The Legend of Peg Powler
(A Sewing Box Mystery)
Chapter 1: Friday, November 1, 1991, 1:51 am
Chapter 2: Saturday October 29, 2011, 11:37 am
Chapter 3: Sunday October 30, 2011, 10:30 am
Chapter 4, Monday, October 31, 2012, 8:01 am, Halloween
Chapter 13: Monday, October 31, 2011, 11:02 am
Chapter 18 - Monday, October 31, 2011, 1:06 pm
“Man, that was some real biker chick action you pulled back there.” Dorie, whose mood had shifted from freaked out to elated and relieved, was referring to her sister Jeanette’s recent heroics when dealing with that group of protesters. “You are one lady who takes no crap!”
Missy, too had been impressed with her aunt’s handling of the situation, but then, she’d witnessed Jeanette take charge in the past - it simply seemed to be something Jeanette did whenever the chips were down. Was it a matter of nature or something learned, who knew? But it sure came in handy.
Missy was also used to her mother’s sudden changes of mood. Dorie still seemed to flit from emotional landscape to emotional landscape without rhyme or reason. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, something she’d learned while in the company of others whom she’d needed to please.
As of right now, Dorie was the only one talking. Missy and Jeanette remained stoically mute, their wary eyes melded to a place in front of them in the not-so-distant future. For Missy, it was a necessity; she had so much to sort out before they talked to this man, Arthur. Given what they’d just endured, her willingness to engage with unpleasant people was ebbing toward an all-time low. But, first things first…
They had to actually find this place - The Hall of Records.
As they drove around the circular drive which surrounded City Hall, she was once again struck by how much it reminded her of the seeing the Disneyland castle for the first time. But this ‘castle’ had morphed and twisted itself like a predatory vine complete with thorns. Malignant and foreboding, the clay-based stone’s aberrant facade was only broken by its many oddly-placed windows of various sizes which, struck by daylight, shined back at them like the eyes of mysterious animals watching silently behind the protection of an impenetrable thicket.
They parked in the same spot they had previously. Odd. It was such a massive building, yet there never seemed to be many visitors. As they entered the main lobby, Missy glanced in the direction of the Oswig museum, fighting the temptation to find it’s curator and apologize. The museum contained so many clues to this town’s past, it would be a shame if was no longer available as a resource. But all that would have to wait; right now they were on a different mission, one with a bit of a time crunch. Missy scanned the walls for some kind of directory, something which indicated what floor they might find this hall of records on, but there was nothing. Instead, her eyes met those of the brooding white men captured in portraits from various eras. Their eyes bore down upon her in a disapproving manner, making her feel about as welcome as a skunk at a picnic.
“Why don’t I pop in and ask that nice man at the museum where it is?” suggested Dorie, who, unused to doing for anything for herself or dealing with frustration of any kind, was only all too willing to place her needs in the hands of others.
“Absolutely not,” shot Jeanette. “You leave that man alone. He’s made it very clear he doesn’t want anything to do with us.” Missy was relieved. She and Jeanette were on the same page.
“But he’s right there,” whined Dorie.
“Dorie, you screwed the pooch there, that door is closed to us. Look for another.”
Dorie grew incredulous. “I? Me? How did I screw things up?” she screeched, her voice reverberating in the vastness of the cold-surfaced lobby.
“Stop!” hissed Missy. “That’s it. No more.” She looked from mother to aunt with a face that meant business, as she pointed a finger at both the women. “I have had it with the bickering.” She turned to her aunt and said plaintively, “We have a tight timeline here, especially if you want to get back in time for your Halloween party. So let’s focus on the task at hand and leave the nonsense for another time.” Then, with big inhale of breath, she looked at her mother, “And you? Mom, you just showed up out the blue. We had a day planned here; things to do. Stop making things more difficult.” Missy could see her words effect in her mother’s eyes; they stung, so she softened a bit. “Look, I don’t know what you’re going through or what you’re going to do or what you’re even doing here for that matter. We’ll talk about that on the trip back to the cities, but for right now, please… just… stop. Okay?”
