“That’s an amazingly accurate prediction,” said Josie. “Have there been any other oddities occurring? Things which are difficult to explain?”
“I don’t understand,” said Professor Crowfeather.
She glanced at Remington for help.
He cleared his throat. “Has anyone appeared unexpectedly? Or, perhaps, have you found anything odd?”
“Does this have to do with the murder at your place?” asked Professor Crowfeather.
“Indirectly.”
“I’m a time traveler,” Josie blurted out. There wasn’t much to lose at this point. “As an FYI, Mount St. Helens is going to erupt in 1980, so you were really spot on with that prediction. I’m trying to get back to my own time and was hoping you might know something which could help me.” She really hoped he wasn’t about to kick them out of his house for wasting his time.
When Professor Crowfeather didn’t say anything, Remington said, “I don’t think she’s dangerous. Just...confused.”
“I don’t think she’s dangerous or confused,” said Professor Crowfeather slowly. “This reminds me of the stories my grandfather used to tell. Every few generations we’d get these earthquakes. My people always referred to them as the restless earth. Odd things happened. People appeared and some disappeared. In fact...”
He walked to his desk, then pulled something out and gave it to Josie to examine. It was a pair of sunglasses in round silver frames.
“I have a pair of those,” said Remington, as he turned to Josie. “They’re the newest thing. You put them on when it’s very bright and they shield your eyes. I got a pair in Atlantic City.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with sunglasses.”
“Where’d you get these?” Remington asked Professor Crowfeather.
“My grandfather found them in 1867.”
“But they were just invented this year.”
“This is what I’m talking about,” said Professor Crowfeather. “My people have found a lot of mysterious things over the years. I just found this a few days ago.” He reached in another drawer and pulled out a cell phone.
“Oh my God,” said Josie, as she took it from him.
“What is it?” asked David.
“A phone.”
“What do you mean it’s a phone?”
“A telephone.”
“That’s not a telephone!”
Josie tried to turn it on. “The battery is dead.”
“That’s not a telephone,” said Remington. “How would you even hang that thing on a wall?”
“Trust me, it’s a phone. Where did you find this, Professor?”
“On the road near Remington Mansion. When are you from, Miss Matthews?”
“About ninety years in the future, when these are common. But the thing is, this isn’t my phone. That means I’m not the only time traveler here.” Josie tried to get her head around the concept that someone at the party had come back from the future to murder and blackmail people. “Of course!” she said, as it finally made sense. “That’s how one person knew so much about so many different people. Someone from the future has Googled all of you.”
“What’s a Google?” asked Remington.
“That’s an explanation for later.”
“Does it involve typing into a radio again?”
Josie turned to Professor Crowfeather. “How do I get home? Can you help me?”
He smiled kindly at her. “I’m not sure, but I’ll try. I’ll see what I can learn about the earthquakes and any odd disappearances. I can’t guarantee I’ll be successful, but no one should be separated from their home, from their people. I’ll call you if I learn anything. In the meantime, be careful. Nature can be vindictive when it’s crossed. And nothing could be quite as disruptive as someone being out of time.”
“Especially if there are two of us,” said Josie.
“Exactly,” said Professor Crowfeather. “There’s one more thing to consider. According to the stories, the mysterious events stopped when the earthquakes did. If history is any indication, you have less than a week to get home. Then the portal will close until the next set of earthquakes. And that could be another generation or two. Or longer. There’s no time to waste.”
“No,” said Josie. “There isn’t.” Especially when there was another time traveler along them.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“So, who are all the heavyweight champions between now and your time?” asked Remington, on the ride back to the house.
“I don’t know,” said Josie.
“How can you not know? Don’t you have a radio?” he asked.
“I do, along with a TV.”
“What’s a TV?”
“It’s a box you look at where you see things happening. It’s like a radio with a movie screen in it. Don’t you want to know anything of importance?” The sun was bright today and she wished she would have borrowed Professor Crowfeather’s sunglasses.
“Are you saying boxing isn’t important? Are you sure you’re American?”
“If I had just learned that someone had come from the future, I’d want to know about a lot more than boxing.”
“Fair enough. Why don’t you explain doogle?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You just said someone had doogled us.”
Josie tried not to laugh. “Google. Someone Googled all of you. It’s a way of getting information from a computer.”
“What’s a computer?”
“It’s another box with a screen in it, which gives you information.”
He glanced at her. “Are there any boxes which are just boxes? Or do they all tell you something?” He swerved just in time to avoid a squirrel.
“Watch the road, please.” One thing had been bothering her and it was time to bring it up. “Why are you being blackmailed?”
He didn’t say anything for so long she thought he might not have heard her. She was about to repeat the question when he said, “I owe my fortune to stealing $5300 from a very bad man. He was dead and I figured he wouldn’t miss it. And, no, I didn’t kill him.”
That was a pretty big admission. “The papers say you’re worth a lot more than $5300.”
