Miss Thorne Blossoms

by Jordan Bollinger

  Neil leaned forward, against the table and asked, "You're telling us that there is a twelve-year-old child under this fiend's control?"

  "Yes."

  "If she hasn't been killed yet," Meg added.

  "We have to find out who is behind this," Gus exclaimed. "It simply cannot continue!"

  After more silence, Neil asked, "Were you able to find out anything about Brumbell?"

  "Yes and no," Preston replied. "He was originally from Chicago. Well, a small town just outside of Chicago. He left his parent's home and moved to Chicago. He worked hard—moving from one job to a better one—and eventually began buying real estate. Just small properties at first, but he kept working. And, while he's never been arrested for anything, he is somehow often on the fringes of trouble. If that makes any sense."

  "Has he never been connected to questionable businesses?" Gus asked.

  "No," the judge answered, "never."

  "I just don't see," Sheriff Dunkirk moaned, "how any of this helps us."

  "That's just it. It doesn't." The judge sighed and added, "I'm beginning to think that keeping everything that's happened to ourselves is a mistake. We're going to have to tell the mayor and town council, at the very least. In fact, it might be best to call a town meeting and tell everyone all that's happened."

  "It just seems like such a rash act," Neil said.

  "Still..." the judge said.

  Gus looked at him, and said, "You've definitely decided, then...about what's to be done next?"

  "Yes. I have," he said, "At least...I believe I have." After a drawn pause, he continued, "I can't think of anything other than to have a meeting with the mayor and town council. I'll speak to them myself. But, I'm sure they will also want to speak to all of you, as well. I've had Jim rearrange my schedule. In fact, he's attempting to postpone all the pending cases I was to hear, so I will be able to stay here for as long as necessary."

  "But," Meg began, "that's a good thing, isn't it? Everything will be out in the open."

  "Yes, it will be—out in the open. That's the trouble. I'm not at all sure that will be a good thing," Gus muttered, shaking his head.

  "Why?"

  "As you said, everything will be out in the open."

  "But, then people will help us. Someone knows something. Someone will come forward," Margaret insisted.

  "Yes. However, someone has always known something, and that hasn't made them come forward, has it?" Gus paced the room, as the others watched him and waited.

  Finally, he spoke, "If you go to the mayor and town council, as you propose," Gus said, looking into the judge's eyes, "someone will probably come forward, and all the secrets will come out. But, I don't believe this openness and honesty will have the effect you are hoping for. In fact, I'm sure it will have the opposite effect.

  "It's going to make the general populace unhappy. Many of the ladies of Manchester will become suspicious and discontented. All the innocent men in town will be made uncomfortable and somehow made to feel guilty, just for being men.

  "While the business' patrons—the guilty men—will only work harder doing whatever they are able to, to try avoid detection. And even after they've finally realized there was no way out and admitted their participation, they'll still do all they can to deny any knowledge of the more ugly aspects of the business.

  "The result of everything come spilling out, will only be the revelation that our town has a sordid underbelly we never knew existed. Manchester will have lost its innocence. And, we will all be the worse for it."

  Meg looked from one man to the other. After several moments, she said, "Gus might be right, Judge. Maybe telling everyone isn't the thing to do. I should probably stay out of the discussion, but I do see what Gus is saying. And, I can understand how disturbing this information is going to be, without even dealing with the murders, abortion, or 'Soothing Syrup' issues.

  "I understand how the news that there's a brothel, here in this town—our town—is going to devastate many who aren't overtly involved. So, I can't even pretend to imagine how it will affect those connected people's families."

  "While nothing like this has happened here," Gus began, "I've seen how a scandal like this can effect a town—back in Denmark. It rips it apart! And, one of the biggest problems I observed was that punishing those guilty of only moral crimes, became more important than dealing with the real criminals." Once he'd finished speaking, Gus looked at the others.

  "This just can't go on," Meg cried.

