Chapter 11 – Truth is Stranger than fiction

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"Comfy there, Johnny?" Lori patted the top of the man's head as she knelt next to him.

"To Hell with you," the man yelled, tugging at his wrists. The clank of metal sounded and he twisted, trying to see behind him. "I'll get away, you just watch me!"

"Well then I guess we will watch you, Johnny," Jim said. He walked in front of the man, whom he had chained to a post in the center of the stable car, and looked down at him, his hands relaxing on his hips. Artie stood nearby, in the side doorway, watching. "You are under arrest by the Secret Service for assault and kidnapping. You will ride in this spot all the way back to Washington. We can all take turns spending time with you so you don't get lonely. It's going to be a long ride back but it will be even longer if you cause us trouble." He knelt in front of the bound man as John glared sullenly at the floor. "So, tell me the story John. Lori told me her side of it but she's a crazy female," he paused to wink at the blond as she grinned back at him, "So why don't you tell me what really happened? Or should I add other charges such as not cooperating?"

"Well, see," John said, trying to think as he talked, "my father was being harassed by the police in Washington. Uniformed men were watching him, following him, watching his house." He twisted around to glare at Lori, "and he said he didn't know why and he hadn't done anything wrong. But then Lizzy's father said he was having him investigated for stealing and was going to have him arrested. And then he said he would have me arrested too." He paused, glaring at Jim now, "so I took Mary with me back here, just to make him calm down and think before he did anything. Make him realize I wasn't a bad person and he should leave me and my father alone."

Artie's eyebrows twisted together as he exchanged a glance with his partner. "What twisted logic is this all about?" He took a few steps closer so he could see John's face as he spoke.

Jim stood, exhaling slowly, "It's simple, Artemus," he said, a smile tugging at his face, "he wanted to show Senator Morrill that he wasn't a bad guy by kidnapping the man's granddaughter."

"Of course," Artie said in mock seriousness, "that part is obvious."

"And what better place to hide than at your own home," Jim said, shaking his head and tisking at the man. "Some days I think you and I can only catch the stupid ones." Artie let out a snort and nodded.

Lori leaned over to glare at John, "And what about what you did to Lizzy the night you grabbed Mary? And that poor little girl will have nightmares for life about being dragged from her bed in the darkness!"

"Lizzy had it coming," John snapped, spitting in anger now as his face flushed, "she wouldn't stop yelling at me. She thought I was a fine man until her father started digging up dirt about me and my family just to break us up. And Mary was never scared. I took good care of her. We only got here yesterday. I was going to bring her to a nice place to live with some nuns on the waterfront so she could…"

"So you could hide her better," Lori snapped back, standing now. She moved to stand between the agents. "Elizabeth is Senator's Morrill's daughter and little Mary is her only child, his granddaughter. Her husband died almost two years ago in an accident and recently she met this guy. At first he was great and seemed to treat them well. He was in the elite circle of Washington parties, lots of fun on the surface but behind the scenes he was abusing Lizzy. Christian and I were trying to get her to break it off with him and her father became suspicious. He investigated where John's money was coming from and apparently discovered this smuggling operation".

"So materials come in and out of San Francisco bay, shipping in opium for one thing," Jim said, explaining to Artie, "the money and other goods were being sent overland to Washington. That end is still being looked into, but where did the money go? John couldn't have spent all of it."

"What gets moved out in trade?" Artie asked. "Those ships don't sale empty."

Jim pulled his watch from a pocket and looked at Lori, "can you handle him? I want to look around inside that house tonight. This train can't move until 6 am so that gives me a good four hours." Jim looked over the girl's head, "Christian is with the child?" He moved to open the ramp behind him and then to his horse and began getting the animal ready to ride.

Artie nodded, "She is still asleep. We put her in your bed. We'll have to child proof this train again before she moves around very much." He looked at Lori, "and you two could have told us a little more about this situation on the way out here. Jim and I are here to help."

Lori turned to look at him over her shoulder as she still faced the prisoner, "I told you when I first came, you two have a high death rate. I didn't want you two charging into that house and shoot Johnny here," she paused to kick the man's boot, "If he was dead and we couldn't find the child, Christian and I would have been very upset."

