Hollow Blood (Sleepy Hollow Horrors, Book 1)

by Austin Dragon

  The older man laughed and the younger one smiled.

  "Funny. No, we're doing some investigating of some potential crimes."

  "Are you lawmen?"

  "We are in a way."

  "Marshals?"

  "No, I was a lawman a long time ago. My son here plans to be. Let's just say I'm helping out a sheriff friend of ours. If I could speak to a person in authority, I would explain everything in full."

  "Seems that you two are quite a ways from any kind of jurisdiction."

  "We're citizens, not lawmen. We're just helping a lawman."

  "Hmm." Berg stood there thinking.

  "What work do you do in town?"

  "I'm the undertaker. I take you under when its time."

  The two men laughed again.

  "Then we don't want to know you," the older man said.

  "What are you investigating exactly? You said potential crimes."

  "Yes, but I'd like to talk to someone in authority first. I know if it were my town, I wouldn't like it a bit if strangers were poking around."

  Berg nodded. "I appreciate that consideration."

  "You're welcome."

  Berg was now more open to helping them, but he had to be sure. "But why here, mister?"

  "Not here. We're passing though to get to Sleepy Hollow."

  Berg was suspicious again.

  "Why would you need to go to Sleepy Hollow?"

  "That is the adjacent town? We were told it was only about two miles away."

  "It is, but why go there? Tarry Town is the main town. Sleepy Hollow is where our locals live. Visitors have no cause to be there unless invited."

  "We're looking for someone."

  Berg thought to himself, I knew it. That Julian Crane had caused trouble in other places too and people are out looking for him.

  "Is that someone you're looking for called Julian Crane?"

  The older man answered back, "No. Who's that?"

  The local church had a small community room for ad-hoc meetings, and the two men felt more comfortable discussing their business. Berg arrived with two town elders, Koning and Boer, who wanted to find out what the two strangers wanted before going further.

  "Morning gentleman, my name's Allan and this is my eldest son Allen junior," the man said as he shook their hands. "Thanks for interrupting your day to see me."

  "What can we do for you, sir?" Koning asked.

  "Do you know a man named Damian Marshal?"

  "I do. He's the marshal for our region."

  The man glanced at his son for a moment.

  "Why?" Koning asked. "Is there a problem?"

  "I'm going to ask one question, and it's important you answer it truthfully so I know how to proceed with my words. My intent is not to ruffle anyone's feathers, but you'll soon learn why we came all this way. Have any of you noticed anything strange about your marshal?"

  The Elders looked at each, confused.

  "That's a thing to ask," Boer said. "Strange about the marshal? No, not at all."

  "Mr. Berg said you didn't know a Julian Crane, but this is precisely the type of outrageous things he was saying when he came to town."

  "About the marshal?"

  "No. About other upstanding citizen of our community."

  "Oh, well as I said before we don't know a Julian Crane, and I don't care to know him."

  "Pa," the younger man said to get the older man's attention.

  He looked at his son and saw him pointing to Berg. They looked to him.

  "What about you, sir?" Allen asked.

  The Elders looked at him, too, and it was clear to all of them that he knew something.

  "Don't get excited," Berg said. "Not me, but Hans has always had bad feelings towards him and...."

  "And what?" Koning asked.

  "So does Mr. Van Brunt."

  The Elders were surprised.

  "Mr. Van Brunt, too?"

  Berg nodded.

  "We were told that the people of Sleepy Hollow would be able to tell us everything about this marshal, and it seems that it's true. Can we speak with these two men?"

  "First, you tell us what this is about."

  "Sir, my son and I are from down south in Tennessee. Our lawman couldn't make the trip so he sent us instead. We know for certain that one man who was with this marshal of yours disappeared and has never been seen again, and we have reason to believe that one or more other men may have also fallen to foul play at the hands of this marshal. We have no proof, but we need to speak with him just the same."

  "You think he has something to do with three disappearances?"

  "Yes, we do."

  "Why are you so certain about one of the men?"

