by Janet Dawson
“You know perfectly well what I mean,” Mrs. Clive said. “Those boys of yours are loud and out of control. Yesterday your brats were prowling around in other people’s rooms. For all I know they’ve been in my bedroom, pawing through my things with their sticky fingers.”
Now Mrs. Benson took a step toward Mrs. Clive. “My boys—”
“Slow down.” Mr. Benson reached for his wife. “Let’s go inside.”
“I assure you, we’ll make every effort to locate the cigarette case,” the conductor said.
Mrs. Clive’s face reddened with indignation. “The president of the Denver and Rio Grande will certainly hear from me.” She turned and went into her bedroom, shutting the door with a thump that reflected her pique.
The conductor gestured at Frank Nathan and Mr. Alford. “I’ll have a word with you, Mr. Nathan.”
Jill followed them forward past the roomettes to the small porter’s compartment next to the vestibule. “I didn’t steal that lady’s cigarette case, sir,” Frank said.
“I don’t believe you did,” Jill said.
“I will vouch for Mr. Nathan,” Mr. Alford said. “He’s been with the Pullman Company going on five years, with never a complaint. In fact, I know he’s found wallets and returned them to their owners with nary a bill missing.”
“We have to investigate.” Mr. Wilson took out his watch. “We’re due into Grand Junction soon, and that’s where I leave the train. I’ll brief the new conductor. Mr. Alford, you’re the Pullman conductor and the porters are your responsibility. You’ll have to search through the public areas of the sleeper cars and see if you can find that cigarette case. Miss McLeod, please talk with the waiters and stewards, just on the off chance Mrs. Clive left that case in the diner or the lounge.”
“I’ll do that as soon as I help Mrs. Tatum,” Jill said. “She’s blind and she’ll need some assistance leaving the train.”
Grand Junction was the largest town on the Western Slope of the Rockies. The Zephyr would be on the ground for ten minutes here, changing both crew and equipment. The whistle blew more crossing warnings as it moved through the outskirts of Grand Junction. Then it slowed as it approached the yellow brick station.
Mr. Webb was waiting in the vestibule when Frank Nathan carried Mrs. Tatum’s suitcase past the roomettes, followed by Jill and Mrs. Tatum herself, holding her white cane.
“I don’t for a minute believe you took that case,” Mrs. Tatum said.
“Thank you, ma’am,” the porter said.
Mrs. Tatum slipped a rolled bill into Frank’s hand. “And I appreciate all the help you’ve given me on this trip.”
“It’s been a pleasure having you aboard, Mrs. Tatum.” He pocketed the tip.
“Yes, it has,” Jill said. “I hope you have a wonderful Christmas with your daughter.”
“Same goes for me,” Alvah Webb said. “I surely enjoyed getting to know you.”
“I plan on having a lovely Christmas, my dear.” Mrs. Tatum squeezed Jill’s hand. Then she turned to the tall cowboy. “And you, Mr. Webb. I know you’ll have a fine Christmas, too, with your daughter and her husband and those grandkids. It will be all right, you’ll see.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll hold that thought. Good-bye, Mrs. Tatum,” Mr. Webb said. Then he headed forward, to his own car.
As soon as the train stopped, Frank Nathan opened the vestibule door, lowered the steps, and put his step box on the platform. Then he held out his arm. “I’m right here on your left, ma’am, if you’ll just take my arm.” He carefully guided Mrs. Tatum down to the platform, then reached for her suitcase. “Is your family here to meet you? Never mind, I see them.”
Two children, a boy and a girl, left the shelter of the station and raced down the platform, calling, “Grandma, Grandma.” Just behind them were a man and a woman. The man took the suitcase from Frank as the woman and the children embraced Mrs. Tatum.
“Oh, Mama, it’s so good to see you,” the woman said. “Did you have a nice trip?”
Mrs. Tatum hugged her daughter. “It was lovely. These people took good care of me. Is that snow I feel?”
“Sure is,” her son-in-law said as the fat flakes swirled around them. “Been snowing off and on all morning. Supposed to have more of it today and tomorrow. We’ll have a white Christmas for sure.”
A white-haired man carrying a small suitcase approached Frank and held out his ticket. “That’s the Silver Gull, sir, next car up.”
