Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Thirty-Two
We got out of the car and walked over to Jennie Gains and her
children. I looked up at the shed. It had a new, stout door that had been
boarded and nailed shut.
“Jennie, you’ve not been driven out, have you?” Flo said.
“The sheriff done it,” Mrs. Gains said. “He snuck up here right
after Joe went out on the river this mornin’. He says we can’t live here no
more.”
“This must be Glen Conrad’s work,” I said. “One would think he’d
be so occupied with his own troubles, he’d have no energy left to create
trouble for you.”
“Probably he notified the sheriff before Jack’s disappearance,”
Florence suggested. “Maybe that day when he tumbled into the water.”
“Yes, that would be my guess,” I said, “but it doesn’t help
matters. Once an order goes into effect, it’s hard to get it rescinded.”
“I dunno what’ll become of us now,” Mrs. Gains said.
“Wisht we had our houseboat, Ma,” Jed added.
“Don’t talk about it, Jed,” his mother said. “Dreamin’ about yer
troubles is sure bad luck. Last night I seen that there boat jest as plain as
day. There she was, layin’ in a little cove, jest as neat and trim as the day
she vanished. Then I hears Joe a snorin’ like a bull frog with ader-noids. When
I come to and knew it was jest a dream, I felt mighty low.”
“It’s strange about The Empress,” I said. “Florence and I both
believe we saw her—or one very like her—down on the Mulberry River.”
“Joe gits lots of reports about The Empress.” Jennie Gains sighed.
“Seems like that boat has a way o’ vanishin’ before he kin git to where it
ain’t.”
I was still desperately worried about Jack. Even as I spoke to
Jennie Gains, half my brain was devoted to wondering if Mud Cat had found any
clues in the river. But there was nothing I could do, so I decided to take the
troubles of the Gains family upon my shoulders.
“Now don’t you do any worrying, Mrs. Gains,” I said. “Before
nightfall, I’ll find another place for you to live. And we’ll do our best to
get you back on the river before long.”
“That’s mighty sweet of you, Ma’am. I really don’t see why you put
yourself out fer the likes o’ we ’uns. You ain’t a-beholdin’ to us fer nothin’
I kin make out. But I guess some folks is that-away. Doin’ a good turn comes
natural to ’em.”
“It isn’t all one-sided,” I said. “Your husband is presently
engaged in doing us a very great favor.”
There was no point in trying to load the Gains brood into Bouncing
Betsy. They’d have never all fit, and besides, there was no place for them to
go once we got to White Falls, so we left them there, guarding their meager
possessions. It was a warm, sunny day without a rain cloud in sight.
“You’ve let yourself in for trouble, in my opinion, making a
promise like that,” said Flo, uncharacteristically pessimistic. “It won’t be
easy to find a new home for the Gains family. No one will want them when they
can’t pay rent.”
“I know, but someone has to look after them. It was a mean trick
for Glen Conrad to set the sheriff on them. I suspect the property belongs to
Mrs. Fairchild.”
“Then couldn’t you force Glen Conrad to allow the family to remain
in the shed?”
“I suppose I could, Flo, because the man is pretty meek since all
this new trouble came up, but it’s scarcely worth the effort. That old shed
never was a suitable place for humans to live. It will simply be easier to find
a new home for Joe and his family.”
“Just where do you propose to find this new home?”
“It will have to be along the river, or Joe would pine away. There
are quite a number of shacks and cottages on the banks of the Grassy.”
“And who will pay the rent? Unless Mr. Pittman has suddenly
tripled your going rate, you can’t pay it, and I certainly haven’t the money.”
“We’ll meet that problem when we come to it. Let’s start searching
for a suitable place now. It will give us a good excuse to talk to the locals.
Let’s keep our eyes and ears open for any information which might have anything
to do with Jack.”
“What could we hope to learn, Jane?”
“Well, there’s an outside chance he’s being held a prisoner in
some old shack along the river.”
“You’re assuming he was spirited away from Old Mansion. How could
anyone have entered that house without being seen? The house was packed with
guests, and since they were all on the
Examiner’s staff, they were well acquainted. A stranger would have been
noticed immediately, even if he’d only walked through the hall.”
“Have you forgotten that face you saw in the mirror, Flo?”
“I’ll never forget it.” Flo shivered. “But the person I saw must
have been standing outside the window. I’m sure he wasn’t in the room.”
“Can’t you describe the face, Flo?”
“No, it all happened so quickly. I just caught a fleeting glimpse,
and then it was gone.”
“I believe you must have seen the person responsible for Jack’s
disappearance. Probably it’s someone living right near White Falls!”
“I hope I never meet the fiend. Just the recollection of that face
gave me a horrible nightmare.”
“I’d attempt anything if it would help bring Jack back,” I said.
I fell silent, occupied with my unpleasant thoughts. I turned off
on a side road that took us along the river, and we looked for empty shacks. We
found only one, and it was very little better than the old shed where Mud Cat
Joe and his family had been living.
“Let’s try the other side of the river,” Flo suggested.
We drove across the steel bridge at the outskirts of White Falls
and resumed our search. After an hour, we finally came upon a woman who told us
about a place farther up the river.
“It’s a right smart little cottage,” the woman said. “Partly
furnished, too, but the owner ain’t been able to rent it ’cause the roof leaks.
And when the river is high, it sometimes floods right into the yard.”
I jotted down the name of the man who owned the cottage. Then I
asked if she’d noticed anything amiss in the vicinity during the night of Jack
Bancroft’s disappearance. I had asked the same question a hundred times over
already and had no hope of receiving an illuminating reply.
“Well, I can’t say as I noticed anything out of the way,” the
woman said, “but folks think plenty about what goes on at Old Mansion. It looks
mighty queer to me that they’re adraggin’ the river for a body. I said to my
husband, says I, ‘Chris, if folks was right smart they’d ask a few questions of
the Conrads, ’specially about that motor boat which runs down the river at
night.’”
Next Episode
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