Dorie’s mouth pulled into a tight knot, as her eyes had grew large with hurt, causing Missy to abandon her rant. Instead, she tried an appeal to both parties, “Guys. I know you’re sisters, with a history. I never had that, so maybe I don’t understand, but let’s give it a rest for the rest of the day, okay? I need for us all to be rowing in the same direction, here. And you two, taking swipes at each other all the time… not helping!”
This last bit seemed to register with both women. One looked to the other. There was a knowing there which Missy assumed had to do with being siblings, something, as an only child, seemed as foreign to her as the peculiar spirit which permeated the town whose city hall they now stood in.
“Okay, what now?” demanded Jeanette. “There doesn’t seem to be a map or anything. How the hell are we supposed to find this room?”
Missy, grateful to be moving forward, stepped toward the massive archway in front of them. “Well, there are two sets of stairs. Let’s… start with those.” She turned back to her cronies for some type of consent, but was instead met with resistance.
“Isn’t there an elevator?” Dorie looked to her feet. “With these heels? Come on?”
“Take them off,” ordered Jeanette, as she moved through the vast archway and began ascending the set of marble steps to the left. “There, problem solved.”
Dorie’s face stretched as if to protest, but then she thought about it, shrugged her shoulders and did as she was told. With the straps of her designer heels caught in the crook of a finger, slung them over one of her shoulders and, barefooted, followed Jeanette up the steps.
Missy took the ones to the right. There were, actually, doors and hallways behind and on either side of the stairs which they could have explored, but the giant stained glass window which was illuminated by the day’s sun, standing sentinel between the staircases, seemed to beckon her upwards. She meandered through a series of hallways and doorways on the second landing, frequently finding herself trapped on an ornately carved balcony or staircase which led nowhere. This was true of the third floor as well. Had she had the time, she would have liked to marvel at the intricacies in the various carvings and woodwork, but she felt the need to press on, though with each dead end, her energies waned. If Jeanette and Dorie were having any better luck, they certainly weren’t being very vocal about it. The thought gave Missy pause, perhaps they shouldn’t have split up.
Returning to the main stairs, she caught sight of her mother, who gave a quick wave before disappearing through a darkened doorway on the fourth floor. The sight of her gave Missy a sense of peace as she continued her way upward. There, through an alcove which she only caught sight of after exploring the rest of yet another lengthy hallway, she spied a wooden door with rippled, yellowed glass embossed with gold lettering which read, ‘Hall Of Records’. Relieved, she felt her heart jump with anticipation. She hustled back to the main set of stairs and, not knowing what else to do, and, as if testing the waters, squeaked out, “Marco?” The name reverberated throughout the chamber. Deciding that it didn’t sound so bad and with a great deal less intimidation, she repeated herself, “Marco?” This time with a note of urgency, for the clock was ticking.
Again, a sense of relief infused her torso, when she heard, from the depths of some recess on the other side of the building, her aunt bellow, “Polo!” Both Jeanette and Dorie, from different doorways, reappeared on the opposite stairs.
“But how do we get over there?” Jeanette asked, obviously dreading the thought of walking down three flights of stairs, only to have to walk up another three.
“There’s a short-cut on the third floor,” replied Dorie. “Come on, I’ll show you. It’s like a cat walk.” As she began descending, her mother gave Missy another wave. “See you on the other side, hon!”
Grumbling, Jeanette followed and within moments the pair reappeared on the other side of the building and made their way up the steps.
“Wow, this place is nuts. Did you guys run into all sorts of dead ends? It’s like they were building the stairway to heaven, but kept getting lost,” babbled Dorie. “I mean, this place belongs in… that book of world records for being so ridiculous. It’s huge. And so…” Her hands flapped at the wrist as she gestured all about her, “I dunno, it just makes no sense.”
“I would think you’d be used to that sort of thing by now, Dorie.”
Dorie glanced at Jeanette. “Huh?”
