Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book 14

by Robert P McAuley

  “We’ll trade you a diamond if you let us leave.”

  “Why would a policeman make a deal with a crook?”

  “Because I wrote a letter detailing how you and Doctor Stamis work together. How you search through a new patient’s clothes and take their money and jewelry and how you often send Doctor Stamis patients which he kills to sell to art schools and hospitals so they can work on real bodies rather than models.”

  After a few moments silence Doyle replied, “Hogwash! You have no proof of that. You’re bluffing.”

  “The letter is in a milk bottle on the front porch of a prominent news editor. When he goes to get his milk he’ll find it. For one diamond and the address you allow us to go.”

  “Not that I admit it, but make that three diamonds and the address and it’s a deal.”

  John whispered to Bill, “I just don’t trust this guy, Bill. He wants them all and no witnesses.”

  “I know. But what else can we do?”

  “Hey!” called out the crooked cop, “Is it a deal or not? My men will be coming up those stairs very soon and then the game is up for you.”

  “For you too, Doyle. It’ll be daybreak soon and that man will have some interesting reading for breakfast this morning.”

  “Okay, okay. All three of you step out with your hands up.”

  He watched as Bill, John and Rocky stepped out of the doorway with their hands up. As they approached the balloon he grinned and climbed out of the basket. “Where’s the diamonds?”

  “In my pocket,” said Bill.

  “First make a hole in the snow down to the roof. Then place the diamonds in it and back away.”

  Bill made the hole and placed three diamonds in it and the three backed away. Doyle came forwarded and bent down and picked them up. His eyes squinted and his crooked smile returned as he looked at them.

  “Now, where is that letter?”

  “I’ll tell you once we’re in the basket.”

  “You know what? First of all I don’t believe that you had time to write a letter and then place it in a milk bottle of a newspaperman who just happened to live on the route you took. That and the fact that I want the rest of the diamonds and that’s the deal. Give me the diamonds and be gone with you.”

  Bill reluctantly made another hole in the snow with his foot and placed the rest of the diamonds in it before backing away. Doyle rushed to the spot and picked them up. Once again the crooked grin crossed his face as he said, “Now I must get rid of the terrible plague of criminals that have operated freely against the Brooklyn City Police Department. Goodb . . .!” A hard wet snowball slapped him square in the back of his head and in a second Bill had him in his grips as Rocky grabbed his gun. The look on his face was one of shock as his arm was twisted behind his back.

  “Start the fire,” Bill said to John who grabbed a bag of coal and climbed into the basket next to Matt who stood shaking his hand.

  “Sir,” he said, “that snow is rather cold.”

  “Sure glad that you had a good arm, Matt.”

  “Years of cricket, sir. Good practice indeed.”

  They tied Doyle with a piece of rope cut from the balloon.

  Bill kneeled down and went through the man’s pockets. He came out with the diamonds and over one hundred dollars and said, “I doubt that you’ll be needing these diamonds or the money you took from us. And just to let you know you were right when you said I didn’t have time to write that letter, but now I do and I’ll make sure it’s delivered to all of the city’s newspapers.”

  The lieutenant couldn’t help but wonder where the rest of the police were and then remembered that he didn’t want them around when he killed these men and took their diamonds. He watched as the flames grew inside of the basket until the balloon was now almost upright.

  “Come on guys,” said John. “She’s going to lift off any minute now so get aboard.”

  “Let me get that last bag of coal,” said Rocky as he headed towards the last bag near the door. He suddenly stopped, ran back and did a head dive into the basket just missing the fire in the pan. “Go, go, there’s cops coming up the stairs.”

  John cut two sandbags and the balloon hesitated a moment as policemen burst out onto the roof.

  “Shoot them! Shoot them!” Cried Doyle as he tried to get free.

  The police stood still for a second as many had never even seen a balloon before and were transfixed. Finally one shot at the large target over the basket.

  Doyle was furious, “Not the balloon you idiots, the basket. Shoot the men in the basket.”

