Chapter 12. Hell Breaks Loose
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Jim yawned as he walked into the varnish car. Artie was sitting at the table just finishing a cup of coffee. The tall, silver carafe was next to him on the table. Little Mary was sitting on his lap making funny faces in her reflection.
"You more hungry or tired?" Artie asked, grinning up at his bleary-eyed partner.
"Both", Jim said, dropping the envelope on the table. "I found these in a safe in an office in the house John lived in. I haven't looked at them yet." He held out the ledge, "and this was locked in a desk drawer. Lots of columns of numbers and letters but I need to look at it more closely to connect the dots." He sat heavily in a chair, placing the book on the table. He reached over to grasp the carafe, picking it up and pouring coffee.
"Hey," Mary said, smiling at him. "You took my mirror. I was looking at me."
"What?" Jim said, laughing at her, "but I don't see you. I see me," he said, holding the silver vessel in front of his face as she giggled. He put the pot back on the table, picking up his cup. The girl leaned over again, lying partially on the table, looking at herself again. "Nope, you again," Jim said, picking up the ledge again and moving to the couch.
"Hey," Mary said again, dropping onto the floor to follow him. "I like that book, it has fun words." She climbed onto the couch as Jim sat down. "It has words like gold and silver."
Jim sipped from the cup and set it quickly down on the side table as the little girl grabbed at the ledger, "hold on," he said. He opened the book as Mary settled next to him. The columns of numbers and letters blurred before his tired eyes. He yawned again, rubbing a hand over his face. "I might have to do this later." He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.
"I will read to you," Mary said, leaning over to point a finger onto a page. "G is for gold. S is for silver." Jim opened one eye to watch her read. "W is for wheat."
"Are you making that up?" Jim picked his head up to look at the page. He noticed that the numbers next to the letter G were much higher than the other numbers.
"No, this is the book John read to me when we were riding on the train. He told me what all the letters meant," Mary announced importantly, "and he said I had to keep learning my letters. This was the only book we had. He bought me books yesterday and I had them at the house. There was an old lady there, she was nice, and we read together."
Jim stole a glance at his partner. Artie was watching from the table. He had spread the papers from the envelope over the table cloth. He picked up one sheet, waving it, "G seems to stand for gold, James, my boy." He winked, "Seems John is trading all sorts of materials."
Jim looked at the book again, "what about these other letters?"
Mary pointed, "C is for coal. R is for rice."
The list continued as Jim looked from Mary to Artie. "This is crazy. Who trades everything? People usually trade one thing for another, keep a pattern."
"That may be why this ring was so difficult to pin down. Too many variations, too big, no patterns." Artie gathered the sheets up and folded them. "This can all go to Colonel Richmond as soon as we get back. You know how secretive he is, keeps his cards close to his chest."
"He probably suspects a lot of this or knows more than he has told us," Jim agreed. "The master who holds all the strings. But maybe it will be the proof he needs to start collecting people."
Christian walked quietly into the room, paused to smile at Artie and then moved to Mary. "Good morning, Sweetie," she said, leaning over to hug the girl. Mary pointed to the ledger and then looked at Jim, giggling behind her hands. "What are you doing with Jim?" Christian sat on the couch, leaning over to look at the book.
"She's reading to me," Jim said, rubbing a hand on the girl's back, "and doing a fine job." He turned to look at Artie, "you mind if I sleep for a while in your room?"
"No, go ahead," Artie said, standing, "but I was just going to put breakfast on the table."
Jim let out a long sigh, "all right, food then sleep." He looked at Christian. "Everyone taking turns in the back room?"
She nodded, "I'm next, then Artemus. Assuming we can get Lori to leave the car." She shook her head, "she is very angry."
Jim watched her for a minute, noticing her usual relaxed features were tense, her jaw clenched. "You will have to tell me the rest of the story later," he said quietly, as Mary leaned against him to turn a page. Christian nodded, reaching out to run a gentle hand over Mary's hair.
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Later that day….
Artie leaned against the doorjamb of the passageway into the stable car where John was still handcuffed to the post. Lori stormed past him, off toward the varnish car, clutching her shotgun, as Christian approached. Artie handed her his own shotgun, letting out a long sigh, "it's loaded. Stay away from him. I will be out soon to stay with you."
"I can sit behind him where he won't even see me," she said quietly. "Please try to make sure Lori eats something. It will make her feel better." She looked back toward the varnish car, "this has been very upsetting to everyone but hits her especially hard."
