“Boss, we need to get a handle on this newspaper thing. Just look.” How did this kid always appear out of nowhere? Denny shoved a newspaper at Jasper’s nose.
Clamping Stosch’s file under his arm, Jasper swatted the paper back. “Come, Denny, I can’t read anything so close. What are you blabbering on about?”
The boy thrust a finger at one of the articles.
Sabotage At Rudin Factory!
McCracken no doubt. Jasper thrust the paper back at Denny. “Read aloud as we walk.”
The kid fell into step beside him with the newspaper folded to the article. “‘Anonymous informants have advised the press of a suspected sabotage at the Rudin Sugar Factory earlier this week. The source claims human hair was planted in one of the crystallizing machines. Although the extent of the contamination is unclear, it is certain that foul play is involved. Personnel remained at the factory until late into the night salvaging the damage. Rudin Company declined to comment, but they have assigned a detective to the case.’”
“The nerve. Lord, help me. I might jar McCracken’s marbles so hard he can never gather them again.”
Denny nudged him with an elbow. “Easy now, he hasn’t done anything illegal. It’s all fact.”
“Legal, maybe, but certainly unethical. And after I specifically told him not to—” Wait. How did McCracken know which machine had been affected? He must have heard from that post boy again. Jasper’s nails dug into his palms. “I told him to call me.”
Jasper threw open the newspaper office door. The bang against the side of the building made the girl behind the desk jump. She whirled around from hanging tinsel, and her face went pale. “I tried to tell him, detective.”
“New correspondence from your anonymous informant, I assume. When?”
She lifted a trembling hand to push a strand of stringy hair behind her ear. “Two days ago. McCracken took the boy into his office and spoke to him behind the closed door.”
Jasper handed Denny the file from under his arm, pivoted, and charged for the reporter’s office. The door opened, and McCracken leaned against the doorjamb. “Ah, I’ve been expecting you.”
The challenging smirk was too much. Jasper shoved him back into the office, hardly giving Denny enough time to slip in behind him before he slammed the door. “You rat, I told you to contact me if you heard anything more, not publish it on the front page.”
“You can’t blame me if the leads come to me instead of you.”
Gripping McCracken’s shoulder, Jasper pinched. The man let out a yelp and dropped into the chair Jasper occupied during his last visit. He must have brought it in for that post boy. “No games, McCracken. What did the boy say? Who was he?”
“Kid was paid off by some fellow downtown. He was next to useless besides the note he carried with the few specifics you hadn’t provided.”
He released his grip on the man’s shoulder. “Where is the note?”
The paper McCracken pulled from his pocket was as rumpled as his shirt. At least he’d kept it handy this time instead of losing it in his wreckage of a desk.
Jasper studied the note. He’d printed it almost word for word in the paper. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but he could analyze it, compare it with employee signatures.
“Did you get any information on the boy? Name? Address? Where he was commissioned to deliver this?”
“He wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“Precisely why you should have called me. Details, people. Details.” He got tired of saying that. When would people learn?
McCracken’s round cheeks flushed. “You think you could have done better?”
Oh please. He didn’t have time for this.
“Detectives have a little more authority to draw from, that’s all.” Denny smiled at the reporter. “I’m sure you did a fine job with the boy and tried everything you could to get answers.”
Jasper cast a scowl over his shoulder. Which side was his protégé on anyway?
Denny shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “The man might have told him to say nothing else to you, but the presence of an official might have scared it out of him.”
McCracken’s thick shoulders shrugged. “Maybe. But I doubt it.”
“What else?” Jasper couldn’t help the snap in his tone. The man was plain daft to let the boy slip through his fingers.
The reporter folded his arms. “Have more than you show, and speak less than you know.”
Closing his eyes, Jasper counted to ten. But he was still ready to level the man when he opened them again. His hand fisted, ready to punch the lip that poked out like a defiant child’s.
