The Labyrinth of Blue Towers:
The Disappearance of Jack Arneson
(A Sewing Box Mystery)
Chapter 1: Friday, June 10, 2011, 7:21 pm
Chapter 2: Saturday, June 11, 2011, 8:38 am
Chapter 3: Thursday, June 28, 1984, 10:10 am
Chapter 12: Saturday, June 18, 2011, 8:00 am
Chapter 23: Sunday, June 19, 2011, 12:39 am
After turning on the television, Missy flopped her body on top of her bed. The room felt stuffy and smelled of something...curry? It seemed exotic and inappropriate. Jeanette was huffing and puffing about, packing her stuff in the plastic bags she’d gotten from their trip to Shopko. Missy didn’t know how to tell her, but they weren’t going anywhere. Having a warrant issued for their arrest was not the kind of souvenir she wanted to bring home from this trip.
Staring at the ceiling, she willed her eyes to close, but the thoughts running through her head forbade it. Instead, she allowed them to go out of focus and the voices to simply flow The pit of her stomach felt hollow. She hated the way she’d left it with Peter, but he seemed to be in a hurry to return to The Sleep Inn, so maybe he didn’t even notice the cold shoulder she gave him. The fact that he seemed so at home in that kind of environment bothered Missy to no end. Maybe that is what Adam the admin had been trying to warn her about. But then, Adam was there, too. “I wonder what kind of act Adam’s boyfriend Patrick was going to do in the show?” she wondered aloud
“Huh?” Jeanette clearly had not been paying attention to her at all. Her aunt stopped what she was doing for a moment. The sound of the television filled the room and Jeanette seemed to notice for the first time that it was on. In a kind of sleep-deprived stupor, she sat on the end of her bed. “What are we watching?”
Missy raised her head up to check the screen. “Looks like that cop show with whatshername... she’s married to Kevin Bacon.”
They watched as the detectives on the show pointed to various photos mounted on a large white board. Each of the photos had a piece of red yarn connecting them to another photo of a person or a piece of evidence. The yarn made Missy think of the old-fashioned illustrations with the metal eyeleted holes which she used to thread yarn through as a child. The detectives on the T.V. made solving a crime look like a game children would play. Suddenly a light bulb went on in her head. She sat up with a shot.
“You bought post-it notes at Shopko today, didn’t you?”
Jeanette, slack-jawed, turned to her niece, “What?”
“The post-it notes. Gimme.” Missy scooted her butt off the end of her bed and held out her hand, her fingers beckoning with urgency. Jeanette rolled her eyes and rummaged through one of the plastic shopping bags at her feet. “Here,” she said, as she handed her niece the huge packet of multi-colored post-it notes. Missy ripped the cellophane wrapper open causing the two dozen individual packets to fly about the room. “Hey,” protested Jeanette, but it was too late. They were everywhere. “I’m not picking those up!”
Missy paid her no attention. “You got a pen or something in that purse of yours? Never mind...” She moved to the desk drawer on the far side of the room, opened it, and found the complimentary pen the hotel provided capped and waiting.
“What are you doing. Missy?” her aunt whined. “Can’t we just go home?”
Missy was already busy writing out the first three post-it notes. “Not really an option. Sorry.” Missy placed the first three post-its on the empty space above the desk. “Get over here and put your thinking cap on. We need to get serious about figuring this out.” Jeanette heaved a heavy sigh, but Missy wasn’t in the mood for her Aunt’s complaints. “Come on, you can sit in this comfy chair.” Missy indicated the floral wingback that sat next to the window. “And turn off that television, it’s distracting.”
“You’re the one who turned it on!” bellowed Jeanette.
'Oops', thought Missy - she’d poked the bear. Placing the post-it notes and pen on the desk, she edged past her aunt, who was still sitting on the end of her bed, picked up the remote, and shut the set off. Looking down, Missy placed a hand on her aunt’s shoulder and calmly asked. “Are you dehydrated? Do you need some water?” Wordlessly, Jeanette nodded.
Missy went to the bathroom sink, filled a glass with tap water, and brought it to her aunt She sat down beside her and began to gently rub her aunt's back as the woman drank.