Missy gave her aunt a stern look of warning. Picking up on it, Jeanette mumbled a bit before coming out with, “Big buildings. Like this… I’m sure you’ve seen a lot of cool buildings during your travels.”
Dorie made a face. “You mean tourist stuff? Oh, gawk, no, never. That stuff… that’s for amateurs.”
With a clap of her hands, Missy got the attention of the dueling sisters, “Okay. Yay. We’re all together again,” she said pragmatically. “The Hall Of Records is tucked over here.” She made a move to head in the direction of the found alcove, when she stopped abruptly. “And everyone… and I do mean everyone… please be on your best behavior.”
“Oh, you know I will,” offered Dorie, saucily.
“Yep, that’s what we’re afraid of…” murmured Jeanette.
Standing pensively in front of the door, Missy looked at the other women. “Do we knock, or just go right in?” She needn’t have asked, for Jeanette simply grabbed hold of the door knob and gave it a twist.
“Hello? Anybody home?” Jeanette was adopting her clueless lady persona. Missy had seen this in action a number of times during their first trip to St. Petersburg, and anytime she had to deal with her older sister, Helen. Missy thought it most effective. “Hello?”
The room was a bit of a surprise; it was in total disarray. Had a robbery of some kind taken place? Did someone break in and rifle through all the files? There were papers and bookshelves everywhere. Stacks of folders with documents spilling out dotted the landscape, causing the administrative assistant in Missy to question who was going to clean up this mess?. The space was dominated by a tall, oversized desk which stood at its center, an almost exact replica to the one used as the main desk at the public library. Behind it , a series of narrow floor-to-ceiling windows back-lit the room, lending it a golden, yellow-tinged glow. Dust motes floated in the air, catching the light from the windows, causing Missy think of dandelion or milkweed seeds being carried on the wind.
A loud sneeze erupted from behind a bookshelf on the left side of the room.
“May I help you?” Emerging from behind the shelves rolled a cart stacked high with an imposing mountain of filled file folders which threatened to topple over with each step forward. Manning the cart, was, assumed Missy and her companions, the man known as Arthur. He was short, and round as he was tall. Advanced in years, his hair was little more than an eagle’s nest of white fluff with a slightly luminous tint of orange. Handkerchiefs bloomed like failed lilies from every pocket available, pants - front and back, vest, and shirt; he even had one tucked in the sleeve of his starched white shirt. He was perspiring profusely, but had a smile on his ruddy-cheeked face which matched the twinkle in his eyes which shone like a pair of deep-set berries. “I’m here to help. Help you with whatever you need. That’s my purpose. To be of help. Let me know what I can do for you. I’m more than happy to help.” With that, he parked the cart in front of the towering desk and quickly climbed the steps on it’s right side before disappearing from view.
In his wake, nonplussed, the three women eyed one another. Who was going to ask? Without moving, and with her eyes still on the others, Jeanette tried a different tact, “Arthur? Arthur, is that you?”
Silence fell upon the room, followed by the sound of rustling paper before suddenly the man’s head appeared, looming over them from behind the front edge of the giant desk. His voice was quite tiny as he made eye contact with Jeanette for the first time, “Who told you I was Arthur? Hmm? Tell me.” He dramatically unfurled one of his hankies, furiously mopping his forehead with it before using it to stifle another explosive sneeze.
“Bless you.”
“Not in this lifetime, sister. Now what is it you ladies need?” All of this was said in the same strained jovial manner which lit up his face.
“Information.”
“Information? Information, you say? Well, why didn’t you say so? We have so much information. Why, if you’re looking for information than you have indeed come to the right place. Why there’s some information over there,” he pointed, indicating the area he’d just come from, “and there, and over there, and a huge stack of it right over there. Feel free to help yourselves and if you have any questions, why that is what I am here for. Simply ask away.”
Jeanette looked to Missy and Jeanette, as if to say, ‘what the hell?’ But she then carried on, “I’m sorry to be a bother…”
“Bother? No bother? No bother, here.”
“...but we’re looking for some information about some specific people and certain dates.”