“You’re an admirer of Shakespeare, Mr. McCracken?” Denny’s dimple deepened. “Then consider, too, ‘Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides; who cover faults, at last shame them derides.’ Hide your information from us, and my mentor here is sure to suspect you played a part in this crime. Or you could join forces with us. You’re a smart man. But three smart men are better than one. Wouldn’t it be nice to publish an article in which the detective of Rudin Sugar Company gave special mention and thanks to Mr. McCracken for his brilliant actions and assistance in solving the case?”
Brilliant was one word that should never have been used together with this man’s name, but McCracken’s next words kept Jasper from saying so.
“I followed the kid when he left. Seems he’s a regular delivery boy at Lowell Pharmacy on Seventeenth Street.”
“What did he look like?” Denny’s head cocked to one side.
“Short. Brown hair. Tiny nose with a slight upturn.”
With a snap of his fingers, Denny pointed. “I know the very one. Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.” Denny caught Jasper’s arm and tugged him toward the door. “We’ll have to chat with the boy right away. Have a wonderful day, sir.”
Jasper planted his feet. He wasn’t about to let Denny drag him out. He opened his mouth to scold the boy, but then Denny gave him a wink. “You’re absolutely right, detective. It’s exactly as you thought all along. This is going to be the case of the century.”
What was the kid talking about? Jasper’s frown deepened, but he held his tongue this time.
“Wait just a moment.” McCracken shot out of the chair. “What had he thought? What makes it the case of the century?”
Denny flicked his hand. “Why should we bother to tell you when you don’t even keep in touch? We do like to have reporters on our side, but we’ll have to find one who’s more cooperative. Lead the way, Detective Hollock.”
The expression contorting McCracken’s face brought a smirk to Jasper’s. He couldn’t help it. Chomping down hard on his lip to keep from spoiling Denny’s effect, he headed toward the door with Denny right behind him.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Jasper could bear it no longer. A chuckle slipped out. “What was that all about?”
“‘The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief.’” Denny’s British accent was pathetic. “Another Shakespeare line.”
Jasper tugged back Stosch’s file. He still needed to return it. “Is it Miss Leslie filling your head with such nonsense?”
Denny laughed outright. “You bet.”
Jasper gave him an elbow in the ribs.
When they were out of sight of the door, Denny grabbed his arm and edged him into the alley, pressing a finger to his lips. He hunkered down, motioned for Jasper to follow, and crept along the side of the wall until they crouched beneath a window. As they stilled, muffled voices became audible from the other side.
“They clearly know more than they’re telling me, but they won’t say a word.” McCracken’s huffy tone. “Onerous detectives. This is why I hate their sort.”
“If you’d listened to me and called them, they might give you first claim to the story. Now they’ll give it to someone else just to spite you.”
Either a bear from the circus had found its way into the office, or McCracken had a terrible growl.
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“Oh, I’ll keep in touch. I’ll fill his line with calls, stalk him if I need to. Besides, I didn’t spill all my information, either. They’ll be back to speak to me.”
Chapter Eleven
Jasper hated waiting, even for an important appointment. He glanced up at the clock ticking above a Christmas tree glistening beneath the silver tinsel thrown over it. The decoration seemed out of place in the bare waiting room of the Pinkerton Agency. Thirty minutes and this hard-backed chair was getting uncomfortable. At least he’d anticipated the wait and brought something productive to do. He thumbed through the dashed file he still needed to return to Miss Leslie’s office. He’d been procrastinating, part of him hoping he’d find another clue if he went through it enough times. With only ten days left, he’d hardly slept this week.
“The director will see you now, Hollock.” The Pinkerton secretary waved Jasper toward James’s office.
“Thank you.” The secretary nodded before the door shut. Jasper faced the large desk, not too different from Mr. Rudin’s. Cigar smoke was thick in the little room, causing Jasper’s throat to tighten. Had James really painted the walls that drab brownish color? Or was it a result of the smoke?