Missy decided to reason with her. “You’re tired I’m tired I get that, but we have an opportunity to actually contribute something of real value. I need you to remember why we’re here and who we’re doing this for. And I need your help.” Having adopted a gentler tone, this last bit seemed to do the trick. Jeanette turned and looked at her niece, her face softening. Missy continued, “I can’t do this by myself. This is our adventure. This is ours to solve.”
Jeanette nodded affirmatively, got up, went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face. She returned moments later with a second glass of water and took a seat in the floral chair by the window. “Okay, kid Whattya got?”
Missy smiled and sprang to her feet. She pointed at the three post-its she’d already placed on the wall. “Okay, we have three murders.” Then she thought better “Well, two murders and a missing boy.” She turned to face Jeanette. “What I want to figure out is if the two murders could have anything to do with the disappearance of Jack Arneson. It seems that a number of people here are very unhappy about us poking our noses where they supposedly don’t belong.”
Jeanette cut right to the chase. “In your gut, who do you think did it?”
Missy shook her head and rested a butt cheek on the edge of the desk. “I don’t have a sense of it. I mean, that is what doing this,” she indicated the post-its on the wall behind her, “is all about I think we need to sort it all out.”
“So, do you think the two murders are related to one another? If they were done by the same person, then why were they killed in such different ways; one, being execution style and the other so staged and ritualistic?”
Again, Missy shook her head “I don’t buy it. The methods are too dissimilar. And I think Boyd’s murder would have required more than one person to pull off. That set-up was way too elaborate to be accomplished by a single person.”
“Who would want both of these people dead?” Jeanette reached over and grabbed the pen and pad of post-its from the top of the desk. “Start naming possible suspects... or at least people who knew that we were talking to Boyd and Abe and what we were talking to them about.”
“Boyd knew we were going to go talk to Abe Longren,” offered Missy.
Jeanette wrote his name down, rose and placed it under Abe Longren’s name. She then bent and wrote another name. “So did Peter.”
“Peter?” Missy looked injured “You think Peter. ..”
“And you don’t? Really? After tonight?” Jeanette looked at her niece incredulously before placing Peter’s name under Abe’s. “Sorry, kid. But there's something a little off about the man. And everybody else that hangs out at that Sleep Inn.”
Missy rose and pensively moved towards the window. She had to agree Peter’s behavior had surprised her. And the gleeful way he had taken them out to the Monastery? It was like a child showing off a piece of macaroni art. She hated to think of him as a possible suspect, but it seemed she had no choice. “What about an unknown? Someone we haven’t met yet? There seems to be an awful lot of history to this town that we’re not privy to yet.”
“That would imply that somebody was telling other people what we were doing. You know, somebody like... Peter.”
Missy fumed. So that was her choice? She either had to think of Peter as a possible killer or as a snitch? Waitaminute, what? The etch-a-sketch that was her brain shook and erased itself. Snitch? It wasn’t like they’d sworn Peter to secrecy. Missy sank into the floral wingback. Once her weight hit the cushion she became wholly aware of just how exhausted, both mentally and physically, she felt. Why was she reacting this way? So quick to come to come to the defense of a man she hardly knew at all.
Jeanette, intent on the post-its, appeared oblivious to Missy’s inner dilemma. “Between the two of them, I like Boyd for this the most. You remember how he reacted when we told him we were visiting Abe? He could have followed us, parked his vehicle some distance away, come in the back door and been there waiting for Abe to come into the kitchen.”
“But why?”
“Abe worked at the Monastery. What if he was the one diddling little boys?”
“But Boyd accused the Brothers.”
“Sure he did, probably at his father’s or lawyer’s request. It stands to reason. Suing a groundskeeper... you’re not going to get a hell of a lot of money. Suing the Catholic Church? Now there’s your cash cow!” Jeanette sat on the side of her bed, facing Missy.
“But why wouldn’t the Brothers simply hand him over to the police? Why would they protect him?”
“It wasn’t Abe they were interested in protecting. All they cared about is the reputation of the church. Also, it’s a matter of liability. If the molestation took place on the grounds of the Monastery then the church would be tied to the scandal.”
“So the Brothers just hushed it up as soon as possible?”
“Historically, that’s the way the church has dealt with those kinds of situations; sweep it under the rug. If Abe was Boyd’s abuser, then Boyd could have had at least two reasons to want him dead to keep him silent, or to make him pay for what he’d done.”
