. “I’m not sure there’s much caffeine in it. If there is,” she yawned, “I’m immune.”
“Go to bed, Mother. I’ll take over. I’m wide awake.”
“But it’s not your turn,” she protested. “Besides, I cannot possibly let Horatio down. He’s depending on me to do my bit.”
I smiled in the dark, secure in the knowledge that she wouldn’t see me and think I was making fun of her.
“Your bit, as you call it, is to
get up tomorrow morning and make me a full-scale, no-holds-barred, fat-gram-laden breakfast. I want as many calories and as much cholesterol as one china plate can hold. No more bran muffins and yogurt for this little secret agent. Now, go on!”
“Very well,” she agreed. “But let’s keep it to ourselves, about my quitting early, I mean. I don’t want Horatio to think I’m a,” she paused to think of the word, “a wuss.”
After another cup of coffee, I was wide awake and raring to go. I actually found myself wishing for something to happen. Long ago I had learned that forced inactivity is more stressful than anything—and not knowing when something expected is going to occur is the most stressful thing of all.
Aggie wandered morosely around the house. She was unsettled by the break in her routine. I could almost hear her thinking what was the fun of sleeping on someone else’s pillow if that someone no longer cares? She finally settled down under the table with her head resting on my feet. Her woeful little doggie sigh made me smile.
By the time Horatio came to relieve me, the level of truffle fantastico had fallen to the bottom of the coffee carafe and I was wired for sound.
“There’s no way I’ll ever sleep, Horatio. Want me to keep you company? I’ll make more coffee.”
He lowered his voice and whispered, “Just, please, I beg of you, none of that sissy coffee. Good old fashioned Kenya mountain roast is fine with me.”
Whatever happened to Maxwell House, I wondered with a smile.
The smell of fresh coffee filled the darkened kitchen. The only sound to be heard was the occasional burp of the machine as it perked away. Horatio and I sat companionably side by side and kept our vigil. After an hour or two, my back began to hurt and my eyes started to itch. I wondered how many more nights we were going to have to repeat this little performance. I asked Horatio.
“The very thing I was considering, my dear. It would seem that all our efforts are for naught. Perhaps we are expending our energy in defense when we should go on the offense.”
“Offense? Where? Against whom? With what?” I sputtered.