Read Online The Girl in the Glass by Jeffrey Ford - Free Book Online
Authors: Jeffrey Ford
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Historical fiction, Historical, Historical - General, Fiction - Historical, Sagas, Suspense fiction, Swindlers and Swindling, American Historical Fiction, Depressions, Spiritualists, Mediums, Seances
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and we checked the papers to see if there had been any break in the case. The search parties continued, the police were still on the job, but the girl had not surfaced, dead or alive. Schell pored over the meager information we'd brought him, and to see what he could turn up, he put in some calls to friends of his who traveled in high society. He was curious to find out if our subject had any shady dealings and if his marriage was sound. From all accounts, Barnes, though filthy rich, seemed to be a straight shooter
On the afternoon of the second day, Schell and Antony were out getting the local papers and I'd just sent Mrs. Hendrickson on her way after a brutal session focusing on my Middle English pronunciations, when the phone rang. I ran through the kitchen to the office and grabbed it on the fifth ring.
"Hello," I said, out of breath.
There was silence, and I thought for a moment that I'd been too late. Then a soft voice said, "Hola." A pause followed. "Do you know who this is?"
There was a vague fluttering in my chest. "Yes," I said.
"You left something behind when you were here last," she said.
"A sombrero?" I asked.
"Sí."
"Have you shown it to anyone else?" I asked.
"Solamente los fantasmas," she said.
I forced a laugh.
"Si lo quieres, ven esta noche. Eleven o'clock on the beach behind the mansion."
"What'll happen if I don't show?" I asked, but she'd already hung up.
THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS AT NIGHT
A t ten o'clock that night, Antony went down the hall to the Bugatorium, knocked on the door, and called, "Boss, me and the kid are going out for a drive. I gotta get some smokes. Do you want to go?" We were hoping he'd stay put, because all Schell would have needed was one look at us to tell we were up to something. Luckily, he called out, as I had surmised he would, "No, I'd better not in case Barnes tries to contact us."
I wasn't happy about hiding our venture from Schell, but Antony was dead set on him not finding out about the hat. "Schell doesn't look kindly on screwups," was how he'd put it to me.
"He screwed up himself that night," I said.
"You don't get it, kid," he said. "I'll take you over there. You get the hat from the girl and we'll be back here before anybody knows what's up."
I went along with it, hating to see the big man in a quandary.
Antony knew of a spot along the North Shore, close to the Parks place, where there was a municipal stairway that led down from the cliffs to the beach. All of the estates had their own private access, usually protected by locked gates. The cliffs were an excellent security feature, and since most of the real estate along the sound was privately owned, it was tough finding a way onto the beach unless you wanted to hoof it in from one of the more eastern towns.
At about ten-thirty, he pulled over at the side of a road bordered by woods. Through the dark I could just make out the head of a trail leading in among the trees toward the sound.
"Once you hit the beach, head west. Parks's place is about three-quarters of a mile down the beach," he said. "And for Christ sake, be careful on those steps."
"You're going to wait for me, right?" I asked.
"I'm gonna drive up to Wintchell's speak, have a beer, get a couple of packs, and be back in forty minutes. If I'm sitting here all that time and a cop comes along, they're gonna want to know what I'm doing. So move your ass as fast as you can. Don't make me wait."
"It's dark out there," I said.
"Yeah, that's what happens at night. Don't worry, the moon's out tonight. Once you get past the trees, it won't be so bad."
I sighed, shook my head, and got out of the car.
"Good luck," he said as I swung the door shut. Then the Cord pulled away and was gone. Although the late September days had been warm, this night was windy and cool, a strong breeze blowing in from the east. Laced in with the distinctive aroma of the sound was that of true autumn. I'd chosen to leave all of my Ondoo regalia at home and dress in normal
On the afternoon of the second day, Schell and Antony were out getting the local papers and I'd just sent Mrs. Hendrickson on her way after a brutal session focusing on my Middle English pronunciations, when the phone rang. I ran through the kitchen to the office and grabbed it on the fifth ring.
"Hello," I said, out of breath.
There was silence, and I thought for a moment that I'd been too late. Then a soft voice said, "Hola." A pause followed. "Do you know who this is?"
There was a vague fluttering in my chest. "Yes," I said.
"You left something behind when you were here last," she said.
"A sombrero?" I asked.
"Sí."
"Have you shown it to anyone else?" I asked.
"Solamente los fantasmas," she said.
I forced a laugh.
"Si lo quieres, ven esta noche. Eleven o'clock on the beach behind the mansion."
"What'll happen if I don't show?" I asked, but she'd already hung up.
THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS AT NIGHT
A t ten o'clock that night, Antony went down the hall to the Bugatorium, knocked on the door, and called, "Boss, me and the kid are going out for a drive. I gotta get some smokes. Do you want to go?" We were hoping he'd stay put, because all Schell would have needed was one look at us to tell we were up to something. Luckily, he called out, as I had surmised he would, "No, I'd better not in case Barnes tries to contact us."
I wasn't happy about hiding our venture from Schell, but Antony was dead set on him not finding out about the hat. "Schell doesn't look kindly on screwups," was how he'd put it to me.
"He screwed up himself that night," I said.
"You don't get it, kid," he said. "I'll take you over there. You get the hat from the girl and we'll be back here before anybody knows what's up."
I went along with it, hating to see the big man in a quandary.
Antony knew of a spot along the North Shore, close to the Parks place, where there was a municipal stairway that led down from the cliffs to the beach. All of the estates had their own private access, usually protected by locked gates. The cliffs were an excellent security feature, and since most of the real estate along the sound was privately owned, it was tough finding a way onto the beach unless you wanted to hoof it in from one of the more eastern towns.
At about ten-thirty, he pulled over at the side of a road bordered by woods. Through the dark I could just make out the head of a trail leading in among the trees toward the sound.
"Once you hit the beach, head west. Parks's place is about three-quarters of a mile down the beach," he said. "And for Christ sake, be careful on those steps."
"You're going to wait for me, right?" I asked.
"I'm gonna drive up to Wintchell's speak, have a beer, get a couple of packs, and be back in forty minutes. If I'm sitting here all that time and a cop comes along, they're gonna want to know what I'm doing. So move your ass as fast as you can. Don't make me wait."
"It's dark out there," I said.
"Yeah, that's what happens at night. Don't worry, the moon's out tonight. Once you get past the trees, it won't be so bad."
I sighed, shook my head, and got out of the car.
"Good luck," he said as I swung the door shut. Then the Cord pulled away and was gone. Although the late September days had been warm, this night was windy and cool, a strong breeze blowing in from the east. Laced in with the distinctive aroma of the sound was that of true autumn. I'd chosen to leave all of my Ondoo regalia at home and dress in normal
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