A Lucy-Anne Parker Mystery

The whistle blew a lonely, haunting sound as it cut through the crisp winter night. Inside the sleeping coach, the air was moist and warm. Compartments were quiet as the passengers drifted off to sleep. In the wee morning hours, the conductor, Charlie, made his obligatory pass through the coaches, his smile firmly in place. A cheerful smile was part of the uniform. Train travel was a luxury that most folks couldn’t afford. Most of the passengers were of the upper class and were particular about maintaining the level of comfort they were accustomed to. ‘The customer was always right.’ Another principle that every conductor of the Southside Express promised to adhere to.

The train rocked gently back and forth on the tracks, with the clatter of the wheels humming in a steady beat, gently rocking the passengers who were sleeping, while irritating those who were not. “Say there, what time is it, anyway?” Charlie stopped his rounds as he heard a perturbed voice calling from the bunk to his left. 

“Quarter past two, Ma’am,” was his respectful response as he paused at the doorway. 

“Humph.” The woman muttered as though it was Charlie’s fault she was awake enough to ask him the time.

“Can’t seem to get comfortable in here,” a sharp voice could be heard over the din of the wheels. Charlie opened the door and looked at the rather large woman lying awkwardly in the small sleeping bunk. Not made for comfort, the bunks on the train struggled to do her large frame justice. Charlie attempted to relieve the strain by adding pillows to soften her complaints. He tipped his hat to her as he took his leave. She neglected to thank him.

He continued his work, pausing here and there to answer questions and ensure that his clients were satisfied with the care they were given. A short man with a grey suit that strained around his ample figure bustled his way towards Charlie, a look of concern on his face. “Say here, old chap,” the man addressed Charlie with an air of congeniality. “You wouldn’t have the key to get me into the baggage cart, would you? I seem to have misplaced my reading glasses, and I would like to get my spare pair from my trunk. I noticed that you fellows have locked the baggage cart off from the passengers now. Is that a new thing?” 

Charlie nodded politely. In the past several weeks, there had been a string of robberies in the baggage carts of the Southside Express passenger trains. Last week, a telegram from the head office had come through informing conductors and engineers to keep the baggage compartments locked to prevent further robberies. Wealthy people were so careless about their possessions and often carried jewels and items of great value in the trunks which were stored in the baggage compartment of the train. Carelessly, they would leave the trunks unlocked, presenting an easy target for robbers. “Just a precaution,” Charlie responded to the bald man’s question. “You need those reading glasses right now?” he asked.

At his question, the man frowned. “See here, old chap, I don’t know why you would ask me that. Of course, I want them now. They are my glasses, aren’t they?” His voice, rather heated, had disturbed several of the nearby passengers.

Charlie shook his head. One always had to walk on eggshells around people with money. Why this man would need his glasses in the dead of night was beyond him, but rich people did strange things. Besides, it was not his place to ask questions, and he knew better than to dawdle any longer, as one complaint from an irate customer could put his job in question. Forty years of working the rails had taught Charlie to keep these folks happy. 

Charlie fumbled with the keys. The irritated man breathing down his neck made him nervous. Finally getting the right key, he unlocked the door and turned to allow the man past. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a swift movement and then felt flashes of pain as an object connected with his head. His hat flew off as he crumpled to the ground. Just before he lost consciousness, the form of the fat, balding man loomed before his eyes, a sneer on his face. 

**

“Here now … take some of this.” Cold hands cradled his head and forced a warm liquid into his mouth. Charlie cracked one eye open to take in the form connected to the gentle hands. “You’ve had a terrible spill. I should think that your head hurts something fierce. Do you know who did this to you?” 

Charlie licked his lips and gingerly brought his hand to his forehead. His fingers felt the large goose egg beside his eye, and he moaned. 

“Bet you didn’t see that coming at all.” A red-haired angel hovered just above him. An image of a root beer float topped with whip cream and a cherry filled his mind.

Charlie shook his head a little to focus on the face before him. Slowly the two images before his eyes merged into a beautiful female face full of concern and sympathy. Red lips that perfectly matched her hair colour flashed a smile to show a row of perfect teeth. She leaned over to pick his conductor’s hat from the corner by the door, after taking a quick walk through the baggage car. “My name is Lucy-Anne Parker.” She tilted her head. “Well, Private Eye Parker.” She pulled out a crisp new business card from her coat pocket and handed it to Charlie.

Private Eye Parker – Detection Done Right.

“I’m investigating a series of train robberies. Working closely with the police department.” She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “They just don’t know it yet,” she confessed under her breath. An object under the baggage cart door caught her eye, and she knelt to pick it up. She examined the button and Charlie’s uniform before slipping it in her pocket.

“I am sorry to say, but I think you’ve been robbed!” She pointed to the baggage cart that seemed remarkably undisturbed. “This guy is good. It’s almost like he knew exactly what he was looking for. I’ve narrowed down a lot of information about Slim-Jim but no one seems to know what he looks like. He’s a master of disguise.” She twisted Charlie’s hat around in her hands as she spoke. “Since the police won’t be able to do anything until we get into the station, I’d like to get a head start at cracking the case. Did you get a good look at who knocked you out?”   

