The House of Storms

By: Geron Kees
(© 2017 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

GKees@tickiestories.us

Chapter 8

 The boys were barely up in the morning when there was a knock at the door to their father's room. Frank answered it, and let the elder Dane in.
 
 "Morning, boys. I just wanted to tell you there's been a change of plans for the day."
 
 Joe and Tony, who had come over at the sound of the knock, looked at Frank and Chip. They all groaned, by now used to the detective being called away in the middle of something they were doing.
 
 But the detective just grinned. "Oh, you don't even know what it is yet!"
 
 "Sure, we do," Joe said, shaking his head. "Someone called and told you something interesting, and now you're off to check it out."
 
 The detective nodded. "That's a fair deduction. But you boys happen to be included in this change of plans."
 
 That made all four boys perk up.
 
 "What's up, dad?" Frank asked.
 
 Mr. Dane couldn't help smiling, it seemed. "Well, you know that I called Mr. Crandon about getting an interview with Jack Dark? I just received a phone call from him. Mr. Dark has invited all of us up to his house today for a visit!"
 
 The boys gaped at each other, and than Joe hooted. "Wow, dad! That's great!"
 
 "Yeah! That's really super!" Frank agreed. "When is this supposed to happen?"
 
 "Oh, we have time to eat and get ready. Mr. Dark said that eleven o'clock would suit him just fine."
 
 "Man!" Joe said, rubbing his hands together. "We get to see the House of Storms, in person!"
 
 Mr. Dane blinked in surprise. "What did you say?"
 
 Joe nodded. "The House of Storms," he repeated. "That's the name of the house on the hill - the one Mr. Dark rents."
 
 The detective suddenly looked thoughtful. "I hadn't heard that. Interesting."
 
 Frank was not one to miss it when his father was onto something. "Is that important, dad?"
 
 The elder Dane pursed his lips a moment. "I don't know. It may be." He smiled then. "But for now, it's just interesting." He clapped his hands together. "Get dressed, and we'll go and have breakfast. I want to make a phone call, okay?"
 
 And with that, the detective retreated to his room and closed the door.
 
 Frank looked at Joe. "What do you think?"
 
 The younger Dane shrugged. "You know dad. Stuff that doesn't mean a thing to us might mean all kinds of things to him."
 
 "I guess he'll tell us if it proves important," Frank concluded.
 
 They cleaned up, finished dressing, and were ready when Mr. Dane knocked again. But he didn't say anything as they took the elevator down to the lobby, and the boys knew better than to ask about his phone call. The detective shared information when he thought it wise to do so, and not when he was unsure of his facts.
 
 When they emerged from the hotel, Mr. Dane waved for a cab.
 
 "We're not taking your car?" Frank asked.
 
 "I left it in town yesterday to get some of damage repaired," the detective explained. "I meant to tell you. The driver's door didn't close right, and the trunk lid was hard to open. They said they'd see what they could do and drop it off here tomorrow."
 
 They climbed into the cab. It was a large Chrysler taxi model, and all five of them could sit in the back quite comfortably. The driver's eyes briefly widened as Mr. Dane gave him their destination, but he flicked over the flag on the meter and off they went.
 
 "I have to admit to looking forward to meeting this fellow myself," Mr. Dane said, as the car left the hotel lot and started up the highway. "I've never seen anything as hard to decipher as the tricks he uses in his show." He laughed. "Just remember that it isn't polite to ask a magician how he does his tricks, okay?"
 
 The boys all grinned at that.
 
 "I doubt he'd tell us, anyway, "Chip said. "Those are the secrets of the trade, right?"
 
 "Exactly so," the detective agreed. "I know from past experience that most circus and carnival performers have their own spins on the library of standard tricks, and they are very proprietary about sharing them. I would expect a performer of Mr. Dark's standing to be even more careful with his secrets."
 
 Frank nodded. "Considering that they are pretty amazing, especially."
 
 "Yes."
 
 The road they traveled rose at an incline, and pretty soon they could see the beach and the hotel and the carnival area below, all made slightly misty-looking by distance and the sun's glare upon the ocean.
 
