by Gwen Mayo
The professor had continued his narrative, oblivious to his niece’s reverie. “And the fishermen were preparing the mullet for shipping. Chopping the heads off, gutting them, and tossing the bits into the river.”
“Ugh! What a horrible thing to do to the water,” Rosemary Carson said. “I shan’t be taking any dips in the river.”
“You wouldn’t want to swim here anyway. The show was well attended by an aquatic audience—gulls, pelicans, and alligators.”
“I saw a few alligators on our trip to the Gulf, but that was at a distance,” Teddy said. “How large were the ones you saw?”
“Most were around ten feet long, but a few were easily eleven or twelve feet.”
“Weren’t you worried about being in the same river on a relatively small boat?” Rosemary asked.
“That’s why my guide had the shotgun and rifle,” Uncle Percival said. “He didn’t seem very worried. He told me that alligator was rather tasty.”
“Oh, the flavor isn’t bad,” Cornelia said, “but the texture is a bit on the rubbery side. Given a choice, I would take a nice shark steak over alligator any day.”
The professor’s bushy brows rose and he gave his niece an appreciative glance.
“Really Cornelia, you surprise me sometimes. I had never thought of you as an adventurous eater.”
“She wasn’t all that adventurous with the snails in France,” Teddy teased.
Cornelia’s posture became more rigid than usual.
“I tried the snails when they were served. No matter how much garlic and butter our French hosts put on them, they still tasted like peat moss.”
“They were a delicacy,” Teddy protested.
“You can call dirt a delicacy, but it’s still dirt.”
The professor laughed. "I had never considered how many exotic delicacies you had the opportunity to sample in your travels. You must find home cooking somewhat pedestrian."
"Not at all. I'd trade a month's pay for Momma's fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and an unhealthy portion of her blackberry cobbler with homemade ice cream."
"That sounds like a meal that would be worth a month's pay," Mr. Carson said. "I haven't had blackberry cobbler in ages."
"You haven't picked blackberries in ages, dear,” Rosemary said. “If I recall correctly, you were complaining about chiggers and snakes the whole time they were in season."
After dinner, Cornelia took her uncle aside. She told him what the tour boat driver had said about the chauffeurs’ cabin being the only place a man like Jake Mayfield would be allowed to stay.
Professor Pettijohn’s face flushed and, for once, he didn’t look like Santa Claus. “This new Klan is worse than the old one. In my day, they didn’t try to mix it up with Christian morals. Now people think they’re doing God’s work when they tread on their fellow man.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “But I knew you would want to know. Do you think we should leave tomorrow?”
The old man thought for a moment, then shook his head. “We only have one more day here, and it’s paid for,” he said. “Besides, our car is still awaiting repairs. I called the garage in Ocala this afternoon, and they’re still waiting for the part. They think it may arrive tomorrow.”
“They think?” How long would it be? And when had it become ‘our’ car, rather than her car?
“They’re blaming the rail embargo, of course. We may need to inform the Vinoy Hotel that our arrival in Saint Petersburg has been postponed.”
Chapter 5
Mr. Rowley and a uniformed man close to the same age but a bit thicker around the midsection stood there when Cornelia opened the door. She wasn’t sure how well Rowley knew the officer, but there was no trace of his usual good humor. He looked downright uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry to bother you ladies at this hour, but Andy—Deputy Andy Davidson needs to speak with you both. He’s been taking statements from witnesses to the fight on the train, and, I guess, to Mr. Janzen’s final illness.”
Cornelia glanced back at the beds, neatly separated again. No unmentionables in sight. “Ah, of course. Please come in.”
Davidson turned to his companion. “I need to talk to the witnesses alone. I’m sure you understand, Pete.”
A glance of barely controlled hostility passed between the two, then Rowley left.
“You two know each other?”
“Went to school together,” the deputy said, and pulled out his notebook. “Now, you are Mrs.—”
Grr. “Miss. Miss Cornelia Pettijohn.”
“Right. You were the first one who went upstairs when the victim took sick.”
“He’d been sick for a while,” she corrected. “Since the trip on the train.”
“I see,” the deputy said, writing a note. “Did his illness begin before or after the fight?”
“I didn’t take notice of him before the fight began,” Cornelia said. “Once we were enroute to Homosassa, it was clear that he wasn’t feeling well.”
“When you say ‘it was clear’, what do you mean?”
“He was pale, diaphoretic—”
Deputy Davidson looked up from the notepad. “Dia-what?”
“Sweating a lot. Even for a packed passenger car in Florida.”
“Ah.” He wrote another note.
“He visited the lavatory with increasing frequency, and remained longer each time,” she added.
“Did you know him personally?”
“No.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You seem to have paid a good deal of attention to him.”
“I am a nurse. I have earned my living by paying attention to such things for more years than you have been alive. It is second nature to me to notice signs of illness.”
“Besides,” Teddy said, emerging from the bathroom in a shimmering dress of peacock colors, “I was watching him, too. He’d been in a big fight. We thought he might have been seriously injured.”
She turned her back to Cornelia. “Zip me up?”
Deputy Davidson had the grace to blush at the sight of the exposed skin and ladies’ foundation garments.
