Everything Isn't As It Seems

Chapter Eleven

"I have a cab, waiting outside." The sense of urgency was obvious in their quick and decisive movements. It wasn't a long ride to their destination, full of nervous ticking and alternating periods of brief detailed conversation and impatient silence. Isabel informed Max that she had stopped at Frank's before going to him, but no one was there, except for the secretary who had said she had not seen Mr. Scott. Max still insisted on stopping in. This time Frank was there himself along with his secretary, both once again claiming to not have seen Scott. Max thanked them and he and Isabel stepped outside.

"If he was indeed taken, he would not have done so quietly or without leaving some trace of himself, I am sure of it. It would seem he was taken somewhere between here and your house. Show me the way." It was a short route, maybe a ten minute walk. The traveled it a few times, searching the street for any clue of altercation. Isabel spotted the shine of metal on the thin strip of cobblestone that separated the road from the walkway. Under further inspection, she found that it was a cufflink, in the same general area she also found a cracked bit of tooth and a speckling of blood that had been obscured from sight by the multicolored stone it set upon. She dropped the small but of metal into Max's hand. Isabel looked down at the chipped tooth on the sidewalk.

"And it would appear one of his captors is now missing a tooth." Upon further inspection of the road and surrounding area, Isabel found that the most fresh tracks in the dirt were heading east, which made sense considering the road dead ends to the west. The tracks in question appeared to have been made by a single large van carrying a great deal of weight.

"What is it Isabel?" Max had taken note of the expression on her face, it was something akin to the one Beaus' made when he found a clue.

"The people who took him probably headed east from here. Then headed west. They came from the west. Probably were lying in wait outside of my house. There really is no way to track him from here. I'm going to have to do some digging."

"Digging?" She glanced at him. "Do you have anyone you can really trust in the police department or government?"

"Luke is trustworthy. He may not like Beau, but the man is a good detective."

"Contact him. Pry ever so gently for any information he may know about my brother's case, or any chatter he may have heard recently about his higher-ups. Even rumors. He'll be hesitant, but tell him lives may depend on it." Max looked at her questionably. "Policemen gossip like old broads, he'll have heard something." Isabel said assuredly as they approached her house. "I'll send word to Baker Street when I've learned anything of use, if you don't hear from me by morning, come here." Max had an uneasy expression on his face. "I daresay,Max, you are worried about me. Do not take this the wrong way, but you would only hinder my chances of finding information. You'd stick out where I am going." He gave a slight nod.

"I will do as you say then. I will contact Luke right away." He touched her upper arm. "Stay safe and godspeed."

"You as well Young." Isabel and Max went their separate ways there. It was nearing two in the morning and she was near giving up and seeing if Max had better news.

As soon as she had paid the cabbie and changed into normal attire, Isabel walked the few blocks to Frank's in the dark. She pounded on the door until he opened, a tired scowl on his face, which turned to quick concern at the late hour of her visit.

"Sorry Frank, I know it's late, but this one's urgent and I'll pay double." The man shook his raggedy head. He was an old family friend.

"We both know if you do that, I'll be taking' food out of little Beth's mouth. Where am I going?"

"221B Baker Street, give him this." She handed him a folded note. "He should be up waiting for it." Frankie palmed the small slip of paper and placed a small fatherly peck on her forehead.

"Alright. Now go home and go to sleep, a lady shouldn't be up at this hour." She gave him a patronizing smile.

"Will do. Thank you, Frank." Isabel did manage to catch an hour or so of sleep on the hard couch downstairs before Max knocked quietly on her front door. "That was fast." She commented as she let him into the house.

"I got your note and came immediately. I talked to Luke."

"Right you first."

"No you." Isabel rolled her eyes and proceeded to explain in detail the happening of her night and what she had discovered. It turned out, Luke had heard some unsettling rumors of none other than Mr. Caywood himself concerning his affiliations with certain crimes including thievery, kidnapping, and murder.

Water dripped somewhere in the dark and the dank moist smell of dirt and standing water painted the cement of the stone room Beau was being held in. Iron shackles and chains bound his wrists to the wall, holding them in an awkward position as he slumped against the stone floor. He knew not where he was, which was terribly unsettling, but the bit of information could not help him regardless. His head throbbed at the spot where he had been struck, from behind mind you. Cowards the lot of them. Given the slices in his knuckles though, he figured he at least knocked out a tooth before being struck unconscious. He had woken already chained in the hole some hours ago and no one had opened the door since then. He could easily pick the locks on the iron shackles, he had already inspected them as thoroughly as he could in the darkness and came to the conclusion that they'd prove to be no problem. There was a thin curl of dark metal that he wove into the locks just above his right ear that could easily be retrieved by simply standing. However, he did not know if being unchained for the time being was a good idea. Beau was first made aware that the door was being opened by the sound of a clicking lock and then by the light that the opening door allowed in. A man of mid to late forties who had sharp featured and the air of one with great power stood in the door frame, a package beneath his right arm and his eyes carefully looking him over. It was Mr. Caywood. The tall figure lit a lantern on a small wooden table and set down the packed, preceding to shut and lock the door. "You're going to tell me, Scott. All that you know and who else knows it. We can do it the easy way or the hard way. It's up to you." Beau glared pointedly then spat on the man's shoe. Caywood shook his head. "Wrong choice."