  "I'm sorry, my dear," Judge Preston said in Meg's direction. "But, I realize what Mr. Gunderson was saying is the truth. While I can't begin to imagine what it's like to be living through this, I now see announcing everything that's gone on—even to just to the town council would be a mistake. Even if we swore them all to secrecy, things would leak out. And, that's assuming that no one on the council is a brothel customer."

  "So," Gus asked, "what do we do?"

  "I don't know," Judge Preston admitted. "While I agree we can't tell the town, I don't have any other ideas."

  "You said you've cleared your calendar," Meg repeated. "Why can't you stay here in town? Perhaps, your presence will somehow help."

  "I don't see how," he answered.

  "Nor I," said the doctor. "But, it couldn't make things worse, either."

  "Maybe, maybe not," Gus said. "Perhaps we should give it a try."

  "Judge," Victoria began, "would it be possible for you to get another clerk? I mean, someone other than Mr. Stuart."

  "Well, yes, I suppose so. Why?"

  "What if he were to come and stay here in town? And, he...was looking for some...ah...something to do...after work," the doctor explained. "No one would tell you anything? But, might they tell your assistant?"

  "Again, maybe. Maybe not," the judge answered. "At least it's a fresh idea. We can make use of it. What if I were to speak to Stuart privately and then, very publically, send him home? He could go stop in the next town to telegraph for another clerk. He can meet the man, and brief him, and then send him here."

  "I think that will work," Meg began. "What we need is an entirely new person. Someone that has nothing to do with you, or the town. Someone who has nothing to do with any of us. The judge should keep Mr. Stuart with him. Just send him to the next town to telegraph for another man—but don't acknowledge him. Let him just show up in town. Have him stay at the hotel, ask about some property for sale, and visit the saloon. It might take a week or so, but then, if he asked about some entertainment, someone might actually tell him about the brothel."

  "I don't know," the judge protested. "Clerks aren't trained to sleuth. What we need is someone who is—like a Pinkerton detective."

  "Yes!" Gus said, without waiting for anyone else to speak, he continued, "And, I'll pay for everything, initially. If it works, I'll ask for the town council to contribute. If it doesn't, we'll have to think of something else."

  A small, sly smile spread over his face, as he continued, "In fact, I think that you, judge, as well as your clerk, should move to the next town. That way you're near enough to be communicated with in person. I think we need at least two Pinkertons, perhaps even more."

  "More than one?" Neil asked.

  "Yes. In fact, I think we should hire three or four," Gus answered. "And, they should not acknowledge each other. They should each arrive on their own, for different reasons."

  "Three or four..." Meg repeated. "That sounds very expensive."

  "I don't care," Gus insisted. "This situation has gone on far too long already. And, even this new strategy is going to take some time to work."

  "I can help with the costs," the doctor said.

  "We can argue about the costs later," Gus said. "We need you and Mr. Stuart to leave Manchester. Then, after you get yourselves set up in a nearby town, contact the detective service. I am serious about a number of detectives. One should claim to be a farm hand looking for work. I'll hire him. He can intermingle with my men—since we know that at least the o
ne hand was visiting the brothel.

  "The second should be an older, more professional type of gentleman...looking for properties, or something. He can check into the hotel and go around looking at different pieces of land. The third should be a man down on his luck. Perhaps he has a drinking or gambling problem. I bet that Neil could find enough non-technical work on the surgery building to provide him with a bit of pocket money. And, the last man should look very suave, well-dressed, and wealthy. Maybe he's interested in either setting up a rival saloon, or a gambling establishment."

  "But why so many?" Meg asked.

  "To insure that at least one of them manages to gain access to this allusive brothel. They're backgrounds should be diverse enough to allow at least one of them to pass muster."

  The judge looked around the table at them all, rose, and said, "Yes. I see the wisdom of the plan—of the men's diversities. And, Jim and I shall pack up and move on immediately. I will send you a telegram when I've made the arrangements. But, I warn you, it will be vague. After that I will write to one or another of you. Perhaps, you all should answer by writing to my clerk. That shouldn't raise any suspicions."

