What Goes Around, Comes Around Part 2-3 - Jail and Investigation
* * *
Donald found a place where he could watch the police station and started staking it out. He considered cutting the phone lines but, in the end, just watched the police station from his hiding place. He saw two other police officers come and go from the station during the day. There was no sign of Sgt. Fetz.
He also saw that there were bars on the windows of the building. He crept around the back and found two barred windows without glass. They proved to be the cells and he was able to talk to Silversmith and Hutz.
“Manfred!” Silversmith said. “Get me some booze!”
He had seen no sign of a fuse box on the outside of the building. The small back door, which probably opened into the hallway with the cells, was locked.
“As a lawyer, I assure you that whatever you do to save a doctor like myself is legal,” Hutz told him.
Donald looked at the man, somewhat confused. Hutz’s mustache had partially come loose from his face and was hanging askew. He heard someone yelling from some other part of the building.
“You gotta get me some moon juice!” Silversmith said.
“I don’t think I could fit it between the bars,” Donald said.
“Just a cup!”
“Just a cup?”
“Steal it from the hotel!”
“Steal it from the hotel?”
“And carry it to the police station where it’s illegal to have alcohol.”
“Yeah. For your buddy, eh? A fellow Canadian, eh?”
“What’s up cowboy?” Hutz said.
Donald looked at him.
“Your name’s Manfred, right?” Hutz went on.
“Yes,” Donald said.
“You rescued us yet?”
“You can’t hear it, but I think that other guy’s being interrogated right now.”
“How long has he been gone?”
“I don’t know. Five minutes? Twelve hours? Something like that.”
“Wow, that’s a big jump.”
“One of those two. Six hours is my guess.”
“Do they watch your cell?”
“I haven’t checked.”
“Have you noticed if any of the police officers have the key?”
“There are only two of them. I don’t think they care. It’s probably sitting on the desk in the office.”
He looked at the free man.
“Manfred, I need to change disguises,” he said. “Can you get me some cowboy clothes?”
Donald left, returning to the hotel and watching it for a few hours. However, he saw no sign of any police.
Then he returned to the police station. He hid his vest and his hat behind a few garbage cans in an alley. He picked a time when both of the other two police officers left the police station. Then he walked across the street and entered the big double doors.
He found himself in the office where Bryan had his altercation with Fetz the day before. There were three desks, several filing cabinets, and a locked gun rack with two shotguns and two rifles inside. No one was in the room. A door led to the back, where the cells were. He found the desk that Fetz had been writing at the day before. He thought he heard yelling from somewhere back in the building beyond the door. He tried that door and found it unlocked so he peeked in. There was a hallway with two barred cells to his right. To his left was a closed door that the yelling was coming from. It sounded like someone angrily shouting. He guessed it was Fetz.
A moment later, Silversmith and Hutz appeared at the bars of the furthest cell to the right.
“Manfred!” Hutz hissed.
“What?” Donald replied.
“Did you bring your cowboy gear?”
“No, I left it outside.”
“Slip them through the bars.”
“Check their desk for whiskey!” Silversmith hissed.
“Check their desk for whiskey,” Donald said. “Do you have any idea where the keys might be?”
“No,” Silversmith said.
“Check for whiskey first,” Hutz hissed.
“Probably near the whiskey,” Silversmith said. “You find the whiskey, you find the keys.”
Donald went over and looked at the keyhole. It was a flat, long hole, much different from regular keys. He learned from the others that there was no opening on the inside of the cell.
“There’s no way in except for dynamite,” Donald said.
“Or the keys!” Silversmith replied.
Donald went back to the front office, leaving the door open so he could hear if Fetz came out. He looked out through the double doors. He saw no sign of either of the two officers. Then he started looking through the desks for keys. He found nothing of interest. There was no whiskey in them either. He found a few .45 revolver bullets so he pocketed them.
Every time Fetz stopped yelling, he stopped moving until he heard the police officer start to yell or talk again.
Where do they keep their keys? Donald thought. They’ve got locks everywhere.
He left the police station and was afraid to return to the hotel room so he continued to wander around town.
* * *
Bryan and Dr. Polichev took the afternoon train to Nashua and were able to find the county coroner’s office. The coroner, Farley Fenstermocker, was in but when they asked about seeing the records of Professor Carlson’s remains, he told them they would need a court order or paperwork from Carlson’s lawyer.
Bryan suggested that, as three of their number had been arrested, they spend the night in Nashua instead of returning to Charing Cross.
“The police don’t know anything about me,” she said.
“No, but they do know about me,” Bryan replied.
They decided that Dr. Polichev would return to Charing Cross while Bryan got a hotel room in Nashua.