Charlie blinked his eyes and shook his head a little, as if to slide his brain back into working order. The young red-headed woman before him looked like a vision. Could he be hearing her right? Had he been tricked by the notorious thief, Slim-Jim? Charlie propped himself up on his elbow and tried to remember what had happened. “I was doing my rounds, going through the cars, making sure everything was okay. You know, like all the guests were comfortable and settled in. There were some ‘squeaky wheels’…customers that weren’t quite happy.” He shrugged. “I do my best to keep the peace, but some people find night travel difficult. People can get down right persnickity when they’re traveling. Don’t I know it? I’ve been in the business for a long time. Think they own you cause they bought themselves a train ticket. Like that hefty guy who needed his glasses. No patience anymore. I don’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure I never saw no Slim-Jim.”

Lucy-Ann’s bright green eyes twinkled, and she flipped the button through her fingers. “Hefty was he? Well, I’ll be. How clever. Anything else you can remember about this guy who needed his glasses? Take your time.”

“Well, I can’t remember much. I barely looked at him. I’m pretty sure he had a mustache, or was it a beard? I can’t remember what colour his hair was either, come to think of it, I don’t think he had any hair. Anyway, I do know he weren’t slim, so he’s not your guy. He could barely do his jacket up. These rich people like to deny their size.” Charlie envisioned the earlier passenger much too large for her berth. He shook his head. All the details were a mumble jumble.

 “Well, I have all the evidence I need. Here is what we will do. Slim-Jim is stuck on this train until the next stop. He doesn’t know that we‘ve discovered what he‘s done. With your excellent description, we should be able to stop him as he tries to make his get-away.” Lucy-Ann consulted her notebook. “When are we due to come into the station?” A long whistle answered her question.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, but I guess you’re the professional.” Charlie looked doubtful. “That’s the ten-minute warning.”

Lucy-Anne bit her lower lip. She was professional, wasn’t she? Her eyes rested on the business card in Charlie’s hand. Doubt filled her mind. She needed to get this right to convince the local police sergeant he could no longer do without her services. Being a woman in the male dominated detective world was a hard sell. She’d attempted to contact Sergeant McCluskley and offer her services in several prior cases, but he had brushed her valuable insights off. Having the infamous Slim-Jim in custody when he showed up would be just what she needed to convince the gruff sergeant she was more than capable of being an asset to the team.

“We don’t have a lot of time, then.” Lucy-Anne handed Charlie his cap and helped him to his feet. “You go to your post. I’ll notify the police to meet us at the station where we will hand over the criminal.” She looked heavenward. “Right?” She whispered as she hurried off to find a phone. Charlie nodded and placed his hat gingerly on top of his bump before carefully following behind.

 Charlie took his usual place at the train door, ready to assist the passengers as they stepped off. Anxiously his eyes scanned the faces of the passengers. He could feel Lucy-Anne watching him, waiting for his signal of recognition. He could feel himself breaking into a sweat. The passengers were almost all off. Just as he was beginning to panic, his ears picked out a familiar voice. “See here, old chap …” Charlie froze. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. He quickly nodded to Lucy-Anne before he turned to locate it. But to no avail. No one in the crowd matched his description. His eyes hurried over the stooped elderly man, the woman who complained about the time, and the one too large for her berth. No one looked at all like the hefty man looking for his reading glasses. Charlie’s shoulders slumped. He was of no use to the pretty detective.

Lucy-Ann also scanned the crowd of passengers departing. Seeing Charlie’s despair, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Her eyes met those of the hunched elderly man before he quickly looked away. Bushy grey brows hid eyes that looked much younger than his years. She studied the man again. He did not fit Charlie’s description at all. If she could just get a closer look…

“Slim-Jim, you are under arrest!”

Shock registered on the face of the elderly gentlemen, and he straightened angrily. “Eh? What’s the meaning of this?” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Who do you think you are?!”

Lucy-Anne dug out the button she had put in her pocket. “Missing this are you?” she pointed to the missing button on his suit jacket as Sergeant McCluskey and his team of officers entered the train station.

“What?! I thought…How could…” he couldn’t say much more as Detective Lucy-Anne Parker stepped in front of him and flashed a badge.

“Check your bags, ladies and gentlemen! I’ve just apprehended the notorious thief, Slim-Jim.” She announced triumphantly. The crowd applauded. “That was your last heist.”

“What do we have here?” Sergeant McCluskey muttered to Charlie as he joined them on the platform.

Charlie grinned and handed over the business card he had been fingering. “Meet your competition. She had this all wrapped up before you guys could even get here.”

“Private Eye Parker,” he read aloud. Sergeant McCluskey looked from the smiling red head to the scowling criminal. “So, we finally meet. I’ll take it from here, young lady.”

An hour the train whistle announced the train’s departure. Charlie took off his hat as Lucy-Anne walked up to him. “Just wanted to let you know, Charlie. Slim-Jim has confessed to everything and the jewels have been returned. It was his biggest job yet. I couldn’t have caught him without you. I wish there were more brave men like you around. It would make my job so much easier.” Lucy-Anne leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for your help. You should probably get that bump looked at!”

Charlie blushed a deep red. “Aww… wasn’t much, really.” Charlie stammered. “Say, how did you know it was him? Slim-Jim I mean?”

“His jacket was missing the button I found in the baggage car. You said his coat barely fit, so I figured it must have popped it off when he knocked you out. Very clever to disguise himself that way. He might have gotten away with it if you hadn’t been so observant.” The whistle blew, and steam filled the platform. “Well, I’m off. You take care of yourself, Charlie.” Detective Lucy-Anne Parker pulled her trench coat tighter to her neck and turned away.

Steam filled the platform, shrouding her slender form from Charlie’s vision. Charlie slowly got back on the train. Maybe he should get his head looked at. He just didn’t feel quite himself.