Shell Game – Chapter 37 – The Conductor

The fog had changed from burned orange to ghostly white by the time Evan made his way back to the Agency. He lumbered past Sophie without so much as a hello and entered his inner office. Evan loosened his tie and rubbed his throbbing eyes and temples. A minute later, Sophie charged in, looking helpless.

“Well?” she asked but got no response. “Evan.”

“What?” Evan mumbled, not looking at her.

Sophie walked to him and did her best to get in his line of sight. “Any news on our prodigal?”

Evan chuckled and looked at the ceiling, “You are like the best bloodhound. Get the smell of something in your nostrils, and you aren’t going to let it go for nothing.”

She folded her arms. “I’m not laughing, Evan. A fragile woman is out there in a sea of hostile and greedy men. What do you expect me to do, wash my hands of her?”

At this, Evan could not hide his smile or his laughter, which only made the frustration furrows between Sophie’s eyes deepen.

“There may be a lot of words you could use to describe Miss Claire Porter, but fragile is not one of them.” Evan straightened up in his chair and looked into Sophie’s soft, green eyes. “I swung back by the depot on my way here. I did that because I’m a nice guy. Remember, you asked me nicely, and I did it. I want you to remember that should things go opposite of your expectations.”

Sophie stared at her boss and chewed the inside of her cheek. “Are you going to tell me anything, or just think you’re cute?” she asked.

“She left here and went to the depot, which you already knew. Once there, she started asking around for a certain conductor.”

“Conductor? Who’s he?”

“I’ve no idea, but I’ve a feeling we’ll know soon enough. These people are clever, I’ll give them that, but they are not subtle or careful. The number of breadcrumbs they leave is impressive.

Sophie made herself comfortable, sitting on the corner of Evan’s desk.

Evan continued. “Good news, if that’s what it is, our conductor arrived yesterday around four o’clock. That Lauren Bacall look-alike escorted me to meet Eye Patch at around five. I was there, mostly unconscious till the morning.” At this, he touched his cheek again. It was still tender to the touch, but the pain was already considerably less.

“While I was conveniently knocked out, Eye Patch, Huber, and Margo – that’s Lauren Bacall’s real name, by the way-”
“Margo,” repeated Sophie, trying it on. “Seems so exotic for a place like this.”

“Ah, you know how it is, parents name their kids all kinds of aspirational things. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes it goes the other way. Anyway, the three of them entered the depot around seven last night.

“All of them, Claire, the conductor, Eye Patch, Margo, and Huber were all up in someone’s office for a few hours. I don’t know what they had to talk about for so long, but I’m not going to speculate since I wasn’t invited, and my head already hurts too much. Sometime around eleven, someone heard a gunshot.”

“A gunshot?” Sophie turned sharply to Evan. “Cut to the chase. My nerves can’t take it. Is Claire all right?”

“And spoil you getting to hear the events the way I found them out?” Evan smiled. “So, the single gunshot rings out, and the attentive employees of the night shift come running to check things out. They’re told by the lot of them that everything is A-okay.”

“No one was hurt?”

Evan shrugged.

“Did you talk to any witnesses?”

Evan nodded, “I spoke with a guy, you’d like him, who talked directly to the conductor after the whole gunshot thing. Saw his face and everything. This guy says he thought the whole interchange was odd but didn’t know the conductor well. And from what he could see with his eyes, the conductor told the truth. Everything was fine.”

“So, what was the point of the meeting?” Sophie asked.

Evan shrugged. “I can only assume it had to do with this pearl business, but ultimately your guess is as good as mine. ‘Round midnight, the party broke up.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Evan said. “Well, except for one more thing.”

Sophie slapped the top of the desk, “Honestly, Evan, you could give a girl a complex. Out with it.”

“No one has seen the conductor since. He was supposed to ride out of town this afternoon but never showed up and missed his train.”

Sophie began to pace the floor. “So,” she began, “either the conductor started the fire to hide the evidence before skipping town, or our merry band of outlaws murdered him and burned him up in the fire to cover it up.”

Evan arched one eyebrow, “Well, now who’s been reading too many dime crime novels? No,” he exhaled, “I don’t think the conductor had anything to do with the fire. First off, it was on the opposite side of the depot from his office, and second, it started hours after the meeting broke up.”

Sophie was just about to offer up another theory when they heard the front door open, followed by several heavy footsteps clomp and slide on the linoleum tiles. Evan and Sophie watched the strange frame lumber toward them. Just outside of Evan’s office, the man stopped and looked up. His eyes were bloodshot and sweat beaded up in large drops on his face.