* * *
As the others started to return to the hotel, Donald stopped each of them and warned them that probably shouldn’t stay there very long. They all ended up having dinner with there. McKeefe thought it a good idea to change hotels and told Miss Holland. He said he heard that the police might be coming back for more of them as well.
“Really?” she said.
She had noticed other hotels in the town and told him she thought it was a good idea.
“Maybe it would be best if a few of us split off to make it harder for them to find all of us,” McKeefe said.
“Since we’re kind of sitting ducks here,” Miss Holland said.
Before they left, Miss Holland shared the information that they’d learned at the college.
“We found some information about Hardy Carlson,” she said. “Who is the other person murdered in the exact same way some years before.”
They pointed out that Carlson’s legs had been missing.
“Killed in a very weird and gross way,” she said.
“When was this, exactly?” Dr. Polichev asked.
They looked at the article and found the date: April 11, 1921.
“He was killed in his office, I guess,” Miss Holland went on. “We talked to Velma Valentine, who was the department secretary. She told us to go ask Josiah Black if he knew anything.”
“Josiah Black?” Dr. Polichev said.
“Yeah,” Miss Holland said. “So, we were planning on doing that tomorrow, I guess. But, right now, since people got arrested from here, we’re probably not going to stay here anymore and maybe check ourselves into another hotel under different names.”
“Pseudonyms,” McKeefe said.
“John and me,” she went on. “And anyone else who thinks that’s a good idea.”
“Do you guys want to try to save them?” Donald said. “I have an idea.”
“What, like try to stage a jailbreak?” McKeefe said
“What’s your idea?” Miss Holland said.
“Remember how Fetz and one other person came to arrest them last night?” Donald said. “What if they attempted to do that two nights in a row? We can stake out the police department, which I have been doing all day and I noticed that they leave quite a bit of the department open and you can just go back right to the bars. We can break them out while they leave to try to arrest us?”
“Hmmm,” Miss Holland said.
“What would we use to try to get into the cells?” Dr. Polichev asked.
“Dynamite,” Donald replied.
That was a bit shocking.
Dr. Polichev noted that it was a small town and even with assumed names, the people of the town might notice them check in and could give them away.
“What do you think about renting a house?” she asked. “To where there won’t be records of phone calls or our coming and going.”
“Do we have the money for that?” Miss Holland asked.
“Would be able to rent a house in that short a time?” Babydoll asked.
“They would probably think that was suspicious,” McKeefe said. “They’d probably wonder about a whole big group of people renting out a house.”
“I’m well-to-do and I can go say that it is for me and my manservant … um … my friend,” Dr. Polichev said. “I could say I prefer luxury and I wanted a large house.”
She also shared the newspaper article they’d found.
“Indeed there was a disappearance−” she started to say.
“So that’s a no on the rescue mission?” Donald said.
“What?” Dr. Polichev asked.
“So that’s a no on the rescue mission?”
“This would be better to discuss in a house and not in public. Also, all we have is dynamite?”
“We don’t have any dynamite.”
She waved him off and told them of the newspaper article they had found about the disappearance of a boy on May 12, 1922. She noted that was near where the hobo had gone missing. She pointed out that it had not been in the evening, unlike the others. They discussed it and wondered about that one taking place during the day.
Miss Luckey noted that that, according to Nelson she learned that Professor Carlson’s legs had been missing. They discussed the missing body parts as opposed to completely missing people. It also seemed like everything happened at night or near night.
“So all of them are related to the park except for the professor,” Donald said.
“It could be vampires,” McKeefe said.
Dr. Polichev also noted that she had heard there had not been enough blood on the scene of the woman’s death to account for it all. She speculated that the body must have been moved there post-mortem. There was also some talk of the fact that though there was a lot of blood around Carlson in the photo, the classroom was not in disarray.
“One more thing you should know is that I found out about this police raid where they set a religious building on fire,” Miss Holland said. “Because it sounds kind of ritual-esque. This disappearance and murders sound ritualistic in nature, don’t they?”
She explained that the police set fire to a building, or so they’d heard at the college. She was unsure exactly why and noted it had happened back in 1919. She said it involved religion. Carlson had built a house on that piece of property. Josiah Black was Carlson’s lawyer. Bertelli recognized the name Smith and Black on one of the buildings as he’d been walking around town that day.
“Speaking of …” Bertelli said. “I saw Smith and Black, so it might be the same Black.”
After dinner, Miss Holland McKeefe left the hotel to find another. Donald decided he was going to sleep in the park.
* * *
Babydoll, thinking she was completely safe, took a walk in the park after dark.