“Oh, that seems reasonable. Most reasonable. We have plenty of information about specific people and certain dates.”
“Can you help us find it?”
The man’s eyes blinked at them in silence for two beats, before his head disappeared behind the desk, which was rapidly followed by the sound of rustling papers, footsteps, and the man muttering something under his breath. Stomping his way down the staircase on the right side of the desk, he stopped dead in his tracks on the bottom step. Perhaps he had chosen to do so in order to gain some sort of advantage, though it rendered none, for the women, who were all of very average height, still stood a head taller.
Looking at them like a schoolmaster instructing students, he explained, “My dears, as you can see, I have an incredible amount of work to do - so very far behind am I. History waits for no man and that is precisely what I am dealing with here, history.” With this, he once again pointed toward the area he had originally appeared from, “There’s a stack of history over there, there’s a pile of history over here, why, on this cart before me, there’s so much history I am unable to manage it all. But,” And with this the smile on his face turned hard and just a tad menacing, “What I am not able to manage is the occasional tourist who finds there way to my office in the hopes of learning more about their ancestry or a loved one, or for a name to fill in a line on their family tree. No. No, I am not able to manage that. So, unless you are willing and able to fend for yourselves, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. Now, feel free to look around, but don’t touch anything. It may seem a bit of a mess at the moment, but there is an order to everything here and everything is in it’s place and so it should be when that door hits your ample backsides on the way out.” He paused to see if his words had registered before turning heel and striding back up the steps to his roost.
That’s when it all fell into place for Missy. Years of hiding away in isolation among these piles of papers in this antiquated building had affected this man’s mind, for he? He was clearly bonkers. She looked at the mess of papers lying about and felt more than a bit overwhelmed. What was the point? Where would they start? Why should they bother? She then looked at her aunt and mother, who had also been looking about the room probably thinking the same thing, and surrendered, saying, “Let’s… let’s just go. We’re not going to find anything here.”
“Not so fast.” Dorie stopped Missy and Jeanette with a raised index finger. “You two,” as she spoke, she began putting on her heels, “you two take a look around. You never know, you might find something.” She then ran her fingers through he hair before giving her head a shake. “Give me a few seconds alone with dear Arthur.”
“Not on your life,” interjected Jeanette. “Dorie, don’t do anything stupid.”
“Yeah, Mom,” pleaded Missy, “We’ve already gotten kicked out of one place today. ”
“Hush. Both of you. I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s what we’re afraid of,” implored Jeanette. “Let’s not provoke the wrath of the leader of The Lollipop Guild, okay? Come on, let’s go.”
“You two can go where you please, but I’ve…” and with this she did a slight adjustment of her clothing around her hips, “…got some information to find.” She moved to the bottom of the stairs on the right side of the desk and called up, “Arthur? Arthur, can I speak with you a moment? Please?”
A muffled ‘hmph’ sounded from atop the desk, followed by the rustling of papers and the man’s heavy footsteps padding toward the steps. When he appeared at the top of the steps, Dorie threw her head back, giving motion to her lustrous mane. Her hand moved instinctively to her throat, as if to touch a set of pearls around her neck as she fixed the diminutive administrator with a coy, come-hither smile. As Arthur began his decent, using the hand which still touched her throat, she looked sideways and deftly waved Missy and Jeanette to step away.
Jeanette, rolling her eyes, cooperated, strolling over to the right side of the room,where she picked up a stack of papers to which she paid only the slightest of attention, while keeping an eagle eye on her sister’s every move. Missy, sauntered to the left, to do the same. She managed to find a spot with a perfect view of what was going, yet far enough away so as to not intrude in the slightest.
Arthur would only come midway down the stairs. With Dorie standing at their base and using the staircase’s banister as a sort of tether, it was like watching an oddly cast version of the famous balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. The woman was slowly unveiling her arsenal, as she slyly moved her head about, enticing and conjoling. Missy couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying to him, for Dorie kept her voice husky and low, probably in an effort to get the man to move closer toward her. Whatever she said, it worked! Arthur’s pudgy little face suddenly opened wide with a kind of interest, with his feet swiftly moving him to a few steps from the bottom, stopping on exactly the right step so he ended up face to face with the lithe Dorie.
