The Catman in: The Case of the Unofficial Tontine.
From the Journals of The Deacon.
Note to my readers: Originally this was intended to be a two part story, but due to time constraints and reader requests, I've decided to break with tradition and present this "two part" story in three parts (Parts one, part 2.1 and 2.2) in order to get more of the story out quicker than I'd otherwise be able to. I hope you enjoy it.
Part 2.1 of The Case of The Unofficial Tontine
Merryweather remained seated for a moment saying nothing; his fingertips still clasped together beneath his chin. Finally he spoke, addressing his comments to me. "I have of course heard the gist of the Colonel's tale in his letter. I wanted you to hear it too, Deacon, and, of course, the smallest of details I needed to hear myself. With the facts and personalities in my position, I've already begun several thought tracks with the hopes of finding a solution."
"Then you believe me, Sir?" The colonel asked.
"I believe that you believe in everything that you have detailed colonel. You are, as you have stated, either the victim of prolonged trickery or these occurrences are exactly as they claim to be. I discount neither possibility. Indeed, I am personally aware that, to use an old quote 'There is more to heaven and Earth than in your philosophy, Horatio.' I am no stranger to the supernatural."
"Then you believe these forces are in play here, Merryweather?" I asked
"I'd hesitate to jump to a snap conclusion," my friend answered.
"But surely the length of time...the changing face of the maps. Years passed between these incidents."
The colonel nodded his agreement, but Merryweather merely inclined his head and smiled slightly. "Consider, Deacon," he began, "the initial incidents all took place nearly 40 years ago. Perhaps as the colonel conjectured, they could all be explained by a form of mass hypnosis. There then followed separate related happenings concerning the maps. The first mere months later, the second a decade after, then again five years ago and culminating with the final map alteration a month ago. All of which coincided with the death of one of the unofficial Kolobad Tontine. Supernatural or again hypnosis?"
I shook my head in disbelief ."Over the course of 40 years! Do you propose someone mesmerised Colonel Danforth in each instance?"
"Preposterous," chipped in the Colonel, but with an element of doubt in his voice. "and what of the returning map?" he queried with greater confidence.
"A trifle," said Merryweather "A mesmeric post hypnotic suggestion preventing you the ridding yourself of the thing. You went to throw it away, but in fact you only thought you did."
A look of enlightenment crossed the military man's face "All trickery, but who..."
Now Merryweather looked Colonel Preston Danforth Square in the eyes "I never said it was definitely trickery. I merely endeavoured to explain things in the most rational manner but I"ll admit there are holes in the whole thing that I cannot rationally explain and if you'll forgive my continual reliance on quotations, I should like to quote from a contemporary of mine when I say 'When all other possibilities are investigated and discarded, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' However gentlemen, I must state that the mystery of Kolobad and its maps are of secondary importance. Whoever has been behind these threats to the Colonel certainly believes in the authenticity of the Kolobad map and it is this unknown personage we should direct our efforts towards discovering. Colonel, I should like to see the map itself and the letters. When is it convenient for Deacon and myself to call?"
"Why, tomorrow should be fine my boy. What time would suit?"
"The afternoon sir. Shall we say four o'clock? I am a late riser, due to keeping nocturnal hours." Merryweather glanced at his pocket watch "Ah ten o'clock. Deacon be so good as to summon Collins and ask him to prepare a late supper for three. You'll stay, of course, Colonel Danforth. The Halibut in béarnaise sauce is not to be missed and The Tem serves an impeccable Chardonnay to accompany the dish."
We Call On The Colonel for Tea
The following afternoon I met Merryweather on the corner of Bridge Street and we proceeded to Quinlain heights for our appointment with our esteemed client, although client is perhaps the wrong word to use. Merryweather has a case by case policy for dispensing his services in the field of detection. He accepts cases if he has an interest and would often refer a high paying routine case to the police while engaging a penniless client with a challenging mystery. I've personally never seen Merryweather pocket a red cent out of any fees he might be awarded, although he would often deduct expenses from a high commission and donate the bulk to charity or a worthy cause. On other occasions when he has accepted low commission, as in the case of the 'Nine Cent Adventure,' Merryweather would unfailing reach into his own deep pockets to supply any expenditure that might be wrought during a case.
The Danforth residence proved to be an impressive 12 bedroom Georgian situated in the centre of Quinlain Heights. Although only halfway up the hill in a prestigious part of suburban Holyoke, the occupants of the house were still afforded a marvellous view of Holyoke Bay and the city beyond. What magnificent sunsets might be seen from one of the benches in the nearby park!
Merryweather adjusted his cravat, slightly uncomfortable in the warm sun, but impeccably dressed as always; raised his catshead cane to the dark oak door and tapped twice firmly upon the wood. Within moments we were ushered into the cool fastness of the darkened hallway, a sharp contrast to the brightness of the sun from a moment before.
Colonel Preston Danforth emerged from a nearby room and greeted us "David, Mr Deacon. Good of you to come. Please come through to my study."
We entered and were soon seated and enjoying afternoon tea as Merryweather studied the Kolobad map, retrieved by the Colonel that morning on my friend's instructions. Presently Merryweather set aside his eyepiece (an old and valued tool, more commonly used by those in the diamond trade) and addressed us. "Detail, consistency and materials tell me nothing apart from the fact that this is a perfectly ordinary papyrus map of a type originated in ancient Egypt - the making of which is still known today, but, of course, an outmoded form. The ink base is a much advanced type - carbon based and I should date the age of this particular map at around 40 years. A precise estimate is of course impossible without access to the proper tools within my laboratory. The detail contained on the face should allow us, in conjunction with maps of the region to track the precise location of the lost city should we endeavour to do so. All in all, setting aside the fact that the map leads to a lost civilisation, it is unremarkable and exactly as I suspected. Gentleman let us turn our attention to other avenues."
