The end result of the police’s verdict to suspend the search had spurred the organization of another large search party later that evening; a last heroic effort. If the police wouldn’t help, ordinary people would try to find the lad. Various church congregations, folks from all over the south end of the city, workers from the mills and other businesses; together they were combing the area again. Peggy can hear Oskar’s name being shouted from blocks away.
Alone on the veranda, Peggy has time to reflect. She knows the police are generally seen as a corrupt lot, and held in low regard in Philadelphia. She reaches for her coffee. Poor Constable Kelly, he is so committed. It’s not his fault the search was called off. As far as her neighbors are concerned, it is just another case of foreigners’ children not being important. Some had said it was about the police looking out for themselves first. Looking out for themselves, why? For what? Had they been asked to look the other way? If so, who would ask such a thing? Who would pay them off? And, more importantly, why? Don’t let it be true that little boys don’t matter in the grand scheme of payoffs and corruption. Little boys do matter. Oskar is lost and he’ll be found.
The fresh air is invigorating; Peggy’s neck and shoulders begin to unknot. She spots a stocky, older gentleman walking slowly, swinging his walking stick. His clothes are old-fashioned; the heavy wool suit, a shirt with a high collar, and a bowler hat securely on his head. Her grandfather wore such a hat, and had the same generous mustache and beard.
There’ve been a lot of strangers in the neighborhood, helping with the search. He must be someone’s older relative making his way home.
With all the tragedy surrounding Oskar’s disappearance, Peggy is comforted by the generous show of support. Everyone has been united in their concern about a missing boy. It appears that not all of Philadelphia has abandoned civility and decency.
The old gentleman nears. Poor fellow. He looks preoccupied. I guess the search didn’t go well.
A rush of gratitude for the stranger; a solitary, weary, old man. Kindness overcomes her.
“Good evening. You look like you’ve had a long day. Have you been out searching?”
The man turns as if Peggy is speaking to someone behind him. Then he stares directly at her.
“Good evening, sir. A long day?” Peggy raises her voice.
The old man continues to stare.
“Sir, any news on young Oskar?” Peggy shouts. Perhaps he is hard of hearing? Or maybe he doesn’t understand English? Peggy leans over the veranda railing and speaks louder and slower.
“I said, any news on the boy?”
“Um, are you addressing me, madam?”
Daft, as well as deaf. Peggy regrets extending her newly discovered neighborliness. Tonight is not the night for anything difficult.
The man rests against his walking stick. “Yes. I was out searching. Alas, no luck. It appears the boy has vanished.”
“You heard that the police have called off the search?”
“But justice will prevail, madam, it always does.”
“I wish I had your certainty. It looks pretty bleak right now.”
“Fear not, my dear. It’s too early to give up hope. I was just contemplating the similarities between this case and one I worked on years ago. We were victorious then, and will be again. Back then, a girl and her two brothers went missing. They’d been abducted. It was over a year before the villain was brought to justice. ‘Victory belongs to the most persevering’, you know.”
“Ah, so you’re a policeman?”
He tips his hat in Peggy's direction. “Inspector Frank Geyer with the Philadelphia Police. Although I admit to being retired for some time now.” He rubs his chin. "It seems, however, that I've been called back into active service.”
“And thank goodness you have been. Now that the regular force has walked away, we’re going to need your seniority and experience,” says Peggy.
Inspector Geyer doffs his hat again. “Excuse me madam, but I’m afraid I may have to temper your expectations. I'm at a bit of a disadvantage in this case. Usually, I would interview the family and others that may have known the boy, but I have been unable to do so. Do you happen to know him? Would you mind if I spoke to you about this?”
“Well, you’d better come in then. My boy, Tommy, is a good friend of Oskar’s, and I know the Leszek family well,” she says. A stretch, but I am part of the neighborhood now.
Peggy settles the Inspector in the living room, and tells him she’ll check if the coffee from supper is still warm.
“Milk and sugar?” She places the cup on the side table beside Inspector Geyer. He looks ill at ease. Surely, before retirement, he’d been in people’s homes for interviews? Maybe a jealous wife at home? Nervous around women?
Before she sits, she extends her hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Mrs. Barnes.” The gentleman shrinks back against the cushions of the chair, away from her hand. Peggy doesn’t know what to do with her empty, outstretched hand, so she pats her hair. What an odd duck. Maybe I was too forward. In his generation, were handshakes only between men?
“Charmed, madam. As I mentioned outside, I'm Inspector Geyer. Frank Geyer." He pauses as if awaiting recognition. "Retired from the Philadelphia police.”
“So you said. It’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s good to know that the police have not totally abandoned the search for Oskar. I must admit that I’m quite put out with the police right now. It could have been my son that went missing; and to think that they give up so easily. It doesn’t fill one with confidence.”