A guttural noise escaped Jeanette’s throat, as she shot Missy a dubious look before moving on to another pile of papers, her back now to the proceedings. But Missy’s eyes remained glued. She wasn’t sure what she was witnessing, but it struck her that her mother seemed so in control, so powerful, so confident. Maybe whatever it was the woman possessed skipped a generation, because Missy certainly hadn’t inherited it. From what she could surmise, Dorie was doing nothing shady; the occasional touch to his shirt sleeve, a toss of the head, an alluring laugh. But nothing overtly sexual, simply charming like the hostess of a fancy cocktail party in an old black and white film. All that was missing was a formal gown, a tuxedo and a couple of frequently refilled martini glasses.
Not more than seven or eight minutes had passed when Arthur, after nodding enthusiastically and bending at the waist, as if to confess something to his newly found conversational confident, headed back up the stairs to return to his desk. When, a moment later he reappeared at the top of the stairs, it was quite obvious that he’d retrieved something - a stack of files. With a broad smile, he carefully made his way down the steps and handed the files to Dorie. He then pointed toward the door, explaining something to her, to which she vigorously nodded her head while thanking him profusely. Arthur remained on the steps, watching as Dorie strode off toward Missy, with a smitten look still painting his doughy mug.
“I got the goods,” triumphantly crowed Dorie. “There’s a study across the hall from here. He said we can go through this stuff in there. But he locks up at 5:00 pm sharp, and the files have to be returned before then.”
Missy’s eyes moved between the stack of papers to her mother’s face. What just happened here?
As if sensing her daughter’s question, “Look, the guy’s lonely.” Sensing that she’d failed to address the question in Missy’s eyes, Dorie offered up more. “He’s also allergic to dust and mold and is terrified if anyone finds out he’ll lose his job. I suggested he start using a neti pot, you know, those little elephant pots you fill with warm water and a salt solution and pour through your nose to gain some relief. Paulo had to use them all the time, but for a different reason, if you know what I mean.” She paused just long enough to make a sort of ‘snort-snort’ sound and congratulate herself on her little joke, before continuing, “Arthur said he’d never heard of it, can you believe that? Never heard of a neti pot? And before you know it, he’s telling me how our dear friends Darlene and Madeline gave him a call to warn him we were coming and what we were looking for.” Lowering her voice, she added, “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted those two,” before returning to her triumphant recitation, “As we were walking in, he’d just finished grabbing the last of files we’d most likely need and…,” and with this, she pushed the pile of files into Missy’s chest, forcing her daughter to take possession of them, “Here they are! All yours now, kiddo. Let’s get cracking!”
Dorie turned to make her way to the door, but instead came face-to-face with Jeanette. The two locked eyes with one another and Missy was all set to break up yet another fight when Jeanette, somewhat begrudgingly, quietly said, “Good job, Dorie.”
The three quickly made their way out, and as Dorie closed the door behind them, she gave Arthur a tiny, coquettish wave good-bye.
Once on the other side of the closed door, Jeanette turned to her sister and asked, “How did you know he had the files?”
Dorie simply shrugged and said, “Women’s intuition, I guess.” She moved to the door on the opposite side of the alcove and gallantly opened it with a flourish.
But Jeanette wasn’t done. “And how did you know not to trust those two women.”
Dori looked at her sister hard, as if debating to share something she knew. But then her face broke out into a wide smile as she dismissively shared, “Men? Men are easy. You identify what’s wrong with them and you become part of the solution. But women?” She offered up the flat of her one palm as if to say ‘my hand to god’, “You gotta watch out for women.” She gestured for Jeanette and Missy to proceed through the open door like doorman at a fancy hotel, before adding…
“For they will bite you in the ass every time.”
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1 comment:
Awesomeness.
But that seduction scene? Priceless.
XOXO
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