It was then that we heard a sound behind us and a young woman entered the room. We all stood as she glanced around at us with interest before addressing the Colonel "Please excuse me Uncle," she began "Some telegrams have arrived for your guests. They were marked urgent, so I thought I'd better bring them up at once."
The Colonel chuckled. "My dear, you know perfectly well Bettling could have performed that task, but now that you're here allow me to introduce my guests, which I'm sure was your very reason for coming."
The young lady blushed prettily for a moment and lowered her eyes in a most becoming way as the Colonel stated my name. "… and Captain David Merryweather," our host was concluding as his niece chanced to look up. I fancied I saw my friend start slightly as his dark brown eyes met her blue ones. The impression lasted only a second, for Merryweather abruptly straightened and bowed slightly as Colonel Danforth said "Gentlemen, my niece Katherine Conn."
"Miss Conn," Merryweather addressed her, taking her hand and again locking eyes with the young lady for a few seconds before she shyly glanced away.
This time there was no mistaking it. For Merryweather this was a display of emotion on an unprecedented scale.
The young lady in question was undoubtedly a beauty. Aged around 20 years old, she was diminutive and slender, her auburn hair worn neatly pinned up. Her attire one supposed the height of fashionable chic but at the same time simplistically elegant and worn without the added adornments that made many a fashionable lady of my acquaintance seem merely pretentious. Of course, we invited her to stay and Merryweather was kind enough to repeat his earlier observations for the lady's benefit as she listened most intently and with intelligent understanding of his points.
"Last night," my friend continued "I left the Tem at a late...or rather early hour and travelled to an inn downtown."
This was news to me as the Colonel and I had been in his company until half past eleven!
"As you could guess by the hour and the location, this...establishment was not a reputable one, but I was sure I would find one Thomas "Hooks" Varney on the premises. I was correct." Blank faces all around. "Mr Varney," Merryweather added "is distinguished by two very obvious features and while I have personal knowledge of at least three gentlemen of the lower criminal fraternity possessed of hooks instead of a right hand, only one also possesses a purple irised glass eye in his left socket."
The colonel's own eyes lit up. "Of course! One of the thugs that accosted me." And I remembered that the retired military man had furnished us with a full description at dinner last night. Miss Conn smiled at Merryweather, her expression bright. "You knew how to find this man based only on my uncle's description?"
Merryweather inclined his head slightly. "My activities within the field of private detection require a certain knowledge of the denizens of the city's underworld, Miss Conn. I try to keep my files complete."
"Oh, how clever! But Captain…"A small concerned gasp escaped her lips. "Do you mean to say you bearded this…criminal within his own den of ruffians?"
"It was necessary Miss Conn and ultimately quite fruitful in providing a lead."
"I should not like to think of you endangered on our behalf sir."
"Nonsense my dear," the Colonel interjected. "Captain Merryweather is quite capable of looking after himself, am I right young man?"
Merryweather allowed himself a slight wry smile "You are, sir. Please don't concern yourself Miss Conn. With my military training and experience in such matters, I was never in any danger."
"Oh, but I am concerned dear captain Merryweather," The young lady retorted. "After all sir, it was our family that they threatened and we who embroiled you in the affair."
"A commission I gladly accepted."
I could hold my tongue no longer "Confound it man, you should've at least taken me with you. What if the affair had turned violent?"
A pause... "You are right ,of course, old man. Fortunately I was able to handle the matter with a minimum of disruption."
"And your findings?" prompted Danforth.
"Mr Varney proved most helpful. As I suspected his part in the incident was that of a hired hand. His recruitment and payment were handled by the large bald gentleman who accompanied him - one Tobias Jenks. Jenks was close mouthed on the subject of their purpose and the identity of their employer, but Varney obviously knew that they were after a map, even if he did not know what type of map and why. One thing he did know was that Jenks wasn't just another hireling but a regular employee of our mystery figure. Tavern gossip and other informative sources leads me to believe that there is an as yet unidentified figure uniting various criminal elements within the city's underworld. I believe this person to be Jenks' employer."
"What do I have to do with this…this gangleader?" spluttered the Colonel
"What indeed," mused Merryweather, before turning his attention back to our host. "Not a mere gang leader, Colonel. I fear we are dealing with a felon of a higher order. For one, nobody, even among the tavern crowds, seem to have any idea of his identity or his location. Unusual for a gang boss - but our friend seems to have been active for at least six months, operating in shadow and mystery, assembling a chain of command so that each level of the hierarchy orders and reports to the levels below and above, with none certain who reports to our crime lord."
"What's our next move?" Colonel Preston Danforth wanted to know.
Merryweather stood. "The connection between this crime lord and he who seeks to possess your map are virtually certain in my mind Colonel. I have suspicions, which I will share with you and Miss Conn presently. First, there are facts to be corroborated and more inquiries to be made."
"Can you tell us nothing more, Captain Merryweather?" pressed Miss Conn.
"Only that I pursue two avenues, Miss Conn. I await the replies to telegrams sent this morning and I must now track Mr. Jenks and his elusive employer."
"WE must," I added firmly.
"Of course, old friend," Merryweather smiled. "I wouldn"t have it any other way."
"Then God go with you both," cried the young lady, echoed by her uncle.
We gathered our coats and hats and bade them farewell.
"Where to first?" I asked as we strode down the street.
Merryweather answered without breaking stride "To Peccary, of course."
Part 2.2. We visit our old adversary Mr Peccary. Merryweather closes the net. Our foes make themselves known and the affair concludes. To be concluded in next weeks "Holyoke Picture Dispatches" from the journal of the Deacon.