Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III

by A. H. Rousseau

  “I think we’re going to have to accept that someone that you trust, someone of senior position, is leaking information,” said Levi.

  “Yeah. I’m dealing with that reality right now,” said Cassidy. She looked at Barnabas.

  “Don't look at me!” he said.

  “I'm not looking at you. I'm... looking at you... for guidance. Does anyone jump to mind?” asked Cassidy.

  No,” Barnabas said, shaking his head. “No one.”

  “Shit!” Cassidy hissed. “I don't know. Maybe go through company finances, clocks... something.”

  Everyone at the table paused in thought. After a few moments had gone by, Barnabas broke the silence. “I have more bad news.”

  “Oh right,” replied Cassidy. “Well, what else do you have for us?”

  “The alloys are a loss, but seeing as we’re the only ones around who can extract titanium, even if whoever wants the metals can determine their make-up, they can’t copy the metal. The other thing they took can be replicated — the gyroscope.”

  “Gyroscope? What, the multi-axis one that spent the last year as a desk toy for that secretary of yours?” Cassidy asked while making a little spinning gesture with her pointer finger.

  “No. The next generation of that. We were targeting it as part of an advanced stabilizing system for guns on ocean-going ships.”

  “Oh, that’s not too bad. We were going to be patenting that thing sooner or later. The plans were going to be public,” Cassidy said, obviously a bit relieved.

  “I don’t think you are fully appreciating the nature of that machine. It has dozens of small electrical contacts all along the outside that connect to small points that are able to communicate information about the gyroscopes internal state. It is a true wonder of modern engineering. I would go so far as to say that the work we put into that is unparalleled. Not only does it have its fair share of new alloys in it, but the sheer amount of precision work that went into it could lead to dozens of insights for someone smart enough to see. Any production version of the gyroscope would not have these features.”

  “Now you’re just trying to ruin my day.” Cassidy said.

  “No. I'm not. I'm trying to make you appreciate that your little pet project of those metals was not the most significant thing we had going,” Barnabas said, motioning his hand up and down on the table surface. “You've constantly undervalued it, you've constantly ignored it. But that gyroscope would have fueled ten years worth of patents for the company. It's obvious that someone else also sees its value.”

  Cassidy lost herself in thought for a moment. “Regardless, my primary concern is now figuring out who leaked the information.”

  “And also seeing if we can get the stuff back!” added Levi.

  “Yes,” said Jacob. “You know my contacts. Any attempts to sell something of that importance will attract attention.”

  “All we can do as far as that is concerned is wait,” said Cassidy. “Until then, Barnie, our job is to go through everyone in the company who knew that that train was the one with the alloys.”

  “Again, their primary target may have been the gyroscope,” replied Barnabas.

  “Yes, you're right,” replied Cassidy. “I misspoke. But it doesn't matter. It would be the same person. If we shake the company hard enough, something will fall out.”

  “Wait, what about the highwayman we captured?” asked Jacob.

  “First, highwayman? What, have you been reading a thesaurus or something? And he’s useless,” said Cassidy. “He didn’t know anything. He was hired for jobs by a friend, one of the men who is now dead, and paid in small gold bars.”

  “Telling the truth?” asked Levi.

  “Yeah. Near as I can tell. Seems too stupid to lie. He’ll be cooling off in jail for awhile, though, just in case.”

  As the meal drew to a close, Margie was collecting plates from the sparsely populated table. Cassidy, Levi, Joseph, and Barnabas sat at the end, the table was sparsely populated. Cassidy made notice of Joseph, who had been quiet for the past few minutes, with his head and arms down on the table.

  “Joe? You’ve been quiet for awhile” asked Cassidy.

  “Oooooohhhhnnnnnngg,” Joseph moaned and cried from inside his folded forearms. “It was only a soufflé. What the hell is it doing to my insides?”

  “You ate a pound of cheese and egg. What were you expecting. Weight loss?” Cassidy laughed a bit as she spoke. “I’m surprised that you ate it. I thought you were just fooling around. But no, you actually ate half of a cheese casserole.”