"So you just went along with our plans and just kept asking train questions," Artie sighed, knowing he and his partner had been tricked by professionals.

"It seemed to keep you both entertained," the blond smiled, "and I do find trains interesting." She turned back to John, "besides, if we didn't find him and little Mary in the house, we would have been searching the city. That's why we were in such a hurry. We had to catch up to him before he hid her or something worse."

"I'll do as much searching as I have time for tonight," Jim said, pulling his horse to the open ramp. His eyes were worried. "Hold down the fort, I'll be back."

Artie nodded, knowing Jim would move faster alone. "If you aren't back by six am, I will come looking for you," he paused as Jim's mouth opened in protest, "so just get back here on time."

Jim snorted and nodded. "Sure, partner, sure. Just make sure this train leaves with them for Washington at 6 am whether I'm back or not." He rode down the ramp and disappeared in the darkness.

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back at the house...

Jim stood underneath the wide branches of a mesquite, hidden in the shadows. He held Blackjack by the bridle, holding the horse's large head down next to his face. He whispered to the horse to quiet it. "Let's just wait a minute," he said. The horse snickered and he placed his hand on the animal's soft nose. "sssh," he said. He watched the three men approach a taller man who was standing in the doorway of the house where he had so recently helped Lori remove her quarry.

The taller man shoved the man in the middle, backing him up a step, "where the hell have you idiots been?"

The man caught himself and staggered forward, "I don't rightly know what happened. We saw that sailor man again and he offered us a pull off his whiskey bottle." He rubbed his face, "but I don't remember drinking from it. I remember a white cloud, like it had exploded at me. And a funny smell," he continued.

"You passed out from drinking," the taller man said, apparently the leader. He glared at the other three men. "You're a useless bunch of liars!"

"No, it's that sailor," the man protested again, "I tell ya he had an exploding whiskey flask." The leader cuffed him in the face, knocking his hat off. The man staggered back again, "I'm going to find him and bring him back here to you!" He spun, grabbing his hat off the ground, and stormed off, the other two quickly following him. They disappeared into the darkness, down the dark road.

Jim grinned, as he rubbed Blackjack's nose, knowing all about the sailor and his exploding whiskey flask. He turned to the horse, "you know he got me with that flask the first time he perfected that trick. You watch out he doesn't experiment on you too." The horse shook its head and bit a green leaf off the tree. "Ya, you don't care anymore than he did. He thought it was funny, was still laughing when I woke up." Jim wrapped the reins around the saddle horn. "You stay here until I whistle, ok?" He patted the animal's neck and walked past the tree to approach the house.

Stepping to the porch, Jim opened the door and walked in. The tall man was still in the front room and turned as he entered. "Who the hell are you?" Without giving Jim a chance to answer, he leaped forward and swung his right fist in a wide sweeping shot. Jim easily ducked the slow punch and stepped in close, hitting his right under the man's chin. His opponent's eyes glazed over and he started to crumple. Jim's left was already connecting to the man's temple, driving him to the floor. The body lay in a twisted heap.

"Why ask me who I am if you don't want the answer?" Jim chuckled as he grabbed the man's boots. He dragged the body into the nearby closet and shut the door, suspecting the man would not awaken before he was done his search.

Jim stood in the lobby of the big house, looking at the many doorways and the staircase in the middle of the house. He moved toward a first floor door that seemed to lead to a room in the back of the house. Hoping for an office, he moved through the doorway, and shut the door behind him. He stood in the dim light of the weak moon and waited for his eyes to adjust. He stepped forward and bumped his knee into a low table. With a growl, he slid his boots slowly across the carpet until he reached a large desk. He moved around to the back side of it and sat down in the wooden chair. "Ok, Johnny," he muttered, "I know what you're doing so let's find have some evidence." He opened the top drawer and squinted inside but only found ink wells, pens, and pencils. He shut it and tried the top drawer on the left hand side. The drawer wouldn't budge.

"Locked?" Jim snickered as he pulled out the lock pick from behind his lapel. He put the pick in the lock and twisted, then slowly slide the drawer open, "and not booby trapped; such an amateur." He picked up a leather bound book and opened it on the desk. Slowly turning pages, he could see columns of words and numbers. He tilted the book toward the window but the moonlight was too weak. He set it down and tried the other drawers. Each opened easily and contained blank papers and another unused ledger. He sat back in the chair and looked around the room.

