Tyro Vogel - The Girl with the Scarab Necklace

In the year 1903 I was honorably discharged from the army, and Uncle Sam sent me back home to rub shoulders with all the other out-of-work boys roaming the streets. I got lucky: a buddy of mine got me a job at the port. Night shifts. Mine was a sad lot: night after night of back-breaking work, only to give half of my $1.50 a week pay for a room uglier than the rats Id shared it with. The rest of the money Id wisely spent on whiskey.

One particularly cold November morning I was keeping myself warm with a glass of Jack Daniels when Id decided my job could burn in hell. I put the glass down and reached out across the self-made table for yesterdays copy of the Chicago Daily News. It made sense to start with the job ads section. The first ad to catch my eye was printed in the corner of the page. It read,

Needed: Personal Assistant

Must have basic military training, good manners, know how to read and write. Interviews held between 14:00 and 16:00 on Wednesdays and Thursdays at 60620 Dresden Drive 7. Floor 2, Apartment 9. Only apply if your last name is Smith. No exceptions.

That last bit was a bit weird, but Ive had worse reasons for concern in my twenty years of age. My spirits lifted, I celebrated with another swing from the glass. Today was a Wednesday; I wound up my alarm clock to wake me at noon, slid down from the chair, and passed out on the mattress.

60620 Dresden Drive turned out to be less of a drive and more of a grey urban well. House block seven looked even greyer than its destitute neighbors. I let myself in through the scrawny-looking front door and carefully counted each of the forty two steps as Id made my way up to the second floor, just in case theyd ask. Feeling deservedly proud of myself, I knocked on door number nine.

Yes? a womans voice asked.

My names Adam Smith, Im here about the PA job?

Shuffling, and then the door opened as far as the chain lock allowed. A redhead woman, a head shorter than me, was looking at me with eyes of emerald green. She was wearing mans pants and a vest over a crisp white shirt that screamed business first, looks later. A silver scarab amulet hung from a string tied around her neck.

She slid the chain off. The entrance opened to a spacious office. A giant oak desk dominated the room like a locomotive in a horse stable; light shone into the room from two windows on each side of the desk. My host sat down behind it and invited me to sit in the chair opposite. I put my hat on the coat hanger and accepted the invitation.

Thank you for making the time to come, Mr. Smith, she said. My name is Jane Wesson. Would you allow me to ask you a few questions to see if this job is for you? If you have any questions of your own, Ill be happy to hear them afterwards.

Sure thing.

Thank you. These are not trick questions. Please answer as honestly as you can. My first question is, have you ever been incarcerated?

No maam.

What rank were you when you left active duty?

Specialist, maam.

Have you ever done any acting?

Eh, no maam, I cant say I have.

Please stop calling me maam, Mr. Smith. One last question, if I may. Where are you currently employed?

Mordinos Shipping Company, maam.

Mordinos Shipping? Which port?

The South-Eastern one, maam. Working night shifts at the moment.

You really dont have to call me maam, Jane would be fine. Failing that, Ms. Smith would do as well. Youre hired.

Excuse me?

You are hired, Mr. Smith. Congratulations. You start tomorrow.

And what is it that Im hired for, exactly?

Why, my Personal Assistant, of course.

Is this the time I can ask questions?

Please go ahead.

I decided to get the elephant out of the room. Whats the pay?

Five dollars a week plus accommodation. She nodded towards the Western wall. Two doors closed off the adjoining rooms. Ive got space to spare. Just dont get any ideas. Take it or leave it.

Five dollars a week! Ill be rich!

And what what exactly is it that I have to do?

Youll have to help out, Mr. Smith.

Help out with what, Ms. Wesson?

She opened a drawer and pulled out a small wooden plaque. You can start with nailing this to the door. The tools are in your room. Thatd be the door to the left, by the way.

I took the plaque and turned it over. The carved letters read, Smith & Wesson: A Detective Agency, as if it explained everything there was to know. Think of the money, I thought, got up, and headed for the room under my new bosss watchful eye. A hammer and four nails lay by the door. The room itself was at least as big as the rat-infested cellar Id called home until now, and it apparently came at the very affordable price of free.

Having learnt how to hammer a nail in the army the hard way (my rough estimate was that Id made half the bunk beds for the entire U.S. Infantry), the job was done in a couple of minutes. I returned to the chair.

Im sure youre wondering why from all the Mr. Smiths who came through my door Id decided to hire you. A military man with your last name is not hard to find. However, it is only by pure luck that you happen to be the Mr. Smith employed at the Chicago South-Eastern port. What do you know of the Victoria?

Nobody paid a man five dollars a month without expecting to make a profit. What kind of trouble was I getting myself into?

Thats a ship, I said. They docked at South Eastern the night before yesterday, but the rumors that theres some sort of a quarantine going on. Nobody got off, and the police closed off the entire dock. A plague or somesuch, they say, real nasty business.

I want you to get me on that ship. I need to be on it yesterday. Time is of the essence.

What? Why?

She leaned back in her chair and put her metal-tipped cowboy boots on the desk. I raised an eyebrow but had the good sense to remain silent. Theres someone very special onboard. Someone I have to see.

Who?

Mr. Sherlock Holmes, straight out of England. Hes here to receive the Congressional Gold Medal, to be awarded to him in secret by President Roosevelt himself. He and his assistant are on that ship.

Excuse me if I was too busy unloading crates to follow British celebrities, I thought. Id never seen the name in the Chicago Daily, either, so this Mr. Holmes couldnt have been too famous. Still, the Congressional Gold Medal was the highest honor United States could bestow on a civilian and it was awarded by the Congress, not the President. To have the President award it to an Englishman was strange, to say the least.

Who is Mr. Sherlock Holmes? I asked.

She gave me a disapproving look.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes is possibly the greatest detective who ever lived, Mr. Smith. His assistant, Dr. John H. Watson, wrote a number of accounts about the mans cases. Theyre all a bit over-dramatized, of course, but true nonetheless. He is a genius. Though perhaps its to be expected that hes famous in certain circles only I dont know which of his many accomplishments granted him this award from our countrys powers that be, but Im quite positive that they werent trivial.

I gave my new employer a critical look, thinking whether Ms. Wesson really knew things us everyday men didnt, or if she was just pulling my leg. She returned my stare without flinching and I smiled a little bit inside. Somehow Id felt a connection, as if shed seen the things Id seen, felt the things Id felt it made me wonder if she might have been an orphan too.

Im still at a loss about what it is that you want with this nontrivial gentleman, Ms. Wesson.

Why, business, of course! Have you read the sign you nailed to the door? I run a detective agency. Or, well, trying to, at least. Nobodyd ever trust a woman to do their detecting for them, so thats where you come in, Mr. Smith you will act as the public face of our agency, so to speak. But having a proper front isnt enough to bring in clients, Im afraid; nobodyd ever trust a detective they havent heard of before, either. She fiddled with her necklace. Think of it! One of the most famous men in the business is here, in our city, and immediately his ships under quarantine! Coincidence? I think not. We go there, we find out whats going on, and we get involved. And after we get involved, we try our damnedest to let the world know that the