 "Pretty spectacular view," Frank offered, as the big auto made a last turn and proceeded up a gravel drive.
 
 The first thing the saw was the lighthouse, a traditional tower with its beacon thrust well above the surrounding trees. After that the house came into view, and Frank realized that the boy at the sandwich counter in the hotel had been correct in calling the place a mansion. It was large, Victorian in appearance, with rambling balconies amidst the turrets, and dark cedar shingles on the sides. The house faced the sea, but a large porch structure seemed to gird the house on all sides, and a wide staircase lead up from the paved circle before the wide, double rear doors, suggesting an entry hall that ran front-to-back and offered easy access to all the first floor rooms of merit.
 
 "Wow," Joe said softly, as the cab turned into the paved circle before the entry, "are those gargoyles?"
 
 Indeed, the roof overhang above the vast second floor seemed well guarded with small statuary, which resembled nothing less than dark, winged creatures of the goblin variety, arrayed about the house's circumference.
 
 "I see why the guy at the sandwich counter said the place was a little creepy," Frank offered. "In the sunshine it's passable, but I can imagine what this place looks like on a stormy night. I would expect Boris Karloff to answer the door."
 
 Everyone laughed. "It was the style back then, " Mr. Dane said. "This is a fine old house. I'd be willing to bet it was quite costly in its day."
 
 "Do you need me to wait?" the cabbie asked, as they pulled to a top below the wide staircase leading to the porch.
 
 "No, that's fine," Mr. Dane said. "But you can give me the number to the cab stand and your name, and I'll ask for you when we're ready to return to the hotel."
 
 "Gee, that's swell. Thanks!" The man offered a small card, which Mr. Dane pocketed. The detective paid the fare, and they all got out of the car.
 
 As they mounted the steps, the door on the right opened and a smiling, gray-haired man appeared, casually dressed in gray trousers and a plaid shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. "Good morning. Ben Dane and company?"
 
 Mr. Dane waved a hand. "That would be me. These are my sons, Frank and Joe, and their friends, Chip and Tony."
 
 The man nodded, and smiled further around a pipe. "I am Joseph, the caretaker. Mr. Dark was on the telephone and asked me to welcome you. Please come in."
 
 The double doors did indeed deposit them into an entry hall that stretched away to the front of the house. There was a hallway to the left that looked to lead to a kitchen, and another to the right that seemed to house a large pantry. The caretaker led them towards the front of the house, past open doorways that offered a sitting room, a library, a den, and a billiards room. At the front of the house, the entry hall expanded into a large living room at one side, and a magnificent dining room on the other. A grand, circular staircase led to a balcony that gave access to the floor above.
 
 "This is quite a place," Mr. Dane said, as they were shown to seats in the living room. A vast hearth, large enough to walk into, and shielded by an ornate, finely crafted bronze screen, occupied an outer wall, with large cases of books to either side, and framed maps of an evident antiquity hung on the walls. The furniture arrayed before the hearth stood beneath a ten-foot, swirled plaster ceiling hung with bronze lighting fixtures that looked somehow nautical in design, and seemed almost dwarfed by the size of the room itself. Other furniture constructed of light woods - a sideboard, a glass-doored cabinet, a display case of some sort, and more - stood about the walls of the rooms. All of it was underlain with a deep, plush carpet of burgundy-red, laced with ornate patterns in subtle gold.
 
 "Wow," Joe breathed, staring about. "Is this posh, or what?"
 
 "It looks like a museum," Tony whispered back. "it's amazing!"
 
 Joseph smiled. "This room is much as it was in the house's heyday. The town, which owns the site, has been careful to preserve its original splendor."
 
 "They've done a good job," Mr. Dane admitted. "I don't think I've seen anything quite this grand in some time."
 
 "I was a boy when the house was built, nearly sixty years ago," Joseph said, looking about the room. "Everything you see here was brought up the promontory by horse and wagon. It was quite a construction project, lasting over three years."
 
 "I understand that the official name of the place is The House of Storms," Mr. Dane said casually.
 
