Crossings (A Harry Reese Mystery Book 2)

by Robert Bruce Stewart

  “And a girl to deliver it?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right then. She is to go alone to Jenning’s Café. It’s on Front Street, near Moore.”

  “Down by Whitehall?”

  “Right. She is to take a table there and await further instructions. And she’s not to be followed.”

  I immediately phoned Ratigan. He said he would have his men down there, ready to follow any red satchels. Next I phoned Tibbitts.

  “They must be planning to use the crowds at the ferry terminal to get away,” he said.

  “I guess that would make sense.”

  “I’m going to bet on it. I’ll put my boys at all the opposite points. When he gets off, we’ll follow him from there.”

  I explained to Emmie how to get to Jenning’s Café.

  “You’ll leave the house first, Emmie. But go up in the car, cross the bridge, and come back down.”

  “Wouldn’t it be quicker to take a ferry, Harry?”

  “Yes, I’ll leave the house after you and take the boat from Hamilton Avenue. That way I should get there before you. But just to make sure, take your time. Try not to get there before eleven. If you see me hovering about, be careful not to look long.”

  “All right, but remember, Alfred will go for the bag as soon as I’m near.”

  She went off and then I left about five minutes later. I had some difficulty waking Alfred when the boat docked, but we were on Whitehall at about 10:45. Ten minutes later I strolled up to Front Street and walked past the café, then waited about a block down. I saw Emmie come up. She was a little early so made a show of losing her direction. Or perhaps she was genuinely lost. Either way, she went into the café just at eleven. About five minutes went by and then a fellow emerged with the red bag. He went down Moore to South Street and then entered a saloon. I positioned myself just north of it. A minute later he emerged, but instead of going south, toward the ferries, he walked right past me. The dog took no notice. Then another fellow emerged, with an identical bag, and he was followed by two more. All with identical bags and each headed in a different direction. But it wasn’t until a fellow emerged from a chandler’s, next door to the saloon, that Alfred took an interest.

  I assumed Ratigan’s men would be following the bags, so I let Alfred lead me after our man down to the ferry landing. We boarded the Jersey Central boat that went over to the depot in Jersey City. Tibbitts would have a man at the other end, but he’d be looking for the red satchel, and making a point of remaining inconspicuous. It was then I realized Emmie was standing beside me.

  “Which is our man, Harry?”

  “He’s at the far side, in a grey jacket.”

  “With the seaman’s cap?”

  “Yes.”

  “They were very clever, weren’t they?”

  “You saw the four bags leave the saloon?”

  “Yes. And then I saw you head to the ferry,” she said. “I suppose now that we have him spotted, Alfred will be more of a hindrance than a help.”

  “It would seem so, but he might come in useful again before this is over.”

  We arrived in time for the express to Philadelphia. Our man got on and we followed. Unfortunately, the conductor found Alfred objectionable and he and I were sent to the baggage car. There was only one stop before Philadelphia, in Elizabeth. I made out a note addressed to Tibbitts, telling him what train we were on and giving him a description of the man we were following. When we arrived in Elizabeth, just at noon, I got off the train with Alfred and handed the message to a cop. Along with a dollar, just to be safe. He wasn’t insulted.

  Then I saw our man, followed by Emmie, getting on another train. I followed. Once more into the baggage car. We were on a local that ran along the Jersey shore. I made out another note to Tibbitts and at Perth Amboy gave it to another cop with another dollar. Alfred spent the next half hour inspecting the contents of the car. At Little Silver, just past Red Bank, I saw Emmie on the platform.

  “He’s just ahead there, Harry.”

  He had left the station and was headed down a quiet road. There was no way for us to follow him without him noticing, so we waited until he was far ahead. Alfred seemed to be following a scent, but every now and again was distracted by some noise in the field beside the road. Eventually, we saw a few buildings ahead, and we seemed to be entering a small village. Alfred led us to a cottage, and then laid down.

  “I hope this means he’s inside, and not simply that Alfred has had a long day,” Emmie said.

  “We need to get help, Emmie. But first let’s get out of sight.”

  We went up and around a corner to a spot where we could watch the cottage without being obvious.

  “Shall I stay and watch, Harry?”

  “No, I’ll wait here with our friend, you see what you can find in the way of law enforcement.”

  I saw Emmie go off and enter a store of some sort, and then cross the street to another building. Then she returned.

  “I telephoned the local police, Harry. But they seemed rather thick-headed.”

  “Are they coming?”

  “Yes. But only after I told them there was a reward. Is there a reward, Harry?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Perhaps they’ll be satisfied in being virtuous.”

  “Yes, perhaps.”

  It was a good hour before they appeared, three men in a wagon. I told the chief about the kidnapping and the possibility there was a wealthy captive. Just then two men emerged from the house. One was the man we’d been following, the other was Charlie Sennett. Alfred ran straight for them and the cops and I followed.

  “Where’s the girl?” I asked.

  “She isn’t here,” Sennett said. “Leave us alone or you’ll never see her.”

  “You tell us where she is, or you’ll never see tomorrow,” the chief said.

  “We never had her,” the other fellow confessed.