"Why?" Artie said, curious, "what did happen, anyway? There wasn't any talk in Washington but Colonel Richmond said the Senator reported his daughter had been injured and the granddaughter kidnapped. He seemed to have a dozen agents working the case."
Christian stepped closer, whispering, "I told you earlier that Lori and I had gone to check on Lizzy at her house. When we arrived, the front door was wide open, which is not like her. It's usually locked, even during the day, but we have a key. So we went in and found her in the front parlor." She paused, shaking her head slightly, "she was on the floor, had been beaten, her face was all blood, and she was knocked out." Artie's eyes narrowed in anger as he listened, "we wrapped her in blankets and brought her to the women's clinic. You probably never heard of it, its run by a woman doctor," she paused, as Artie nodded, "well anyway, when she finally woke up she was able to tell us what happened. She said John had attacked her when she told him she wanted to stop seeing him. She said he threatened to take Mary where she would never find her."
They paused to look toward the captured man, "he almost made it," Artie whispered. "That's why you were in such a hurry and needed a fast train ride out here."
"Yes, we went from the clinic to see Colonel Richmond at his house," she continued. "We knew by that time of day that he would be home. We hoped to find Mary at John's father's house and wanted to search it." She smiled, "Colonel said he had agents watching the outside of the house for any suspicious men connected with this smuggling ring, but the agents wouldn't leave their posts to bother us."
Artie chuckled, "Jim saw you two and it immediately made him suspicious. He couldn't figure out if you were men or women. But he decided on women in men's clothing which made him even more suspicious so we had to catch up to you."
"Colonel Richmond also said," she smiled, stepping closer, "that if we had serious trouble, we were to shout out to the building you were in and you men would come save us." Artie laughed, shaking his head. "Colonel Richmond always has all his points covered, doesn't he?"
"Always," Artie said, wrapping an arm around her waist.
"So when we went inside the house, all we found was a cook." She paused, thinking back. "The poor woman was crying and then we scared her, appearing out of the darkness. We had to calm her down to get her to talk but she finally said John had appeared with a small child wrapped in a quilt. John's father had been there and was angry and told John to return the child and kidnapping her would only make matters worse. They spoke about the police following them everywhere. She said John finally stormed off, yelling about going to San Francisco. And then the father had left too. She told us that was where John had a home and business. She wrote the address down for us and we encouraged her to leave, said it was dangerous to work there. I hope she did."
"You two could have told us the address," Artie said softly, trying to keep the anger and frustration out of his of his voice.
Christian just smiled. "When you two stopped us on the street and flashed your badges, we realized who you were, but didn't want to say anything without Richmond's approval. After breakfast at the Italian place, we met Richmond at his home again. He said he would arrange for fast transport to west coast."
"And the rest, as they say, is history," Artie sighed. "You two have been a couple of steps ahead of Jim and I this entire trip. I hope we all know everything now?"
"Well," Christian smiled, her dark blue eyes twinkling, "a girl can have a few secrets, can't she?" She stood on tip toes and kissed his lips lightly, whispering, "I need to go watch him. Please try to feed Lori. She can live on anger for days but needs to keep her strength up."
"She does seem more angry than usual," Artie said, looking toward the varnish car. "Why? Wishing she could shoot John and be done with him?"
"It's just how she covers her feelings of worry and frustration," she said, "we all handle stress differently. I just stay out of the way."
"Lori reminds me of Jim," Artie said, "they are very similar." He leaned down to kiss her again, "be very careful with this guy. He isn't happy about being with us." He watched her walk into the stable car and sit silently in a dark corner, almost disappearing before his eyes.
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Later that evening….
Jim woke to the sharp pain of being struck in the right temple. He lurched up, one fist instinctively blocking to protect his face and another punching outward into the air. His eyes focused on a black coat to one side of him and he turned toward it, noticing the figure had no head. Gasping in shock, he leaned back, bringing his feet upward toward the ghostly figure. Just before he kicked out, his eyes noticed the shelves of books just beyond the mattress. He paused, as his eyesight cleared, to see a wooden trunk piled high with hats of various shapes. He looked back at the headless figure, which now was only a black coat hanging on a hook. He let out a long breath and lowered his feet the floor. The object that had struck him was now in his lap; a book, open to the chapter title, printed on the page, "Falling Objects".