 Joseph smiled. "That is what it is called in town, yes. That's not quite right, though. The house's true name is The House of Sturm, after the original owner, Otto Albert Sturm. He owned a cannery that used to occupy the land now taken up by the hotel and the carnival."
 
 Joseph was turned away from the visitors as he spoke, and so did not see the tiny widening of Ben Dane's eyes, nor the more apparent starts of surprise on the parts of the boys. Frank and Joe both put out hands and touched the wrists of their friends before either boy could speak. But it was apparent that the caretaker's revelation had struck home. Mr. Dane glanced their way, his eyes conveying a further warning not to speak.
 
 Sturm! The name of the mysterious gunman who had accosted them on the trip to Land's End!
 
 "It's an interesting story, actually," said another voice, from above them. They turned as one to spy a man atop the spiral staircase - a man dressed in a dark evening suit with a tiny red rose in the lapel. He started down the staircase, and his voice seemed almost to echo within the great room.
 
 "Otto Sturm emigrated to the United States in 1880, from Austria. He used the small nest egg his parents had left him to purchase a struggling cannery here at Land's End, and with his astute business sense at hand, built it very quickly into a thriving concern. He did so well, in fact, that he was able to begin construction on this fine house overlooking his business in 1892." The man reached the bottom of the staircase and smiled at them. "As you can see, he had quite the eye for design."
 
 He strode forward then, his hand extended. "I am Jack Dark, Mr. Dane. I have been a fan of your exploits for some years. Quite the reputation you have made for yourself as a troubleshooter along the --"
 he smiled "-- darker roads of life."
 
 Ben Dane smiled and offered his hand. "I think you are the one with the reputation, sir. And after seeing your show, I can see it is justly deserved."
 
 The magician laughed softly and performed a little bow over their handshake, and then released the detective's hand. "Thus established as equals, I am sure we can speak freely now." He nodded to all of them. "Please call me Jack, won't you?"
 
 Mr. Dane offered the same first-name courtesy, and introduced the boys.
 
 The magician smiled. "As fine a group of young men as I have ever spied, certainly." The boys all smiled, although feeling just a little embarrassed by the sharp-eyed examination on the part of their host.
 
 "It was very kind of you to invite us," Mr. Dane continued. "Your home is appealing in the extreme."
 
 "Sadly, a rental property only," The magician replied. He leaned forward, as if offering a confidence. "I did make a nice offer to the town leaders, but they of course refused." He looked again about the grand living room, and sighed. "Can't say I blame them much."
 
 He turned to Joseph, who had been standing quietly and listening to the exchange, and smiled at him. "Thank you, for acting in my stead, Joseph. We won't keep you any longer."
 
 The caretaker smiled, nodded, and left the room.
 
 "Excellent man," Jack continued, after Joseph had left. "When I am on my winter tour, he takes wonderful care of the house. I do believe he loves it almost as much as I."
 
 "You were saying that Otto Albert Sturm built the place in 1892," Mr. Dane said, smiling. "It sounds a fascinating tale. Please do go on."
 
 The magician nodded, and came to seat himself in a wing-back chair across from them.
 
 "The Sturm family prospered nicely here until 1917, at which point The Great War - or World War One, as it is more commonly known - was in full deployment. At that point the government passed two new laws: The Espionage Act, and the Trading With the Enemy Act, which authorized the Department of Justice not only to send enemy nationals residing in the US to internment camps, but also allowed them to seize the assets of those same individuals."
 
 Mr. Dane looked surprised. "I have heard that Japanese nationals were sent to internment camps in the last war, but I had not heard the practice was also maintained in the first war."
 
 "Oh, yes," Jack said, looking sad about it. "Another overlooked tidbit from the annals of American Democracy. Nearly 6,000 enemy nationals were rounded up and imprisoned, many on the most nebulous of claims as to their disloyalty, or supposed collusion with the enemy. In most cases, their property was also seized. The government of the United States eventually wound up with five hundred million dollars worth of property seized from people living here who had had the misfortune to not yet seek out citizenship - a staggering sum in those days, indeed." He sighed. "Such is the frenzied hysteria in times of war."
 
