by Janet Dawson
Tidsy came out of the porter’s compartment and moved quickly down the passageway. Jill and Mike followed her to the place in front of the soiled linen locker, where the corridor jogged to the right. Now they heard loud voices.
“She’s locked herself in the damn bedroom,” Paynter said.
“What seems to be the problem, sir?” That was Frank Nathan’s voice, coming from the other end of the car.
“That little girl stole my watch,” Paynter said. “I want it back. Can’t you unlock this door?”
“I don’t believe you, sir,” Frank said. “Emily wouldn’t do anything like that. Besides, she looked like she was scared of you.”
“Of course she was scared of me,” Paynter said, “after I caught her stealing.”
Now Jill heard Cole’s voice. “Are you doubting my friend’s word? I saw her take his watch. He just wants it back.”
“I don’t think Emily would do that, sir,” Frank said. “All I’m saying is you are mistaken. I am not going to let you into that bedroom. That little girl is my responsibility.”
“Now listen…” Paynter said.
There was a flurry of movement. They were coming back this way. Jill saw Frank Nathan being propelled forward as she motioned the others into the nearest refuge, Mrs. Barlow’s roomette.
“Good heavens.” Mrs. Barlow looked aghast as three extra people crowded into her roomette. Her eyes widened when she saw the gun in Tidsy’s hand. “What do you need me to do?”
“Get out there and distract those men,” Tidsy said, “and make sure one of ’em has his back to me.”
Through the partly closed door of the roomette, Jill saw Neal Paynter. He had Frank Nathan backed up against the door to the soiled linen locker in the middle of the car. Clifford Cole was in the aisle.
Mrs. Barlow compressed her lips and she stepped out into the corridor. “You let that porter go, young man.”
“Mind your own business, you old biddy,” Cole said.
“And you mind your manners,” Mrs. Barlow said.
Now other passengers were coming into the aisle, curious about the commotion. Ed Benson rounded the corner from the bedroom section. “Let’s all calm down now,” he said, his voice reasonable. “Obviously there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. Why don’t we all take a step back and talk about it.”
“Here comes the conductor,” Mrs. Barlow said, pointing in Ed Benson’s direction. Clifford Cole took a step back and turned to look. Tidsy came out of roomette 9. She brought the butt of the gun down on Cole’s head and he crumpled, falling into the door of roomette 10. The door opened and the grumpy Mr. Smith leapt to his feet as Mr. Cole fell headfirst into the roomette, knocking over the open valise on the floor. The contents spilled out, wallets, jewelry, a gold pen, a cigarette case that looked familiar.
Mike and Jill came out of the roomette, watching as Ed Benson advanced on Neal Paynter. Tidsy leveled the gun at Paynter. “This game is over.”
Another gun appeared, in Paynter’s right hand as he shoved Frank Nathan to one side. “Looks like a standoff to me. Now get out of my way. I’m getting out of here.”
“Where will you go?” Jill stood in the middle of the aisle, her hands on her hips. “We’re in the middle of Gore Canyon. There are no roads here. There’s no way out, except on the train or on the river. It’s miles either way to the next town. It’s dark and cold outside. Go ahead. Get off the train. Try it! You’ll die of hypothermia before the hour is out.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Emily had locked herself inside bedroom A, and the toilet, for good measure. At first the little girl refused to come out, despite the efforts of Jill and Mrs.Tidsdale to convince her that she was safe. Finally Jill heard the faint click of a latch and a creak as the toilet door opened. Then Emily spoke from the other side of the bedroom door.
“Tidsy, is that really you?”
“You bet it’s me, sweetie. Come on out and see for yourself.”
“Are those bad people really gone?”
Jill leaned close to the door. “Yes, they are. The brakeman and the fireman took those bad people to the baggage car. They’re going to lock them up and make sure they can’t hurt you, or anyone else.”
Finally they heard the latch click and Emily opened the door. Jill knelt and put her arms around the little girl. Emily took Mrs. Tidsdale’s hand, questions tumbling from her mouth.
“Tidsy, you have blood on your head. How come? Does it hurt? Where did you go? I was worried about you. Me and Billy and Chip and the other kids looked everywhere for you.”