  Joseph leaned back in the chair, his face was red and had a faint coating of sweat. He breathed in and exhaled slowly. “There is no way I’m giving this up. This soufflé is going to become part of me whether I like it or not.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Cassidy. Cassidy then leaned back and stretched her arms up in the air. She then turned to Margie, who was cleaning up over by the stove. “Margie, I’m going to go upstairs to freshen up. If Joe dies, just toss him out back.”

  “I want my tombstone to read I died as I lived: eating cheese,” added Joseph, his head hanging back, his eyes closed.

  Cassidy got up and walked past Margie, giving her a loving pat on the shoulder as she went. Back at the table, Levi, who was sitting next to Joseph and facing Barnabas and Jacob, made eye-contact with both of them and gave them a smirk as he raised his open hand over Josephs distended belly, making as though he was going to slap it. Jacob made a goofy grin as Barnabas squinted and looked away, peeking out the corner of his eye.

  “Touch me and die,” said Joseph, not moving. Levi held his hands up in a show of feigned innocence.

  ---

  Cassidy came galumphing down the stairs, now dressed in her suede pants, knee-high leather boots, a well-fitting shirt and a vest. Her explosion of copper hair was somewhat controlled in a poofy pony tail. Amos walked up from her office. “Miss St. Claire, telephone for you in your office.”

  “Excellent. Finally, it's getting some use.” Cassidy walked quickly with large strides into her office where she picked up the receiver to the telephone, which was mounted on the wall behind her desk.

  “Ahoy,” said Cassidy.

  Silence. “Ahoy,” Cassidy repeated.

  “Cassidy,” the woman on the other end was subdued. “It's Gertie, your office manager.”

  “Gertie, hi.” There was a silence. Cassidy's smile changed to a worried frown. “What's wrong?”

  “Cassidy, I think that you should get down here.”

  “Why?” Gertrude didn't respond. “Gertie, talk to me. What's wrong.”

  “It's Clarence, Cassidy. Clarence Duval. He's dead.”

  “What?” Cassidy's breath escaped her as she tried to finish the word.

  “He's been killed. It looks like it happened last night. He's been shot.” Gertrude started to cry. “Cassidy, there's blood everywhere! He's just lying on the ground! His skin is so pale! He has a big hole in his head!”

  “Gertie, Gertie. Calm down. I will be down in the office within the hour. Just sit down and try to relax. Ok?” Gertie just breathed and sniffled into the phone. “Ok?”

  “Yes. Ok.”

  “Who else is there?”

  “Just Charles, the head of security, and two guards. We're the only ones who know.”

  “Ok, good. Keep it that way. Has anyone informed the police?”

  “No. We all wanted to tell you first.”

  Cassidy paused and gazed up in contemplation. “Ok. Don't tell them yet. Don't disturb the room. Don't touch anything. I'll be down shortly. You understand?”

  “Yes. I understand.”

  “Good. Good. Hang tight, I'm on my way.” Cassidy hung up the receiver and yelled to Amos. “Amos! Get my crew in here!”

  “Right away,” said Amos.

  Cassidy walked over to a bookshelf on the back wall and pulled a lever which caused the entire shelf to open to the side, revealing a wardrobe inside. Cassidy pulled out two thigh hols
ters and started to put them on. At that moment, Joseph, Levi, Jacob, and Barnabas all rushed in. “What's the news,” asked Joseph?

  Cassidy spoke as she attached her holsters. “It seems as though we've found our leak.”

  “What? Who?” asked Barnabas.

  “Clarence Duval,” replied Cassidy.

  Barnabas' brow furrowed deeply. “Clarence? No.”

  “Yeah. Clarence. He was found dead in his office.”

  Barnabas’ jaw dropped slightly and he lost his breath as his eyes drifted off to infinity. “Dead?”

  “Based on the description I just received from the office manager Gertrude, it sounds like he’s been shot.”

  “My god,” Barnabas said breathlessly. “Right in the office?”

  “Amos, can you get the carriage ready?” asked Cassidy.

  “Straight away, miss,” replied Amos, turning and leaving.

