Till Death Do Us

VANISHED

As dark fell, Phineas's tortured, wayward path brought him back to the quiet, conduit-lined cobble-stone street where the establishment of Stiffs & Sons Mortuary Service had stood for two centuries. Two hundred years of coming to the aid of the bereft in their darkest hour of need. Phineas himself was feeling about as bereft as one who hasn't actually lost a loved one could feel. Indeed, he felt as if he had lost a loved one. And, as a result, during his long dejected and despairing walk he had reached a conclusion: He would have to leave Gravesend ... forever.

He had decided this, not only because he saw no future for himself in the business of undertaking, but because he knew he would never be able to live in a place that would forever remind him of the utterly lovely Miss. Theodosia Boudreaux. It was true that he hardly knew her, but it made no difference. During his labored trudging he had come to the realization that he was deeply, madly in love with her. He might not have believed in love at first sight before, but he did now.

It even made no difference whether or not she displayed her wares in a bawdy house. It made no difference that her fiancé was that subhuman sea cucumber of a man, Egon Von Titus Barr-Cadwell. Phineas had lost his heart. He was certain he would never find it again. Therefore, he had to get as far away as he could to escape the pain that enveloped him. The thought came to him of sailing alone across some vast ocean to some distant tropical island.

Phineas let himself in the front of the funeral home. As usual, the faint scent of gas greeted his olfactory receptors. He took the creaking stairs up to the business suite on the second floor and knocked, waited a moment, and then let himself in.

Seymour wasn't there. The office was empty and dim, the gas lights turned off. Something about the stillness of the air made Phineas suspect the room had been empty for a good part of the day. This was a bit unusual. Though dusk was approaching outside, it was customary for his father to remain at work until the early evening.

Downstairs, the front door squeaked open and banged shut. Phineas heard rapid footsteps come up the stairs. A moment later Aunt Minnie hurried in. "Have you seen him?"

She asked.

Normally, Phineas knew the question would have referred to the oft missing Cousin Rudy, but in this case, here in Seymour's office, it didn't. Phineas shook his head.

"Seymour missed two appointments this afternoon," Aunt Minnie said. "In all the years I've known him, he's never done that. I can't find him anywhere. I've just come from his house. His buggy is driveway, but the house is locked tight. There's no sign of him."

This was indeed strange. Like Aunt Minnie, Phineas had never known his father to shirk his responsibilities. Seymour never went anywhere without letting someone at the funeral home know where and when he was expected to return.

Now from downstairs came several loud raps against the door. A deep voice called, "Hello, Madame Minnie, are you here?"

"Yes, Constable Ramaswamy, we're up here," Aunt Minnie called down. "Please come up."

Phineas scowled at his aunt, but he wasn't particularly surprised that she'd summoned the authorities.

A moment later the constable came up the stairs and joined them, bowing so deeply to Minnie that for a moment all Phineas could see was the top of his turban. The Constable was wearing a neatly pressed olive colored uniform with gold buttons and epaulets. He was wearing tall brown leather boots. He shook Phineas' hand firmly. "Ah, Master Phineas, I see you have returned from the Venenum Institute. How are your forensic studies proceeding?"

"Well, constable. Thank you for asking," Phineas replied.

"I am glad to hear it," the constable said. "And you know that when you have finished your studies I am sure we will have a place for you here on the Gravesend Constabulary. We can always use a good forensic investigator."

Phineas smiled weakly. Just a few minutes ago he'd entered this office intending to tell his father that he was going to leave Gravesend at once and go as far away as he possibly could. And, had his father been there to ask why, Phineas had been prepared to tell him that it was because he felt his heart has been broken beyond repair.

Constable Ramaswamy now turned to Minnie who had begun nervously twisting the remains of her lace hanky. "So I have received a message that you are concerned about the whereabouts of Mr. Seymour? That he appears to have vanished without warning?"

"Yes."

The constable gazed around the messy office and tugged thoughtfully at his long wispy grey beard. "Would you permit me please to have a look around?"

It seemed to Phineas that, had his father been present, he might not have wanted the constable, or any other stranger for that matter, going through his private papers. But before he could raise an objection, Minnie told the constable to go right ahead.

Constable Ramaswamy went around the desk and sat down in Seymour's chair. For several long moments he did nothing but stare at the cluttered desktop and drawers, as if trying to channel Seymour's spirit and thoughts. At that point Phineas decided that, since his attendance appeared not to be necessary, he would go downstairs. After his long pensive walk he felt quite thirsty and in need of refreshment. But the instant he turned toward the door, the constable cleared his throat. "Please Master Phineas, before you depart, a word?"

Phineas turned back as the constable began to sort through various papers on Seymour's desk. "Yes, sir?"

"I have been meaning to speak to your father, but since he is not here, I have several matters to discuss with you," Constable Ramaswamy said as he perused the papers on the desk.

Phineas began to feel apprehensive. How many matters could there possibly be that required discussing?

"First," said the constable, "the report on the untimely demise of Martha Bilderback has been completed. She was the one who—"

"Blew herself in her kitchen," Phineas said.

"Yes, well, that is what we think, or thought, or perhaps still think," the constable replied, still sorting through papers. "The problem is that very small amounts of cyanide were found at the scene of the explosion. Now this could be explained in any number of ways, but I was wondering if it might be possible to run some toxicology tests on the body?"

"But the body's been interred," Phineas pointed out.

"Yes, well in that case we may have to ask the family for permission to exhume the body."