  He shook hands with everyone and then moved to the door. There, he stopped and said, "Farewell. I'm leaving here with a good feeling. I truly believe this will work."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Once the judge was gone, Neil and the doctor left, leaving Meg alone with Gus. However, Eva was bustling around in the background.

  "We need to start planning our wedding."

  "I told you before, Gus," Meg said, as she placed her hand over his, where it lay on the table, "I don't think we should get married until everything going on has ended."

  "I know you did. But, things are never going to be perfect—ever. Besides, I've waited for over a year and a half," he answered, before he gave her a hang dog look that made her burst out laughing.

  Eva looked up from her work, and said, "Please agree to the wedding. Ma says we can only marry after you two do."

  "But—"

  "No buts!" Gus said. "We aren't just talking about our happiness—but Eva and Brian's, as well."

  "All right," Meg conceded. "I give up."

  "Good," Gus exclaimed.

  "But not before the new year," Meg insisted. "Unless everything is settled before...and even then."

  "What?" Gus asked.

  "I'm just not sure I want to be married around Thanksgiving and Christmas. Perhaps, I'm being foolish, or even selfish, but I want my anniversary—our anniversary—to be special. Not muddled in with other holidays."

  Gus sighed, but conceded, "All right, you win. We'll wait until the new year—no matter what."

  The smile Meg gave him made him sorry to what he'd just agreed to. But, he would honor her wishes, and wait.

  *****

  It was several days later when the doctor received a cryptic telegram from the judge, which she immediately carried off to show first Neil, and then Margaret.

  Dr. Thorne,

  I have spoken to my physician, as you'd instructed.

  He agreed with all your recommendations, which I have implemented.

  Thank you for your concern.

  Judge Preston

  Both agreed with her assessment—all their plans had been arranged. So they expected to notice at least one of the detectives to arrive soon.

  Then, at last, they would find something out, and the mystery would be on its way to being solved.

  *****

  That evening, as Victoria and Neil were just finishing up their dinners, a tall, gray haired man entered the dining room and was shown to a remote corner table.

  When Ann, the waitress, came to refresh their coffee, she whispered, "You see that man in the corner? He's here looking for real estate. He's talking about building one of those department stores—just like in Chicago."

  "Really?" was all Victoria said. But, as soon as Ann had moved on, the doctor whispered to Neil, "Do you think we can assume he is the first of our detectives?"

  "Yes," Stratton agreed. "I only hope this works." Then he stood up, and said, "I'll pay for our dinners on my way out. I'll look in at Meg's before I return to the surgery. I'm sure they'll pass on the information tomorrow."

  "You know I've asked you not to pay for my meals," Victoria protested as she smiled, before adding, "but thank you. I'll see you in the morning. Good night."

  Late the next morning, a dark man on a bay horse rode up to Neil, where he was sawing a plank, and asked, "I'm looking for a job. Do you know of anyone looking for a farm or ranch hand?"

  "Gus Gunderson can usually use another hand. Just keep heading out of town and you'll come to his spread. I'm not sure where you'll find him. But his housekeeper will know."

  "Is he a good boss?"

  "I couldn't answer that. However," Neil said, "he's a good man. His hands seem to like him. And, I've never heard of any complaints about him."

  The dark stranger tipped his hat, and replied, "Thank you."

  Neil stared as the horse and rider trotted out of town. Once they disappeared around the bend of the road, he walked across the street and into the workshop.

  All eyes looked up when a gentleman entered, but only Eva and Meg went to meet Neil. "How are you ladies, this morning?"

  "We're fine," they answered in unison.

  In a loud voice, Meg asked, "How can we help you today?" But in a barely audible whisper, she said, "We saw the man just now. I assume you sent him to Gus.'"

  "I forgot to pass a message on to you from the doctor this morning. She would like to stop by later. Perhaps, after dinner. Can I tell her that's all right?"

  "Certainly. We'll expect her."

  "I'll tell her when I go to the surgery at noon." He called out to the others, "Good afternoon, ladies." And left.