“Well, hello, Hollock. It’s been an age.”
James McParland had less hair than Jasper remembered—probably due to the stress his job entailed. Being the director of the Pinkerton Detective office in Denver couldn’t be an easy task. Shadowed eyes peered from behind wire spectacles that curled over ears seemingly too small for his head, and he sported the same old mustache, also similar to Mr. Rudin’s.
“It has. How are you, James?”
“As well as can be expected, I suppose. Have a seat.” He thrust a thick finger at the single chair upholstered with the same horrid brown color. “How are you faring at Rudin Company?”
“Well.” The chair creaked as Jasper eased into it. He sat forward, hoping it wouldn’t cave in on him. “Until recently. I’ve come upon a problem I’m having difficulty with, and I thought you might be able to help.”
“With your knack, I’m surprised you need it.” James’s eyes twinkled, as if he remembered their first meeting more than five years ago when Jasper interned with the police department. “What can I do for you?”
“Had any run-ins with the Wobblies lately?”
With his thumb and index finger, James stroked his graying mustache. “Not anything worth noting. They persist in their same old schemes, but nothing violent. I take it you suspect them of the tampering going on at your factory?”
He must have seen the paper. Jasper twisted a button on his vest. “Whoever it is covered their tracks pretty well. I have some random facts, but piecing them together hasn’t brought any conclusions yet. I’m missing a vital piece, and I’m not even sure what that piece is.”
“Remember, every observation may be important. Don’t overlook anything.”
“Details…I know. How could I forget your proverb? You might as well draw it up to be your epitaph.”
James chuckled. “Let’s hope I don’t need one too soon.”
“Have you been acquainted with a reporter by the name of McCracken?”
Back to the mustache rubbing. “McCracken. Sure sounds familiar. Oh yes. The chubby fellow who likes to get in everyone’s business. He’s got a bit of a nose, though. Not anything like yours, but a talent. Thought about offering to train him.”
“How much meddling can someone like that get away with before I can ask the authorities to intervene?”
The director chuckled and straightened a stack of paper on his desk. “Bothering you that much, is he?”
Jasper tugged his vest and cleared his throat. How did the fellow breathe in this room? “He has denied my request to contact me when he receives more information and instead takes it straight to print without verifying any facts.”
“Sounds like a reporter all right. I suppose you can bluff him pretty far, but you’d have to have some proof to get him behind bars. Has he published anything faulty?”
“Not quite…though very close.”
“You’re stuck, then.” James opened a desk drawer and pulled out a cigar box. “Smoke?”
“No, thank you.”
With a shrug, he replaced the box. “Now about these Wobblies. They’ve gained a lot of ground in the past year. Winning the free speech fights has emboldened them. Annoying as they are, they seem to be gaining members.”
A fact Jasper well knew. Though he didn’t understand it. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Do you think they’re capable of sabotaging the companies that aren’t giving in to their union rules?”
“Of course. What clues do you have that point to them?”
“Motivation, first off. I don’t know of anyone else who would intend to harm Mr. Rudin and his business, but he’s a fierce opponent of the IWW doctrine. The incidents have to be an employee, which I imagine is a member, or close to one. Mr. Rudin’s secretary, Mr. Stosch, is linked with them.”
James shrugged. “Sounds like you’ve got a decent sniff on it then. All you have to do is link the crimes to the secretary. Or catch him in the act. That’d be better.” His gaze studied Jasper. “Why are you unsure of your conclusion?”
“I’ve found nothing at the scene to point to Stosch except his links to the Wobblies.” Jasper held up the file with Stosch’s name.
“Does it point to someone else?”
Jasper squeezed his eyes shut, replaying as many of the pictures as he could. “I don’t know. Yet.”
“It sounds as though you’re on the right track. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. Want me to send someone to scare McCracken?”
“Don’t tempt me.” Jasper stood and extended a hand. “Thanks for your time. It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise. Stop in again. I like to see how you’re getting along. I’ll follow your case in the papers.”