  We found the money stuffed in their various pockets. Then we looked through the cottage. But there was no sign of Sally. We all got into the wagon and rode into Red Bank. I wired the news to Tibbitts, Ratigan, and Koestler. But since our prisoners had decided not to talk, there was little to do until Tibbitts showed up about six. He arranged to have the money and suspects turned over to him and then we all headed back to Jersey City on the train—Alfred, myself, and the money he refused to be separated from riding in the baggage car. From the depot, Emmie and I took the ferry back to Brooklyn.

  “Sergeant Tibbitts seemed to think that man was telling the truth,” she said. “That they never kidnapped Sally.”

  “Perhaps Sennett just heard she was missing and thought he’d take a chance. If you hadn’t thought of the dog, Emmie, they would have made it. That was very good.”

  “Thank you, Harry. But we still wasted the entire day.”

  “Well, maybe not. Sennett may know something about Sally.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Would he bother to arrange such an involved scheme if he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be returning? What if she had just turned up at home this morning? All these preparations would have been wasted. And if he was caught, he’d be facing a few years in Sing Sing.”

  “Yes, I see what you mean.”

  “He must have seen it as a one-time chance to clean up and go off to a new life somewhere.”

  It was after nine when we arrived at the Koestlers. I told them what had transpired and asked if they had heard anything on Sally.

  “No, nothing,” Koestler said.

  I set the money on a chair and Alfred jumped up and laid on it. Then Emmie and I went home. First thing the next morning, I went over the bridge to check in with Ratigan.

  “We’ve learned one thing: Sally Koestler was very active socially. Every one of her friends mentioned some other friend, and they all remember her with some other fellow. A few saw her with Sennett. Some remember her with William Huber a while back. Apparently that was pretty serious for a while last fall. But she also was
seen with older men. We’ve started to check with her relatives out of town. Angry girls often run to a friendly aunt.”

  “It’s hard to even picture Sally angry, but that’s an idea.”

  “We also have photographs now and can check the stations, steamship lines, etc. But it would help if we had some idea where she might go.”

  “Apparently she likes the ocean. Sailing particularly. And her stepmother said many of her friends have boats.”

  “All right, that’s something. Anything else?”

  “There is one other thing. Would you be able to find out where Eliza Barclay and her sister are right now?”

  Ratigan looked back at a stack of notes. “The Hohenzollern would have docked in Gibraltar on the 22nd. All right, we can find out.”

  From his office, I went down to the Bureau. Keegan was in, so I briefed him. Then I phoned Tibbitts and mentioned my theory that Sennett might know something of Sally’s whereabouts.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, “that makes sense. The other fellow is Sennett’s brother. He’d been in the green goods game. He just rounded up the boys, that’s why they set it up so fast. I’ll see what I can find out from Sennett.”

  I went home for lunch and told Emmie about Sennett’s brother being in the green goods business.

  “But how is it you’re so well informed on the subject?” I asked her.

  “Oh, one reads about these things.”

  Elizabeth and Mrs. Warner joined us. But I noticed Dorothy wasn’t about.

  “I’m afraid we lost Dorothy, Harry,” Emmie said. “Jim felt the situation untenable.”

  “He was convinced you were deliberately avoiding him,” Elizabeth added.

  “Avoiding large dockworkers who have grievances is a sort of hobby of mine. I’m quite good at it,” I said. “By the way, Elizabeth, do you remember being in the Frauenverein last Friday with Edward Howell?”

  “I wasn’t with Edward Howell. When I came in he was sitting with Sally Koestler. Then Sennett arrived, and not long after, you came in.”

  “Do you mean Howell was there with Sally?” Emmie asked.

  “Well, only that they were sitting together,” Elizabeth said. “At the time, I thought Howell had come looking for me. But I suppose they could have come in together. They did seem to know each other.”

  “Why do you think they knew each other?” I asked.

  “That first night he and I went to the Frauenverein, he knew her name before being introduced. You were there.”

  “I missed that. Was going there your idea or his?”

  “I believe it was his.”

  “And last Friday, did you leave the two of them together?” I asked.

  “Yes, but I thought Sennett had come there with Sally and would be returning.”

  “What is this Frauenverein you talk about?” Mrs. Warner asked.

  “A sort of German Don’t Worry Club,” Emmie told her. “We must take you sometime.”

  “Does Howell have a yacht?” I asked Elizabeth.

  “He said he had some sort of boat he sails. Why?”

  “Apparently Sally has a love of sailing.”

  “I was told Howell was away on some sort of business,” Emmie said.

  “But maybe that’s just what he led them to believe.”

  I telephoned Ratigan and asked that he look for Howell, and find out about his boat.

  “All right, where will you be?”

  “I’m going over to search his apartment,” I said.

  “I’ll send some boys over to help.”

  22

  I hung up and discovered my dutiful wife at my side. We made our way to the Howells’ apartment and Emmie introduced me to Mary, the maid.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Mr. Howell?” Emmie asked.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, we’d like to look around a bit.”

  “All right, ma’am. I was just putting my things together.”

  She left us and I led Emmie to the study I had been taken to on my first visit.

  “What should we look for, Harry?”