  "Because I was there. The man is my best friend and my son's godfather. He was distressed over losing touch with his eldest daughter, and this marshal showed up and said he knew exactly where she was and he'd personally take him to her. Three months after they left, we all found out that the daughter had died giving birth to her first child and her husband died from fever, which is why he couldn't reach them. All this happened five years ago. The marshal never did see them as he claimed, so where did he take my son's godfather, and why hasn't he ever come back?"

  The look on the faces of the three men made Allen stop talking, and made his son stand from his chair.

  "What did I say?" Allen asked.

  One of the town elders turned to the others. "I think we better get Mr. De Graaf."

  De Graaf stood at the main desk opposite the innkeeper.

  "Did you notice anything?"

  "Notice anything, Mr. De Graaf? No. They just rode out of town side-by-side. What should I have noticed?"

  "Never mind." De Graaf turned. Now it wasn't just the two strangers, Berg and two elders. The lobby had filled up with other businesspeople.

  "Please, everyone go about your business."

  "What's happening, Mr. De Graaf? Is there more trouble coming into town?" a man asked.

  "No, nothing." He gestured for the two strangers to follow him outside.

  "Can we come, Mr. De Graaf?" Berg asked.

  "I'd prefer not," he answered.

  "But my wagon is already hitched up. I can take you out to Van Ripper's place right away."

  De Graaf considered his offer. "Okay, wait out back, and we'll come out after I'm done speaking with these two gentlemen."

  Berg smiled and walked out the main door ahead of them.

  De Graaf hurried the other two men along outside and then across the street to his barrister office. It was a small one-room building but well maintained and suitable for his purposes. He unlocked the door and once the men were in, closed it. Through the windows, he could already see people on the streets watching them.

  "Gentlemen, have a seat anywhere."

  "We can stand."

  "Yes, but I think I will sit."

  De Graaf walked to his main desk and collapsed in the large chair.

  "Is everything you told us so far the truth?" he asked bluntly.

  "It is, sir," Allen answered.

  "In your mind, what do you think happened to your friend? You can tell me."

  "I believe your marshal killed him and the other two men that we know of."

  De Graaf was sickened by the implications. "My God, the man's been in my home more times than I can count. Why would he do that? He's been a marshal in these parts for over six years, no, seven years. Why? What motive could he possibly have?"

  "My job is just to find him, sir. Motive for murder is not my business."

  "Are you authorized to apprehend a U.S. Marshal?"

  "I am not, but my son and I will defend ourselves, and we would like to have that authority to hold him, or have the town designate an authority to hold him until another marshal arrives, or until we can send for my sheriff."

  "You live in these parts and every day is nice and quiet and then all of this happens," De Graaf said aloud to himself. "You'll have the town's authority to hold him if only to allo
w him the opportunity to clear his name, but...I must accompany you on your investigation every step of the way. We had another party here before acting on his own, and it led to eight men being beaten nearly to death and strung from a tree. We barely averted an all-out shoot-out in our streets. I can't stand gunplay."

  "That's why we sought you out, sir. We'll abide by the town's wishes."

  "I appreciate how you have conducted yourselves in our town. I wish more people were as courteous. We'll go out to Hans Van Ripper's place first and then out to Mr. Van Brunt."

  "That's satisfactory to us," Allen said.

  "May we ask a question?" Allen Junior asked.

  "Yes, certainly."

  "Why did everyone behave so strangely when we told them the circumstances of your marshal when we last saw my godfather?"

  "Because it is exactly the circumstances that occurred a few days ago, only instead of your godfather, it was a man named Julian Crane."

  "It doesn't sound like he's too popular here," Allen said.

  "He isn't, but he doesn't deserve to be murdered."

  "If the circumstances are similar, who was the person the marshal said he saw but was dead?" Allen asked.

  "Julian Crane's uncle, Ichabod Crane, our local schoolmaster. Ten years ago."

  "Who killed his uncle?" Allen junior asked.

  De Graaf stood from his chair. "I think we should get to Hans Van Ripper's place right away."