Jasper offered a sarcastic salute and let himself out. He wasn’t sure if his time for the meeting was well spent, but spent it was. Hopefully, Denny’s errand was more productive. If he’d found the kid McCracken received messages from, perhaps he gained a clue or two.
He caught a trolley and hopped off in front of the factory. His long strides carried him to the employment department. Miss Leslie was not to be seen, so he slipped around her desk, hoping to return the folder before she returned. He opened the file drawer and dropped it inside, closing the drawer with a quiet thud.
When he turned, he scowled at her desk. The scent of peppermint wafted from the bulky candy canes weighting down her stack of typing paper. Everything was neat and tidy, except for several scraps of paper propped up against the wall on the right side. Manger scene drawings from children, he supposed. But which ones? Mrs. Yale and Denny had mentioned nieces and nephews. Or the orphans. Strange. Keeping children’s scribble seemed too sentimental for the office troll Miss Leslie appeared to be.
Tearing his gaze away, he headed toward the main entrance. He’d wait for Denny there.
“Boss, there you are.” Denny huffed as he sprinted up to him. “Mr. Rudin’s in a tizzy. A machine has broken down, and he’s sure it’s going to take weeks to get it fixed. You’ve got to help him calm down.”
How could things always go from bad…to worse…to much worse? His boots thundered against the wood as Jasper hurried after Denny. “What about your errand. Did you find the boy?”
“Yes, but the man he described didn’t sound familiar.”
He’d have to get the rest of the facts later. For now, he had to deal with Mr. Rudin.
“What do you mean you can’t fix it? Do you know what this will do to our production?” Mr. Rudin’s raised voice met him down the hall.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Rudin, I will do the best I can.” Poor Charlie wrung his hands. “We have to find the part, and I can’t control how long that takes.”
“Stosch, get the machine manufacturer on the telephone for me now.” Mr. Rudin stormed back toward his office, leaving
Charlie holding a wrench.
Jasper raised a brow. “Bad as all that?”
Charlie shrugged. “This one and the one on the end seem to have come loose of a couple bolts. Without them, the machine won’t operate at all. Having two of the four not working will cut our production until I can get it fixed.”
These giant machines always intimidated Jasper. But he stepped closer and peered at the large bowl and paddle held in place by three nuts and bolts. Strange. None of the other nuts on the machine seemed loose. “Go ahead and tighten the rest of the bolts to make sure none of them come off, too.”
“Sure will, detective.” Charlie put the wrench he was holding to use.
Hmm. Jasper circled the machine. “How did they discover the problem?”
“There was an obstruction just before everyone left for the evening. They called me in to fix it. When I tried to restart the machine, it wasn’t right. I shut it off quick as I could until I found the bolts missing. Naturally, I told Mr. Rudin right away.”
“Where was the obstruction?” Jasper bent to search beneath the machine.
Charlie motioned to the tub of the boiler machine. “The bowl got gummed up and stopped the paddle.”
“I see.” Jasper scanned the remainder of the room but gathered no more clues. He’d best get to Mr. Rudin. “Have a good evening, Charlie.”
The janitor saluted with the wrench as Jasper strode toward his employer’s office, with Denny at his heels.
“Do you think the breakdown is related to the case? Seems awful strange, being so sudden.”
“A wonderful observation, young Denny. Keep your eyes and ears open, and you’ll learn a lot.”
Mr. Rudin’s voice came through the closed door when they reached his office. “Can’t you get it here any faster? Do you know what a couple little nuts will do to my business?” A long pause. “That’s better. Thank you.… Yes, I appreciate it.… Very good. Thanks again.” The receiver clicked into place. “That’s how it’s done, Mr. Stosch. They’ll have the missing parts here by the end of the week. Now let’s figure out how we’re going to keep up production with half of our machines down in the meantime. Ask Miss Leslie to meet me, please.”
Solve by Christmas Page 8