  “Joe, Levi, I’d like you to come along with Barnie and myself. Levi, you know weapons, and Joe, I just like to have your pretty face around.” Joe smiled. Levi nodded. “Jacob, I’d ask you to stay here. I want to minimize the number of people at the scene. Stay here, though. If we need you for any reason, I'll give you a call.”

  “That works good for me,” replied Jacob.

  Cassidy opened up one of her revolvers to check whether it was loaded and then slapped it shut, holstering it. “Gentlemen, the game is afoot.”

  4

  Cassidy, Joe, Levi, and Barnabas all walked into the office slowly. The windows that lead out to the manufacturing floor had the blinds all drawn. A large, dark wood desk sat in the back of the room with filing cabinets scattered along the walls. Lying face down, in front of the desk, was the body of Clarence Duval, one arm outstretched, the other arm under his body. Blood and gore was on the floor, the wall, and on his desk.

  Gertrude was sitting on one of two chairs next to a large potted plant just outside of the office. In the other chair was Charles, the head of security, who was holding her head to his chest and caressing her hair.

  Cassidy walked up to the body and placed her hands on her sides. She breathed in heavily and sighed out. “Shit, Clarence. What the hell were you involved with?” Cassidy’s eyes moved around the room, before walking out of the office to talk to Gertrude. “Gertie. You were the one who found him?”

  Gertrude fidgeted with her hands as she spoke. “Yes. I opened the door… and there he was. Just lying there.”

  “When did you get here?”

  “What time is it?” Gertie asked.

  Charlie removed a pocket watch from inside is vest and clicked it open. “11:35.”

  “About three and a half hours ago. It was sometime around eight, I think” said Gertrude, looking at Cassidy.

  “When do the first employees arrive?” Cassidy asked, looking at Barnabas.

  “Six in the morning,” he replied.

  “Is it possible anyone else has been up here?”

  “No. Highly unlikely,” replied Barnabas.

  “How many people are in the factory right now?”

  “On a Saturday? Maybe twenty,” said Barnabas.

  “Ok.” Cassidy tapped her fingers on her thigh. “Tell them to take the day off. Don't bother making up a story. Just tell them that they'll find out later.”

  “I'll have one of the guards do it. I don't want to leave here,” replied Barnabas.

  “Good idea,” said Cassidy as Barnabas leaned out the door to talk to the guard.

  “Charlie, has anyone else been in here, near the body, or touched the body?” asked Cassidy.

  “No. No one. Gertie didn't even enter the room, and I stayed away from the body. It was rather obvious that he was dead.”

  “Levi,” Cassidy said, gesturing toward the body. “Thoughts?”

  Levi walked over, stepping around the blood, and leaned down over the body. He looked up at the desk and grabbed a pencil that was sitting there. He analyzed the hair and the hole on the back of the head, using the pencil to move the hair. “There’s singeing of the hairs and some noticeable soot. This was a very close shot. Pretty big hole, too.”

  “God damn, that is a lot of blood,” said Joseph, looking at the lake of reddish black surrounding the body.

  “Yeah,” added Levi, “head wounds can do that.”

  Levi then looked back up at the desk and grabbed a piece of paper and used it as a glove to lift the head. He placed his hand under the skull and tried to lift, but his hand immediately pushed inside of the skull. “Gah,” Levi yelled, lifting his hand up, revealing some blood and gray matter stuck to it. “Jesus Christ.” He shook it with a look of disgust on his face. “Well, you sure as hell don’t want to try moving the body. Based on the fact that I just put my hand inside his head, I’d guess that his whole face has been blown off.”

  “Good god,” Joseph ejaculated.

  Gertrude adopted a look of extreme pain on her face and put a hand to her mouth. She got up and ran down the walkway above the factory floor and through a door. “I should attend to her,” said Charles.

  Cassidy nodded. “Yes. Please do.” As Charles passed near Cassidy, she put her hand on his arm to stop him, “and after you have her squared away, call for the police. May as well let them in.” Charles nodded.

  After Charles had left, Cassidy turned to Levi. “How long as he been dead?” she asked.

  “It's hard to tell precisely, but based on the stiffness, I'd say at least ten hours.”

  “That makes sense,” said Cassidy. “Check his coat pocket. See if his wallet is still there.”