“Gold?” the man struggled to ask.

“That’s me,” Evan instinctively stood between the stranger and Sophie.

The man thrust out a small package and started to lose his strength to stand. He tilted this way and that for a second, and then his knees buckled. Evan was just able to get his hands under the stranger’s armpits and guide him to the floor. The package rolled out of the man’s loose grip.

Sophie started to make her way to Evan’s phone. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“Not yet,” Evan said, his hands feeling the man’s throat for a pulse. “He’s already dead.” Sophie put her hand to her mouth. Seeing that the sight of the dead man mesmerized her, Evan said, “Sophie, Sophie!” She snapped her eyes back over to him. “Listen to what I’m going to tell you. Lock the outside door. Make sure we look closed. We don’t need more visitors. Not right now anyway.”

Sophie silently did her duty. When she came back to Evan, he was feeling around the man’s torso. “Was she shot?”
“I can’t tell,” Evan grunted. “I can’t see any blood, and there aren’t any holes. Help me get his coat off.” Sophie did, but still, no wounds were visible. Evan unbuttoned the man’s shirt. After three buttons, several strange marks made themselves known. Each injury looked like a spider’s web of black and blue veins. They made Evan think of the wound on his right hand and took care to keep his palm hidden from Sophie.

“What did that?” Sophie asked of the man’s wounds.

“Whatever it is, it isn’t natural,” Evan said before quickly re-buttoning the man’s shirt. “Whatever or whoever caused those wounds, my guess is they’re close by. I can’t imagine this guy got very far with them. We need to be ready for anything.

“Evan, I’m scared,” Sophie said. Evan noticed her hands trembling as she gazed at the fallen man.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Evan said, “but we have work to do. I need you to do this scared. Can you do that?”

Sophie’s wide eyes looked at Evan. After a moment, she nodded.

“Alright,” Evan said and then remembered the package, found it, and picked it up. It was no bigger than what would hold a ring box and sealed with kraft tape. He fished in his desk drawer for a letter opener and used it to cut the box’s seal. Evan pulled out another box wrapped in white tissue paper. Evan brought it over to his desk. Sophie followed him and watched as Evan smoothed out the tissue paper and pulled up the lid on the box.

Inside lay a black jeweler’s box. Evan pried open the lid, and there, nestled in white satin, was a white orb like the pearl Evan hoped was still in Katherine’s possession. He reached out to hold it in his fingers. Though it was the size of a marble, he could tell instantly that this orb was not Lillian, which both relieved and worried Evan.

“Is that…?” Sophie said breathlessly.

“Doesn’t much matter,” Evan said, “someone thinks it is, and as long as it’s here, we’re in grave danger.” He quickly restored the packaging to its original condition.

“What are we supposed to do with it?” Sophie asked.

“Give me a minute. Let me think.”

Just then, the phone rang. Sophie looked at Evan with eyes asking if she should risk picking it up. Evan nodded. Sophie picked up the receiver and talked briefly with the other end before ending the call.

“It was Claire,” she said, her eyes very wide and on the verge of tears. Evan’s interest piqued. “She’s at her apartment and in terrible trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” Evan asked.

“She couldn’t say. Just that she was in trouble, and you should help her. Evan, please go help her.”

Evan looked at Sophie, the dead body, then at the package, and back to Sophie. He tucked the box in his inside coat pocket.

“Okay. Here’s how we’re going to play this. I want you to do a couple of things for me. Call the police, not an ambulance, the police. Have them take care of the body.”

Sophie nodded. “What if they ask about you?”

“If they don’t ask, don’t tell them. Avoid it if possible. I need to buy some time to figure this out and not have the police chasing after me. Oh, and don’t tell say anything about the package either. Don’t lie about it, but don’t offer up any information. You know the drill.”

Sophie nodded.

“Good girl.” Evan placed both hands on Sophie’s shoulders and looked into her worried eyes. “If memory serves, we’ve been through some rough scrapes together, you and me. You’re going to do just fine.”

Sophie nodded.

Evan squeezed her shoulders and said, “You’re the best,” then he opened the office door.

“Where are you going?”

“To help our damsel in distress.”

“Wait!” Sophie said and pointed to the deceased man lying on the office floor. “Do you have any guess who he was? Have you seen him before?”

Evan looked again at the man’s pale and lifeless face. He shook his head. “Can’t say I’ve seen him before, but if I were to take a wild guess, I would say he’s probably our missing train conductor.” Evan smiled apologetically at Sophie before bolting out of the office.