Robert Walker - City for Ransom

City For Ransom

Robert W. Walker

Series: Inspector Alastair Ransom [1] Published: 2005

Historical Mystery 19th Century

Growing up in Chicago in the fifties and sixties, I found a frienda second mother, reallyin Miss Evelyn Page, an extraordinary teacher of languageand speech at Wells High, and when she made a giftof a small bookcase that I admired, she said, Youcan thank me by filling it with books youve read.

I arrogantly replied, How bout I fill it with books I write?

She answered simply, Thatll do as well. Fill it with your characters.

Deal.

Deal.

Before she passed away, Evelyn Page knew Id filled that bookcase twice over. She also knew that I was living my dreamsdreams she nurtured. A theater major and graduate of Northwestern University, shed studied with Karl Malden, but she chose to become ateacher instead of Maldens co-star. My good fortune,for she championed me and gave me the opportunity togo to NU when it was my turn. But more importantly,she gave me a license to be myself and the courage,early on, to believe in myself; to believe myself awriter of purpose. For this reason, wherever her soulresides, I send out this dedication to find her . . . forshe so loved Chicago and her house on Chase andSheridan Road, and no doubt, she wouldve treasureda copy of City for Ransom.

CHAPTER 1

Illinois Central Train Station, Chicago, June 1, 1893

Yanked from a heated card game to investigate another murder, the third garroting in as many weeks, Inspector Alastair Ransom arrived angry. The rhythm his cane beat across the marble floor stopped when he hit a wall of odorsthe winner: charred flesh. The smell dredged up memories of the Haymarket Riot and bombing, some seven years ago. The odors brought up another memory as wellone of a particularly grueling botched interrogation hed conducted just before the infamous riot in Haymarket Square, a memory hed hoped to have forgotten even more so than the labor riot itself.

But here it sat upon his mind, full-blown as if yesterday, thanks to this victims fetid demise.

In an irritatingly gruff voice that made Inspector Alastair Ransoms hair stand on end, Dr. James Phineas Tewes shouted, Inspector Ransom, finally, someone in charge.

Can I help you?

I insist on a scientifically accurate, thorough phrenological diagnosis on the dead boys cranium to determine his magnetic levels at the time of death.

Phrenological what?

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ROBERT W. WALKER

Im conducting a study, you see and

Magnetic levels? What nonsense! Read the dead boys charred cranium? What possible good could your questionable art of reading skulls do either him or my investigation?

Hes dead, for Gods

But Chief Kohler approved and a

His heads smoldering yet from being torched! Gdamn you, Tewes! This is a murder investigation. Youve no busi

And your superiors, sir, sent me to examine Tewes stopped to catch another glimpse of the body, now half hidden by Ransoms considerable girth. Despite the black, smoldering lump of flesh leaning against the column, Dr.

Tewes forged on. I will make my observations and complete my mission here, Inspector! Were conducting an experiment.

Ransom tightened his teeth around an unlit pipe and tapped the floor with his cane. He scratched at his day-old stubble and stared long at the scrawny, parasitic scavenger everyone called a doctor, James Phineas Tewesa little man of whom he thought little. He turned his back on Tewes to shout instead for his second in command. Griff!

Griffin.

Yes, Inspector! Griffin Drimmer called back.

Get Keane in here to do the photographic work, so we can mop up this mess. Ransom indicated a blackened, charred faceless body propped against a pillar at the Baltimore and Ohio side of the building, second-floor balustrade.

The marble floor around the body, also charred and blackened, told a tale in blood as it trailed from the mens room to the pillar.

The corpses still smoldering head flopped forward, a quiet but echoing snap telegraphing a bone-cracking eruption at the terminus of the spine, incrementally giving way to the weight of the skull. The head had very nearly been cut off.

You may ignore me, Inspector, but you cant ignore this! Tewes, a dapper man in topcoat, suit ascot, his mustache twitching, claimed to psychically read peoples heads CITY FOR RANSOM

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as Gypsies read tea leaves or palms. But Tewes went to the extreme, claiming to diagnose illnesses and render cures to melancholia and other mental maladies with some sort of magnetic mumbo-jumbo in association with laying-on-of-hands. Little more than a snake-oil salesman.

Despite Ransoms attempts to stifle Tewes, the so-called phrenologist continued to wave a note. The note had the expensive watermark representing Kohlers office.

Dont be a fool, Ransom, Tewes warned.

Never, sir.

Dont dare stand in my way. Not with this in my hand!

An express order from your superior.

You use the term superior too loosely, sir, and I dont react well to threats, Doctor. Ransom made the word doctor sound like quack.

I know about you. Every law-abiding citizen in Chicago wants Kohler to give you the boot for your extravagant interpretations of the law, Tewes began in a more sour tone.

Your ill-treatment of prisoners, your questionable interrogation techniques.

Really now?

The stuff of dark legend. Everyone fearing you!

Makes my job easier. Ransom gave a moments thought to his ill-gotten, half-deserved reputationthe half that remained in peoples minds. Tewes had kindly left out his addiction to gambling, tobacco, whiskey, quinine, and women.

You cant stop the march of science or progress, Inspector!

Science? Progress?

Police science, yes.

Really now?

I represent the hope that police operations improve evidence-gathering tech

By paying out a handsome fee to the likes of you, Doctor?

Youre as rough a fellow as I was warned!

Aye, I am that.

And stubborn! Knowing that Kohler himself wishes my 4

ROBERT W. WALKER

participation on this case! Tewes again waved the note in Alastairs face. For Gods sake, man. Read it!

Why? Youve already revealed its content. Ransom punctuated his words with the unlit pipe, jabbing at Tewes.

Look here, my patience is in short supply, and youve no business here, mister!

This says otherwise!

Youre not affiliated with the Chicago Police force or Dr.

Christian Fengers Coroners Office. And if you dare get in my way again, Ill have you arrested for obstructing an ongoing investigation.

Tewess curled handlebar mustache twitched anew like a tadpole under the muted train station gaslight.

Ransom saw a uniformed copper and shouted, OMalley! Take Dr. Tewes here out of my sight. Ransom turned his back on Tewess raised hand, the note still flourishing birdlike over his head as OMalley gently guided Tewes off.

You damned, daft fool! Tewes shouted to no avail.

Inspector Ransom returned to the still-smoldering body thatd been doused with either petrol or kerosene, and then with water. In two previous such cases, the fire investigator had determined kerosene the accelerant.

Ransom immediately noticed a bloody handprint, left on the marble floor; the trail of blood led him to inspect the mens room. Drimmer pointed out the sliced off digits in the sink. Ransom went over to the body again, studying the handprint more closely. The print has all its fingers. It isnt the boys, unless the killer snipped off his fingers here and returned to the mens room to deposit each digit in the sink, but that feels counterintuitive. Griffin Drimmer replied, Then the print belongs to the killer!