Trouble Finds Her, Dewey Webb Historical Mysteries: Book 5

Sample Chapter

CHAPTER ONE

Jasper Caffrey was a good liar. That’s what was going through my mind as I listened to him talk.

“Let me get this straight.” That’s as far as I got before he interrupted me.

“I told you, my daughter is missing.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been to the police, and they have not been helpful, so I’m coming to a private detective.”  He pointed a finger at me. “You.”

“Okay,” I said slowly as I surveyed him.

Caffrey was tall and beefy, with speckled gray hair, a big mustache, and bushy sideburns.  He carried himself with a regal bearing, and it was obvious he was rich and powerful.  He reminded me of a picture of Chester Arthur, the twenty-first president of the United States, that I remembered from a high school history book.

Buddy’s was a sleazy bar tucked into a rundown office building on the corner of Wazee Street and Seventeenth Street in downtown Denver.  At two o’clock on a December afternoon, it was almost empty except for a few bums that had nothing better to do than drown their Christmas sorrows in a bottle.  It was not the kind of place someone like Jasper Caffrey would patronize.

I gestured with a hand to encompass the sleazy little bar that we were in. “Why meet here?” I asked.  “Why not at your house or your office?”

He cleared his throat again.  “Mr. Webb – may I call you Dewey?” I nodded.  “Do you know who I am?”

I shook my head.

“I started Peak Bank, and I’ve turned it into a highly successful company.  I live near the Denver Country Club, where many of my business colleagues live.  I don’t want any of them to know I’m seeing a private detective.”

The Denver Country Club neighborhood is not just home to well-to-do businessmen.  It is one of the richest parts of town.  Even so, his response left me with a question.

“What difference would meeting at your house make if it would help get your daughter back?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I caught the hint of danger.  “It’s better to meet here.”

I let that go and waited for him to continue.

“Will you try to find my daughter?”

“Tell me what’s going on,” I said, “and if I decide to help, we’ll discuss my fee.”

He nodded, then put his hands on the table and smoothed the surface as if that would iron out whatever wrinkles he had in his life.  He finally drew in a breath and began.

“My daughter – Nora – has been a handful.  I’ve tried to keep that a secret because people can be judgmental, if you know what I mean.  I don’t need my private life public when I do business with so many of my neighbors and friends.”  He leaned back and stared at me.

I’d been nursing my shot of Scotch because it was cheap and didn’t taste very good, but I took a sip while I contemplated him, then set the glass down and returned his gaze.  His manner bothered me.  I wasn’t sure I bought his reasoning for wanting to meet here.  The minute he’d walked in, he stuck out, drawing more attention to us than if I’d come to his house.  But the prying eyes didn’t seem to bother him as we sat in the corner and talked.

“When did Nora go missing?” I asked, drawing information from him.

“Last Wednesday evening.”

It was now Monday, so Nora had been gone for more than four days.

“Not a word from her?” I asked.

He shook his head.  I found it interesting that he didn’t seem too terribly upset about it, but I couldn’t tell whether he didn’t care or whether his dignity wouldn’t allow him to show emotion.

“Do you think she’s been harmed?”

He frowned. “I certainly hope not. I don’t know who would do such a thing.” He drew in a deep breath. “She usually comes home from work around 5:30, but that night she didn’t show up.  We – my wife and I – thought maybe she had gone out with friends.  When we were ready to retire for the evening, she still hadn’t come home.”  He smoothed his mustache, then went on.  “She’s disappeared overnight before, stayed at a friend’s, so I didn’t think too much of it, although I was unhappy about it, and my wife worries.  In this case, we thought we’d see her the next morning.  But she never showed up.  That’s when I went to the police, but they haven’t found her.”  He tapped the table with his finger.  “I’m not sure they tried very hard, once they heard she’s stayed out all night before.”

“I would think they’d help a man such as yourself.”

He pursed his lips.  “It has not gone well.”

I thought about that, then said, “Tell me about Nora.”

The hands went back to smoothing the table as he talked.  “She’s twenty-three, and never married, although we wanted her to.  She’s had plenty of good suitors, but she’s shown little real interest in them.”

“Who do you consider a good suitor?”

“A man with good prospects, someone who can support her, treat her well.  Anyway, she took some college classes, but she didn’t seem to like it, so she took a job as a secretary at a doctor’s office to earn money. It’s Doctor Simmons, downtown at the Republic Building. She seems to do okay with it.  It’s kept her out of trouble.”

“She’s been in trouble before?  With the law?”

“Nothing like that.”  He shrugged.  “She hasn’t always been with the best crowd.  She likes to go out at night, and dances and drinks too much, then comes home late.  She worries her mother.  Her moods are all over the place, up and down.  She can be the life of the party, and then suddenly she’s as morose as can be.  I don’t know what to do about it.  She’s acted scared at times, too.”

“Scared of what?”

He glanced away.  “I don’t know.”

I wondered if he was lying.  “Are you sure?” I pressed.