* * *
When Fetz brought Dr. Huxtable back to his cell around 7 p.m., they found Silversmith on the floor in the fetal position, shaking. He had the DTs pretty badly from not having a drink all day. He didn’t get any sympathy from Fetz.
Dr. Huxtable fell onto the cot in the room, stinking of urine and in a foul mood. Fetz had Nelson bring them food and water before they left for the night, turning off the lights in the police station and locking the place up.
“He’s insane,” Dr. Huxtable said with no trace of a British accent. When he next spoke, it was with the British accent once again. “He’s insane!”
He seemed very shaken. He looked completely deflated.
Hutz sat next to the man and imitated him as best he could.
“Did you notice if he had any whiskey on him or anything like that?” Silversmith said. “Mr. Huxtable?”
Silversmith kept rubbing his arms and Dr. Huxtable noticed that his hands were shaking. He blinked quickly.
“Manfred! Where are you with my booze!” Silversmith cried out.
* * *
Donald had forsaken sleeping in the park to watch the police station again. After 9 p.m., Fetz and the other police officers left the building, locking the front doors behind them. He watched until morning.
* * *
It was around 7 a.m. the next day on Saturday, August 1, 1925, when Fetz and the police returned. This time Fetz took Silversmith into the interrogation room and began to grill him, much as he had grilled Dr. Huxtable the day before. He was asked about certain dates that didn’t seem special or significant to him.
“You need a drink, buddy?” Fetz said at one point, having noticed Silversmith’s shaking hands. “You need a drink? We’ve got some. You can have a drink.”
“Yeah?” Silversmith said.
“Yeah,” Fetz said. “We just need you to … you know. We know you did it. Just tell us that you did it and we can get you a good stiff drink.”
“I didn’t do jack!”
“What about your friends? We know that British guy, we know he’s into something, isn’t he?”
“We didn’t do jack!”
Silversmith continued to look down and wouldn’t admit to anything, despite the terrible interrogation.
* * *
After the others met that morning, Miss Holland, Babydoll, McKeefe, and Bertelli went to Mr. Black’s office. The office was in the second floor of the building and they saw what appeared to be a dentist’s office on the ground floor. An occasional shriek of pain emanated from the floor below.
They were able to talk to Black’s secretary. The name on her desk read Dora Walker.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Mr. Black is not in the office right now.”
She looked them over.
“Would you like to make … an appointment?” she asked. “I can make one if you’d like.”
“Yes,” Miss Holland said.
Dora looked through a date book.
“I can give you a 10 o’clock on Monday morning,” she said.
They tried to get sometime sooner but Doris was not able to make an exception.
“I’m sorry, that’s the earliest he’s free,” Doris said.
They took their leave of Black’s office.
They headed for the Charing Cross Trumpet office to see if they could learn any more about the house that was burned down in 1919.
* * *
Dr. Polichev looked in a telephone book but found no Carlson. She guessed that Professor Carlson might not have had a wife. She found the Offices of Smith and Black and talked to Dora Walker who asked if the young woman had an appointment for Mr. Black.
“Yes,” Dr. Polichev said.
“What is your name?” Dora looked down at the appointment book.
“I don’t have an appointment,” Dr. Polichev confessed.
Dora frowned and told her that Mr. Black did not have any available time until the week after next.
“Is there another lawyer?” Dr. Polichev said.
“Mr. Smith,” Dora said. “I thought you wanted to see Mr. Black.”
“I want to see a lawyer.”
“Well, what kind of case are you needing a lawyer for, miss?”
“I need to request documents for someone else’s lawyer … because they are no longer living.”
“Mr. Black handles civil law. Mr. Smith handles criminal cases. Does it involve a criminal case?”
“I can make you an appointment for Mr. Smith for Monday, if you like. He’s not available right now. He’s busy.”
“Would you be able to check and see something for me, maybe? As his secretary.”
“No ma’am, I’m sorry. I cannot release any information of Mr. Smith or Mr. Black.”
Dr. Polichev made an appointment for 10 a.m. Monday morning.
* * *
Miss Luckey went looking for Officer Nelson again. Instead, she found Bryan. They discussed looking in the newspaper morgue to see if anything strange happened in March of 1920. Bryan decided to go look for things on that date.
