AUGIE'S CORNER (work in progress)

Monday, September 26, 2011

The Case of the Missing Red Shoe

During the summer of 1912, I was fishing in the pond in the small town of Woodifist. This was such a small town; everybody knew everybody. We'd know when each baby was born, when someone was thinking of  getting married, when there was a death, even when Mr. Ole Forster got his last two good teeth pulled out from his mouth. There were no secrets here.
Now back to my fishing, I am considered to be one of the best fishermen in the whole county of Woodifist. I've been fishing every since my pappy taught me some years ago.
This happened to be one of the hottest times of the year for summer, nothing would really grow. There was a rationing of water, even we had to be careful when we took water from the local spring, but fortunately for me, my pappy had dug a well in the backyard of our house.
I know these parts well enough, as well as I know this ole fishing hole, I'd cast off my line and all of a sudden I'd hit something that I have never hit before. There on my line when I reeled it in was a worn red shoe. I have never seen anything like it in all my days, a shoe like that must belong to some rich lady.
At first I did not recall where I had seen that shoe before until I remembered about 3 years ago, there was a story in the local corner newsstand about a red shoe being found in the river and no one had ever seen it before. 
I sort of wondered if it could be the same type of shoe. I decided to go visit the library to read over some old issues of our little newsstand paper. What to my surprised did I find, was that the shoe in the paper was the identical to the one that I just found, except mine was all dingy with stuff all in it. 
I could not wait to get home to put on my Sherlock Holmes hat—I called my dog Dr. Watson, even though his real name was hound, and we'd start to investigate the story.
It seemed that about eight years ago, in the town of Huntsville there had been a strange disappearance of one of its most affluent members. All the information in the newspaper wasn’t too clear.
It was written that a Mrs. Barthletow Henton-Jameson, who was quite rich and affluent in the town, was missing. She never bothered anyone, and she was well liked by those who knew her. It seemed that just one day she just up and disappeared.
The paper also stated that a particular person, a lady to be exact, who owned a pair of shoes like the one that was found eight years ago, had disappeared. No one had ever found the other mate or the person who shoe it belonged to. .
That Ms. Henton-Jameson was very wealthy, old and sometimes forgetful. She loved to wear strange types of shoes and the mate to this shoe I found appeared to be the shoe that someone in the town had see her wearing at one time or another.
The newspaper did not know what happened to her, all they knew then was that she had visited the First and Trust National Bank earlier that particular day, and had withdrawn ten dollars.
It was apparent that the Constable at the time had the lake dragged, but there was no body found, everything possibly done in the town to find Mrs. Henton-Jameson had been done to the point of exhaustion. Every lead was followed, even the crazy ones.
It had been reported that Mrs. Henton-Jameson was seen with a group of foreigners that did not speak English, but that did not pan out. Another hoax was that she was seen being dragged into a movie theater, but the search there turned up nothing..
 The police surrounded the theater with guns drawn only to find seven children watching a Benji return home movie, as bored as any child would be on a clear, spring day., and one adult male--who happened to be one of the boys father.

Mr. Peadocket had taken the day off from work to spend time with his son and six of his son’s friends. “This was supposed to be a celebration of Orion’s birthday, now you cops have spoiled it,” he stated. While in the background, all the children jumped up and down on the seats and in the aisles—they were excited to see so many police in one place. This was the most excitement Huntsville had ever seen.
With the noise from the children and the anger flaring up in Mr. Peadocket’s face, many of the police and detectives holstered their guns, while other police officers raised their weapons in the air, as though they were toy soldiers, according to the newspaper report.
“Nothing more here,” I decided to take the case, since I was the only person who have located the other matching shoe. There was little information about Mrs. Henton-Jameson’s family and her sister.
            Something had to be done, as usual I called on my trusty friend and we started our trace.  The clues were very cold and no one remembered seeing this fine lady--except for the guard at the bank where she was last seen.
Officer O'Connel was a funny sort of person, with thick coca-cola lens in his brown glasses frame that appeared to be held together by a piece of wire and some gooey stuff, probably homemade glue. He wore a uniform that dated back some fifteen or eighteen years ago, and he carried a billy-stick that was attached to a side pocket, he no longer carried a gun.

1 comment:

Patricia Gligor said...

What an interesting story! Proof that there's a "mystery" to be found around every corner - if we're looking for one.