The three crossed the street just as a carriage turned the corner. Bill flagged it down and the three men quickly climbed in.
“Where to sir?” called out the heavyset man almost buried beneath a layer of horse blankets and topped with snow.
“Just wait here a moment until we decide where to go.”
“Very well sir.”
Bill pulled down the window’s paper shade just enough to hide his face as he watched the club’s garden gate.
“Do you know where he is going?” asked Rocky.
“Yes. To Gruenvalds Sea Food shop on Van Brunt Street in Red Hook, Brooklyn.”
“1854,” murmured John, “the Brooklyn Bridge isn’t built yet. Guess we have to take the Fulton Ferry.”
“Wow! That’s funny,” added Bill as he wiped a hole in the fog on the window, “I just returned from the first ferry boat ride that would become the Fulton Ferry system.”
Rocky and John grinned as Rocky asked, “Another first, Bill?”
“Yeah. Couldn’t resist it. Sure hope they are running bigger ferries now because this carriage would have a tight squeeze getting aboard the Nassau.”
After a short wait the garden gate opened and a well-dressed Matt stepped out. He closed the gate behind him and quickly flagged down a passing carriage. After a moment or two his carriage started going cross-town and Bill called up to their cab driver, “Sir. Would you please follow that carriage.”
The driver shrugged and snow slid off of his shoulders as he jiggled the reins, which brought his two horses up to a walking speed.
With Bill’s carriage following Matt’s they went over to Broadway and headed towards lower Manhattan. After a fifteen-minute ride they arrived at the Fulton Ferry located at the foot of Fulton Street kissing the East River. There were people entering the large elegant building through arched doorways that sported round awnings over them while horse-drawn wagons and carriages entered through two very large arched entranceways.
“Shall I enter the ferry sir?” called out the driver.
“Yes,” answered Bill, “and add the fare to mine.”
Matt’s carriage was separated from Bills by a wagon carrying bags of coal. Bill’s carriage went down an inch or two as the ground changed from snow-covered cobblestone to a flooring of thick wooden beams. The driver followed a man waving him closer to the stopped coal-carrying wagon and when he held up his hand the driver stopped and put on his brake. The man quickly slid a wooden chock in front and behind of the carriage wheels so they could not roll forward or backward. The three time travelers stayed inside of the cab while just a few hardy passengers stepped out to watch the crossing. Bill was happy to see that Matt elected to stay inside as well.
A vibration transferred from the deck of the ferry boat, up and into the interior of the cab as the powerful steam engine came to life. It was followed by a blast of the boat’s whistle. The ferry left the slip and immediately the visibility went to zero as whirling snow obscured the view.
“Sure hope the captain can see better than us,” quipped Rocky.
Although the captain blew his foghorn constantly at least two boats had to turn sharply as they seemed to appear out of nowhere and return as quickly as they appeared. Finally the fifteen-minute trip ended with the ferry’s engine going into reverse to slow its approach into the slip followed by a slight bump against the wharf. Seamen secured the ferry to the wharf and the gates were opened. As the carriages and wagons all seemed to try to get off first it always reminded Bill of the chariot race in the movie Ben Hur.
Finally Matt’s carriage broke free from the crowd and went up Court Street following the East River with Bill’s cab following.
“Sir,” yelled the cab driver down to the three time travelers, “I must get closer as the snow blinds me.”
“Okay, okay,” answered Bill. “Do what you have to do to follow the carriage.”
After about twenty blocks Matt’s cab turned down Lorraine Street to Wolcott Street and then to Van Brunt Street in the middle of the Brooklyn’s Red Hook section where it finally stopped. The door opened and Matt stepped out. As he went to open the store door there was a tremendous explosion, which almost blew the cab over.
“Holy . . .” Bill shouted as the three men threw open the doors of their cab and ran through the deepening snow to the smoking store. As they were one shop away there was another explosion worse than the first.
The lights danced in a slow blurry movement. The white walls and ceiling reflected the dancing lights which then hurt his eyes. White, Bill thought, everything is white. Where the heck am I?
The voices were tinny sounding and competed with the ringing in his ears. Bill tried to move but felt a hand gently press against his chest, which hurt enough that he didn’t need the hand to tell him to lie back. He squinted and that helped to tighten up the dancing lights somewhat. He tried to move his hands and the right one moved a few inches before being stopped by a restraint.
“Wh-What happened?”
“He’s coming around,” said a deep male voice.
“He should be left alone,” said a female voice.
“Where am I?”
“Shhhh. You’re in Brooklyn City,” she answered softly.
“B-Brooklyn City?”
“Brooklyn City Hospital, pal. 121 DeKalb Avenue, Brooklyn New York,” added the sarcastic male voice. “Anything else you need to know?”
“Officer,” said the female voice, “please let him rest. He’s not going anywhere.”
Bill heard a grunt followed by shuffling footsteps that ended with the opening and closing of a door. Officer? he thought.
“How do you feel?”
Bill squinted and saw a heavyset dark haired woman dressed in a starched white uniform. “How long have I been out?”
“One hour. How do you feel?”
“Uh, not sure. Do I have all my parts?”