  “We’ll know when we find it. If you see anything about his boat, give a holler.”

  There was a large desk and several bookcases. The desk held all sorts of letters, ranging from the personal to the mundane. Then there were files on the family’s finances and various legal matters. In the midst of which, Emmie found one on his boat. It included a description, invoices for docking it, travel itineraries, all we’d need.

  “We should get this to Ratigan,” I said.

  “Oh, wait.” She handed me a page from the folder. “He sold it a year ago.”

  “That doesn’t mean they aren’t on a boat.”

  There was one last drawer and it was locked.

  “Maybe Mary knows where the key is?” I said.

  “I’ll ask her,” Emmie said. She went off to check with the girl and I began going through the shelves, looking for anything behind books or between pages. Emmie came back armed with a claw hammer.

  “I’m afraid Mary has never seen the key,” she said.

  Then she took her weapon and began hacking the front of the desk with her usual determination, but accompanied by a savagery I’d not seen her exhibit previously. I made a mental note not to leave any claw hammers lying about our own apartment. She eventually had the drawer open, but not without significant damage to the desk and the near total destruction of a lamp that had the poor sense to be nearby. The colorful leaded glass of the shade was scattered about and the noise had gotten the better of Mary’s curiosity. She came in and looked at us both.

  “I’m afraid the lamp fell, Mary,” Emmie told her.

  “I’ll just clean it up, ma’am.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t bother about that. You go back to your packing.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The drawer held little, and nothing that seemed worth the devastation Emmie had wrought. When I pointed this out, she said, “It’s his own fault, Harry. If Howell hadn’t misrepresented the contents by locking the drawer, none of this would have happened.”

  We spent the next half hour going through the rest of the apartment and found nothing.

  “It’s odd there are so few photographs,” Emmie said. “Not even a wedding photo of the Howells.”

  “Maybe they don’t look their best in photographs.”

  “Or, more likely, she destroyed them due to his philandering.”

  Not long after, a couple of Ratigan’s operatives showed up. We told them where we had looked already, but they said they’d go over everything again. They seemed surprised when I explained that the destruction in the study was my wife’s work. Then Mary came out with a couple bags and put them by the door.

  “Mary, if you’re looking for a new position, we have a need for a maid,” I said.

  She looked at me quizzically, and then at Emmie.

  “That’s already been arranged, Harry.”

  We went downstairs and I sent the doorman to hire a cab.

  “Mary, when exactly was the last time you saw Mr. Howell?”

  “Monday morning. Just after I gave him the telegram.”

  “What telegram?”

  “The one that arrived Saturday evening.”

  “Why hadn’t he seen it before then?” I asked.

  “It came to Mrs. Howell, so I put it on her dressing table with the other mail waiting for her. But then I thought it might be important and I ought to bring it to Mr. Howell’s attention. But he came in late that night. And I didn’t think of it again until Monday morning. That’s when I brought it to him. He looked at it and said it seemed like they had made a mistake, it wasn’t sent to Mrs. Howell, but from her. Then he left the table and went into his room. I didn’t see him go out.”

  “Did he pack a bag?”

  “I hadn’t noticed then, but I believe he must have. Some of his things seem to be gone.”

  “I don’t suppose you saw what was in the te
legram? Maybe he left it behind?”

  “No, of course I didn’t look at it. I think he put it in his pocket.”

  The cab arrived and Emmie took Mary to her new quarters while I went down to see Ratigan. I told him about the telegram and asked if we could find out anything about it.

  “Probably, they log everything. It’s just a matter of finding the right person to ask.” He made a brief phone call instructing someone to look into it and then a girl came in and handed him a slip of paper. “We’ve heard from London. The two women left there on the 26th for Liverpool.”

  “Liverpool? Why would they go to Liverpool?”

  “Maybe to catch a boat.” He went into another room and came back a minute later. “The Etruria sailed on the 27th for New York by way of Queenstown.”

  “Why would they book a boat to Europe if they didn’t plan on staying even a week?”

  He began reading from the report he’d been handed. “From Paris, they booked a room in London for three weeks. Then, after they arrived there, Mrs. Howell received a message from her husband and said she needed to return home immediately.” He looked up. “At least, that’s what she told the hotel.”

  “I wonder what message he sent her?”

  “Maybe that he was planning to leave with Sally Koestler?”

  “Why would he do that?” I asked. “Besides, it seems like it wasn’t something he’d planned in advance. He got that telegram and skedaddled.”

  “Maybe he was warning his wife about something, and she was responding to that. It must have occurred to you that this isn’t necessarily an elopement. Sally may think that’s what it is, but maybe he sees her as a hostage.”

  “Yes, I had thought of that. But would we even be looking for him if she weren’t missing?”

  “Well, there’s also the chance they see her as a liability. Maybe she knows something.”

  “I make it a habit to put unpleasant thoughts out of my mind,” I confided. Then I handed him Howell’s boat file. “I thought it might offer some clues. He sold the boat, but he could have borrowed or rented one. Apparently he’s sailed up and down the coast several times.”

  “All right, I’ll start on that.”

  I used his telephone to call Tibbitts and told him about Howell.