“More like six.”
“How did he get back so fast?”
“I don’t know.”
We yelled for ten minutes until we could hardly talk. No one answered. Our biggest problem, of course, was curled up in the corner 20 feet away, and it was getting darker.
“We’ve only got about an hour of light left,” I said, “what are we going to do?”
George looked around the room. Three 16-inch shells would no doubt solve the problem if we only had a 16-inch gun lying around. The boxes were too close to Margie to risk investigating. That left the rattraps.
“Can you kill a snake with those?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but at least we’ll know if she’s headed our way.”
George figured we had enough traps to lie diagonally across the corner about 8 feet out from us. We had no idea how far a Black Mamba could strike. There were lots of questions I wished I’d asked Frieda about Black Mambas –like are they nocturnal for example or do they sleep at night. I certainly hoped one did – at least one night.
“Take of your shoelaces,” George whispered as he laid out the traps.
I wanted to ask why, but figured it was best to just do what he said.
George tied the shoelaces to the bar on the rattrap where you normally put the bait and tied four traps together that way our trap line would be farther away from us.
“Be careful George –keep one eye on Margie.”
“Don’t worry.”
“What’ll we do if she crosses the trap line?” I asked.
George looked at me. It was still light enough to see the tears in his eyes.
“I don’t know – I’m sorry, I just don’t know.”
We hugged each other in the corner farthest away from Margie, as it got darker and darker.
About an hour later a trap went off! It sounded like a16-inch shell exploded!
33.
The noise came from the far right of the trap line.
George grabbed my hand and guided me around to the left, keeping himself between the noise and me.
We heard shuffling around again in the other room and I hoped Cecil would open the door.
“If he opens it –let’s rush the door and try too overpower him,” I said.
For me to suggest the two of us overpowering anyone would have been funny under normal circumstances. But since the choice was remaining in a dark room with a Black Mamba – George nodded, and we whispered encouragement and suggestions to each other, which included attacking certain body parts I’d rather not mention.
“That’ll stop him – I guarantee it,” George said.
The door opened slightly— the light from the room revealed a sprung rattrap lying sideways on the floor.
Margie was in the corner we’d just left!
We headed towards the door when we heard Officer Keyes yell:
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot –stay right were you are JOESPH KRINKDEL!!”
34.
“Is Margie in there with you?”
It was Frieda Krinkdel.
“Yes,” I said.
“Can you see her?”
“Yes,” I yelled, “she’s in the far corner away from us. We’re to the left of you.”
“OK – I’ll open the door slowly so she gets used to the increased light. I have a snare and Officer Keyes will use his gun if he has to.”
“OK.”
When Dr. Krinkdel opened the door, Margie stayed put.
“Watch the traps,” George said.
“Traps,” Officer Keyes said as he entered the room, “maybe I won’t fire you after all.”
“Fire me?”
“Haven’t you heard of a search warrant Cadet Watson?”
When we walked out the Ammo Room door, George and I were both surprised to see Henry and Walt standing beside the front door.
Cecil stood next to the bunk bed with one hand handcuffed to the top bunk.
“Joe from Cleveland I presume.” George said.
35.
Walt and Henry sat in the back seat of the Model T as we rode home.
“Remember when I said I saw something on the pier?” Walt asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well it was one of Cecil’s – ah excuse me, Joe’s -- lobster traps. I could tell by the way the joints were connected. The joint used isn’t easy to make, and, the thing is, it was the same joint Ferndock used on my cigar box. Then I remembered when Frieda told us that Ferndock and Joe’s father was a carpenter and taught them both. After you two took off, I waited around by the alley and Henry showed up holding a postcard.
“Postmarked Cleveland,” Henry said.” It isn’t really a Packet Post since it wasn’t sent from the ship, but to the post office. It was from Joe Krinkdel and arrived at the Port Elizabeth Post Office after Ferndock and Frieda’s ship had returned there from Durban. For some reason the letter ended up in the dead letter file along with some undelivered Port Elizabeth Postcards. It was included in the stack of Packet Post I got from the guy in Seattle. I didn’t pay any attention to it a first because it didn’t have a steamship on the back –look.”
I took the postcard, which was hard to read in the dim reflected lights from the Hamilton City streetlights. I made George pull over under a streetlamp.
F—
Mother has informed me that she is leaving everything -- the house, stocks and father’s land to you and your new wife. She’s not about to forgive me for stealing all of Dad’s tools before he died. After all I’m the best carpenter and have the same initials. I hope to never lay eyes on you again. As to your wife –I’ve never met her, and I never will----
Joe
The picture on the back was of an old sailboat on Lake Erie.
“He was wrong about that too,” Walt said.
“What?” George asked.
“Ferndock was better –his joints are perfect.
“So Frieda never met Joe.” I said.
“We weren’t sure,” Walt said, “so Henry and I ran over to check with Frieda.
“She’d never met him in her life and only had the one picture of Joe when he was young.” Henry said.
“But how did Joe know about Margie?”
Walt answered,“Ferndock wrote to him over the years trying to get back together. He had forgiven Joe. Ferndock said their mother was too tough. Somewhere along the way he told Joe about Margie, but Joe never answered the letters. When Ferndock died, Frieda wrote to tell Joe at his last known address. We were sitting in the dining room,” Walt said, “when I remembered the lock in your hand when you sat in the car – I knew where the two of you were really going.”
“That’s when Frieda, Walt and me went to Officer Keyes,” Henry said.
I sure wasn’t about to correct Henry or Walt’s grammar ever again, and knew that George would never buy a starter for the Model T. The one we have works just fine.
The End
Epilogue
Cecil met a lobsterman on the mainland near the steamship terminal when he arrived. The man owed Cecil money for some pots. The lobsterman then paid him and took Cecil back to Hamilton City right away --because there were five more pots waiting for him on the pier.
They were the same pots that Walter saw that day.
Joe probably left the snakeskin at the golf course when he collected trapped rats for Margie.
Officer Keyes figured that Cecil/Joe was planning on keeping Margie away from Frieda for a while in order to starve the snake and release him in Frieda’s house one night. As Ferndock and Frieda’s only heir –he may have though he stood a good chance of inheriting the money. The judge sentenced Joe Krinkdel to prison for 10 years for Margie’s theft and locking us in the Ammo room with her. We thought he got off easy.
Frieda decided to donate Margie to the San Diego Zoo. I don’t think I’ll be visiting anytime soon.
THE END
Series Book 4)
Missing Mamba (George Bailey Detective Series Book 4) Page 7