She giggled and answered as she felt his forehead, “Yes. You have all your parts and so does your friend.”
“My friend? Just one friend?”
“Yes. Were there more of you?”
Not sure why there was a policeman present, Bill decided not to go there for the moment. “Uh, no. Guess I have a nice bump on the head.”
“Yes. And a few burns on your cheeks and left hand.”
“Left hand? Then why is my right hand restrained?”
“Because of the handcuff.”
“What? What handcuff? Why a handcuff?” He turned his head to look and sure enough his right hand was cuffed to the steel bedrail.
“I’m not with the police. I’m just a nurse. You’ll have to ask them.”
“And what about my friend? Is he cuffed too?”
She nodded and tilted her head towards his left. Bill turned and saw John in a bed with his hand cuffed as well.
“Is-is he okay?”
Before she could answer John said, “Sort of. My head hurts.”
“He has pretty much the same as you: some burns and hit in the head by debris.”
“Debris from what? What happened?”
“The usual. Gas explosion. I still say we should be using oil lamps instead of these new gaslights. They’re brighter but more dangerous. We get people in here almost every day because of gas explosions. They turn the gas on and then try to light a match or blow the flame out and get distracted and leave the gas on filling the room with it. Someone walks in with a lit cigar and that’s it.”
The door opened and a short dark haired man with thick bushy eyebrows entered. He had a huge double chin, a waist that threatened his buttoned vest, a flat nose and a small scar on his square chin. Sticking out beneath his untrimmed black mustache was the stump of an unlit cigar that deposited gray ashes down the front of his black three-piece suit. A gold chain looped beneath his belly and went from one vest pocket to another and he wore a huge gold ring on his finger . . . a badge peeked out from beneath his lapel.
“I thought I heard talking in here.”
The nurs
e cringed visibly, “You shouldn’t be talking to them right now. They need rest.”
“You do your job and I’ll do mine, honey.” He went to Bill as she angrily left the room. “So, Scott, it says on your ID papers that you come from New York City. What brings you over to Brooklyn?”
“I was shopping for seafood.”
“Oh? How much money did you have with you?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe fifty dollars.”
The wide man nodded, “And another couple of thousand in a cut diamond? That’s a lot of seafood.” He walked over to John, “And you Brand. Another shopping spree for you too?”
“Yep. Is there something illegal about carrying large amounts of money around, officer?”
“Lieutenant. Lieutenant Joseph Doyle. And no it’s not illegal. But I have to find out if there is any more.”
“Why?” asked Bill.
He shrugged, “Curiosity! I have a need to know why you two carry a diamond hidden in your belts into my precinct.”
“A diamond?” asked Bill.
The policeman shrugged which made more ash collect on his belly. He casually brushed it off and onto the white sheet of Bill’s bed and said, “One? Are you saying there was more? Are you suggesting that I took some?” He pointed at two small piles of clothes on a chair and said, “Maybe there are more hidden in your garments?”
Bill knew his game and knew enough to not challenge him. “Guess I miscounted. Could have been the blow to my head.”
The man grinned which showed his yellowed tobacco stained teeth. “Yeah. That’s right. You miscounted. But I have to turn the two diamonds over to the holding room.”
“Why?” asked John.
“To see if they are hot.” Once again he shrugged as he explained, “How do I know that you two didn’t heist them from some rich person’s house? Naw. I got to check them out.”
“How soon before we get them back?”
He turned back to Bill and answered, “I don’t know. Maybe a month or two. Sometimes longer. It depends on the investigation. I mean, can you prove that they are yours?”
Bill shook his head, “No. But possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
This got a big grin from the man, “Right! And right now they are in the possession of m . . . I mean the Police Department.”
“How long do we stay in cuffs?” asked John.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On how much of a fuss you put on about losing your diamonds.”
“Are you saying that if we just leave without the diamonds you’ll take the cuffs off?”
The man’s eyes became slits as he grinned, “Are you trying to bribe me? I can put you two so far away you’ll never be found. Be glad that you didn’t end up in Brooklyn Mental instead of here. I’m gonna leave now but an officer is sitting right outside of the door so don’t try anything because he has orders to shoot if you do.”
As he walked out the nurse returned. “How are you gentlemen feeling?”
“Pretty good if not for this handcuff,” Bill answered. “Is that guy as bad as he looks?”
She hunched her shoulders and said in a low voice, “Please, sir, don’t say anything like that. He’s a bad person. He tells us that he must go through the clothing of every patient that enters the hospital to get any evidence on them in case they are evading the authorities. There have been complaints and a few of us believe that he robs them and if they complain, he has them placed in Brooklyn Mental.”
“That’s twice I heard Brooklyn Mental. Is that a hospital or something?”
She shook her head and still in a low voice said, “I-I don’t know anything. Please don’t ask me. I have two children and need this job.”
“Look,” said Bill in a whisper. “We won’t say anything to anyone. But two other friends of ours are in this hospital and we must locate them.”
“There were only three of you brought in. You two and another fellow. But the police wanted you two to be in the same room.”
“Can you tell us what the other guy looks like and is he all right?”
“Yes. He has black hair and is muscular. He too was dazed and is three rooms down the hall.”