  Hans Van Ripper stood outside his cabin chopping wood. This time he was doing it not just for something to do but also for when it got colder. His body would not budge out of bed to go anywhere near outside then, so he needed a big supply of firewood. When the chill was in the air, it was not unusual for him to keep the fireplace going all day and all night long.

  He heard the noises on the hill and looked up to see a group of riders. He immediately noticed De Graaf from his stove top hat, but he had never seen the two men with him before.

  "Hello Hans," De Graaf called out.

  Van Ripper stopped and waited for the men to get closer. The two men looked to be father and son.

  "Hello," Van Ripper said with an annoyed voice. "Who's with you?"

  "This is Mister Allen senior and Allen junior," De Graaf answered. "Up from the Tennessee area. Can we talk inside for a moment? It's important."

  Hans turned and carried his ax through the door. The men followed him into the cabin. Hans leaned the ax in the corner.

  "I don't have much to eat in here, and I can't offer much in the way of drink either."

  "That's not necessary, Hans. We don't have time for that," De Graaf said impatiently.

  "Thanks anyway, sir," the older man said.

  Hans was able to appreciate the man's manners even if he had none to reciprocate.

  "You all can have a seat," he said to them.

  De Graaf led the two men to a couple of chairs and he sat on the desk. Hans grabbed a small stool.

  "What's so important?" Hans asked.

  "Hans, we were told in town that you have some kind of issue with the Marshal."

  "Who said that?"

  "Hans, please tell us what the issue is you have with the Marshal?" De Graaf asked. "Why don't you care for him?"

  "I have no issue with the Marshal, and there's no law that says I have to like everyone."

  The three other men looked at one another and realized that Hans was not going to be forthcoming.

  "Maybe I should explain," Allen senior said.

  As he recounted his story as he done for Berg, the elders, and De Graaf before, Hans' face changed from indifference to concern and then to fear.

  "You don't need to tell me anymore." He looked at De Graaf and asked, "What do you intend to do? Julian Crane is out with him now."

  "There's not much we can do. We don't know where exactly they headed so it would be impossible to trace them."

  Hans stood up from his chair and paced the floor. "We better not lose another Crane in this world."

  "Hans, tell us what you know about the Marshal." De Graaf asked again.

  "I don't know anything. One day, years ago, I think he was only the marshal for a year or two, I came up on him in my wagon, and he was along the side of the road burying something."

  The men perked up.

  "What was it?" De Graaf asked.

  "Bloody clothes."

  "Whose?" De Graaf asked.

  "I don't know that. How would I know that?"

  "Why didn't you tell someone?"

  "Tell someone what? I came back later and nothing was there. I knew if I had said anything he would deny it or have some excuse about it, and I had no proof. Everyone loved our good marshal, but after that, I never trusted him, never allowed myself to be alone with him, and never let him in my house without other people around."

  The younger Allen shook his head. "You all had suspicions and did nothing?"

  Hans stopped pacing and looked at him. "Do what? Everybody acts suspiciously at one time or another. Lord knows I do, but it don't mean a thing. If it were more or other people too, but it was just me. Nobody was going to listen to me and take my suspicions over a lawman that had people singing his praises from up and down the Hudson. Nobody."

  "There is one other person," De Graaf revealed.

  "Who?"

  "Mr. Van Brunt."

  Hans was shocked. "Brom Bones? What happened between Brom Bones and the Marshal? I never heard that. How do you know?"

  "Berg told us, but we don't know the particulars."

  "I never heard that before. I wonder for how long? I wonder if anyone else knows something."

  "If there is anyone else, by now they'll be coming forward. The word is probably everywhere by now, here and in town."

  "Sir, I hope none of your people try to be heroes," the older Allen added.

  "Oh, no, Mr. Allen. The Marshal shows up and the whole town will find us." He turned to Van Ripper again. "Hans, is there anything else? Anything else he did or said?"

  "No. But I think he knew I was always watching him so he was extra careful."