“I am. I took the money and invested it. After several years and some luck, I have a pretty substantial fortune. But it wouldn’t have happened nearly as quickly without that original $5300. He was a Chicago gangster and Mikey and I came upon him just after he’d been shot. We went through his stuff and pocketed the dough. We were nineteen.”
“You were just kids.”
“Nineteen is living on borrowed time where we came from. We knew right from wrong. We didn’t take all his money because we knew his gang would have looked for it. We just took enough that it wouldn’t be missed.”
“If you and Mr. Corrigan both took the money, was he being blackmailed about that, too?”
“Nope. Something else entirely.”
“Who knew about this?”
“Mikey, of course.”
“Lucy?”
“He didn’t know her then. But I suppose it’s possible he could have told her since, but I doubt it. He’s a loyal guy. I also hope you won’t mention his part in this.”
“I won’t mention either of you.” Josie looked at the forest speeding by. “Does Agent Barker know?”
“He was gone by then. But I think he always suspected that I started investing with money which wasn’t entirely my own.”
“And there’s no way he could be the blackmailer?”
“None at all.”
Josie considered the matter. “But if you and Mr. Corrigan are the only ones who know for certain, he must be the blackmailer.”
“He isn’t. There must be another explanation. I took a huge leap of faith by believing your story. Please do the same for Mikey.”
Josie thought there was a world of difference in believing her versus a known gangster. But then she thought of something else. “What did you invest in?”
“You p
robably wouldn’t know it. It was a small company called Computing-Tabulating-Recording-Company. They made tabulating machines and punch clocks. I used to have to punch in at the slaughterhouse. This was my way of saying good-bye to that life. I suppose it’d be too much to hope that it would still exist in your time. I reckon my stock would be worth a lot if it were.”
“No. Unfortunately, the punch clock industry isn’t all that big in my day.”
He smiled. “A guy can dream.” He slowed down for a curve in the road. “They changed their name in 1915.”
“Hopefully to something a bit catchier.”
“Only somewhat, I’m afraid. In 1915, they changed their name to International Business Machines. I was one of its first investors. I still have some stock.”
“Hold it. International Business Machines...IBM?”
“Yes, that’s the abbreviation.”
“You mean, IBM – IBM?”
“Yes. Do you know it?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. Keep that stock. It’ll be a good one. As a matter of fact it’ll be so good that it’s definitely a company your blackmailer could have Googled.”
“Not Google again.”
“Yes, Google. Which, ironically, you can do with IBM. All the blackmailer would have had to do was Google your portfolio, then see if there were any inconsistencies, like how you got your start. After that, it’d be a few searches until they figured out you got your cash in a mysterious, only quasi-legal way. Yes, your blackmailer is almost certainly the other time-traveler. And I think I have an idea of how to catch them.”
“I’ll do anything to help,” he said, as he took the turn onto his land.
“IBM,” mused Josie. “You really would be rich in my day.”
* * *
“Let me get this straight,” said Agent Barker, once David and Josie had told him everything they’d learned from Professor Crowfeather. They were on the corner of the lawn near the woods, far from anyone else. “She’s from the future and there’s someone else from the future and that other person is the killer?”
“Yes,” said David.
“And you believe her?”
“It would explain why someone is able to blackmail so many of us. How else can you explain how one person could know so much about each of us?”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” said Barker. “But time travel?”
“I know it sounds crazy,” said Josie.
“You got that right,” said Barker.
Josie continued. “All I’m asking you is to let us question people about their backgrounds. The other time traveler did a lot of research about the people at this party. But I’m betting that he or she didn’t spend as much time coming up with their own story. I think we’ll find inconsistencies which will lead us to the murderer.”
“And we’ll only have to question the people we don’t know very well,” said David. “I’ve known Grant, Mikey and Lydia most of my life. I know you’re not time travelers. Farnsworth has been famous for years, so has Lawrence Henry. That leaves Dora, Lucy, Tanner and Kurt.”
“And Constance,” said Josie.
David turned to her. “It’s not Constance.”
“How do you know it’s not Constance?”
“For one thing, she’s being blackmailed, too.”
David Remington really didn’t want it to be his girlfriend. “Did you see the blackmail letter?”
He thought about that for a moment. “I didn’t see anyone’s blackmail letter.”
“Someone picked up your money that night and she was right there. If you’ll recall, she didn’t go to the doctor with us. She would have been in the perfect place to take your money.”
“She’s got a point,” said Barker.
David shook his head. “We didn’t find any money in her room.”
“She could have stashed it somewhere. I’m sorry. I know you don’t want it to be her. But you have to admit it’s a possibility.”
David turned to Barker. “What do you think?”
“I’m still half convinced it’s her,” he said, pointing at Josie. “It could be Miss Andrews, but it could also be just about anyone else. I was with Mikey that night, but we can’t confirm anyone else’s whereabouts. You have a house full of suspects.”