  “You think robbery was a motive?” asked Barnabas.

  “No, but it's worth a look.”

  Levi grabbed the cloth of Clarence’s coat and pulled the cloth out from under his body. He reached into the inner pocket and produced a long, bifold wallet. “Untouched,” he said.

  “I figured it would be. Levi, you do your doctoring stuff to that body, we're going to see if we can find anything else outside.”

  Levi sighed. “Yes,” he said as he wiped his hand on a kerchief.

  Cassidy walked out of the office onto the upper walkway, looking down onto the large factory floor, light pouring in from skylights above. Cassidy kept her eyes on the floor.

  “What are you looking for?” asked Joseph.

  “Anything,” said Cassidy. “Blood, dirt. He could have come from or gone in any direction. And I suppose—” Cassidy stopped. She then looked up at Joseph. “The gun!”

  ---

  The threesome stood around an empty table with a bright light directly above it.

  “Of course,” Cassidy said, cynically. “Of course. Son of a bitch. Did anyone have a chance to look at it before last night?”

  Barnabas' eyes remained fixed on the table. “No. Not really. We played around with it for a bit. Turned it on and watched it spin. We'll have to get in touch with the engineer I put on the job for all of the information, but he won't have much to say.” Barnabas paused and rubbed the stubble around his mouth with his right hand. “We did measure one of the bullet casings. Impressive job. Huge case with a minuscule caliber. Point-one-three. That's why they were able to wedge so many into their magazine.”

  “That's it?” asked Cassidy.

  “Yeah. I'm sorry. We only had the gun for, what, four hours,” replied Barnabas.

  Cassidy sighed. She looked at the floor and saw an old, bloody footprint. She then glanced out and saw the faint outline of other footprints. “Joe. Look at this,” Cassidy said.

  Joseph looked down on the floor. “A footprint,” he said.

  “Yeah. That looks like the print of a fine shoe, don't you think?”

  Barnabas then leaned down as well. “Absolutely,”

  “A gentleman assassin,” said Joseph.

  “Or a thug in nice shoes,” said Cassidy.

  “I can't see Clarence paling around with anyone but someone of culture and breeding,” said Barnabas. “He wasn't an arrogant man, but he was a discerning m
an.”

  “Yeah. Clothing goes a long way toward hiding a thug,” added Cassidy. “Unfortunately, neither a ruffian nor a gentleman would have stood out in the crowd around here. Ok. Let's see if we can find any more footprints, clues, anything that gives us an idea of where this guy went while in here.”

  The trio departed the room, their eyes on the ground. They walked up and down the elevated walkways overlooking the factory. They opened doors and looked inside. They pressed their faces up against carpets. Finally, Barnabas walked down a stairwell from the upper floor to the lower floor and, as he walked away, looked at his hand and noticed a small amount of red on his fingers. He glanced up, and then back to the stairwell and inspected the length of the wall-mounted hand rail running down the left side of the stairs.

  “Cassidy!” he yelled. “I found something! Blood!”

  Cassidy and Joseph came running over and came down the stairs to where Barnabas was waiting. “After coming down the stairs, I found this on my hand,” Barnabas said, holding up his bloody fingers. “I traced it back here. Lo and behold, streaks of blood.”

  “Wonderful work, Barney. Thank you. We now know where he went.”

  “We also know that he is left-handed,” added Barnabas.

  “How do —, oh yes. We do,” said Cassidy. “Not sure what good that will do us, but we know it.”

  “A small number of people are left-handed,” said Joseph. “It's something.”

  “Yes... Yes,” said Cassidy, now deeply in thought. “Alright, we all need to pretend like we're this guy. We know he came down here... where did he go?” They all looked around.

  “The only place to really go is back out the main entrance,” said Barnabas. “All of the other doors lead to enclosed areas.”

  “But why would he come down here instead of just going back out front?” asked Cassidy.

  Joseph and Barnabas shrugged. “If anything, that makes me think we should check the storage yards,” said Joseph. “Because if what makes sense doesn't make sense, then all that's left is what doesn't make sense.”

  Cassidy stared at him with a look of befuddlement bordering on shock. “That is the most convoluted thing you have ever said.”