  "Do you have any questions?" De Graaf asked the Allens.

  "No, that's it. We can go to this Van Brunt now."

  "I'm coming, too," Hans announced.

  "You don't need to, Hans." De Graaf stood up from the desk.

  "I'm coming. I want to know what we're going to do about this."

  "We only have suspicions," De Graaf said.

  "I'm coming too and that's final."

  Diedrich Knickerbocker arrived at the Van Brunt estate early in the morning. He came in on a rather small horse for the man. As requested, Jansen took him to see Dutch and his men who were all back to work despite their still visually bruised and cut faces, in addition to their other healing wounds.

  "What do you want to see us for?" Dutch asked.

  "I wanted to see how you were all recovering."

  "We're recovering."

  "Good. That's all. I'm here to see your boss."

  "Why?"

  "It's nothing. I won't be here long at all. Just a few words and I'll be gone again."

  Diedrich attempted to smile and turned to leave the man alone.

  "Knickerbocker," Dutch called out.

  He turned around. "Yes?"

  "Thanks for checking in on us."

  Diedrich had a genuine smile on his face. "You're welcome, Mr. Dutch."

  Mr. Jansen and Ms. De Paul escorted Knickerbocker to the sitting room where both Brom Bones and Old Man Van Tassel were standing, waiting. Van Tassel had a "favorite" pipe and Brom was smoking a cigar.

  Suddenly a door burst open and young Peter ran in. He looked at Knickerbocker with a toy rifle in his arms.

  "Hi, Mr. Knickerbocker."

  "Good morning, Peter. What's that in your hands?"

  "It's my rifle. I take it with me everywhere now so if that bad man comes 'round again to hurt my father, I'll get 'em."

  "Your father is lucky to have a son like you to protect him."r />
  "Peter, go and play outside," Brom said to him.

  "Come on Peter." Mrs. De Paul reached out her hand as she walked to him. Peter took it and she walked him out of the room.

  "How can we help you, Mr. Knickerbocker?" Katrina asked as she strolled into the room to join her husband and father.

  "Oh, good. You're all here now."

  Knickerbocker held his hat in his hands rather than give it to any of the servants. He nervously looked down to the ground trying to get up enough courage to talk.

  "Well, you see, I wanted to wait until everything calmed down a bit. And I wanted Dutch and your other men to be up and around again."

  "Diedrich, out with it," Brom directed. "What can we do for you?"

  "I'm here to apologize, Mr. Van Brunt."

  "Apologize?" Brom asked. "About what?"

  "About Julian Crane."

  The name still elicited strong negative feelings from the Van Brunts.

  "What about Julian Crane?" Brom asked.

  "I'm the one responsible for him getting the idea in his head that you had something to do with his uncle's death."

  "You?" Katrina asked.

  "Yes. I guess I opened up my mouth to the wrong people and somehow he found out about me, and he sent me a letter by post. We corresponded, and I, well, perhaps I should have been more cautious about what I wrote. I never imagined he was any kind of marshal or that he was going to come here and do what he did. I...possibly embellished my story too much, and he took it for the gospel truth. Yes, it was all my fault."

  "What did you tell him exactly?" Katrina asked.

  Brom was visibly nervous. "He doesn't have to get into all that. It's not important at this point. He's gone. He's going to see his uncle, supposedly, and we'll never see him again. No need for Mr. Knickerbocker to bring up the past."

  His wife looked at her husband suspiciously. Brom looked back at Knickerbocker.

  "Diedrich, thank you for telling us. We do appreciate it. Everyone makes mistakes. I'll forget about it, if you do."

  "Oh yes, Mr. Van Brunt. I'll forget all about it right now."

  "Good, then it's forgotten."

  "Thanks, Mr. Van Brunt."

  Knickerbocker was smiling and returned his hat to his head. Then realizing, took it off his head again.

  "Jansen, you can show Diedrich to his horse," Brom said.

  "Yes sir. Thanks, Mr. Van Brunt, Mrs. Van Brunt, Mr. Van Tassel."