“You’re rather flashy tonight,” Cornelia observed. “I’m surprised you’re not wearing the red dress, though.”
“I’m saving that one for the Professor’s birthday on Saturday. We need to do something special for him.” She plopped on her side of the twin beds and began stuffing her feet into tiny pumps, giving Davidson a flash of garter that Cornelia hoped was accidental.
The deputy’s eyes were definitely averted. “Yes, your uncle. I’ll be interviewing him next. Do you know why the fight started?”
Cornelia blinked. “No. Why?”
He made a note. “Witness doesn’t know why the fight started.”
Teddy, fully dressed, came over. “Neither do I. So, why were they fighting?”
“That’s neither here nor there.”
“Nonsense! Motive is very important,” Teddy said, adjusting the beaded bandeau adorning her silver hair. “You should speak to Mr. Hofstetter. He was the one who punched him, and I’m sure he had a reason.”
Davidson closed his eyes and gripped the bridge of his nose. Cornelia turned to hide a smile.
“Please, Miss—”
“Lawless.”
“I’ve already interviewed Malcolm Hofstetter. I want to know what you saw and heard. Sheriff wants a complete report.”
“Oh. Well, I heard him—Mr. Hofstetter, as I found out later—call Mr. Janzen a bounder. He also said something that sounded like his presence at the station wasn’t a big surprise. I don’t remember the precise words.”
Davidson made yet another note. “Did Janzen say anything?”
“Something like ‘Let me go’.”
“And then?”
“Hofstetter socked him. On the jaw. Janzen fell down, but he got back up on his own. He grappled Hofstetter and tried to poke him in the eyes. Hofstetter shoved him away and gave him a heck of a wallop in the abdomen. Dr. Duffy thought the
blow might have caused internal bleeding, but later he wasn’t as sure.” Teddy stood and smoothed her dress. “He said Mr. Janzen might have ingested something corrosive after he examined the stomach and intestines.”
“Mm-hmm.” Davidson swallowed uncomfortably and made a note. “Like..?”
“He didn’t say. He took samples of blood and stomach contents.” She widened her eyes for innocence. “Did he give you those?”
Disgust flashed across the deputy’s face. “Yes. The hotel packed it in ice for me.”
“I hope you can find out what’s in it. The odor from the abdominal cavity was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.”
The deputy’s tanned face paled. “I’ll leave that to the appropriate authorities, ma’am. Thank you very much for your time.”
He beat a hasty retreat. The pair waited until he had closed his car door before they laughed.
“If that young man wants to continue in law enforcement, he is going to need a stronger constitution,” Cornelia said. “What’s he going to do when the gruesome parts aren’t packed for him?”
The ladies joined Uncle Percival outside the lodge, where they awaited their ride to the evening’s entertainment.
“Did the sheriff’s deputy speak to you yet, Professor?”
“Yes, he did, Theodora. I regret I was unable to be much help describing the fight, since I was examining the train’s engine. Mr. Janzen was already ill when he sat next to me, and he didn’t stay in his seat very long. By his fifth trip to the facilities he was unable to utter more than a groan, so I gave up any attempt to engage him in conversation.”
“That must have been hard on you, Uncle,” said Cornelia. “I imagine he made a miserable travel companion. He made a great number of trips to the lavatory. I still wonder about the cause.”
She was nudged by Teddy. “It’s our turn for a car, finally.”
They approached the waiting Cadillac. A man with evening stubble got out of the car. He opened the door for Teddy and Cornelia, then went around to open the far door for the Professor.
“I’ve seen this type of car before,” Cornelia said. “Everywhere, it seems.”
“I think it’s standard issue from the company,” the chauffeur said, climbing in.
“I hope we get there before they start the film.” Teddy tapped his seat with her cane. She’d wanted to leave it behind, but Cornelia had reminded her of how many times they’d already had to stand in line for Company events. “How fast can you drive?”
“Plenty fast, ma’am.” He revved the car, and they lurched away from the hotel in a spray of crushed limestone. The vehicle bounced on the rutted road, and they reached for handholds.
“If we don’t get there on time,” Cornelia said, “it’s because you took forever with your makeup. Who do you expect to see you in the dark?”
“It’s for the party afterward. I hope someone spikes the punch.”
“You always hope someone spikes the punch.”
The driver muffled a snort with his hand. “Homosassa Hotel directly ahead, ladies. Busy place tonight.” Cadillacs lined the curb in front of the grand manse. He pulled their vehicle into the queue.
Teddy clutched her cane. “Perhaps we should get out and walk from here.”
“You’re awfully eager to see this film,” Cornelia said.
“I didn’t get to see The Freshman when it came out.”
“With Harold Lloyd?” their driver said. “You’ll like it. It’s a riot.”
“That settles it. Stop the car.” Teddy disembarked and set a swift pace for the hotel, Cornelia close behind. The professor followed at a more sedate pace.
“You’re going to wind yourself,” she warned Teddy.
“As long as I recover before the party. They’re supposed to have a dance band tonight.”
Their driver was correct about the movie. The misadventures of Harold Lloyd on the football team had the three of them laughing.