“Is he handcuffed?”
“No.”
“Did the policeman go through his clothes too?”
“I don’t think so. He seemed preoccupied with going through you two gentlemen’s clothing.” She looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Do you know there’s a policeman sitting outside the door?”
“Yes. Wonder what he has in store for us?”
Three Doors Down
Rocky sat up and swung his legs down to the floor as the young nurse’s helper handed him his clothes.
“Are you certain that you are feeling well Mr. Perna? Why not stay here overnight? It’s snowing harder now.”
He signed the release paper and said, “Naw. Thanks anyway. I already slept too long.”
“You were not sleeping, sir you were out cold. You might get dizzy and pass out in the snow.”
“Aw, I’m strong as an ox. Let me ask you a question: was one of the patients from those explosions about fifty years old?”
“No sir. I was in the admitting room when the ambulance brought you and the other two men in and both were your age.”
“The other two men? But if I remember right there was another man entering the shop as it exploded. Where is he?”
With a shrug she said, “Not sure, sir. But many times another hospital might be called in to help.”
“Another hospital? Do you know the name of the other hospital?”
“Most probably Brooklyn Mental.”
“Brooklyn Mental? What kind of a name is that?”
“Actually the full name is Brooklyn Mental Evaluation Hospital.”
“And where are they located?”
“Coney Island. Down by the water.”
“Do you have an address?”
“No, but you can’t miss it. It’s the only large building down there. Will you be going there?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”
She came close and whispered, “Sir, I hear that it is not a nice place. Should you go there please be careful.”
“I promise. So did you find out why the police have arrested those two men that also got caught in that explosion?”
She shrugged her slim shoulders and answered, “No. Their nurse said that they were handcuffed to their beds so they must have done something wrong.”
“Wow,” he said as he handed her the release form, “you just never know who you are going to be in an explosion with these days.” He started to lift the long hospital shirt and she said as she left the room, “Please stay warm, sir.”
Before Rocky got dressed he picked up his suspenders and felt the front. One, two, three, he thought as he counted the hidden diamonds. Unlike Bill and John’s money belt his outfit came with a hidden compartment in the leather suspenders. He quickly dressed and feeling slightly dizzy, sat back down on the edge of the bed.
No good, Rocky. No good, he thought as he rubbed his head. You need to get up and see the best way to get Bill and John out of here.
The time traveler stood and shook his head. He opened the door and took a peek down the hallway to see a policeman sitting in front of a room.
That’s the room the guys are in, he thought as he pulled his head back and closed the door. I need a plan. He looked around the room and saw a bunch of wilted flowers in a vase and the wrapping paper in a wastebasket. He took the flowers and rewrapped them in the paper. Here goes, he thought as he put his hat on. He opened the door and walked down the hallway looking at each room as though he was trying to find a certain room. He smiled as he stopped near the policeman.
“Boy if I don’t find my wife’s room she’s going to kill me.”
“What room are you looking for?” asked the policeman as he stood.
“Not sure. She told me but I forgot.” He rolled his eyes, “Boy she’
s going to kill me.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Rocky smiled and asked, “Oh, you’re married too?”
“Yeah. Fifteen years.”
Rocky stepped behind the man as though he was looking at another door and in that instant jammed his finger in the police man’s back and said, “If you want to see your wife again, step into the room and don’t try anything that you’ll regret.”
The policeman stood still but said, “How do I know that you have a gun?”
“You don’t. But tell me, do you feel lucky today?”
He reluctantly opened the door and the two walked in.
Bill and John said nothing as Rocky said, “Hand him the keys to the cuffs.”
The policeman tossed the key to Bill as Rocky took the man’s pistol. Bill hopped out of bed and tossed the key to John as Rocky took white tape and taped the policeman’s hands behind his back then taped his feet together and finally his mouth. He sat him in the chair that Bill had removed the clothes from and taped him in it.
Within five minutes the three men left the building. The snow was ankle deep and the gas lamp streetlights created flickering circles of yellow light on the white snow. They trudged head down through the streets happy that the falling snow was quickly covering their footprints behind them.
“Bill, John, I think I know where Matt is. Brooklyn Mental.”
“Damn!” quipped Bill, “That’s supposed to be one lousy place.”
“That’s what the nurse’s aide said to me,” said Rocky. “Anyway it’s located in Coney Island.”
“Phew! That’s a desolate place in this time period.”
Although the snow was still coming down there were plenty of carriages about as this was prime money-making time for them and the three time travelers flagged down a large two horse carriage.
“Where to gents?” asked the well-covered driver.
“Brooklyn Mental in Coney Island please.”
As they climbed in the man took a moment to brush snow off of the horse blankets that covered the two horses before he climbed back up and with a snap of his rein the horses easily pulled away from the buried curb.
The ride was soft and quiet as the snow absorbed the contact between the steel rimmed wheels and the cobblestones. The inside of the carriage was plush and had a thick blanket on each of the two facing seats. They kept the windows up and rested their feet on the warm, two foot by two foot steel box on the floor that contained hot coals. The closer they got to Coney Island the less they saw of any private homes.
Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club, Book 14 Page 3