Jill left the vestibule and walked back to the Silver Solarium, where earlier she had seen Mrs. Clive climbing the stairs to the Vista-Dome. She wanted to take a look, to see if the cigarette case was up there.
It wasn’t. Jill sighed. Maybe Mrs. Clive was right, and there was a thief aboard the train. But she didn’t believe it was Frank Nathan.
She walked down the stairs and headed forward. As she entered the Silver Palisade, Mrs. Benson hailed her.
“I just want to slap that woman, after what she said about my boys,” Norma Benson said. “That’s not why I waved you down, though. I know when you wrote out that list for the kids’ scavenger hunt, you put ‘envelope’ on it. I saw Mrs. Clive’s cigarette case last night in the lounge, and it does look like an envelope. Ed and I talked with the boys. They didn’t take it. Billy and Chip may be rambunctious, and I know they were poking around in the empty rooms yesterday. But I know they wouldn’t take something that doesn’t belong to them.”
“Of course they didn’t take it,” Jill said.
“But the thought occurred to you,” Mrs. Benson said.
Jill nodded. “Yes, it did. I thought that one of the children might have taken the cigarette case, because it looks like an envelope. But I dismissed that. She says she left the case in her bedroom. I just don’t think one of the children would go into the bedroom and take the case.”
“So that leaves us with what?
Jill shook her head. “I’m not sure. Either Mrs. Clive misplaced the cigarette case. Or someone took it. But we just don’t have an answer yet.”
Outside Jill heard the new conductor’s call of “All aboard.”
Chapter Thirteen
The train picked up speed as it left the outskirts of Grand Junction, heading east through snow-covered fields toward the agricultural community of Palisade. Jill walked forward to the Silver Palace. In the office below the Vista-Dome, she introduced herself to the new Denver and Rio Grande Western conductor, a tall, rangy man in his forties.
“I’m Jim Gaskill,” he said, shaking her hand. “Before he left the train, Mr. Wilson told me about the missing items. I’ve also talked with the Pullman conductor, and the porter on the Silver Palisade. They’ve looked through the common areas of the sleepers, the linen lockers, washrooms, and so forth. But they didn’t find the cigarette case or the pen. Any thoughts?”
“I know Frank Nathan,” Jill said. “I’ve been on several runs with him. I’m sure he wouldn’t steal anything. I think Mrs. Clive must have misplaced the case. She was up in the observation car Vista-Dome this morning. I went up there to look, in between and under the seats. Nothing there except a couple of candy wrappers.”
“Let’s keep an eye out. And talk with the crew, to see if anyone saw anything.” Mr. Gaskill frowned. “I hate to think we’ve got a thief aboard, and I certainly wouldn’t want it to be a member of the crew. The railroad takes a dim view of such things. Between you and me, whoever took that case may be a passenger, in my experience. I’ve seen similar incidents in my years on the trains. We do get our share of miscreants—drunks, cardsharps, thieves and the like. Anything else to report?”
“Until now, it’s been an uneventful run. There are a lot of children on board. Some of them are pretty lively. Mrs. Clive has complained about the Benson boys. The Bensons have two double bedrooms, right next to her. Billy and Chip are rather high-spirited. I got some of the children involved in a scavenger hunt, to keep them busy.”
The conductor nodded. “Mr. Wilson told me about that
, too. Is it possible one of the children took the case?”
Jill shook her head. “I considered it, but no, I don’t think so. The children are supposed to find an envelope. They’re all old enough to know the difference between that and a cigarette case, even if it does look like an envelope.”
“Keep looking,” Mr. Gaskill said.
“I will. Anything in the train orders about the weather up ahead?” Jill asked.
“Wet weather,” the conductor said. “Be on the lookout for loose and falling rocks. That’s always a problem this time of year, when the rocks freeze and thaw over and over. We’ve had a lot of snow in this area over the past few days. And there’s snow in the forecast as we move over the mountains. Let’s hope the weather doesn’t make this run even more interesting. December in the Rockies, that’s always a possibility.”
Jill started to leave the office, then turned back to the conductor. “By the way, I’m having a Christmas party for the children in the diner, as soon as it closes after lunch, about two-thirty. Please join us and have some cake.”
Mr. Gaskill smiled. “I may do that.”