"What hit me?" Jim muttered, one hand rubbing his sore temple. He closed the book and looked at the title on the cover, "Really? A Study of Gravity?" He snorted, looking behind him and up. A shelf over his head had an assortment of books half on, half off, sliding closer to the edge. "Crazy pile of…" he stood and reached out to drop the book on a table or trunk but couldn't see any available space. He shook his head and tossed the book onto the bed as the blast of a shot gun shook the air. "No!" Jim screamed as he exploded from his partner's bedroom. He ran down the hall toward the stable car.
Another shot blast exploded as Jim entered the box car. Horses were whinnying in fear and a loud crash was heard, the sound of wood and metal falling. He paused as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room except that the outer wall was blinding with daylight. He blinked, trying to determine what he was looking at.
"What the hell?" He ran forward, seeing the ramp bouncing, crooked, halfway open as the train powered down the tracks. The wooden tackle box was dangling loose off its bracket, crashing against the inner wall, in a tangle of heavy ropes. Jim grabbed at the ropes but then heard a loud click behind him. He spun, his eyes searching the car. Light and darkness flashed as the sunlight tried to enter the darkened car.
"West," a man's voice yelled, stepping out of the shadows to stand between horse stalls.
Jim stepped back, holding his arms out to his sides. John approached, holding Artie's shotgun, both barrels pointing toward the agent's midsection. Jim's eyes scanned the room, finally seeing his partner's boots on the floor. He hoped Artie was only unconscious, lying on the floor behind Blackjack's horse stall. He swallowed his panic, tearing his eyes back to John. "That gun's empty," he growled, "you shot both barrels. And you better not have shot my partner or I'll drag you behind this train all the way to Washington."
John glared back, "you think I would sit there chained to a post without fighting back?" He stepped closer, nodding toward the ramp, "get out of my way. I'm jumping off."
Jim noticed both of the man's wrists were bleeding. He must have pulled the handcuffs off, he thought, taking some skin with it. "Over my dead body," Jim growled again. He suddenly leaned forward and jumped at the man's legs, throwing his body underneath the gun barrel, one shoulder first.
John fell over as the shotgun blasted again, into the ceiling. The tackle broke free of the rafter and the ropes went slack. The ramp crashed to the ground, the outer edge ripping over the stones along the train tracks.
Jim turned to grab at his quarry but the frenzied man kicked out, his feet catching Jim in the gut. The agent fell back, stunned, holding his stomach. By the time Jim caught his breath and regained his feet, John had jumped out of the open train car. Enraged at letting the prisoner escape, he leaped out of the train car too, his right arm grasping the doorway, to push himself clear of the train's wheels. But instead of jumping clear, his body slammed back against the outer wooden wall. His right arm wrenched over his head as his feet dangled near the lower edge of the car. Jim twisted, looking up at his hand, seeing the cuff of his coat snared on a metal hook attached to the doorway. He grabbed out with left arm, reaching up to free his right, but he couldn't reach. He looked up toward the back of the varnish car, trying to calm his nerves, and saw the last glimpse of the John running down the tracks and the train rounded a curve. He looked forward toward the engine to yell out to Cobb, but the train's noise would drown out any calls for help.
As if reading his thoughts, Cobb's head appeared out the side window. The engineer's face went to the downed ramp, still crunching along the ground. His eyes widened in alarm, then raised to see Jim, dangling from the side of the stable car. The man's mouth dropped open in shock and the head quickly disappeared back into the engine room. The brakes screamed, locking the wheels to a stop, and sending the train engine, stable car, and varnish car sliding down the rails.
Jim sighed with relief, as he twisted on his ripped coat, feeling the train slowly decrease in speed. He tried to see into the stable car, worried about his partner, but the back wall was in dark shadows. He looked forward again and noticed Cobb was watching him with a look of panic on his normally calm face. The engineer disappeared back into his window and Jim saw an outcropping of hill with steep ledge in the distance, hanging close to the rail bed. He watched the rocks approach and felt a tingling sensation climb up his spine. The train was still moving quickly, even as it slowed, and was rapidly approaching the cliff. Jim squinted into the sun, trying to gauge how much space he would have between the rocky outcrop and the side of the train car. He twisted again, turning his back to the view, and scrabbled his boots against the car's outer wooden wall, trying to find any purchase to hold his body still. He managed to get one boot braced against a knot in a plank. He pressed his body against the car, praying the rocks would pass by his shoulders. Then he remembered the ramp was down.
Tbc….