"So, Johnny," he whispered, "you do your work here but can't store all the traded goods at the house. You are too far from the bay where the ships are unloaded but you could have barns to hide small wagon loads. And you probably have a lot of cash on hand which means a safe…" his eyes searched the walls and finally came to rest on a large painting on a back wall across from the desk. The scene was of a sailing ship crossing the ocean with large waves crashing over the ship's point. "Really? Is it that easy?" He stood and walked to the wall, brushing his right hand on his jacket to clean his fingertips. He reached up to look behind the painting and then moved the frame aside on a hinge revealing the front of a safe.

"As usual, behind the painting. Doesn't anyone have a painting for the love of art anymore," he sighed, turning the knob. The door opened and he reached slowly into the dark space. He pulled out an envelope stuffed with papers. He glanced at it briefly and quickly tucked it into an inner jacket. He reached inside again and felt around but nothing else was present. "Hmm, no money? Maybe Johnny has a spending problem." He was shutting the safe door when he heard the door creak next to him. He turned to face the room, pressing his back against the wall, hoping he was hidden in the shadows.

"Mr. Harrigan?" A woman's quiet voice drifted in from the doorway. "Are you here? I thought I heard…" the floor creaked as the woman moved into the room. She carried a candle in a small, old-style holder. The weak light cast shifting shadows in the room. The woman was short and wide, slightly stooped over. Her feet scuffed over the carpet as she moved toward the desk. "Mr. Harrigan? " She walked around the desk and pushed the chair in, as if to neaten the space. She leaned over the desk and reach for the ledger but suddenly her face turned up to look straight into Jim's eyes. "Oh!" She gasped and dropped the burning candle onto the book, stepping backwards in surprise.

"No," Jim hissed, jumping forward. He grabbed the book and gingerly turned the candle holder upright. He stepped back to brush candle wax off the leather and inspect the damage. "Just the outside is singed," he said with relief. He looked up to see the woman staring at him silently, her hands to her face. Realizing she was frightened, he smiled his most convincing smile. "I apologize for upsetting you like this," he said, nodding to her. "My name is James West. I am here on official business…"

"I don't know anything about Mr. Harrigan's business friends," the woman whispered, still scared stiff.

"No, you don't understand," Jim started to reply, then he removed his badge from an inner coat pocket. He watched the woman's eyes leave his face and move to the badge. "I am a Federal officer investigating Mr. Harrigan's business dealings…"

"He isn't here," the woman said, interrupting again.

Jim put the badge back into his pocket, "yes, I know that. I arrested him earlier and …"

"Arrested?" The woman started to swoon, tilting sideways. Jim quickly stepped around the desk to grab her elbow. He tossed the book back onto the desk and pulled out the chair, guiding her to sit.

"I know this is a shock to you and I apologize," he said, speaking slowly and softly. He sat back on the corner of the desk and smiled at her again. "I am here to look around for any papers or other books like this one," turning to tap a finger on the ledge. "Have you seen anything in the house? I have looked this room over and checked the safe," again, pausing to nod toward the safe door still visible in the wall. "I am wondering if you could show me around the house, maybe to his bedroom?"

"Of course," the woman said, still wary of him. "I need to check on the child too. There is a little girl here now and…"

Jim smiled again, shaking his head, "I have her also. She is returning to Washington D.C. to be with her mother. She wasn't really supposed to be with Mr. Harrigan."

"Oh, dear," the woman said, holding her hands to her face. "I was so surprised when he came here with her. He said the child's mother was going to join them and live here in this house."

"Did he appear to treat the girl well?" Jim's eyes narrowed at the woman, watching her closely. "Should I have a doctor look at her?"

"No," the woman said, "the child was happy and cheerful. He seemed friendly with her but I wouldn't say inappropriate. And he had lots of new clothes for her and books and toys." The woman paused, obviously thinking, "If you are traveling with her, would you be needing her spare clothes and toiletries?"

Jim stood, picking up the book, "yes, of course. I should have thought of that myself." The woman rose and moved toward the door, with Jim following. They made their way upstairs to a hallway of doors.