  Hearing the crooked cop’s words John cut another sandbag loose and the balloon disappeared straight up into the dark sky.

  The four men held tight to the ropes as the wind buffeted the balloon. After ten minutes John said, “Hate to say this but I need to go lower and see where the heck we are.” He pulled the rope, which opened the flap at the top of the balloon and bled off some hot air. They all watched for the first sign of the ground and Rocky called out, “Church steeple straight ahead.”

  John had to let another sandbag go and they rose again.

  “Did anyone recognize the church?” he asked.

  “Not sure,” said Rocky. “It might be the church on Seventh Avenue in what we now call Park Slope.”

  “I’m not familiar with that section. If that’s it, which way to the ferry?”

  Rocky shrugged and answered, “If that’s the church I think it is, we need to go more west. Down in the section that is now known as Cobble Hill. That’s the direction to the East River.”

  “Well,” said John, “we need to get lower and see if we can spot the river. Once across that we can land anywhere and take a cab home.” Once again he dumped hot air and once again a church steeple appeared out of the dark. John quickly cut another sandbag loose and they rose above it.

  “That’s why they call Brooklyn The City of Churches,” said Rocky.

  As they rose John said, “Well we have a problem.”

  “What’s that?” asked Bill.

  “I just cut the last sandbag loose. If we need to climb again we won’t be able to.” He slowly let more hot air out so they could get a better view of where they were.

  Rocky called out, “Hey. It’s Cobble Hill. I recognize Union Street where my grandmother shopped for olive oil. I know where we are and if I’m right we are in the middle of three tall churches so maybe it’s better if we stay low and sort of float around them.”

  They all stretched their necks to look out for the three steeples as they glided with the wind just above the rooftops. Suddenly a downdraft hit them and the basket bounced off of the snow covered cobblestone street and back into the air only to come down again. But this time a black carriage appeared out of the darkness and the basket hit it with such force that it was knocked into a tree and its wheel came off. They saw a figure thrown into the snow and the balloon settled in the middle of the street.

  “We have to put the last bag of coal on the fire guys. It’ll be enough to get us across the water.”

  “Wait, John,” said Bill as they saw a man struggling to get up. “Let me see if he’s all right.”

  “Only one of us can get out,” said John, “or the lighter balloon will rise and fly away with the others.”

  The balloon started to sag slightly as the air in it cooled rapidly and Bill ran over to the man.

  “Hello, are you all right, sir?”

  The slim gray haired man with a small white mustache seemed dazed as he answered, “Wh-What happened? Are you an aeronaut sir?”

  “Sort of. I’m afraid the wheel has come off of your carriage. Are you close to home?”

  “No. And I’m on my way to deliver a baby.”

  “You’re a doctor?”

  “Y-Yes. My-my bag is inside my carriage.”

  “Wait, I’ll get it for you.”

  Bill entered the carriage and retrieved the doctor’s bag.

  “Can I get you a cab?”

&
nbsp; “I doubt that there are any cabs about this evening.”

  “How far is the place you are going?”

  “Too far to walk sir, and they are truly counting on my being there.”

  “Let me help you to the balloon. I wish to ask a colleague of mine a question.” He helped the man through the snow over to the balloon.

  “Guys, the doctor has to deliver a baby.” He turned to the doctor and said, “Doctor, please tell this gentleman where you wish to go,” he said as he pointed to Rocky.

  “Are you familiar with the area sir?”

  “Yes,” answered Rocky. “Where are you headed?”

  “426 Henry Street. I’ve been there many times before and it is too far to walk especially in this snow.”

  “Rocky,” asked John, “do you know where it is?”

  “Sure,” said Rocky as he pointed, “about ten blocks that way.”

  John looked at Bill as Bill looked back and both men shrugged their shoulders.

  “Doctor, would you allow us to fly you there?”

  “Thank you, but no, sir. Mrs. Jerome will have to allow her mid-wife to attend to her.”

  “Sir,” asked Matt. “today’s date is January 9th is it not?”