Tidsy managed a wan smile. “You were worried about me? Thanks, sweetie. Mrs. Cole whacked me on the head, because I was snooping in her room. I’ll say more about that later. Yes, hurt a lot, still does, though not as much as it did. I was out for a while. They tied me up and kept me in the Coles’ compartment. That’s why you couldn’t find me.”
“I’d like to get the full story on that,” Mr. Gaskill said. “But it will keep till later.”
The conductor, the brakeman, and the fireman had arrived in the Silver Palisade right after Jill had told Paynter to get off the train and take his chances in the cold and the dark. Outnumbered and outfoxed, Paynter had been relieved of his gun by Ed Benson, while Mike Scolari hauled Cole to his feet and took his knife. Now the two men and Mrs. Cole had been incarcerated in the baggage car, their hands tied, and guarded by the baggage man, until the authorities arrived.
“Which authorities?” Mr. Gaskill wondered aloud. “Glenwood Springs is in Garfield County, Dotsero and Bond are in Eagle County, and Gore Canyon’s in Grand County. I have no idea when or where the murder occurred, or who has jurisdiction. The county sheriffs will have to sort that out. I would appreciate all of you passengers writing out statements of what you saw. That will help us with the investigation.”
Now the conductor turned and scowled at Mr. Smith. The occupant of roomette 10, in the custody of Mike Scolari, was soon on his way to join the others in the baggage car. In his hand the conductor held Mrs. Clive’s gold cigarette case, which had been among the treasures that spilled to the floor of Smith’s roomette. The objects had been scooped up and returned to Smith’s leather valise. “It looks like you’ve been pilfering things from compartments since you got on the train in Sacramento. That means you’ve broken laws in California, Nevada, Utah, and Colorado. However, since we caught you in Colorado, they can damn well prosecute you in Colorado.”
“I just knew it,” Mrs. Barlow said, crowding closer for a better look. “That nasty man, stealing things from passengers.”
“I want my cigarette case back,” Mrs. Clive demanded.
Mrs. Loomis, watching from her doorway, rolled her eyes, while Mrs. Barlow said, “Well, I’m sure you’ll just have to wait. They’ll need it for evidence.”
The conductor fixed Mrs. Clive with an annoyed look. “The cigarette case that you accused the porter of stealing? It appears you were wrong about that. As the lady said, the case and the other items are evidence. I’m holding onto them for the time being, while I make a list and write my report. I’ll give you a receipt. When we get to Denver, these things will be returned to their owners. In the meantime, we have more immediate concerns. The track crew just arrived. We’ve got to get that boulder off the tracks and the train rolling again.”
He nodded at the brakeman and they headed forward, toward the baggage car, with Mr. Smith between them.
“Well, of all the impertinence,” Mrs. Clive complained. “I want my—”
Tidsy, her white face streaked with blood, silenced the other woman with a glare. “Put a lid on it, sister. Or I’ll put a lid on you. I’ve had enough for one day. And I’ve sure as hell had enough of you.”
Mrs. Clive squeaked with alarm and retreated to her bedroom. “I ought to deck her just for good measure,” Tidsy added. “She’s getting on my last nerve.”
Mrs. Loomis and Mrs. Barlow laughed. Norma Benson, standing outside her bedroom with her hands restr
aining her curious sons, said, “Mine, too, the minute she boarded the train.”
“I told you I found a treasure,” Chip said. “I know I wasn’t supposed to go in other people’s rooms, but the door came open and I looked inside. That man wasn’t there but that bag was. And it was full of all those pretty things.”
“Next time I’ll believe you.” His mother tousled his dark curls. “You sure did find a treasure. And a lot of trouble to go with it.”
Billy was of a more practical bent. He tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “We haven’t had our dinner.”
“I know. We’ll go to the dining car now.” Norma shepherded her two sons forward.
“I’ll come with you, dear,” Mrs. Barlow said, stepping up to join them. “My goodness, all this excitement has left me with an appetite.”
“You did good, Mrs. B,” Tidsy said.
“So did you, my dear,” Mrs. Barlow said. “Now here comes the porter with the doctor. You’d better get that head of yours seen to.”
