The Waiting Room
~ Chapter Eighty-Six
Another Disappearance
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?”