  The man nodded, “It is sir.”

  “Then I must insist that you accompany us.”

  The men all looked at Matt and as the doctor was about to resist Bill lifted the man up and over into the basket. “Sorry doctor, but if Matt is insistent on you going with us then with us you shall go.”

  “B-But the height. I have a fear of height”

  “Sorry. Close your eyes and enjoy the flight.”

  “Last bag of coal gents,” said John as he put it on the low fire. The balloon rose sluggishly and once again was taken by the wind.

  “Well,” said Rocky as they skimmed low over houses, “at least we are heading in the right direction.”

  After a few moments the doctor stood from his crouched position and looked about. “Lord! It is so quiet! Why one can hear the dogs barking in the yards below.”

  It was a swift ride at low altitude and the time travelers kept their fingers crossed that they didn’t meet something they would have to rise up over.

  “There it is!” called out the doctor as he pointed down at a long block that had about fifty apartment houses on each side of the street. “That’s the house.”

  “Okay,” said John as he dumped hot air, “Here we go. Hold on, this is a fast descent.”

  Once again the basket bounced twice before stopping in a mound of piled snow.

  Bill helped the man out and passed him his doctor’s bag. “Sorry that you had to be urged to fly with us doctor.”

  The man was grinning as he answered, “My, but that was exhilarating! Perhaps one day that will be the mode of transportation for doctors!”

  With the doctor’s weight gone the lighter balloon started to rise again. They rose above the roof of the home the doctor entered and was caught in a wind that took them towards the Brooklyn docks.

  “Bill,” asked John, “do you think the police will be watching out for us on the New York side?”

  “Naw!” he answered as he shook his head. “Brooklyn is still a city separate from New York City and the Brooklyn police would never let their rivals know that they lost four diamond thieves.”

  The trip across the East River was easy as the wind was blowing their way and the falling snow masked them from anyone looking up. They were using their last bag of coal and were getting lower as they approached lower New York. The fire went out about twenty blocks from the 1800 Club and John sat the balloon down in a small park near Broadway.

  “You were a beautiful lady,” John said as he caressed the settling balloon.

  Snowstorm or no snowstorm, New Yorkers were out in it playing, having snowball fights, some skiing around while lovers walked hand and hand. Soon there was a small crowd around the balloon and like typical New Yorkers they just shrugged it off as the four men climbed out and walked away.

  Two blocks away they flagged down a cab and in fifteen minutes they were in the club’s garden. Bill opened his Time Frequency Modulator and entered his password, SAMSON followed by JANUARY 12, 2016, 5:00 P.M. then opened the security door and they entered the stairwell as Bill pressed the activate button.

  DATELINE: JANUARY 12, 2016 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  It took longer than usual for the four tired, wet, time travelers to go up the stairs. Finally at their landing Bill’s beagle, Samson could be heard sniffing and pawing at the other side of the door as he knew they were home. Bill opened the door and Samson almost leaped into his arms. “Hey Samson, bet you’re hungry.”

  “I’ll feed him sir,” said Matt as they entered Bill’s den.

  “No way, Matt,” Bill said, “you sit on that couch and relax. Besides you have a story or two to tell us.”

  They could tell that Matt was tired as he didn’t try to change Bill’s mind and sat on the plush couch as Bill filled the dog’s bowl. Bill next went out into the hallway and after entering three guest bedrooms returned to the den and tossed a bathrobe to the three men and said, “You guys take a hot shower and put on those robes while I make us a batch of scrambled eggs and bacon.”

  “With coffee?” asked John as he rose from one of the easy chairs.

  “Yep! I make a great cup of coffee as long as it’s instant. See you guys here in thirty minutes.”

  Matt, John and Rocky went to the three guest rooms and showered as Bill worked in the kitchen. Thirty-minutes later the four tired men sat in the alcove attacking the food. Finished, they retired to Bill’s den for brandy and a cigar in front of the roaring fireplace.