Frank Nathan had gone to the Silver Gull to fetch Dr. Parker. The doctor frowned. “There’s a lot of blood. But it may look worse than it actually is. Let’s go inside so you can sit down and I can get a closer look.”
Mrs. Tidsdale went into her bedroom and sat down, leaning back with a sigh. Emily sat next to her, holding her hand. Jill opened the toilet door and pulled down the sink over the commode. She dampened a washcloth in the basin and then leaned over Tidsy, wiping the blood from the woman’s forehead and hair. Dr. Parker examined the wound. “You were struck on the head and unconscious for a time. Any idea how long?”
“Long enough for those goons to truss me up. They stashed me in the adjoining compartment. I think I fell asleep at some point, then woke up again.”
The doctor’s frown deepened. “I don’t like it that you were unconscious twice, whether it was due to the blow on the head or something else. The possibility of a concussion worries me. But you don’t seem confused now. That’s a good sign. Any headache, double vision, dizziness, or nausea?”
“No, I’ll be okay.”
“All the same, I recommend that you go to a hospital as soon as we get to Denver. You’ll need a couple of stitches on this cut. For now I’ll sterilize the area and apply a bandage.” The doctor cleaned the cut and dabbed it with Merthiolate from Jill’s first-aid kit, then he covered it with gauze and tape.
Dr. Parker left. Then a loud blast reverberated through the canyon. Emily jumped up, looking frightened. “What was that?”
“The track crew got here, with dynamite,” Jill said. “They’re blowing up that big rock that’s in front of the engine. Once it’s in smaller pieces, they can push them off the tracks. Then the train will start moving and we’ll be on our way to Denver. We’ll be late, but I’m sure your grandmother will be there to meet you. I’m so glad you got away from those men and locked yourself in the bedroom.”
“I was back in the Silver Solarium when those men came after me,” Emily said. “They said you wanted me, that they were going to take me to you. I was with Billy and Chip. I didn’t like to leave them alone. You know, Chip gets into mischief.”
Mrs. Tidsdale laughed at this, and Jill nodded. “Yes, I know he does. So those men persuaded you to come with them to the Silver Gull.”
Emily nodded. “And then I told them I’d show them where I hid the envelope. So we came back here, and you saw what happened. When that man let go of my arm, I ran around the corner and locked myself in this bedroom, and inside the toilet, too. I heard yelling outside. Then I heard you and Tidsy calling to me.”
Emily snuggled closer to Mrs. Tidsdale. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Tidsy. I wasn’t sure I liked you when I first saw you. But you grew on me.”
Tidsy smiled and stroked Emily’s hair. “That was all an act, sweetie. Me pretending to be drunk. You grew on me, too. You’re a pretty good poker player for a nine-year-old. You know how to bluff. So where did you really hide that envelope?”
“It’s in the Silver Solarium,” Emily said. “It’s really important?”
Mrs. Tidsdale got to her feet and straightened her red silk dress over her hips. “Yes, it is. Let’s go get it.” She glanced at Jill. “I must look like the wrath of God.”
“You look fine.”
They walked back through the Silver Palisade into the Silver Pine, then through to the Silver Rapids. The Perlmans stopped Jill, worried about the delay and fretting about making their connections in Chicago. She assured them that the train would make up time.
They continued to the Silver Solarium, walking alongside the car’s four sleeping compartments, down the steps and past the buffet and the bar, where the Finches and the Constanzas were at the booth in the corner, playing bridge again to pass the time. Miss Stafford had left her typewriter and was having a drink at one of the smaller tables, talking with another passenger. “What an adventure this has been. I may have to write a train book.”
As Emily led the way up the steps to the observation lounge, Jill glanced at the waist-high water dispenser tucked into the corner just below the stairs leading up to the Vista-Dome. That door opened, she recalled, noting the hinges on the left and the small handle on the right. Had Emily hidden the envelope there?
No, Emily walked back through the observation lounge, where two small sofas faced the car’s fish-tail back. The Finch girls and George Neeley sat cross-legged on the floor in the space between the sofas and the rear door, bouncing a ball back and forth between them. As Emily approached, all three children scrambled to their feet.
“Hey, you found Mrs. Tidsdale,” George said. “We looked everywhere, even in the bathrooms. Well, the girls looked in the bathrooms. Where were you? Hey, you got a bandage. Did you bump your head?”