"This is his room here," the woman said, pointing to the first door at the head of the stairs. "The child's is further down and mine is at the end." She sighed, looking at the doors, "it was so enjoyable to have a child in the house. It's so quiet here normally. Mary is a very sweet girl and very smart. She loves reading books."

"I'm sure she does," Jim said, stepping forward to open the first door. "It you could gather her things together, I will check this room out." He watched as the woman moved down the hall to the second doorway and then stepped into the bedroom. He paused to light a gas fixture on the wall, and then quickly looked into bureau drawers. A table by the bed had pencils, pens, and a note pad but the paper was blank. He quickly brushed a pencil sideways on the paper, looking for the indents of letters from a previous note, but nothing decipherable showed. He stepped to a closet and pushed clothes aside, tapping inside on the wooden walls for hollow sounds. As he looked back into the room, he noticed the woman watching him, a puzzled look on her face. "I am looking for hidden rooms and hallways behind the walls." She continued to stare, "many old homes have hidden spaces."

"If you say so, sir," the woman muttered, handing him the bag. "Are you going to the warehouse next?"

Jim took the bag, "thank you for this. What warehouse? Where is it?"

"Mr. Harrigan was always running for here to there and back again. I just thought you would be wanting to tap on walls there too." She chuckled at her own joke, "Front street, just off Pier st, which is off Main," she said, "do you know the city? I could draw a simple street map."

Jim smiled, nodding to her. "I know the way. Thank you for your help. I doubt you will be seeing John Harrigan for a few years. The house may be seized by the government so, for now, please stay here and keep track of everything. Someone will be in touch with you soon." He turned and walked quickly down the stairs and outside. He whistled to his horse and waited for the black to emerge from the shadows of the mesquite and trot to him. He hooked the bag onto the saddlehorn and patted the horse's side. He pulled out his watch and tilted toward the weak moonlight, just making out the time. "Let's go for a fast ride to the ocean," he whispered. The horse whinnied and nodded its head as he leaped into the saddle. He kicked the animal lightly and moved quickly down the road.

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Artemus shut the front door of the varnish car, silently, behind him and turned to walk down the narrow hallway. He stopped, a foot still in mid-air, as he stared down at the small child who had stepped out of Jim's bedroom. The child wore one of Jim's white undershirts, which hung almost to the floor. Sophie was in her arms.

"Well, hello," Artemus said, slowly lowering to one knee. "You must be Mary."

"I am," the girl said. She held the kitten out in her hands, "what is her name?" She quickly pulled the kitten back to her chest, stroking its fur. The kitten twisted and meowed but didn't attempt to get away.

"Oh, that's Sophie," Artie said, smiling.

"Does she live here?" Mary took a few steps closer. "I was on another train but it wasn't like this and it didn't have a kitten. And there were a lot of other people there too and they were all very loud. And I didn't see any beds like this one has."

Artie smiled, nodding to the girl, "yes, Sophie lives on the train. And this train is more like a house on wheels. Do you like it?"

"I do like it," Mary said. She hugged the kitten against her face. "But why aren't we moving? Don't trains usually move?"

"This train will move at six o'clock," Artie sighed, "we are waiting for another person to arrive." He winked at the girl, "a very important person. His name is Jim and he lives here too with me and Sophie. My name is Artemus." He paused as the girl attempted to say his name. Laughing quietly, he whispered, "I bet Sophie would like some breakfast. How about you?"

The girl nodded, "yes, I think Sophie is hungry. Are you the cook?"

Artie stood slowly and patted her head, stepping past her. "I suppose I am," he chuckled. The girl followed him into the galley and waited in the doorway. Artie put a bowl on the floor, just underneath the edge of a table, and removed a glass bottle of milk from the ice box. "This is for Sophie," he said, pouring some milk into the bowl. The kitten wiggled frantically at the sight of her bowl and the girl quickly put her down. Sophie hopped sideways in excitement as she approached the bowl and began to drink, her whiskers dripping with white droplets. "And this is for you," Artie said, handing the girl a cup of milk. The child took it and began sipping as she watched him move around the room.

"When is the train going to move?" She asked again.