“A missing child leaves a hole in the community, does it not? I too am mystified by the announcement. In my day, we wouldn’t have abandoned the case so quickly. In truth, in the past I have been relentless in police efforts to return lost innocents to their families. I have something of a reputation for it.”
“I am relieved to hear that, Inspector Geyer. It goes a way to restoring my faith in the police to think that they have brought you in.”
“I am glad to be of service on this matter, madam. As I mentioned, I’ve been retired for some time. Perhaps the rationale for my involvement now stems from my reputation for pursuing criminals that harm children. I expect to be able to use my expertise in this case.”
“Goodness then, do you think Oskar’s been taken? Harmed?”
“I think that the police are misguided in their belief that Oskar has run off. And I’m mystified as to why they would have leapt to that conclusion, especially without a thorough investigation. In my experience, the number of young boys who run away to join the circus is seriously exaggerated. No, I‘m inclined to believe that something sinister may have happened to Oskar. If injured, he would have been found by now.”
“Though I don’t want it to be true, I must admit I am actually relieved to hear you say that, because that’s what I’ve been thinking. But when I tried to talk to Constable Kelly about it, he brushed away my concerns as those of an emotional mother.”
“Constable Kelly?”
“One of my lodgers. He’s also a policeman. He should be home shortly.”
“Oh, excuse me. You run a boarding house?” the Inspector says, looking around the room more closely.
“Certainly not. I take in lodgers. They’re all good gentlemen. Quiet and well mannered.”
“You’re not concerned with how it might look? A young woman with a houseful of men?” he asks, with a slight frown. “This is very different than in my day. I mean my own wife was a widow when she opened… I mean, in my day women were much older when they opened boarding houses.”
“Well, times are changing Inspector, and we have to change with them. These are the twenties, after all. There are many young women who earn their own keep. They, I mean we, are an independent bunch, making our own decisions and managing our own lives.”
I shouldn’t be so sensitive, but he shouldn’t be so judgemental. He sounds like Mother. After the day I’ve had, I should never have invited him i
n. Except it was to help Oskar, of course. It’s too late to ask him to leave. And rude. I can be polite, but that doesn’t mean I have to be welcoming.
“Of course,” says the Inspector. “Forgive me. I forget these are different times.”
“Perhaps you could share some of the case details, Inspector. I’m afraid that the police haven’t told Mrs. Leszek much.”
“From what I can fathom, Mrs. Barnes, young Oskar went out after supper last Tuesday, allegedly to study for a math test with friends, and never returned. So it’s been over a week. No one has seen or heard from him since. Which isn’t possible. People, especially small boys, don’t disappear into thin air. Certainly, someone knows something. They just aren’t saying anything. Their silence could be attributed to any number of reasons. What puzzles me is the shoddiness of the police search efforts. I haven’t seen the police even circulate a photograph. We’ve just been looking for a young, fair-haired boy. And there are a large number of those in Philadelphia.”
“I knew the police weren’t making an effort,” Peggy says. “What should they be doing, Inspector?”
“I would have expected them to confirm his activities the night he disappeared, canvassed his friends and family, circulated a picture, and put the photograph in the newspapers. Perhaps even contacted other communities’ police forces. Police work involves pursuing many lines of inquiry to find the one thread that leads you to a successful resolution.”
“I knew it. They have totally dropped the ball. And it’s poor Oskar that pays the price.”
“I agree. It appears they have been negligent, although I wouldn’t want to pass judgement on an active police investigation.”
“Not that active, apparently.”
“Sometimes, these matters take a long time to resolve. On a similar case, the one I had mentioned earlier, the children had been abducted for nefarious purposes. Mr. Holms, their kidnapper, took them from Philadelphia. They traveled through Chicago, and all the way to Toronto in Canada, before he was apprehended. Unfortunately, by the time we found him he had murdered the children.”
“Oh, how dreadful. Surely you don’t suspect something like that has happened to Oskar?”
“I sincerely hope not. Mr. Holms was a very disturbed individual. He enjoyed outsmarting the police. The alienist, the doctor that dealt in psychiatric disorders that examined him, described him as a psychopath. I, on the other hand, tended to agree with the newspapers’ description and just thought of him as a monster. I was dogged in my determination to bring him to justice. I didn’t abandon the case, even though initially we had very few leads.” Inspector Geyer relaxes into the chair, folds his hands over his vest—a portrait of satisfaction at being able to recount his tale—just as Joe Kelly pops his head around the doorway.
“Good evening Mrs. Barnes. My apologies for once again missing dinner.”
“That’s all right, Constable. I’ve put your supper on a plate in the stove to keep warm.”
“I hope you weren’t waiting up for me, Mrs. Barnes.”