———
Jill walked back to the Silver Hostel. In the coffee shop, passengers filled the tables, ordering sandwiches from the steward. When he had a moment she asked him if he’d seen the cigarette case. He shook his head. Jill left the coffee shop. When she rounded the corner to the passageway that ran alongside the lounge, she saw Mr. Paynter walking toward her, coming from the direction of the diner. He climbed the stairs up to the upper level Vista-Dome. Jill paused in the doorway leading to the lounge. Mrs. Tidsdale sat alone at the table near the bar. She waved at Jill. “Have you seen Emily?”
“Not lately,” Jill said. “The last time I saw her, she was in the observation car.”
“Collecting things for this scavenger hunt you started,” Mrs. Tidsdale said. “I guess she’ll turn up when she’s hungry. Speak of the devil…er, the little angel,” she added as Emily appeared.
“I’m hungry,” Emily said. “Let’s go to the diner.”
Mrs. Tidsdale stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray. “Care to join us, Miss McLeod?”
“Yes, I will.” An early lunch was a good idea. As soon as she finished, Jill could start preparing for the children’s party.
She followed as Mrs. Tidsdale and Emily left the lounge. Just ahead of them, Mr. and Mrs. Cole came down from the Vista-Dome. They, too, walked toward the dining car. It was filling up now that it was past noon, and they joined the queue of passengers waiting in the passageway next to the kitchen and pantry. When they reached the counter in the middle of the car, the steward seated the Coles at a nearby table for four and beckoned to Dr. Kovacs, who was walking toward the counter from the sleeper cars.
The professor glanced at his ex-wife and her husband. Then he shook his head, refusing the seat. “Thank you, no. I’ll wait for another table. I should like to sit with Miss McLeod and Mrs. Tidsdale.”
“Certainly, sir,” the steward said. He seated another couple with the Coles. The Finches were walking this way, and Emily darted around Jill, running to meet Nan and Cathy.
Mrs. Tidsdale winced and put one hand to her head. “Oh, damn. All of a sudden I have a headache.”
“There’s aspirin in my first-aid kit,” Jill said. “Would you like some?”
“I have aspirin back in the bedroom. I’ll take some and lie down. But I don’t feel like having lunch. You and Emily go ahead.”
Mrs. Tidsdale stepped past the steward and the Finches and walked through the diner, heading for the sleeper cars.
“Why don’t you join us?” Mrs. Finch said. “The girls can sit together.”
They took a table near the middle of the dining car, with Jill and Dr. Kovacs facing the steward’s counter and the Finches opposite them. On the other side of the aisle, the three girls, Nan, Cathy, and Emily, had a table to themselves. Jill introduced the professor. “This is Dr. Laszlo Kovacs. He teaches at my alma mater, Cal Berkeley.”
“We went to Berkeley as well,” Mr. Finch said, reaching for a menu. “That’s where we met, back in the ’thirties. I majored in engineering, and Margaret’s major was public health.”
“What department are you in?” Margaret Finch asked.
“Physics,” Dr. Kovacs said. “I have been on the faculty since nineteen forty-seven.”
“That’s LeConte Hall, over by the Campanile,” Mr. Finch said. “I had a few classes there in my undergraduate days. Do you work up at the radiation lab with Dr. Lawrence?”
Yes, he did, Jill knew, recalling the talk he’d given on campus, and what the Bensons had told her about Dr. Kovacs working on the Manhattan Project during the war. But the professor seemed to sidestep Mr. Finch’s question. “I have some research projects up at the lab. But mostly I teach.” He plucked a menu from the stand and perused it.
Across the aisle, Nan Finch took one of the lunch menus from the stand, folded it and put it in her pocket. With the pencil used to mark the meal check, she drew a line through one of the items on the scavenger hunt list Jill had created earlier. “That’s the menu. Cathy, you got a coaster?” Her sister nodded. “Emily, did you get the envelope and stationery?”
“I got a piece of stationery,” Emily said. “But all the envelopes were gone from the writing desk. I’ll find another one.”
“Are you young ladies ready to order?” the waiter asked, looming over the girls’ table. The girls reached for menus and meal checks, and marked their selections. “Let’s see, that’s one bacon, lettuce, and tomato; one chicken salad; one toasted cheese; and three milks.”
