Everything Isn't As It Seems

Chapter Seven

Isabel stopped at the market to pick up dinner for her family. She stepped through the door of her family's modest dwelling, expertly balancing two brown bags in her arms. "Elizabeth, Mum, I'm home!" She called, but to her surprise, there was no response. She set the bags down on the table and walked further into the house, calling her two family member's names repetitively. Under further inspection she found that neither were home Isabel found a note, it was written using a typewriter and had no signature. She knew who it was from though, in a roundabout way. For the note read:

We have your sister and mother. If you want to see them again let Sam rest in peace and stop investigating his death. There will be a cab waiting on the north end of Concord in front of the Postal Service Building at noon tomorrow. Give the folder containing all documents and photographs to the cabman and your family will be returned to you. Failure to do so will have dire consequences. No Police.

Isabel creased the note in half, slipping it into a pocket, and immediately set out for 5829 Gnome Street. She had to get the folder back. It did not take long, as it was only a few blocks away. She knocked urgently on the door, to be greeted by Ms. Moore as per usual. "My apologies for the intrusion, but is Mr. Beau Scott home?" The woman nodded. "It's quite urgent." Ms. Moore led her up to the living room and knocked on the door. "Mr. Scott, a visitor, Sir."

"Come in, then." Came his mildly annoyed voice. Isabel took a step in and waited until Ms. Moore had shut the door to move in any further. "Isabel, I hardly recognized you. What can we do for you?" Beau asked.

"I need the folder back." The urgency and no doubt fear in her voice had undoubtedly been noticed by Detective Beau and even Doctor Young.

"Why? What has happened?" The detective asked. Isabel was torn, the note had said no police. He technically wasn't police, but was she willing to take a chance on semantics? "What is it Isabel?" The concern on Beau's face was something that surpassed normalcy for clientele, but Isabel didn't have the thinking room to ponder that observation. Out of sheer helplessness and not knowing what else to do, she pulled the piece of typewriter paper out of the top of her dress and handed it to Beau. He read the slip of paper, then handed it to Max, so they were all on the same page. "I've learned all I need from the photographs and documents you provided me, but this note brings something else into light." Beau observed. "How so? There is no signature or remarkable markings." Max questioned curiously. "Simple, my dear friend, because it was printed by the same machine as the police report. You see every typewriter has wear marks unique to only itself. Both documents have identical prominent wear marks on 'e', 'r', and 'a'." Isabel looked at him curiously. "More likely someone of higher rank killed your brother, but a policeman is most certainly involved in the cover-up. We must be more careful from here on out, Max. For whomever this person is, they obviously have deep connections at their disposal to keep the truth hidden. For seemingly any cost at that." Isabel had no time to entertain thoughts of apprehension or scandal, she had more prevailing threats to deal with.

"Max. This is no time for caution. We must strike first." The detective's eyes glimmered with the thrill of the chase. "What are you thinking up this time Beau?" Max asked, suspicious of that all too familiar look in his friends' eyes. The detective pondered simply not answering, as was his usual response, but for the plan to work he would need both Isabel and Max to assist him.

"We will return the folder as per directed by the note. Your mother and sister will undoubtedly be in the car, after the cabby allows them to get out, you will distract the man under any means possible and I will slip into the back seat. The cabman is just a pawn, but he will have to take the folder to his employer at some point. Max, you should follow me in another cab, but make certain the cabman isn't obvious about it." Isabel was instantly relieved to hear the Mr. Beau Scott was the kind of detective she thought he was. He wouldn't let this formidable lead get away. "Would you prefer to hold on to the folder then? Or should I take it?" Scott gathered all the papers back into the folder. "You should take it." He held it out for her to take. "And we'll meet you at Concord tomorrow at noon. As little contact as possible will be best." Isabel thanked him and left the study, hiding the folder properly in the folds of her bodice before heading home. All she could do was worry the floor with her nervous habitual pacing, eventually going back to her documents to search for anything that she could've missed. Needless to say, sleep was a necessity she could neither afford nor avoid that night. She perhaps acquired two hours of fitful rest, before rising once again to study the files on Sam's death by candlelight. After daylight had brightened the dull grays of the house into its natural colors, she prepared to go out. There were a few reasons she had to go out as a woman. Not only was the cabman expecting a woman to return the folder, but if she was to see her mother then being dressed as a man was not an option. There was only one reason, however, that she had to go out looking somewhat of a harlot.