Haddigan Barbor rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Indigo, Illinois hadn't had this much excitement since the time Jake Green's cow had eaten a bunch of rusty nails and the vet had had to do surgery to remove them. Being the Chief of Police in a small town had its bonuses. His buddies at the police academy had thought him crazy when he decided to take a job in Indigo. "You'll rot in that little town, man!" they told him. But when they were being shot at by drug dealers in Chicago, he was eating fresh apple pie and writing tickets to j-walkers. This was the first time that Indigo could boast of a real crime. Sure, time to time kids would break a few windows or spray paint a wall, but for the most part nothing bad happened in Indigo. Now this professor had to up and disappear.
His door opened suddenly and Deputy Marshall Evers strode into the office tossing a package onto Haddigan's desk. "What's this?" The sheriff asked as he opened the manila envelope.
"Stuff we picked up at the old man's place. Journal, a few receipts – there's nothing much there." Evers casually poured himself a cup of steaming coffee and drank it black.
The chief pulled a spiral notebook from the envelope and opened it to the first page:
"If my experiment is successful this notebook may one day become famous."Haddigan glanced up at Evers who was straightening his tie. "You read any of this, Marshall?"
The man glanced up and smirked. "Just enough to know that our beloved professor was off his rocker. Though he was building a time machine."
Grunting Haddigan set the book aside and dumped a few receipts out of the envelope. "Bootmaker, costume supplier, and what's this one? From a Terrence Clark?"
Evers shrugged and drained the last of his coffee. "They were in the diary. Burns thought we should bring them along. Journal was the only personal thing in the house. The rest was just books." He set his mug on the table and moved to the door. "Gotta get back out on patrol."
"Evers." The handsome, insolent man turned back to his chief. "Marshall, I need you to check up on these receipts. They might be worthwhile." The affronted look on his deputy's face pressed him to say, "Let Smith and Burns handle patrol. You're the best investigator I got. You can sniff out a lead before anybody else knows it's around."
When all else fails appeal to a man's pride. The deputy sauntered to Haddigan's desk and retrieved the receipts, studying each one in turn. "Whata we got so far?"
Haddigan made a frustrated motion with his hand. "Nothing really. Middle-aged professor disappears without a trace. If Agatha Christie's characters were real I'd send for Hercule Poirot. I'm sure he could find the professor!" He chuckled, but Evers had apparently never read Christie and was suffering from a severe case of underdeveloped humor. "All right, Marshall. Ask around. Find out what he bought, when, if he mentioned what he needed it for – " He broke off when he saw he glare Evers was giving him.
"I can handle the questions, thank you!"
Haddigan raised his hands placatingly. "All right, Marshall, all right. You do that then. I'm gonna head out to Foresman's place and have a look around. Wanna get a feel for the guy. See if I can't get inside his head. Radio in if you get any leads."
Evers stomped out of the office, exuding offense. Haddigan sighed and shook his head. And encounter with his deputy was sure to be invigorating at the least. Well, he'd better get to Foresman's before lunch. On his way out he stopped and poured a cup of coffee loaded with sugar. He needed it for the road.