“It’s a long story,” Mrs. Tidsdale said. “And yes, I do have a bump on my head.”
On either side of the Solarium’s rear door were two small tables built into the sides of the car. The one on the right held the silver tinsel Christmas tree. The table on the left held an empty glass. Emily moved the glass out of the way, setting it on the nearby windowsill.
“Are we going to do the scavenger hunt now?” Nan asked. “We were supposed to do it at five, but Miss McLeod’s been busy since the train hit the rock. But Billy and Chip aren’t here.”
“We’ll do the scavenger hunt later,” Jill said.
Emily reached for a pointed end of the triangular-shaped table and lifted it. Both the tables were hinged, with spaces inside. The one on the right contained an emergency brake valve, but the one on the left was an empty space. Now Emily pulled out a pillowcase and reached inside, removing the envelope Dr. Kovacs had given Jill, the envelope that the Coles and Paynter had killed him for.
Emily handed the envelope to Jill. “I’m sorry I took it from your compartment. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Jill took the envelope, feeling a pang as she looked at the professor’s handwriting. Then she held it out to Mrs. Tidsdale. “Will you tell me what’s inside?”
“Won’t know that until I open it. But I’m not going to do that here in the lounge where everyone can see.” Mrs. Tidsdale turned to leave.
George tugged at her sleeve. “Hey, Mrs. Tidsdale, can we play another game of poker before we get to Denver?”
Tidsy grinned. “Feeling lucky? Sure. After Emily and I get some dinner. Then I’ll meet all you kids in the lounge. Remember, the name of the game is seven-card stud.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
They got back to the Silver Palisade just as the Bensons returned from the dining car. Norma Benson hailed them. “Miss McLeod, Mrs. Tidsdale, I remember now where I saw that guy Clifford Cole. Remember, I was sure I’d seen him. It came to me at dinner.”
“Was it Los Alamos?” Tidsy asked, pausing at her door.
Norma looked surprised. “Yes, it was. How did you know?”
“A lucky guess.”
“I’d really like to hear more,” Ed said. “Can you give us the lowdown?�
�
Tidsy considered this. “You and your wife might be able to fill in some gaps.”
Ed beckoned them to bedroom E. “Let’s talk in here. We’ve got the wall open between our rooms.”
The Bensons sat on the bench seat in bedroom F, with Billy and Chip, both boys drowsy after dinner. Mrs. Tidsdale and Jill took the seats in E, Emily crowding in with Tidsy on the larger of the two.
“Are you going to open the envelope?” Emily asked.
Mrs. Tidsdale nodded. She inserted one red fingernail at the end of the flap and tore open the envelope. She pulled out several sheets of paper, unfolded them, and read, frowning. Then she folded the papers and put them back in the envelope.
“Can you tell us what it says?” Jill asked.
Mrs. Tidsdale shook her head. “Not really.”
“What did you do during the war, Mrs. Tidsdale?” Ed Benson asked.
She smiled at him. “I worked for a man named Donovan.”
“Wild Bill? You were O.S.S.?”
“Yeah. I probably shouldn’t talk too much about that. Let’s just say I was a government girl. I grew up in San Francisco, in the Mission District, like you did, Mr. Benson. Got married in nineteen forty-one, November, a month before Pearl Harbor. My husband was in the Army Air Forces and he went with Doolittle on the Tokyo raid, in April of ’forty-two. He was one of the guys who didn’t make it back. We’d been married all of six months.” She looked at Jill. “So when you told me about losing your fiancé in Korea, well, I do know what that’s like, sweetie.”
“You were going to get married?” Emily asked Jill. “But he went to Korea and died, like my daddy? I’m sorry.”
“I am, too,” Jill said. “I still miss him. It was two years ago, and it does get a little better as time passes. And if you keep busy. That’s why I became a Zephyrette.”
“I decided to keep busy, too,” Mrs. Tidsdale said. “And do my bit for the war effort. I went back east and got a job in Washington, working as a secretary for this organization that we won’t talk about. At first all I did was type and file and answer the phone. Then I got involved in the more interesting stuff. Went through a training course, learned how to use a gun and handle myself in a scrap.”