  “Time travel is great,” said Bill, “but coming home is fantastic!” He looked over at Matt and said, “So Matt. Tell us what happened. All we know that Doctor Stamis sends his ambulances out to find patients to bring back to his ‘hospital’ and you were one of them.”

  Matt nodded. “Yes, I was one of the fortunate ones who survived thanks to you three gentlemen. The blast knocked me out and I awoke in his hospital thinking that it was a standard hospital. The so-called doctor and his assistant were in the room when I woke and . . . ”

  . . . Brooklyn Mental Hospital

  “Ahhh, Mister Worthington. You are awake. Good. I am Doctor Stamis.”

  Matt tried to sit up but the assistant gently pressed him back down. “Am I all right? I do feel a slight headache but nothing else.”

  “Do you have any relatives that will be looking for you? If so give me their name and address and I shall alert them as to your location.”

  Matt slowly shook his head, “No. I have nobody.”

  The doctor nodded to his assistant who offered Matt a white liquid in a glass.

  “Drink this, Mister Worthington,” said the doctor, “it will rejuvenate you in no time.”

  Matt drank the liquid and lay back. “How soon before I . . . I . . .” He lay still trying to understand what was happening to him. He tried to raise his hand and it didn’t respond.

  “Relax Mister Worthington,” said the doctor in a soothing tone of voice, “you’ll be as good as new shortly.” They left the room. Matt tried to sit up but couldn’t. In fact the only thing he could do was look up at the white tin ceiling.

  Matt continues . . . “The doctor’s assistant gave me the same liquid every two hours and I was helpless to stop the liquid from going down. I was astonished to hear them going through my possessions as though I wasn’t even there. That was when I realized that they wished me harm. When you three gentlemen arrived I realized that you too were taken in by the doctor’s story. I was confident that the liquid caused the paralysis but as I said I was powerless to reject it. I tried to signal you by blinking in Morse code and was sure that you had not understood me. Then when that crooked policeman came and demanded to look through my clothing I understood that this was a big operation and I would soon be dead.”

  “Except,” said
Bill, “that Rocky later realized that you were blinking SOS and that’s when we knew we had to go back and get you.”

  “So,” asked John as he flicked an ash, “tell us about that snowball you threw at the cop. I mean didn’t he see you in the basket?”

  Matt flexed his hand and answered, “When you three went down the stairs to the basement, I lay down and put the covers over myself to keep warm. I heard the door open an inch at a time and peeked over the lip of the basket and finally saw someone exiting the doorway in a crouched position with a pistol in his hand. I recognized the man as the crooked policeman that you taped down in my bed and quickly got under the blankets again. I figured that the last time he saw me I was paralyzed so I’ll try it again to allow him to believe that he had just three men to worry about.”

  “And it worked!” said a grinning Rocky. “That snowball shocked the heck out of him and that was all Bill needed to spring forward and grab the creep.”

  Rocky asked, “Hey, Bill. Why don’t you write a letter to the newspapers of 1854 detailing Doctor Stamis and Lieutenant Doyle’s killings? They should be put away for a long time.”

  Bill shrugged, “Can’t do it. You see they already did those killings and we aren’t in the history changing business, we are in the ‘keep history on track’ business. I’d love to expose them but the History Trackers say it could turn out worse for everyone if we start changing history.“

  “Hey, Bill,” said John. “I have a request. Can we send Thaddeus Lowe some money to purchase another balloon? I mean he made such an impact on the Civil War with his Balloon Corp. that if he doesn’t recover from our taking his balloon that would change history.”

  “Yes. According to the history books he actually saved lives by shortening the war so why don’t you write something up and we’ll stick some cash in an envelope and mail it to him.”

  Rocky laughed, “Who’s going back to 1854 to mail that letter?”

  “Believe me,” answered Bill, “I’ll go back in disguise, walk quickly to the Manhattan Post Office, mail it and return home right away.”

  Bill poured another round of brandy and said as he took his seat and addressed Matt. “And now my friend tell us about the doctor who rode with us to deliver a baby. What was that about?”