Act One, Part Two

Roughly an hour later they were out on the sidewalk again. It had taken five minutes to learn that there had been no noteworthy crimes in the past couple of days, solved or unsolved. That final five minutes of their sojourn in the police station had been preceded by nearly an hour of Chief of Police Chesterton haranguing West over the altercation the night before until that worthy officer of local law enforcement had come nigh to popping a blood vessel in his temple and had finally withdrawn to his office, leaving an underling to deal with the federal agents. It was the junior officer who had confirmed to them what they'd already heard from the editor of the paper: nothing big, nothing of note, nothing at all. But…

"Yes?"

The young policeman glanced around furtively, then leaned very close and whispered, "But everyone's buzzing about what you did to that knucklehead Sgt Flaherty last night."

Jim and Artie's eyes met. "Oh?"

"Yep," the young man nodded. "And everyone's pleased as punch to have Flaherty taken down a couple of notches. Well, nearly everyone," and he cut his eyes toward Chief Chesterton's office. "They say," he added, and now he leaned still closer, his voice all but disappearing, "that Flaherty only got this job because his papa knows the mayor."

"Oh!" Artie nodded and winked conspiratorially. "Well, glad to be of service, eh, Jim?"

Jim smiled as they made their good-byes and left the building.

"And that… was a pleasant experience," opined Artie. "Something ventured, yet nothing gained. Except, of course, for the loss of yet another hour out of our lives." He dusted an imaginary speck off his hat, then donned it.

"Oh now, it wasn't a total waste of time," Jim replied.

"It wasn't?"

"No."

"You sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure, Artie. We now know a lot more things that didn't happen."

Artie gave a snort. "Oh, how comforting! But we're still not an inch closer to figuring out what happened to you, Jim!" He turned to glare at his partner, then saw the teasing look on Jim's face. "And consarn it, Jim, if you're trying to make me laugh, it isn't working!"

"Nope. Not trying to make you laugh. Trying to make you mad."

"I don't need you to do that, Jim! That… that…" He waved his hand at the building they'd just left. "That fellow who needs to cut holes in his police chief's hat to let his long ears stick through already did that!"

Jim cut his eyes at Artie. "Hmm. Are you saying the man's a mule?"

"What? No, of course not!" Artie paused, then dropped his voice to add, "No, more like the mule's, ah, papa…"

Jim cracked a small smile. "That's what I thought."

The agents retrieved their horses and mounted up again. "So now what?" Artie asked.

"Let's go back to our first plan and retrace my steps from Tuesday."

"Fair enough," said Artie. And with a mischievous smile, he started off first heading back the way they'd come, leading Jim instead of letting Jim lead him.

After a while Artie reined up and dismounted, and Jim followed suit. They left their horses at the hitching rail and went into a small dark shop.

"Tobacconist."

"Mm-hmm."

The shopkeeper came out of a curtained area in the back, smiled at his customers, then took a second glance and positively beamed. "Ah, Mr Gordon! I see you found him! I'm so glad!" The little man came forward and shook hands with each of the agents, saying, "I do hope you're all right, Mr West?"

"Yes, I am, Mr Bradbury, thank you." Jim cast a glance Artie's way. "So you managed to track me this far, hmm?"

Artie grinned in reply.

"Oh yes!" said Bradbury. "When Mr Gordon came by yesterday, I told him you had stopped in on Tuesday to purchase a half-dozen of your favorite cigarillos. The last I saw of you was when you paused just outside the door as you were leaving to light one up. But then another customer came in - you held the door for him - and after that I was busy and didn't notice what became of you." And to Artie he added, "I do hope I was of help to you in your search!"

"You can be of more help," Jim responded. "Did you happen to notice if anyone was following me or paid any special attention to me during or after my visit?"

"Oh no, I didn't. I'm sorry, but I had that other customer to wait on and didn't see anything else." His smile faded for a moment, then came right back again. "But the important part is that you're back and you're safe." He grinned as he added, "You know, I'd just hate to lose one of my best customers!"

"I bet he says that to all his customers," Artie murmured with a chuckle after they stepped back outside into the sunshine. "So. Where'd you go from here?"

"You didn't track me any further?"

Artie shook his head. "No. I no sooner got back outside when young Clancy came along walking his beat. Once I'd asked him if he knew anything about your disappearance… well, that got the entire police force involved and I never got to look any further."

"Ah, I see. Well, I mounted Blackjack again," and he suited action to the words, "and moved on down the street."

Artie mounted up as well and they rode along again until they reached a nearby corner, where Jim reined up. "You see something?" Artie asked.

"Not now, no, but when I came through here yest… I mean, the day before yesterday, I saw a woman down that alley. She was falling off - if you can believe it - a penny-farthing."

"What? Why, I've never even heard of a woman riding one of those! Her skirts should make it impossible for her to sit astride on it - not to mention, all that cloth would be certain to get tangled in the spokes of the huge front wheel!"

"Well, as I said, she was falling when I spotted her. I jumped from Blackjack and ran to help her up. Her hands were scuffed, but other than that she seemed fine. I offered to see her to a doctor and when she refused that, I…" and Jim's eyes sparkled mischievously, "…offered instead to take her to lunch at Luigi's."

"Oh, now that's the James West I know, all right!" Artie exclaimed. "And the young lovely's name?"

"You're assuming she was young. And lovely."

"Yes. Well, again - I know you!"

"In fact, she did fit both descriptions. And I'll go ahead and give you a full description, since she was still with me for as much of the rest of the day as I can remember."

"All right," said Artie and pulled out a notepad and pencil. "Fire away."

"Light-to-medium brunette hair. Widow's peak. Hazel eyes, very large, with thick lashes. Face, somewhere between oval and heart-shaped, with a slight cleft in her chin, dimple in the right cheek, beauty spot on the left. Medium height, medium build. Very charming, very intelligent."

"And her name?"

"Diana Jones."

Artie finished writing and stowed the pad and pencil into his pocket again. "So you took her to Luigi's?"

"Yes." They remounted and headed that way.

"Now," Jim added, "as she and I went there, she never attempted to ride the penny-farthing again. At first she pushed it, which wasn't an easy task all on its own and all the more awkward for her considering she was also carrying a parasol. But once I offered to push the bicycle for her, I don't recall her ever touching the vehicle again."

"So you weren't on horseback."

"No. I was pushing the velocipede and Blackjack…" Jim frowned.

"Yes?"

Jim was silent a bit longer, then said, "Blackjack walked along behind me till we reached Luigi's. I remember wrapping his reins around the hitching post there. After that, Miss Jones and I walked to the theater. And then when I came out of the theater and didn't see him, I whistled for Blackjack and he came trotting down the street to me. It's just that…"

"Still saddled?" asked Artie.

"Yes, he had all his tack on him." Jim reached out and patted the big black horse's neck. "Poor guy! You got stuck with staying fully dressed all day! And I wonder where you went?"

"He must have been hungry," Artie commented.

"Hmm. Perhaps he found some place like the city park and helped himself to the grass," Jim replied. A cold fury was growing in his eyes. "Well, now I'm even angrier with our unknown villain. Not only did he steal all those hours from me, but he caused me to neglect my horse!"

Artie shook his head in sympathy, knowing that Jim would never willingly mistreat his animal so. "Yes, that's just unforgivable," he said.