The Case Of The Missing Bride - Robert F. Clifton (red novels .txt) 📗

Partheana's missing. After writing about the search she only entered things like appointments, invitations, teas, things like that”.

“Still, I'd like to read it”, said Robert.

“It's at the museum. I think I know where I put it. I'll drop it off”.

“Good, now where does that door go to?”

“The attic. The place with the hole in the roof and a half a ton of bird shit on the floor. If you want to look at it, be my guest. I'll wait here”, warned Kaplan.

“No thanks. I'll take your word for it”.

“Good, the attic's empty anyway. We cleaned it out years ago”, said Boo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Writings

 

Captain Robert Wallace sat at his office desk reading reports submitted by his staff in relation to on going, but cold case investigations. As he read each one he wrote his initials in the upper left hand corner of each document, indicating that he had read and approved the written accounts. From time to time he would stop, rub his eyes, take a sip of luke warm coffee from the stained mug he had been drinking out of for years, then, continue to read again.

He looked up at the light tapping sound on his open office door. Standing in the doorway was Detective Carol Myers. “Excuse me Captain. A man calling himself a Mr. Kaplan left this package for you”, she said as she walked to the desk and handed the brown paper wrapped parcel to Wallace.

“Thank you Carol”, he said.

Although interrupted by the arrival of what he was certain was Priscilla White's diary, he fought the urge to unwrap the book and read it. Instead, he open his briefcase, placed the diary inside, then closed the case and returned to the boring task he had been doing most of the morning.

At four thirty that afternoon Wallace walked into his house and placed the briefcase on the floor next to his favorite chair. He looked at his wife as he was standing near to her desk. “What's for dinner?”, he asked.

“That's it? What's for dinner? No, hello. No, how are you. No, how was your day? Just, what's for dinner? O.K. hotshot, dinner is a beef stew that's been cooking in the crock pot all day. Take it or leave it”, said Mary.

“With or without dumplings?”, asked Wallace.

“Without. If you want dumplings you make them”, Mary responded.

“No problem. As you know I'm a wiz in the kitchen”, said Robert.

“Yeah, you're a wiz. Anything happen today that I should know about?”, she asked.

“Still, the inquisitive reporter, aren't you? No, nothing. Boo dropped off Sally White's diary today. I'll look at it after supper. Right now I want to shower and get comfortable.

“Interesting. Can I take a peek at it while you're in the shower?”, Mary asked.

“Sure it's in my briefcase. It's a brown wrapped package. The diary is an antique so you better wear gloves. You'll find a couple of pairs of rubber gloves in the case. After I shower, I'll make the dumplings”, said Robert as he left the room.

Showered and refreshed and dressed in tan Bermuda shorts and a white Tee-Shirt Wallace walked barefoot into the kitchen. As he was reaching for the flour and baking powder from the kitchen cabinets

Mary called to him. “Did you know that Pathreana White had two sisters?”, she asked.

“No”, he answered.

“Sally mentioned them in her diary. One girls name was Sophronia the other was called Philomena”..

“Boo never mentioned any sisters”, said Robert, as he turned up the heat on the crock pot.

“Maybe he didn't think it was important”, said Mary.

“Possibly. What else did she write?”

“She was concerned about the girl's handwriting. She wrote, “Although I have purchased Platt Rogers Spencer and Rice's book, The System of Business and Ladies Penmanship, I find that the girls are still writing poorly. I can understand Partheana's problem, her being left handed, but there is no excuse for Sophronia and Philomena. I must admit however, that Philomena being very young has a lot to do with her problem. I must speak to Mr. Harris”.

“I wonder who Mr. Harris was?”, asked Robert.

“I don't know. When will the dumplings be ready?”, asked Mary.

“About ten minutes. Looking forward to them, aren't you?”

“Oh yeah. I don't know what I'd do without you in the kitchen”.

“Probably serve beef stew without dumplings”, said Robert.

That evening, after dinner, Robert Wallace picked up the diary then took a seat in his chair. Opening the journal of Sally White he began to read. As he did Mary returned to her word processor and continued to work on an article she was writing.

“Listen to this. This is dated, Friday, January 28, 1859. “Today I met with the girls tutor. Mr. Harris has indicated that he would be seeking a raise in salary after the summer. The reason he presented to me is the fact that Mrs. Macmillan was raising his rent at her boarding house. I will discuss the matter with Benjamin. However, since we are already paying him twenty three dollars and ten cents per month I see no reason to pay him more.”

“Well, we now know who Mr. Harris was”, said Robert.

“We also know the Partheana was thirteen when Priscilla made this entry in 1859, but how old were the other sisters? We know that Philomena was the youngest daughter, but how old was Sophronia?”, Said Wallace

“Why is the age of Sophronia so important to you?', asked Mary.

“In the eighteen hundreds it was usual for the daughters of the rich to marry young, say fourteen to sixteen years old, Normally, the average age of the groom was twenty five. The difference in age between men and women, so they say, is that the man played the field, while the girls didn't have to”, said Robert.

“What does that have to do with Sophronia?”, asked Mary.

“If she was older than Partheana was she single or married? Keep in mind that arranged marriages existed then as they do now. So, if she was married, who was her husband? Was he at the wedding reception?”, said Robert.

