Blueing

Chapter 8  Bluing

      The New York Central eased to a halt, steam blowing into the August morning. They watched as a black Ford drew up to the station and the driver went around to the passenger side and undid handcuffs from the passenger’s wrists. The passenger straightened his vest, stroked his goatee, and rubbed his wrists as he walked with the sheriff to the train. George said “Looks like the boys down here have someone they don’t want to stay in town”

      The goatee man walked past them and sat down across the aisle and two seats back.

      When the conductor came along to punch his ticket, he said “When do we get to New York?”

      Conductor said “It takes about six hours, if we don’t have any mechanical or other problems”

      Carroll sat watching the farms and small towns drift by the window and then said to George. “Go have a chat with Mr. Goatee. He doesn’t fit somehow. Usually vagrants aren’t dressed so well. Find out who he is and where he’s going and why the Rutland constabulary put him on the train”

      George smiled as he took a pack of cards from his pocket. He liked this kind of challenge.

      Outside his window, the rain made rings in the already wet Bloor Street. The rushing water had washed the streets of the usual accumulation of paper and horse dung. Toronto actually didn’t smell too bad once it had a good bath. Adams paced back to the window and gazed out…..still no word. Picking up the phone he rang the operator asked for the confectioner’s number.  “I need 6 crème cakes” he said. “All right I’ll take those. Deliver them to 250 Bloor Street west at 3:00 PM. That’s half an hour from now. You should be able to make that”. He slammed the receiver down missing the quiet click that followed. Putting on his cap and overcoat he locked the door and headed down to the street level. As he got on the trolley, he again missed seeing him step out of the door of the shop next door and follow him. The follower’s cloth cap, working man’s jacket and trousers, didn’t quite hide Mason’s erect posture and military stride.  At the next stop he noticed Mae get on and thought, “They really must want this guy” He looked at her and she gave him a little half smile of recognition. They both stayed on the trolley with Adams until he got to Bloor and Yonge Streets. There Adams moved with the rest of the passengers to the door. Mason followed and noticed Mae get off and cross the street, but follow Adams too. As he moved along Bloor, he tried to blend with the other walkers, but then they turned into the shops and offices along Bloor and he had to drop back and spent a moment looking into a convenient window. Across the street Mae increased her pace. She saw Adams looking at numbers and then enter a hardware store. “Won’t buy any strawberry turnovers in there” she thought. Walking on by the shop she glanced in and saw Adams in conversation with a blond haired young man. She looked back at Mason and then nodded. He went on to the next street, turned and came back the alley behind the hardware store. He waited behind the corner of a shed that housed the hardware’s gig and horse.  Meanwhile Mae noticed a tea room just down the street across from the hardware store. Ordering tea, she sat and watched.

      After checking to see there were no other customers, Adams said “I haven’t heard from you or from your man on the train. What is happening?

      The blond young man grinned at Adams. “Neither have I but don’t worry, Spitzbart  has never let me down. I know he’ll be in touch.”

      They spun around as the door opened and the bell suspended from the lintel was disturbed. A uniformed telegraph delivery boy entered and asked, “Is this the International Hardware Store?”

      The blond young man said “You are in the right place”

      “I have a telegram for you. Please sign here”

      The young man scribbled his name

      Detained by Rutland sheriff 24 hours.

      lost target

      Think have gone to New York am following

      Contact Chatham Hotel, NY

                                                       Spitzbart                                                                                     

      “Is there a reply sir?” the courier asked

      Adams thought for a moment and then said “Send this,

      “Will contact at Chatham”

      “That’s all sir?”, the boy asked

      “Yes, that’s all”

      Across the street Mae saw the boy check the pant clip on his trouser leg, mount his bicycle and ride off. Seeing a phone she gave the clerk 5 cents and dialed a number.

      “Hi Maggie”, she said “could I talk to Dr Mc Nichol please? Hello Doctor This is Mae. Adams just sent a telegram off with a Grand Trunk courier. Could you intercept it? Yes sir. Mason and I will keep track of him. I’ll be in touch sir. Thank you sir”

      She hung up and left the café. The rain had finally stopped. She walked casually across the street and entered the International Hardware Store. Adams was gone, but the blonde young man was still there. “Do you have any bluing?, she asked

      “Certainly,” said the young man and moving to the back of the store he reached into a drawer and came back with the small package. “I’ll wrap it for you, as it gets over everything” he said.

      Paying the young man, she asked “Do you mind if I just go out the back door. My apartment is across the alley”

      “Not at all”, he said. Mae put the package in the handbag and followed him to the back door. “Thank you”, she said and headed across the now steaming yard past the shed. Glancing each way at the lane, she saw the erect figure of Mason walking to the west. About 100 yards ahead of him she saw the retreating  Adams.