Artie looked down at her and winked, "I will show you," he said, picking up a large watch from the counter. "I use this watch to help me cook because sometimes I need to time my food. See the fastest hand moving?" The girl leaned over to look at the watch face. "That's the second hand. It moves really fast. And see the longest hand?" He pointed at the glass, "when that hand moves straight down at the 6, we will leave." He handed her the watch and stood to fill the stove with small pieces of wood. Then he moved a large coffee pot to a back burner on the stove top and moved the large frying pan to the front burner.

A man suddenly appeared in the hallway, clearing his throat. Artie stared at the stove top, not looking at him, as he rubbed lard in the hot pan.

"Artemus," the man said quietly. "Jim said we was to leave promptly at six."

"I know what he said, Cobb," Artie whispered. He let out a long sigh, "maybe we could get moving slowly this morning. Take your time getting ready…"

Cobb rubbed his face, "already got a full head of steam but I could check those break lines once more, just for safety." He winked at the child, "But when you give the word, we'll move off."

Artie sighed again, nodding, staring at the stove, "yes, go." Cobb turned and walked back down the hall. The door shut behind him.

The little girl held the watch up, "but it isn't at the 6 yet."

Artemus looked down at her, "it will be when we leave. He needs to get the train ready to move. I just wish my friend Jim would show up." He tried to smile but his eyebrows twisted with worry.

"Oh, I thought that was your friend," the girl said, sipping at her cup.

"That is my friend but his name is Mr. Cobb. He is the engineer that drives the train," Artie said, as he moved to the ice box again. He removed a bowl of sausages and moved them to the pan. "No, my friend is going to come riding up on a big, black horse," Artie said, kneeling down once more in front of the child, "the horse is so black it shines in the sunlight. And the saddle is covered with fancy silver conchos." He smiled to her, his voice a whisper, "he'll be here." As if on cue, men's voices were heard shouting outside. Artie stood quickly and moved to a hallway window, visibly relaxing. "Well, speak of the Devil."

The child put the empty cup on the floor and pushed in front of his knees, standing on her tiptoes, trying to peek out the glass. "I can't see, pick me up," she demanded, holding her arms up to Artie.

He leaned over and scooped her up, holding her on his hip. "Let's go outside and say good morning," he said, hugging her. He carried her down the hall and out the front door to the deck between the cars. He squinted into the early morning sun to see Jim, on his horse, talking with Cobb. "You're late, partner," he called out.

Jim turned and grinned, moving the horse closer. "I can't be late, partner," Jim said, trying to look stern but the dimples showed he was smiling, "If it was past six, you would have left already."

"Oh, right," Artie laughed, "then you are just in time." The little girl started to hold out the watch, showing the big hand now past the number 6, but Artie put his hand around it. "Oh, that watch runs fast anyway."

Jim snorted and dismounted as Cobb lowered the ramp. Jim pulled his horse up as Artie walked back inside with Mary. Jim walked past the prisoner, still secured to the post, with Lori sitting on the floor behind him. "Any problems?"

"No," Lori said, glaring into the back of John's head. "He hasn't moved." She stretched her long legs out in front of her, keeping the shotgun across her lap. "He even stopped talking, hoping I would fall asleep." John sat rigid and silent. Lori stretched her arms and shoulders and then climbed to her feet. "Did you find anything?"

Jim handed her the ledger book and the carpet bag, nodding toward their prisoner. "I'll explain these to you later." He turned to the horse, removing the saddle and blanket, and then the bridle.

"I'll brush him," Lori said, "you go get some coffee. Artie just brought me a glass of water and said he would make breakfast soon. I'm not sure who is more nervous about you getting back here, him or Sophie." she grinned, handing the bag back to him. She opened the book and flipped through a couple pages, "interesting. Code?"

"Possibly,"Jim took the book, tucking it under his arms, and stooped to check the handcuffs. "John, don't worry about a thing. Just relax and enjoy the ride." He lowered his voice, "and don't bother this crazy lady. She needs a new punching bag to practice on and you might be it." He looked back to see Lori brushing the side of Blackjack, noticing the shotgun standing in a corner near her legs. Satisfied, he moved toward the varnish car, tired and hungry.

tbc