“I don't see the significance” Mary added.

“A single sibling of marriage age could be jealous, angry or provoked to the point of doing bodily harm”, Wallace replied.

“So, now you have the girls sisters as suspects?”, asked Mary.

“Not at all. However, right now everyone that was at the wedding reception at the mansion could be a suspect”, said Wallace.

“A suspect of what. You don't know that a crime was committed”, said Mary.

“True, but I could have a case of sibling rivalry And that could lead to something”, Robert responded.

“Well, if you want to know the age of the White daughters you'll probably need the family bible where the births, death, and marriages should be recorded”, advised Mary

“I'll ask Boo in the morning. Right now, I intend to read this diary and see what else I can find”, said Robert.

While Mary worked, Robert read. He turned page after page of the diary, looking, searching for any information, any piece of the puzzle that would fit and create what he was after, the complete picture.

Wallace looked towards Mary and said, “This is interesting. She wrote, “The Bakers sent word that they would be arriving for the Easter weekend, April 22, 23, 24. They requested reservations for three. Their son William will be accompanying them.

Upon their arrival I will inform them that the Reverend William White will conduct a sunrise service here on the grounds of the estate”.

“That Easter date might have been when William Baker and Partheana first met”, said Mary.

“Could be. This diary is for the year 1859. I've got to see if Boo has anymore. Maybe each girl kept a journal”, Wallace replied.

“And, the family bible”, Mary added.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

Samplers

A steady rain beat down on the boardwalk and a wind blowing in off of the ocean forced him to walk with his head slightly bowed. As Robert Wallace walked he kept Priscilla White's diary safe and dry under his coat. From time to time he ducked under the lowered store front awnings attempting to stay as dry as possible. Still, there were a few shops that weren't open for business and lacked sunshades. When he came to those places the wind blew precipitation in his face. Reaching the front door of the museum Wallace tried the door and found it locked. Aggravated, he shook the door a few times and getting no response banged on the thick, glass pane window. He stepped back when he saw Boo Kaplan emerge from of a back room.

After Kaplan unlocked the door and allowed Wallace to enter the museum he looked at the police Captain and said, “Sorry, I was in the back taking inventory. With no one else here I locked the door”.

“You being sorry doesn't prevent me from getting a wet ass. Do you have any towels?”

“There's paper towels in the dispenser in the restroom”, Boo answered and pointed.

“Wonderful. Before this gets wet take it and thank you”,Wallace said handing Priscilla White's diary to Boo.

“I hope it was useful”, Boo answered as Wallace walked to where the paper towels were.

“It was. Now, I need the family bible or bibles” Wallace replied as he walked into the restroom.

Once inside Robert removed his blazer, then shook the rain from it. Finding a hook on the back of the

lavatory door he placed the garment on it hoping that there, it would dry. Then, taking several paper towels from the dispenser, wiped his head, then his face, finally finishing by combing his hair while looking into the large mirror that was installed on the wall over the sinks.

Almost dry except where the rain had soaked through to his shirt, Wallace took his blazer and walked out on to the museum floor. Not seeing Boo, he yelled, “Now where in the hell are you?”

“I'm back here in storage”, Kaplan answered.

Wallace walked towards the sound of the curator's voice. Seeing an open door at the rear of the large room he passed through. Once inside the storage room he stooped and stood among row after row of artifacts. Old wool bathing suits were hanging from wooden clothes hangers. Straw hats and Panama hats were resting on steel shelving. Books and newspapers were stacked one upon another, some stacks were almost six feet tall.

He turned his attention to Boo and said, You're damn lucky you haven't had a fire in here. Did you ever hear of a combustible fire?”

“Now you see why I need more financing. I've run out of room.”

“Hey, I believe you. What about the family bible?”

“Sorry, if there is one, I don't have it. What did you need for exactly', asked Boo.

“I'm trying to come up with the ages of Partheana's two sisters”.

“If that's all you need then I can solve your problem”, said Kaplan.

“How?”

"Sally, like many of her day did needle work. Fortunately for you I have several samplers sewed by her, one for each child. I have son Williams, which is pretty bad shape. However, those that she did for the girls are in excellent condition, So, far we haven't found any relating to the other men in the family. However, I believe that we have one that was done right after Partheana's disappearance”, said Kaplan as he placed the samplers on the counter top.

“Let's start with the birth dates, said Wallace.”

“Alright, here's the first sampler, related to Partheana”.

Wallace looked at the tan, square piece of linen and saw the needlework done by Priscilla White over a hundred years ago. He saw the alphabet and numerals stitched on the fabric and then, the following message,

Behold the Daughter of

Innocence, how Beautified

is the mildness of her heart

Partheana White

Born Feb 18, 1849

Taking a slightly damp note pad he then wrote down the information.

“Are you ready for the next one?”, asked Boo.

“Yes.”

“This one refers to Sophronia” Kaplan sad as he placed another sampler on the counter top.

Once again Wallace read the embroidered words on a piece of fabric,

On this Day, God Gave

Us A Most Precious Gift

Sophronia White

Born May 10, 1849

“Well, we now know that Sophronia was the