 Mr. Dane looked at the boys, then back at the magician. "You seem to know quite a lot about this."
 
 "Yes. I always love to know the history of any place where I live. Call it a hobby of mine. History is quite a fascinating subject, don't you agree?"
 
 The detective nodded. "Yes. So the Sturms were sent off to an internment camp, and their property was seized?"
 
 "Not quite. Being a well-connected man, Otto Sturm received a phone call one dark and stormy night. The caller informed him that agents of the Justice Department were on their way to seize him and his family. Herr Sturm gathered his family members and escaped in one of his own fishing boats, and was never seen again. It was supposed that he and his family made their way back to Austria, although I am certain that could not have been accomplished  before the war's end."
 
 "He couldn't get his house back after the war was over?" Joe asked.
 
 "And his cannery?" Chip added.
 
 Jack Dark sighed. "Very little of the seized property was returned to its former owners. The Justice Department had it declared Americanized, and it was sold off to the highest bidder. Quite a nice addition to national coffers somewhat depleted by the expenses of war, would you not say?"
 
 The boys looked at each other, uncomfortable with the idea of seized property being basically stolen by the government.
 
 "This is a fact?" Frank asked.
 
 The magician nodded. "Oh, yes. I performed my research quite ably." He shrugged. "The German pharmaceutical company, Bayer, was seized in its entirety and auctioned off on the front steps of its own headquarters. That company lost the patent on aspirin as a result. Quite a large loss, as you might imagine. Yet America was actually quite lax in this aspect of wartime activities, as other governments in other lands far outdid the United States in sending enemy nationals to internment. Easily five times as many European citizens went to internment camps in Britain for the duration of the war. But the result was the same. People were deprived of their property, often for no valid legal reason whatsoever."
 
 "In America?" Tony asked, disbelievingly.
 
 Jack smiled. "Ah, the glowing coals of naive youth. Yes, in America."
 
 "So what happened later?" Frank asked.
 
 The magician shrugged. "The town leaders of Land's End got together after the war was over and purchased the cannery property and the house from the government, with an idea of making something else of it. In fact, some of my explorations have led me to believe that town elders were in some way responsible for bringing the Department of Justice down on Otto Sturm in the first place. It is an unpleasant story all around."
 
 "And no one ever heard of Otto Sturm again?" Chip queried.
 
 "Not to my knowledge," Jack said. "Though if I were he, I would not come back to a country that had so blatantly robbed me, either."
 
 It was a sobering tale, lightened only somewhat by the entry of a woman offering with drinks for everyone.
 
 "May I introduce Sophie?" Jack said, smiling at the gray-haired woman. "She is Joseph's wife, and often assists me when I have company."
 
 The woman smiled, and set a large glass of iced tea before each of the guests. "Just call me if you need anything, Jack," she said, leaving the room.
 
 "You live here alone?" Mr. Dane asked, taking a sip of his tea.
 
 "Yes. Joseph and Sophie have rooms in the old lighthouse, which you must have seen when arriving."
 
 "Does the light work?" Frank asked, also sipping on his drink.
 
 "Not to my knowledge," the magician replied. "It's even older than the house. But don't hold me to that, because I don't know for sure."
 
 "The light predates the house, you say?" Mr. Dane said.
 
 "Yes." Jack nodded, but frowned. "Why someone would build a fine house like this one up here and leave that old lighthouse right next door is beyond me. It has its charm, I guess, and it has been maintained along with the house. But it's a very utilitarian structure to have dominating one's side yard."
 
 "Maybe Otto Sturm just liked it." Joe offered. "It is kind of neat looking."
 
 "Perhaps," Jack returned, smiling. "Perhaps it is just as simple as that."
 
 "We saw your show," Mr. Dane said then, changing the subject. "I have seen some magic acts in my time, but yours runs roughshod over all the others I've attended."
 
 Jack laughed, his eyes sparkling. "I have studied magic since I was a boy." He leaned forward, looked about as if seeking listeners other than those seated before him. "I used to believe that all of it was real."
 