“Yes.”  The hands stopped moving.  “We even took her to a psychiatrist.”

“And?”

“It didn’t help,” he said flatly.

“What’s your relationship with Nora like?”

He forced a smile.  “It’s good, overall.”

I didn’t buy it, but I knew I needed to be careful, so I gave him a hard look.  He didn’t budge.

“How is Nora’s relationship with her mother?” I asked.

“It’s good.  Nora talks to her more than she will to me, but that’s to be expected.”

“Does your wife know where Nora is?”

He shook his head.  “She doesn’t, and I think she blames me for what’s happened to Nora.”  He sighed.  “She believes I’m too hard on Nora, but it’s just that I want what’s best for my daughter.  And all of her difficulties have been hard on me, too, and hard on my business.  My wife and Nora don’t understand that.”

The lack of sympathy punctured the air.

I went on.  “Do you have other children?”

“Nora has two older brothers, Sidney and Roland.  Both served in the war.  My older son is still single, and living here. My younger son married as soon as the war ended, and he’s living in Chicago.”

“Does Nora get along with them?”

“For the most part.  As older brothers, they wanted to protect her, but it was difficult at times, when she got wild. They didn’t know what to do then.”  A faraway look crept into his eyes.  “When my older son – Sidney – came back from the war, he struggled to adjust.  He and Nora might’ve talked about it, but …”

“Does he know anything about where Nora is?”

He shook his head.  “He hasn’t told me anything except that he’s worried about her.”

It wasn’t a clear answer, but I sensed that that was all Caffrey was going to say.  I’d have to follow up with Sidney myself.

“Where does he live?”

“Here in town,” he said vaguely. “But he won’t talk to you.” His tone told me to let it go.

“Who might know where she is, or might know what happened to her?”

His eyebrows furrowed.  “You could check with Nelson Fiske, if you can find him.  He was her boyfriend, for a time.”

“What do you mean, if I can find him?”

“When Nora didn’t show up the other night, I called Fiske, but the number has been disconnected.”

“Where does he work?”

“At the Capitol, but when I’ve called, I can’t get ahold of him.”

“Is he avoiding you?”

He glared at me. “Of course not.”

“Why do you think he might know something about Nora’s disappearance?”

“If Nora had something to hide, she’d tell him.”

“What’s she hiding?”

“Nothing. I just meant if she ran off, she might’ve talked to Fiske about it.”

“Where’d she meet him?”

“At a party, right after the war.  I wasn’t particularly fond of him.  He just didn’t seem quite right to me.  Then suddenly, about six months ago, Nora quit seeing him, but she never said why.  Frankly, I was relieved when she broke up with him.”

The first hint of fatherly protection entered his voice.

“What do you know about Fiske?”

“Not a whole lot.  Nora said he’s a war hero, but I never got the story as to what he did.  He seemed very ordinary, and a bit distant.”

“Were there any other boyfriends?”

“John Singletary. She’s not with him, either. It’s a shame because he had so much to offer. She liked him, and I thought they might get married.” He waved a hand in the air. “He’s a good man, and I know he doesn’t know anything about this.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I am,” he said firmly. “If you don’t believe me, go talk to him. He works at the Midlands Savings building, at Stern Financials.”

“I will.” I went over what he’d told me so far, then continued. “And your wife doesn’t know why Nora would disappear?”

“No.”

I smoked while I listened to the jukebox.  Ruth Brown was singing “So Long,” a ballad that my wife, Clara, loved.  I liked country and western more than rhythm and blues, but I could appreciate Brown’s soulful voice.  I took a few more drags from the cigarette, then circled back to something that had been bothering me.  “The police didn’t do anything?”

“Very little, I’m afraid.  They made a few inquiries at her work, and talked to her friends, but that was it.”

“What about your neighbors?  One of them might know something.”

He held up a hand.  “The police discreetly asked some questions, but no one has any idea about what happened to Nora.  The last time anyone saw her was the morning she left for work. Wednesday.”

I took one last drag on the cigarette, then crushed it out. Caffrey had let the police make inquiries, and yet he didn’t want me visiting his house.  That didn’t seem right.

“Well, Dewey,” he finally said.  “Will I be able to retain your services?”

Things about the conversation didn’t seem to fit. I didn’t like that. But if he was willing to pay me to find his daughter, and his money was good, I would do it.  After all, I had bills to pay.  And I’d likely uncover his lies in the process.  I just had to hope they wouldn’t hinder my ability to find his daughter.

I finally nodded, and named my fee.  He pulled out a fancy wallet and pushed a few twenties across the table.

“That should get you started,” he said.

I hesitated, then took the money and stuffed it into my pocket.  I pulled out a contract from another pocket and had him sign it. That committed me to one of the most difficult cases I’ve had since becoming a private detective.

 

All the Dewey Webb stories are good. They show the nitty gritty of private detective work…Dewey just keeps looking for clues sometimes at his own peril. And these stories are period pieces which Ms Pawlish has captured quite well. She can keep writing and I will definitely keep reading! ~Reader review