“Not at all, Constable. I've been talking with Inspector Geyer about Oskar, and his efforts to continue the search.” She looks expectantly at the old man who sits very still in the chair. He has a hopeful, eager look as he stares intently at the young policeman.
Joe follows her eyes and spies the cup of coffee on the table. “Oh lovely, a cup of coffee. Have you poured it for me, Mrs. Barnes? Do you mind if I carry it into the kitchen while I eat my supper? It's been a long day and I'm famished.” He grabs the drink and heads toward the kitchen.
Inspector Geyer stares after Joe, a deflated expression on his face.
Peggy's mouth falls open. “I'm so sorry, Inspector. I'm not sure what's got into him. Constable Kelly is never rude like that. Please, let me get you another cup.”
In the kitchen, Peggy advances upon the unsuspecting and hungry police officer. “Constable Kelly, just now you were unbelievably rude to my guest, who is also a fellow officer.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Barnes. I’m not sure I follow.”
“In the living room. You took his coffee.”
“I’m so sorry Mrs. Barnes. I’ll go and apologize immediately. I’m not sure how I missed him, although it’s been a long day and I’m quite exhausted.”
By the time Peggy has poured another cup of coffee for the Inspector, Joe returns to the kitchen. “I’m sorry Mrs. Barnes, but your guest seems to have left. I hope it wasn’t on account of me. Can you give me his address? I’ll go after him.”
“I don’t know his address. I just met him. He was telling me the most interesting things about a case he had worked on, and what he thinks may have happened to Oskar. No matter, you might as well have this last cup. I’ll go and clean up.”
In the living room, Inspector Geyer still occupies the chair. “Inspector, my goodness, you startled me. Constable Kelly had said that you left.”
“My apologies again, Mrs. Barnes. Perhaps Constable Kelly failed to see me sitting here.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s it. He did mention that he is exhausted. Let me go and figure out your coffee.”
“No need, Mrs. Barnes. I’m just fine without.”
“You were telling me about your efforts to locate Oskar.”
“Yes, I’ve been attempting to canvas various hotels, train stations, and real estate offices. The man who abducted the children in my former case checked into numerous hotels and leased accommodations to cover his trail. He claimed to be the children’s uncle. It was the way he was able to hide in plain sight, so to speak.”
“That’s fascinating and horrifying. Any leads with Oskar’s case?”
“None, I’m afraid. I’m having rather a difficult time of it. I’m finding it challenging to converse with the proprietors.”
Joe Kelly pokes his head around the corner again. “Um, excuse me Mrs. Barnes, I’ll go upstairs now. Thank you for a delicious dinner, and for keeping it warm for me. And, I did want to check, um… Is everything all right, ma’am? I heard you speaking. Were you talking to me?”
“No, I was talking with the Inspector.”
Joe looks around the living room, confused. “Oh, right then. It’s been a stressful time. Perhaps you should get some rest as well,” says Joe.
“Constable Kelly, really, this is just beyond the pale. My apologies again, Inspector, but the Constable’s exhaustion is no excuse for rude behavior. Perhaps you should take yourself upstairs if you are too tired for good manners, Constable Kelly.”
“Um, yes. Yes, Mrs. Barnes. Perhaps that’s best. Good night.”
“How very strange. I really don’t know what’s gotten into the young man.”
“No apologies necessary, madam. No one knows better than I how mentally fatiguing police work can be.” The Inspector rises, picks up his hat and walking stick, and offers a small bow. "With your permission, I too will depart. I have enjoyed our conversation and your kindness at letting an old man ramble. Perhaps we could resume our conversation tomorrow, and I could follow up with you regarding young Oskar?”
“Certainly, Inspector,” says Peggy, walking him to the door. “Anything I can do to help. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”
Chapter 12
Peggy can see the uneasiness in Joe as he stands by the sink with his coat on, quickly gulping his morning coffee. He’s shouldering some of the blame for the search cancellation, even though he’s equally confused by the investigation being closed.
Finding out yesterday that the police were going to stop their search for Oskar had been rough. The official decision hung over the neighborhood and over the Barnes’ household like a shroud. Oskar was being abandoned.
“Joe, do you have a moment? I met the most interesting man last night. The fellow I had mentioned to you? A retired police Inspector. He’s been brought in to assist with Oskar’s disappearance.”
“No, I don’t think so, Mrs. Barnes. We don’t use those retired war horses that way. Once they’re out to pasture, they s
tay out. He may be bored and wanting to be back in the traces, but certainly he’s not acting in an official capacity,” Joe says.
“Isn’t that curious. I could swear he told me otherwise. He’s coming back ‘round later today to discuss the case with me. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“I don’t see any harm. As long as you realize that the official investigation has been closed.”
“Yes, how could I forget? You police are all so busy with the bootleggers, you’ve no time for little boys.”
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