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The Waiting Room

~ Chapter Eighty-Six

Another Disappearance

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Ichabod stood over the bed. His inspection glasses covered his eyes as he meticulously searched for evidence.

A few stray hairs, Glen’s Walkman and one broken fingernail was all he could collect.
The bed showed no signs of, how was it Mr. Rainey described it, ‘eating’ the young boy. The mattress was solid.

‘Not a pleasant memory,” Jack Sparrow said flatly as he watched the inspector at work, recalling how he himself had crawled out of the depths of the bed.

Crane straightened from his investigation and looked to Sparrow. “You do not recall how you came to be in the bed. How you exited that day?”

Jack raised his cup. “I drink to forget that day, sir.” Then the pirate turned and pushed his way through the crowd, back to the bar for a refill of rum.

“What do you think, Constable?” Rainey asked. His concern was that the routine was being disrupted. A disrupted routine meant something was going on with Depp. Things were changing, perhaps.

“I think I need more time, Mr. Rainey. Could we please clear the room so I can work in peace. Thank you, gentlemen!”

The men filtered out of the room until all were gone. Alone, Crane began to make a second sweep of the bed linens. He was sorry he had not spent more time with the lad. Perhaps a better knowledge of the boy would lead him to better clues.

But now it was too late for that. Now he only had the clues before him.

A noise caught his attention and he glanced up to see the pirate swaying in the doorway.

“What is it Captain? Can’t you see I am working here?”

With a sneer of his lips Jack mumbled. “I think ye best be getting out to the bar, Constable Crane.”

“The bar?” Crane pulled the head gear off. “I can most assure you, Captain, I am in no need for liberation through spirits right now. I must admit, I exceeded my limit last night.”

“I wasn’t invitin’ ye fer drinks. I was requestin’ yer presence on a professional matter.”

His curiosity aroused, Crane followed the Captain out to the bar.

Jack waved his had in the direction of the bar. “He’s not here.”

Crane frowned. Then sighed.

“I most certainly could have told you that, Captain Sparrow, from the bedroom. Mr Lantz is neither in the bedroom nor at the bar…"

“Not the lad…at least not that lad.” Sparrow interrupted. “The other one.” He waved again towards the empty bar.

Crane turned around to look over the Room. He scanned the many faces, each one uninterested in the missing Lantz boy. Well, all except Mort Rainey. Crane could not help but notice the concern on the writer’s face.

The constable then turned back to the pirate who was now behind the bar, helping himself to a fine rum.

“Don’t know who in the bloody ‘ell he was saving this for.” he grumbled as he filled his cup, then took a swig from the bottle. Crane winced at the memory of his earlier drunken state.

“Well?” Sparrow leaned in Crane’s direction. “Do ye think they’ve run off together? They both were a bit on the fair side ye know. Not far from the lass I’d say, exceptin’ they didn’t wear women’s clothes.” He said the last with a pointed nod in BonBon’s direction.

Confused by Jack’s question, Ichabod glanced over at BonBon who was busy looking over Edward’s latest scissored creation. From where he stood Crane heard BonBon’s murmur.

“You are so good with them, Edward. So quick, so neat, so …so detailed.”

Edward gave her a shy smile. “I had a good teacher.” he told her.

Crane turned back to Sparrow. “So why did you draw me away from my crime scene, Captain Sparrow? What was so important it could not wait until later or even tomorrow?”

Jack stepped closer to Crane, bringing his hands up, fingers pointed at his face.

“If you would look more carefully, Constable Crane, me thinks that ye will find that we are missing more than one young lad. It seems we have a second one who has fled from our cozy abode.”

Crane then realized that the Captain was talking of the younger Jack, the one who had come from the private resort. He gave a glance over his shoulder towards the bedroom, remembering the personal effects that had been left behind.

“Well, Captain,” he turned back to find Jack had left his side and was back behind the bar. At first surprised at the pirate’s quickness, he composed himself and continued with his question.

“The disappearance of Mr. Lantz left us with his Walkman. What makes you think….oh my!”

Jack stood before Crane, a tankard of rum in one hand…young Jack’s clothes in the other.

Jack saw the shock on the constable’s face and gave a half a sneer.

“Looks to me constable that the young man from the private resort is …well…not being so private about himself, now is he?”


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