A New Beginning

Chapter 50: A New Lead

Chapter 50: A New Lead

"Mrs. Bukater I assure you I've gathered a few leads that I will be following up effectively and immediately."

The private investigator sits back as he listens to the worried mother at the end of the line. He blows out another round of smoke before putting his feet on the desk. He rolls his eyes as the mother continues to talk his ear off. The PI wants nothing more than to hang up and get back to his work, but this is an important case and the pay is fantastic so he must put up with some annoyances.

Once the mother has finished talking, the private eye assures her he's doing everything he can to find her daughter before hanging up. He extinguishes his cigar and looks at the board he's created.

The lovely young Rose DeWitt Bukater stares back at him from her engagement picture. A miserable frown on her face.

"Clearly, this girl does not want to be found," He murmurs to himself.

He looks at the clock, it's almost three and soon he'll be heading downtown for his whiskey on the rocks at the local bar.

He looks at the string of yarn he's connected to the maid, Wendy. Mrs. Bukater couldn't give a last name as most in service do not carry such a title, which makes his case harder. He looks at the one called Jack Dawson, again two very common names that would be hard to track down. He knows there must be a thousand Dawsons in the phone directory alone. What wasn't as common was Whitman and Carson, he knew he had a lead there. Again, the survival of either was in doubt by Mr. Hockley, but he wasn't so sure. He got a copy of the Titanic survivors list and there was a man named Peter Whitman and a woman named Sybil Carson. Perhaps she was a relative of the supposed Emma Carson. Perhaps they could give him some answers.

Hockley knew little about how close Carson and Whitman were to his fiancée, but he blamed them for convincing her that she was better on the street than under his care. The man was possessive, to say the least, but it wasn't the PI's job to judge, all he needed to do was find the girl and bring her back to her family. The investigator just hoped she wouldn't

The PI lights up another cigarette and begins packing his office. He had a few telegrams to send and meeting with another potential client. He had to look more into Whitman and Carson when he got the chance.

At five o'clock, the man steps out onto the sunny streets, bustling with the rush hour traffic and people on their way to the bars. He would soon join them. He smokes another cigar, creating thick smoke around his head to conceal his identity. He begins heading down the street in the bright warm sunlight.

In front of his favourite bar in the downtown area, he stops to finish off his cigar before going inside. He listens to other people's conversations, something a PI had to be good at when gathering evidence.

He leans against the building when a particularly loud conversation catches his attention. A young man staring into the window of a jewelry shop. The man is young, in his twenties, blonde and with blue eyes staring at one large diamond ring with a sketchbook under his arm. Another blonde man, maybe a bit younger stands next to him, slightly shorter, carrying a briefcase.

"Jack, she'll like anything you buy her," the one with the briefcase says aloud.

"I just want to get her something she'll really love and want to keep for the rest of her life."

"She has you doesn't she?" the shorter one asks. "I just can't believe you're going to go through with it."

"We have a baby on the way, I want us to be a real family so there will little scandal as possible, Rose has been through enough already and I definitely don't need our child to be called a bastard."

The name perks the private eye's interest. Sounds very similar to the one he's looking for. He lights up another cigar to buy himself some time. The two men continue talking, blissfully unaware of the one man clouded in smoke eavesdropping.

"It won't matter as long as you guys are together," the one with the briefcase adds.

"I just wish I could get her a Tiffany's diamond ring. I do have the money for it"

"Jack, you need to save that money for a house and for a life for your family. She'll love whatever you put on her finger."

"I guess you are right," the one called Jack sighs. "I'm counting my pennies, this job at the station is really paying off."

"How do you think you're going to do it?" the other blonde asks.

"I want to take her to Santa Monica, she can't drink the cheap beer with the baby and apparently horseback riding and roller coasters are not good for pregnancy either, but we'll be by the seashore, we'll have a lot of fun and we'll be just in time for the Fourth of July fireworks."

"Has Rose ever seen fireworks before?"

"I think so, but never on the beach."

"Well, I think that is a great place to do it. You know I proposed to Emma in Canada, along the lake, just as the sun was setting. The glow made her look so beautiful, so elegant and when I brought out that diamond, her eyes lit up and the tears reflected the burning sun. The waves crashed over my pants when I went down on one knee but I didn't care. She knelt down with me and kissed me as her answer. I knew right then that I was the luckiest man alive."

There's a honk from the street and the two men turn. A young brunette is sitting in the car parked on the curb.

"Come on, I have to get home and eat before I go to class."

"We know," the shorter blonde says. "You only ever remind us every day."

"Just shut up and get in. Jack, a few more days till that paycheck comes through and then you can stop breathing on the glass and actually get the ring."

The two men chuckle as they climb into the car and it speeds away.

The investigator puts out another cigar before taking out his notebook to jot a few things down. The one called Jack worked at the station, he was proposing to a woman named Rose. He'd have to look into any employees with the name Jack. The name Emma also came up.

The private investigator puts his notebook away and then steps into the noisy bar for his drink. As he sipped his whiskey, he thought about his potential new lead.