Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Ninety-Three
Before the man could pull open
the closet door, a booming voice called impatiently from shore: “Are you
coming? We have plenty of work ahead of us tonight.”
The approaching footsteps paused
and then receded. I heard the retreating sound of voices as the men and Rita
returned to the dock.
We waited at least five minutes
before we stole from our hiding place. I looked out the window to assure myself
that the wharf was deserted.
“What do we do now, start after
the police?” I said to Jack.
“Let’s make certain Atwood is
here first. We can’t afford to be wrong.”
A path led through the timber,
and we followed it. I could see a moving lantern some distance ahead, and we
kept it in sight until the three men and Rita disappeared into a small cabin
hidden in the trees.
Stealing on through the darkness,
we crept up as close as we dared to the cabin and peered in the screen door at
a barren room containing a table, a cook stove and double-deck bunks.
“Get supper on, Rita,” one of the
men ordered.
“Am I supposed to cook anything
for the prisoner?” she asked in a whining voice.
“Not unless he decides to talk.
I’ll find out if he’s changed his mind.”
Aaron Dietz crossed the floor to
an adjoining room. He unlocked the door, which had been fastened with a
padlock, and started to go inside when George called him back with a question
about what he wanted done with some of the supplies.
“Atwood must be in there,” I
whispered to Jack.
Jack and I tiptoed across the
sagging porch and stood under a high glassless window covered with narrow iron
bars. Jack lifted me up so that I could peep into the room. An oil lantern sat
on a small table, which was the only furniture in the room save a single bed.
On that bed sat a haggard young man. Despite the beginnings of a beard and
unkempt hair, I instantly recognized him as the missing bridegroom, still
dressed in his formal day attire. He looked much worse for the wear, and his
wrists were handcuffed.
The door to the prisoner’s room
was opening. Evidently George and Aaron Dietz had finished their conference. I
quickly asked Jack to put me down.
“It’s Thomas Atwood,” I whispered
to Jack as he lowered me to the ground. “They’ve treated him shamefully.”
In the room above, Dietz was
speaking.
“Well, Atwood, have you changed
your mind? How about a little supper tonight?”
“How can I tell you something I
don’t know?” Thomas Atwood retorted. “Furstenberg never confided any of his
secrets to me.”
“You know where his gold is
hidden!”
“I don’t think he ever had any!”
“Oh, yes, he did. A few years
back, Furstenberg had over half his fortune surreptitiously converted into
gold, which he expected to later reconvert into currency at a great profit to
himself. His plans went amiss when government men listed him for investigation
for tax evasion, among other things related to his shady financial dealings.”
“You know all about his private
affairs,” Thomas Atwood said. “Strange that you haven’t learned the hiding
place of the gold—if there ever was any!”
“It will do you no good to
pretend, Atwood! Either you tell the hiding place, or we’ll bring your bride
here to keep you company!”
“You wouldn’t dare touch her, you
fiend!”
“No? Well, unless you decide to
talk, she’ll share your fate, and I promise you it won’t be a pretty one. Now,
I’ll leave you to think it over.”
The door closed with a bang.
“We’ll have to get the police
here right away,” Jack whispered in my ear, his breath brushing my cheek and
sending a delicious shiver through me. “No telling what those scoundrels may
try to do to Atwood. We haven’t a moment to waste.”
“It would take us hours to bring
help here,” I said. “And if we try to use the motorboat, then Dietz and his men
will be warned and flee while we’re on our way down the river.”
“That’s so, but we have to do
something. Any ideas?”
“Yes, I have one,” I answered.
“It may sound pretty crazy. Still, I believe it could work!”
I told Jack my plan from start to
finish, but he didn’t like it one bit.
“It’s dangerous,” he protested.
“And if your hunch about the pool is wrong, we will be in a fix.”
“Of course, but we’ll have to
take a chance to save Atwood.”
“If everything went exactly
according to plan it might work!”
“Let’s try it, Jack. It’s all
quiet in there. Dietz is gone. Lift me up again so I can attract Atwood’s
attention.”
Jack lifted me up, and I tapped
lightly on the iron bars. Thomas Atwood started and turned his head, then got
up from the bed and stumbled toward the window.
“Who is it?” he whispered.
“A friend.”
“Can you get me out of here?”
“We’re going to try. Are you
constantly handcuffed?”
“Yes, and my captor keeps the key
in his pocket. The room outside is always guarded. Did you bring an implement
to saw through the bars?”
“No, we have another scheme in
mind. But you must do exactly as we tell you.”
“Yes, yes!”
“Listen closely,” I said. “When
your captor comes back tell him you have decided to talk.”
“I know nothing about the cache
of gold,” Atwood protested.
“That doesn’t matter. Tell your
captor that the hiding place is on the Furstenberg estate.”
“That would only involve Cybil
and Mrs. Furstenberg. I’ll do nothing to get them into trouble.”
“You’ll have to obey instructions, or no one can help you,” I said. “Would you prefer that those cruel men carry out their threat? They’ve threatened to spirit Cybil away and try to force the truth from her. Tell your captor that the gold is hidden in a specially constructed vault lying beneath the lily pool.”
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