As the waiter turned to the adults’ table, Dr. Kovacs marked his meal check. “This braised beef with a potato pancake sounds good.”
“Yes, it does,” Jill said. “That’s what I’m going to have.”
“Stewed chicken with buttered noodles, that’s for me.” Mr. Finch turned to his wife. “What about you, dear?”
“I’ll have the navy bean soup and cornbread, with the combination salad.” She put her menu back in the holder. Both the Finches marked their checks and handed them to the waiter. As he headed for the kitchen, Mrs. Finch gestured at the landscape outside the train window. “Goodness, look at it snow. I wonder if it will be like this all the way to Denver.”
What had been a flurry of snow when the Zephyr left Grand Junction was now a curtain of swiftly falling flakes obscuring the scenery. “Snow in the forecast, but that’s to be expected in December,” Jill said.
“Quite a change from the weather we get in the Bay Area,” Dr. Kovacs said.
They chatted about the weather until the waiter brought their lunches. The professor picked up his fork and cut into his entrée. Then he stopped and looked up. Jill followed the direction of his gaze. Was he looking at Mrs. Cole? The sight of his ex-wife, and the fact that she was on the train with her new husband, certainly seemed to bother Dr. Kovacs. But no, that wasn’t what the professor was looking at. Mrs. Cole had left her husband and their dining companions at the table, and was now walking back toward the sleeping cars. As Mrs. Cole passed the table, Dr. Kovacs still stared, frowning, at the steward’s counter, where Mr. Paynter stood, waiting to be seated. Did the professor know Mr. Paynter?
The moment passed as quickly as it had come. Dr. Kovacs took a bite of his braised beef and pronounced it delicious.
At the girls’ table, Nan picked up her sandwich. “Emily, if you want something to read, you can borrow one of my Nancy Drew books. I brought a bunch but I’ve read them all. I read really fast.”
Emily was using a table knife to cut the crusts from her sandwich. “I’ve never heard of those books.”
“You haven’t?” Nan sounded scandalized. “Oh, Nancy Drew is the best. You have to start with The Secret of the Old Clock. That’s the first one. You just have to read about Nancy. She’s a girl detective. She has her own car and she solves crimes, with her friends Bess and George. She has a boyfriend, too. Ned Nickerson.”
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br /> Emily wrinkled her nose. “Boyfriend? Ick.”
“When girls get older they have boyfriends,” Nan said. She lowered her voice. “I have one, but don’t tell Mom.”
“Is it that guy Fletcher?” Cathy demanded. “I saw him kiss you after the school play.”
Nan shushed her younger sister, then all three of the girls burst out in giggles. Jill smiled. It was good to see Emily having fun, since she’d been such a shy little mouse when she’d boarded the train.
The snow stopped as the California Zephyr passed the Roller Dam, with its red-roofed outbuildings, which diverted water from the Colorado River to the Highline Canal, feeding the area’s vineyards and orchards. Then everything outside the window darkened. The train had entered the Beaver Tail Tunnel. When it came out the other end, they were near DeBeque Canyon. The river was close to the tracks here, and the canyon was prone to rock slides.
When they’d finished lunch the waiter cleared their plates and asked if they’d like dessert. Dr. Kovacs declined and excused himself, heading back to his roomette in the Silver Palisade. The Finches decided to share a piece of pie.
Jill glanced at her watch. It was 12:42 P.M. The train was due into the small town of Rifle in twenty minutes. They would reach Glenwood Springs, the next station stop, at 1:35 P.M. After that she’d need to get ready for the party.
“No dessert for me,” she said. “But I’ll have coffee.”
Chapter Fourteen
The middle-aged couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kelsey, had boarded the train in Green River, Utah, traveling to Ottumwa, Iowa, for the holidays. Now Mr. Kelsey stood outside the doorway to compartment H, a distressed look on his face as he spoke to the conductor.
“We went back to the observation car, up to the Vista-Dome,” Mr. Kelsey said. “After that, we had lunch in the dining car. Then we came back here to our compartment. Once we were inside, my wife noticed that her overnight case had been moved. She looked inside, and well, something is missing. It’s a brooch, belonged to her grandmother. She’s pretty upset about it.”