Missy was puzzled. “Why would Boyd want to keep Abe quiet?”
“Maybe he didn’t want to relive the whole thing. Or maybe he thought he’d have to pay back some of the money.”
Missy was following Jeanette’s reasoning and it seemed solid to her. “Okay, let’s suppose Boyd killed Abe. Then who killed Boyd? And why? Do you think Boyd’s death was in retaliation for the killing of Abe?”
Jeanette rose and moved back to look at the post-its above the desk, as if the answer was there. “Possibly, or for talking to us; the fact that his mouth was sewn shut. Who knew what Boyd had told us? Only one person I can think of...” Jeanette bent and wrote out another post-it and placed it on the wall under Boyd’s name. “Peter.”
Missy felt that same sting. She hated the idea that he could be involved in any of this. “But then why was Boyd killed at the Monastery? Why was he hung over the Oswigs’ tomb? Isn’t it more likely that the Brothers could be involved? Or the Oswig sisters? Everyone seems to hate and fear them for some reason. And who is this Peg Powler person everyone keeps mentioning?”
Jeanette scowled at her niece. Too many questions. However, she had to concede that her niece had raised a number of valid points. “First off, we have no way of knowing where Boyd was actually killed. We only know where his body was found and that someone wanted to make sure that his body was found - otherwise, why wouldn’t have they simply dumped it somewhere more private? The killer - or killers - were sending a message and I think that message might have been for us. To frighten us. Now, the Oswig tomb...” Jeanette began to pace while tapping her index finger on her chin. Obviously she was really getting into this.
“Could have just been a coincidence. Those angel statues may have been the only two objects available that could hold all that weight and position the body in such a way as to make the killer’s vision possible .” Jeanette laughed. “I mean, come on, I seriously doubt that three elderly women would have been able to truss Boyd up like that.”
“Okay, so not the Oswig sisters - although, maybe they could have hired someone. We’re looking for at least a couple of people strong enough to rig that whole scene up, right? What about the Brothers? They certainly know the terrain. And they sure had an axe to grind when it came to Boyd. Maybe Boyd came back looking for more money or something and one of the Brothers snapped and...”
Jeanette stopped pacing. “Yeah. I could see that. I mean, Boyd sure caused them a lot of trouble. But if they were going to exact some kind of revenge on him, why make it so public? Why not just have Boyd disappear?” Jeanette returned to the post-its once more, staring at the wall as she spoke. “Nope. Whoever killed Boyd wanted us to think that the Brothers were involved.” Jeanette wrote down ‘Brothers’ and ‘Oswig Sisters’ and placed the post-its off to the side, far below the others. She then backed away from the wall, as if the extra distance would improve her perspective. “You know, I feel like we’re missing someone; like we haven’t met all the players yet.” She glanced over her shoulder at Missy. “Who else is there?”
Missy rose and went to the desk. “Well...” As she spoke, she wrote the names on post-its and placed them near the bottom of the space on the wall. “Peg Powler - whoever that is. Libby, Libby, Libby - she was at the diner and could have overheard our conversation. She also seems to have some weird hold over Sheriff Paul. Did you see the way he was looking at her while she was dancing?”
Jeanette sank down into the floral chair. “Maybe she helps him buy his bras?” They both laughed.
Before writing the next name. Missy glanced behind her to check with her aunt “Sheriff Paul? You think?”
“Sure, why not? He seems awfully comfortable with the idea of passing these things off as suicides.”
“Maybe he’s lazy?”
“Maybe he has something to cover up. Maybe he’s involved.”
Missy doubted it. She placed his name, and the others she’d just written, down below with the Oswig Sisters and the Brothers. “You think he was being serious? About passing these deaths off as suicides?”
Jeanette smiled. “No. He just has a quirky sense of humor.”
Missy giggled. “That’s one way of putting it.” She turned her attention back to the post-its. Who else? “What about Kathleen Tollefson?”
“Oh!” Jeanette sprang up and ran to retrieve her purse. “Speaking of Kathleen .. we have another thing to cross off our list!” Jeanette pulled the children’s book she’d purloined from Kathleen’s office. “See! Easter Book!” She removed the book from the plastic bag she’d stored it in and brought it over to Missy. “And see here... Taffy!” Sure enough, there, in a child’s scrawl, on the inside of the front cover, in blue crayon, was the word ‘Taffy’.