* * *
Miss Holland and McKeefe had gone to the newspaper morgue. Bryan soon arrived, having returned from Nashua and wanting to find out if anything happened in 1920. In the meantime, Miss Holland found an article from the Trumpet for the week of November 1, 1919. It read:
Police Battle Armed Cult
Police from Charing Cross and towns throughout the county converged upon a midnight
ceremony last evening, resulting in a pitched gun battle that ended with the deaths of all
11 members of a strange religious sect apparently calling itself the Keepers of the Primal
Song. Police, many of whom seemed visibly shaken by the incident, then burnt down the
abandoned farmhouse at which the sect had been meeting just outside of town on the
North Farm Road. This fire is the apparent source of the strange purplish smoke noticed
by town residents this morning. One officer, later identified by this reporter as Howard
Fetz, was hospitalized for treatment. Several other officers were treated for injuries and
Miss Holland found it interesting that were 11 members of the cult. She would have thought that a group like that would have had 13 members. What happened to the other two men? She mentioned that to McKeefe.
“Are you sure you’re not just bringing up those old stories you heard in your college dorm room at night, all in your pajamas, having your little pillow fights?” he said.
“Hey!” she replied. “I’m pretty versed in this occult stuff.”
Bryan did not find anything unusual in the Spring, Summer, or fall of 1920, 1919 (aside from the article about the cult that Miss Holland had found) , or 1918 from January through September. It seemed that the strangeness started in 1921 with Carlson. He noted that pattern before he left the office.
* * *
Bertelli got a ticket to Nashua and rode the train to the county seat. He found the records office and started to look for information on Hardy Carlson, trying to find out what piece of property he owned. Though it took him the better part of the day, he got a plat map of Carlson’s property and the address of his house on North Farm Road.
* * *
Bryan also got a train to Nashua. He wanted to look up the census records for Charing Cross. He found very little of interest or use in that. However, he did locate a pile of old telephone directories for various towns in the county. Looking through the Charing Cross books, he found that the 1919 directory had a listing for a Nils Carlsen. The address was the same as the entry for Hardy Carlson in 1920. He found that very strange.
* * *
Miss Luckey found Officer Nelson. She flirted with the man a little and tried to learn what she could about the house and found out that it was too dangerous to be allowed to let it stand. She also asked about what happened to police evidence and learned that it was kept in the warehouse. She couldn’t get any more information on the location, however, without sounding suspicious. She did learn that the house that was burnt down in 1919 was on North Farm Road.
* * *
Miss Holland and Mr. McKeefe found Babydoll and Miss Holland told her the theory that there were two cult members missing. Miss Holland wondered if Carlson had been a member of the cult as well. Babydoll wondered if Mrs. McCorkindale might not also have been a member. Babydoll asked if perhaps they were trying to revive the cult.
“But what about the little boy?” McKeefe asked.
“The little boy and the hobo?” Miss Holland said. “Sacrifices for later?”
“They could be sacrifices,” Babydoll said.
She guessed that the disappearances were sacrifices by the cult while the two deaths were the police trying to get rid of the remaining cult members. Miss Holland noted that the cult tried to kill Howard Fetz as well, noting that he was hospitalized for his injuries.
“He was hospitalized for the haze,” McKeefe said.
“What do you mean?” Miss Holland said.
“Well, he breathed in a whole lot of purple haze that came out of there,” McKeefe said.
“It didn’t say that,” Babydoll said.
“Nope,” Miss Holland asserted.
“Oh, it didn’t?” McKeefe said.
“It says ‘for treatment,’” Miss Holland said.
“‘Hospitalized for treatment,’” Babydoll said.
“‘Several other officers were treated for injuries and later released,’” Miss Holland read. “So … the officers could be trying to get revenge on the cult.”
“And there were two members left,” Babydoll said.
“The last members,” Miss Holland said.
“By doing it in these weird ways like taking them apart?” McKeefe said.
That stopped them cold.
“That we don’t know,” Miss Holland said.
“There could be a third one,” Babydoll said. “Remember what you said: three and 13.”
“Yes, three and 13,” Miss Holland said, recognizing the occult numbers of power.
“They might try to get another person,” Babydoll said.
“The hobo and the child went missing,” Miss Holland said, looking at the various newspaper clippings they’d gathered.
“I think we need to talk to the lawyer,” Babydoll said. “So we can get the lawyer to give us the paperwork to go down to the morgue.”
“I want to get to the house,” Miss Holland said. “I want to investigate the house.”
They talked about going out to the house but realized they didn’t have a vehicle to get there and didn’t know how far out of town the house was. They decided to look around for a place to rent a car but didn’t find one anywhere.
* * *
Dr. Polichev went to the only realtor in town, trying to rent a house. She did not have much luck as there were really no rentals in Charing Cross. The man suggested she try in Petersboro, which was a larger town. He also noted that if she was looking to buy an inexpensive house, Mr. Black, the lawyer, had a house he was trying to sell. He told her to use his name and even gave her his card, bidding her to tell Mr. Black that he’d sent her.