“Splendid movie,” Pettijohn said as they exited the hotel’s makeshift theater. “I think I had a student or two like ‘Speedy Lamb’.”
“There were a few like him in the ranks as well. Will you be going to the ballroom with us for the party?”
“No, Teddy dear, I believe I’ll return to the hotel for some light reading before I turn in. It’s been a busy day, and I trust tomorrow will be the same.”
“Oh, for an evening of light reading,” Cornelia said after they’d seen him off. “It sounds so much nicer than loud music and dancing.”
“We don’t have any light reading,” Teddy replied. “Just Gertrude.”
“Good point.”
The band was playing ‘Nobody’s Sweetheart’ when they entered the ballroom. Vases of fresh flowers in vibrant shades of orange and yellow stood on pedestals along the walls.
Knots of people stood on the dance floor talking. All of them were younger than Teddy and Cornelia. A few of them glanced over at the pair, puzzled.
“They probably think that we’re here as chaperones,” Cornelia said.
Teddy laughed. “We’ll just let them know that we’re not Mrs. Grundys.” She made a beeline for the closest group, Cornelia trailing behind as usual.
“What a beautiful headdress,” Teddy said to one of the young women. “Did you have it custom made for you? I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
Neither had Cornelia. The pink feathers reminded her of the flamingos she’d seen in Cuba during the Spanish-American war.
The girl smiled. “I had it made just for this trip.”
“It becomes you,” Teddy said.
The two plunged into a conversation about clothing, and Cornelia did her best not to sigh.
One of the young men, a tan fellow with slicked-back black hair, decided to be polite to her. “Are you enjoying the area, ma’am?”
“I’m enjoying the terrain,” she replied. “The exotic plants, and especially the variety of birds.”
“Oh,” he said. “My abuela likes birds, too.”
“Many old ladies do.”
His response was a genuine smile, revealing teeth whiter than his linen suit. “So, how’d you end up here?”
Cornelia returned the smile. “In Florida, or in this ballroom?”
“Both.”
“My uncle is looking for a winter home.”
He hesitated. “Your… uncle?”
“I know, you’re thinking that he must be as old as Moses. If he isn’t, he’s getting close.”
The young man laughed. “I think I know which one. Looks like the American Santa Claus, but with a shorter beard?”
“That’s him!”
Teddy turned to them. “And who is this dashing gentleman?” She fingered her long strand of beads.
“I apologize. I didn’t ask your name. I am Cornelia, and this is Teddy.”
He bowed quickly. “Pleased to meet you both. My proper name is Santiago, but I go by Chago.”
“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Chago.”
The band struck up ‘Let’s All Go to Mary’s House’, and people began to dance. The talkers moved to the edges of the room. Cornelia moved with them, but Teddy tapped Chago’s arm.
“Dance with me, won’t you? I love dancing, but I can only do it for a little while.”
“Of course I will.”
She gave her cane and silver clutch to Cornelia. “Hold this for me, won’t you? I’ve got a strong arm to lean on.”
Teddy and her dancing. Cornelia couldn’t help but smile. Her lungs might fail her, but Teddy’s feet never did when she heard a lively tune. She had to be at least thirty years older than any of the other women twirling on the floor, but that didn’t embarrass her. It was one of the many things she loved about Teddy.
She scanned the people hovering around the edges of the room. A few of them might be classified as mature, but most were in their twenties. Cornelia spotted a familiar face: Kathleen’s. The girl must have slipped away from her aunt for the evening. She’d appl
ied lipstick—albeit inexpertly—and wore a smart sleeveless dress that was long enough for modesty.
The first song ended, and ‘The Charleston’ was next. A whoop went out, and the floor filled quickly. Teddy kicked next to Chago, delight on her face. Their young neighbor rushed to join in.
A middle-aged man approached Cornelia. “Pardon me, madam,” he said, “but I noticed you were sitting this dance out. May I sit it out with you?”
Cornelia studied the man, who had thinning dark hair with white temples. “Certainly. I’m Cornelia. And your name is—?”
“Leo. Are you staying here at the hotel?”
“No, we’re in the Riverside Lodge. This place was booked for the entire week.”
“It looks it. Are you enjoying your visit so far? Will you be buying into the project?”
Drat. A real adult to talk to, and he was one of the land speculators. “My uncle is the one who will decide about that. Peter Rowley is our agent.” That should drive him off.
“Is he here?” Leo’s dark eyes scanned the room. “A thoughtless man, to leave you by yourself in a strange place.”
“Of course he’s not here. He went back to the hotel after the movie. I assure you, I can take care of myself.”
She watched him size her up. She’d pinned her hair in a twisted bun this evening; no flapper bob for her. Her gown was the matronly type, black silk with a modest neckline and black lace sleeves. The long waist was a concession to modern style, but even that was belted, though there were a few rhinestones on the buckle.
“I’m certain you can,” Leo said after a moment. “Perhaps he brought you because he was in a strange place, then.”
This made her laugh.
“He brought us because I own a car,” she told him, “and he was too independent to take the chauffeured ride from Jacksonville that West Coast offered.”
If there was one thing Pettijohns hated, it was being beholden to others. Family didn’t count, though.