Missy’s heart skipped a beat. This made no sense. What was Kathleen Tollefson doing with the book from Grandma Jean’s dreams? And who or what was Taffy?
Jeanette returned the book to it’s the plastic bag and sealed it
“So you think Kathleen is involved in this?”
“I think Kathleen’s name can go under Jack’s. This book ties her directly to the list.”
Missy wondered if they were grasping for straws here. “How old do you think she is? She has to be in her late 40’s, early 50’s. I’m thinking she would have been away in college back in... 1984? So, even if this book was related to Jack’s disappearance, she wouldn’t have been around at. the time. Though, I must say, that 'Taffy' thing is a little freaky. I wonder what it means.” With no answer forthcoming from Jeanette, Missy moved on “What else do we have on the list?”
Sitting side by side on Jeanette’s bed, the two reviewed the list item by item, throwing out ideas as they went.
Two, not three - Twin Statues
Missy wondered if that could be a reference to the angels in the cemetery. Or maybe those statues in the gardens outside the Monastery? But what does the ‘two, not three’ refer to? The number of murders?
Triangle-Shaped Blue Glass Ashtray, Chipped
Missy stole one from Abe’s house, only to find out it didn’t have a chip in it. So, close but no banana.
Frontier Cigarettes
Jeanette had some vague memory of these as a brand that had been taken off the market in the mid-1980’s; something about asbestos in the filter, if she remembered correctly. Missy had noticed that Abe was smoking Merit Ultra Light 100’s. He was also the only smoker they’d met so far. Well, except for Boyd, but what he was smoking, neither woman really wanted to know.
Brown, Full-Length Skirt
Missy was pretty sure this referred to the Brothers and their robes, as viewed through the basement windows.
Tredecar MSRE
The furnace. Both Jeanette and Missy agreed that discovering it on the door to the furnace was a little too on-the-nose to be a coincidence. It absolutely linked Grandma Jean’s dream list about Jack’s disappearance to the Monastery.
Jack’s Window
Window of opportunity? Or did Grandma Jean mean one of the window’s in the basement of the Monastery? Like something out of which he would have stared?
Heavy Blonde, Heavy Metal
This one had them stumped. While there was certainly no shortage of heavy blonde’s in St. Petersburg, neither woman could figure out what heavy metal music had to do with anything.
Missing Mallet
Apparently it was still missing, because they hadn’t found it... yet.
Brother’s Bread Matches
So, another definite tie between Grandma Jean’s dreams and the Monastery. But matches? Matches what?
White Delivery Trucks
Again, something that ties the dreams to the Brothers and the Monastery. Peter had told them that they used to have a whole fleet of them before the sex scandal forced them to sell the business.
Chanting Latin
The Brothers? Probably.
St. Peter’s Bird
St Petersburg. Coincidence?
And the last item.
The Labyrinth of Blue Towers
Missy frowned “I sure hope that doesn’t have anything to do with what’s going on in the basement of The Sleep Inn.” She watched Jeanette’s eyes grow as she described what she’d seen. Jeanette thought maybe they were connected, because it seemed to be too dead on to be a mere coincidence. Plus it would tie-in the Oswig sisters. And Sheriff Paul...
And Peter.
Missy was again stumped. “Do you really think Peter could be involved?”
Her aunt shrugged. “We can’t rule anyone out, Missy. You know, I feel like we are missing way too many pieces of the puzzle to...
The phone rang.
Both women nearly jumped out of their skin. Missy moved quickly to the nightstand between the two beds and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
The female voice on the other end was chilly and cryptic. “You have something of mine and I want it back.”
“Kathleen?”
Missy’s inquiry was met with silence.
Instead the caller demanded, “Meet me in front of the Monastery in twenty minutes. I have something to show you. Something that might bring your little ‘scavenger hunt’ to an end. Be sure to bring the book.”
“All right, I think we...” But before Missy had a chance to finish the caller had hung up. Missy returned the phone to the receiver.
Jeanette looked at her with questioning eyes.
“I’m not sure, but I think I just made a date to meet Kathleen Tollefson in front of the Monastery in 20 minutes.”
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Next Week: Chapter 24
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1 comment:
Ohhh so Kathleen knows they have the book.
It's a trap!
And I don't trust Peter. Nope.
XOXO
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