David didn’t say anything for a moment, then nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I guess we’ll question Constance, as well as the others. But I still can’t think of her as a murderer.”
Josie wasn’t so sure about that but refrained from saying it out loud. But just barely.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Josie, David and Barker were in the library, ready to question the first suspect.
“I have some news,” said Barker, who’d just been on the phone. “We have a little information on Madame Racine. She matched the description of a con artist named Delores Spencer and I had the Bureau do some checking. She has a rap sheet a mile long in jurisdictions across the country. She used to travel the carnie circuit as a fortune teller.”
“That would explain her act when she was here,” said David. “I wish I could remember what she said that night.”
Barker pulled out a notebook. “I wrote it down. The old battleax said ‘She is from the future. She will fall into a great depression. She must pay!’ Looking at this with a little distance from the actual event, it still sounds like she’s talking about you, Miss Matthews. Especially that part about being from the future.”
“She’s talking about the other time traveler, though I can’t imagine how she knew about that. But there’s something odd about the other thing she said, about falling into a great depression.” Josie thought about it but couldn’t quite figure out why it stood out.
Barker put away his notebook. “There was something else the Bureau found out. In her younger years, Madame Racine, or Delores Spencer or whoever she was, worked the carnie circuit as a sharpshooter.”
“So she could have shot Mr. Corrigan,” said Josie.
David shook his head. “She wasn’t here yet. She didn’t arrive at the party until later that day.”
“But what if that was a diversion? What if she came to town early, then shot Mr. Corrigan to give the real murderer an alibi?” asked Josie.
David and Barker considered it.
“But why would she only wound Mikey?” asked David. “If she was a sharpshooter, she easily could have made that shot and killed him.”
“Unless they just wanted to scare him,” said Josie. “Maybe the murderer wanted to keep blackmailing him.”
“Then why kill Madame Racine?” asked Barker. “If she was partners with the murderer, why’d he kill her?”
“I don’t know,” said Josie. “But it’s something to consider.”
A moment later, Dora Barnes entered the library, dressed in linen slacks and a silk shirt. “I must say you’ve roused my curiosity by asking me here in such a hush-hush manner,” she said, as she took a seat across from them. She leaned back in the club chair and crossed her legs, seemingly at ease. “I had to dissuade Lawrence from listening at the peephole, though I’d still be careful when you open the door in case he’s out there.”
“We just want to ask you a few questions, Miss Barnes,” said Barker.
“Officially?” she asked. “After all, you do work for Hoover.”
“Would it matter if it is official?” asked Barker.
Dora shrugged. “I guess not. Ask away.”
Josie smiled at her. “I was just wondering how you came to know Mr. Henry.”
“I met him shortly after I moved to New York. Someone had just stolen my pocketbook and Lawrence ran the guy down, punched him in the nose and rescued the last twenty-five cents I had to my name. We became fast friends right there.”
“That was very courageous of him,” said Josie.
“It’s who he is. He has come to my rescue several times since then, but in less dramatic terms. He’s an excellent shoulder to cry on.”
“How do yo
u make a living, Miss Barnes?” asked David.
“My secretarial skills are excellent, courtesy of my mother’s insistence that her little girl find a way to support herself. I spent fifteen months at Miss Collins’s School for Secretarial Sciences in Terre Haute, Indiana, honing skills I hoped I’d never have to put to work. I can type 120 words per minute and my shorthand is second to none. Well, I can read it, though no one else can. I work through an agency which places me in offices on a temporary basis. I type, fetch coffee and avoid the wandering hands of my employers.”
“I wouldn’t think secretarial work pays much,” said Barker.
Dora frowned a bit. “It’s nothing like Wall Street,” she said, with a nod in David’s direction. “But not much is. Why are you so curious about how I earn a living? Do you think I might be the blackmailer?”
“We don’t know what to think,” said David. “So we’re questioning some of the guests I don’t know very well. If I might ask, why are you being blackmailed?”
Dora froze and something flashed in her eyes which seemed like fear. “I’d rather not say. It’s not something I’d like bandied about.”
“I promise it won’t go further than this room,” said David.
“Please, Miss Barnes,” said Josie. “You’ll be helping us rule you out as a suspect.”
Dora sighed, a bit unsteadily. “There was an incident about a year ago.” She took a moment to steady her breathing. “I was...attacked.” She uncrossed her legs and put her arms around her mid-section. “A few weeks later I learned I was pregnant.” She looked down, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “I went to a...well, not a doctor, but I went to someone.” She looked at Barker. “Are you going to arrest me?”
“No,” he said gently.
There was a moment of silence in the room, then Josie asked, “How did the blackmailer learn about this? I can’t imagine you told many people.”
“The only person I told was Lawrence and I’m positive he didn’t say anything. I can’t imagine the doctor said anything because he could have gone to prison. That’s what I can’t figure out. How could anyone know about it?”
“That’s a very good question,” said David. “I’m terribly sorry you had to go through all of that.”
The Tycoon Murderer Page 17