  Later in the afternoon, Victoria watched an old, bent, grizzle-haired man meandering down the street, leading two mules as they pulled a small covered wagon. He pulled up in front of the livery stable and disappeared inside for several minutes. When he returned, he tugged the mules around to the back of the building.

  While dining that evening, she and Neil noticed another newcomer. He was a middle-aged, extremely well-dressed, well-groomed man. In fact, he was almost too well-dressed and well-groomed.

  So, the conspirators knew their detectives—or, as they referred to them as: the businessman, Mr. Gillis; the ranch hand, Jake; the transient, Will; and, the gambler, Philip Raveneau—had arrived not only in Manchester, but positioned in their respective roles. Therefore, surely one of the investigators would soon discover something.

  They had to.

  *****

  It was three days later when the doctor and Neil, Miranda, Kit, and Gus gathered around Meg’s kitchen table for a meal.

  Gus began, "Well, Jake seems to be fitting in nicely—not that he's learned anything."

  "Will," Kit said, "is working at the livery stable. I talk to him every evening when I bring Molly her carrots and apples. And, while he don't say much, he has told me he ain't found anything out."

  "Mr. Gillis has spoken to me several times," Neil added. "He keeps coming around asking allegedly about either renting the new building, or buying it outright, but he hasn't gotten anywhere, either."

  Victoria pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of her skirt, and announced, "This is from Mr. Ravenau, saying the same. He dropped it on the floor next to me in the restaurant this morning. But, they've only been here a few days."

  *****

  "Doctor! I need the doctor!" a voice shouted, as they pounded on the surgery door.

  Neil stumbled down the stairs, opened the door, and looked into the darkness to find Gus' detective-hired hand, Jake, holding another man up as well as he could.

  Stepping back, he said, "Bring him in! Settle him in on that cot. The doctor stays at the hotel. I'll go fetch her!" before he disappeared into the night.

  He returned a few minutes later, leading the doctor, who was b
arefoot and wearing only a dressing gown over her nightdress.

  "Who is he?" she asked, as she stepped into the examining room.

  "One of Gunderson's hands."

  She sighed, and said, "Was...was one of Gus' hands." She turned to the man and said, "You should go for Gus." Then she looked at Neil and added, "You should probably go for Frank, as well."

  *****

  "Hell!" Frank hissed. Then, remembered the doctor had been joined by Meg, Eva, and Kit, for he apologized, "I'm so very sorry, ladies."

  "Don't worry about it," Victoria said. "I'm sure we all understand how you feel."

  "What happened?"

  "It seems our detective was making some strides with the man. He'd told him he'd 'ask around' about finding a willing companion. They were to meet here in town, about midnight. When our agent discovered the man, he was in a stupor, so he brought him here, to the surgery."

  "What did the man die from?" Frank asked.

  "Well," Dr. Thorne answered, "I couldn't swear to the exact cause, but I'm willing to hazard a guess—'Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup'. He'd either been forced to drink an entire bottle, or he was a regular user and someone gave him a tampered bottle. It's no wonder he was in a stupor. I'm amazed he was still alive when Jake found him."

  Kit and Eva looked at one another, and went to the kitchen in silence, just as there was the sound of boots scraping on the porch.

  The door opened, Gus entered the room, and boomed, "Now what?"

  "Now Gus," Meg stated, in a remarkably tranquil voice, "you might as well calm down, because what's done is done."

  "All right, my dear," he conceded. He looked at Margaret, and then in a low, well-controlled voice, asked, "Could someone please tell me what has happened?"

  Frank frowned, before announcing, "Our local villain has done it again. He's murdered one of your ranch hands—just before he was about to introduce Jake to...ah...to...introduce him to some female companions."

  The doctor stepped forward and held out her closed palm. She opened it to reveal another empty little bottle of 'Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup.' "I've already told the others, I can't tell if someone forced your man to drink down a bottle, or if he had the habit—and took his normal nip, not realizing someone had tampered with it. I might be able to discover something. Although, I have no idea how. And, even then it probably wouldn't help. Whoever we're fighting is extremely clever and careful."