* * *
Manfred Donald had followed a police officer around town but the man didn’t seem to do anything suspicious. He simply walked the beat and didn’t even break the laws in little ways that police officers usually did - getting free apples from the market or the like. They seemed completely aboveboard.
* * *
Miss Holland, McKeefe, Miss Luckey, Dr. Polichev, Manfred Donald, and Babydoll all met for lunch at one of the diners downtown. They were unsure where the rest of their band was, though Babydoll knew that her grandfather had gone to the county seat to try to locate where Carlson’s house was. They exchanged information on where they thought the house was and Miss Holland confessed that she wanted to examine the house.
Babydoll looked at Manfred Donald.
“Have you slept?” she asked the man.
He shook his head.
“Why?” she said.
“I’ve been up all night staking the police department out,” he replied. “They are very unsuspicious. Incredibly unsuspicious. Fetz is pretty much … yesterday he was interrogating someone all day. I haven’t seen him today, so he might be doing the same thing to others.”
Dr. Polichev noted that they didn’t rent houses in the town, at least not through the only realtor she could find. However, if they wanted to buy, the way to get it cheap and quick was a house that was part of an estate sale on North Farm Road.
“Yes!” Babydoll said.
“You want to share something?” Dr. Polichev said.
“We need to go there,” Babydoll said.
“Yeah, we need to go there, because that’s where the burned down building was,” Miss Luckey said.
“At least I want to go there,” Miss Holland said.
“Well do you think it was actually burned down or …” Dr. Polichev said.
“It was rebuilt,” Babydoll said.
“It was rebuilt.”
“They rebuilt it. We could go see if it’s for sale.”
“I know the lawyer’s name who’s trying to sell it: Mr. Black.”
They talked about buying the house from Mr. Black and there was talk of getting a car and driving out to North Farm Road. Dr. Polichev said she could go to Nashua to rent a car.
They talked about the number of members in a cult and Miss Holland pointed out that significant numbers were what were important: seven, 13, three. When someone asked if there could be two remaining cult members, she said that there was a theory that when the police shut down the cult, only 11 members were found dead.
“So, we were thinking that the two remaining members got away, since 13 is a significant number,” she said. “Two remaining members got away and it could be the two people that were found brutally murdered.”
“There were more than two,” Donald said.
They pointed out that two disappeared and two were murdered.
“What about the lawyers?” Donald said. “Black and Smith? Couldn’t they be the two?”
“It seems unlikely,” Miss Luckey said.
“If the police were onto the cult already …” Miss Holland said.
“It seems like cult-related murders, though,” Donald said.
“Yeah,” Miss Luckey replied.
“That’s true,” Miss Holland said.
Donald had put down his sandwich and when he reached for it, it was gone. He looked down at his plate and then looked up at the others. When he looked down at the plate, the sandwich was there again.
“Are you okay?” Babydoll said.
“Are you all right?” Miss Holland said. “Maybe you should nap.”
“Doesn’t that look like a tasty sandwich?” McKeefe said.
Donald pushed the plate away.
They talked about the police who were injured in the 1919 raid and Miss Luckey pointed out that Howard Fetz was hospitalized while the others were simply treated.
“Maybe Fetz was closer to the explosion or the smoke or something,” she said. “Maybe he was a cult member.”
“It could be that he’s trying to get revenge on the cult,” Miss Holland said.
“He could be the cult leader,” Babydoll said.
She pointed out that the statements he made about the deaths were very similar. Miss Holland noted that it was at the location of Hardy Carlson’s house and Babydoll said that perhaps Hardy Carlson was the cult leader. When Miss Luckey found out that Hardy had gone to the Middle East, she really wanted to look at his papers as they were, perhaps, in Arabic and she spoke Arabic.
“I’ve been staking out the police department and the officers for a day,” Donald pointed out.
“Ever seen them go to the evidence place?” Miss Luckey asked.
“No, I saw them walk around the town,” he said. “Same patrols all day. I checked their desks and found nothing except some bullets which I took.”
There was some discussion about finding the evidence warehouse. They also wanted to try to find Hardy Carlson’s house but no one knew the address on North Farm Road. There were some thoughts of looking for the lawyer, Black, though they did not know what he looked like.
* * *
Babydoll returned to the offices of the Charing Cross Trumpet to look for any photographs of Josiah Black. She looked until the offices closed around 5 p.m. but did not find his face in any of the newspapers, though she did find a few local stories about the lawyer, especially his representing people in various civil lawsuits in the county.
* * *
Miss Luckey and Donald looked around the town for the warehouse that the police used. They had little luck though they did see several unmarked buildings that could have been used as warehouses.
* * *