 Frank grinned. "And now you don't?"
 
 "No. Just some of it."
 
 Everyone smiled.
 
 "Well, you are extremely good at the 'some of it' part," Mr. Dane said. "The seamless quality of each act really amazed me."
 
 "Practice makes perfect,"the magician returned, smiling. "It took me years to assemble the acts you saw into something that people would pay to see."
 
 "You seem to be holding the carnival together just now," the detective observed. "There seem to be problems with other parts of the show."
 
 Jack frowned. "I am doing my part to keep things running, but I don't know about holding the place together. The accidents that have been occurring at the carnival have had an impact on business, there is no doubt about that."
 
 "You think they are all accidents?" Mr. Dane asked.
 
 For a moment the magician looked unsure of himself. "Well...I've had a few doubts. Some of the things that have occurred are somewhat coincidental, I feel sure. Others...I don't know." He smiled suddenly. "Of course. That's why you are here."
 
 The detective returned the smile. "Actually, I came up here to have a nice vacation with my sons and their friends. The things going on here have caught my interest just a bit, however."
 
 Jack nodded. "I do so love a mystery myself. If I can be of service in your quest, you have only to ask."
 
 They were shown around the house, and the garden to one side, and walked over to the lighthouse to look it over, too. Besides the large, squat cone that carried the beacon atop it, there was a small, house-like structure at the base, originally the abode of the keeper, but now the residence of Joseph and Sophie.
 
 They climbed the circular staircase inside the tower to the lantern room itself, where a large arc lamp enclosed inside a complex Fresnel lens occupied a mount in the center. Great windows circled the lantern room all about, with the doors of storage cabinets beneath them. The boys stood and looked off across the sea, and Frank thought he could just make out the blob of a large ship standing some miles off the coast.
 
 "Amazing view," Mr. Dane stated, standing at the rail outside the beacon's windows. He turned and looked back at the giant Fresnel lens of the beacon itself, shaking his head in wonder. "I'm kind of amazed that it's no longer in use. Time has passed, but that means nothing to the cliffs and rocks and shallows in this area."
 
 The magician nodded, and pointed at the barely visible outline of the ship offshore. "See that? That's the lightship Aphrodite. She has taken over the chores of this light house, the third such ship to hold the job. It has been thus since Otto Sturm purchased the property. This was a private lighthouse, and when Sturm declined to keep it in operation, the government placed a lightship offshore in its stead."
 
 When they went back inside to head back to the ground, Frank stopped and looked at the giant beacon. It was obviously old, but he could see where the switches on the operating panel looked shiny and new. "This looks like it could work, actually."
 
 Jack came over to stand beside him, nodding. "It does, doesn't it? Well, it belongs to the town and they likely maintain it. One of their maintenance people comes once each month to check the building and the light. Maybe they desire to maintain it in working order."
 
 They descended, and proceeded back to the house. Jack led them around to the front of the house and seated them on the wide covered porch, with a fine view of the sea.
 
 Mr. Dane smiled. "I have to admit, this place is just loaded with charm. The view is second to none. I can see why you like it here, Jack."
 
 The magician nodded. "I was originally housed at the hotel. After I decided to stay on here, I looked about for a house to rent." He frowned. "The town really is rather small, and did not have much to offer. I spied this place sitting way up here, asked about it, and was told something of its history." He laughed. "When I found that it was standing empty, unused, it became my mission to rent it. I hinted to the town council that I would consider a nice reduction in my earnings in lieu of being allowed to reside here, and they jumped at the chance. I think that all of us have been quite happy with the results."
 
 Sophie poked her head out the door, asked if anyone was thirsty or hungry, and more drinks, and a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies, were brought out. It was a beautiful day, with a blue sky buoyed by a brace of puffy clouds to the east, out at sea, and the sun was warm and cheery. They talked on about the town and the carnival, and about some of the odd things that had been happening there.
 
 "Mostly, I hear about them well after the fact," Jack said. "Other than the time I spend in preparation and performance, I spend most of my time here, and, as you can see, the remove from the town and the carnival is considerable." He nodded. "But it had occurred to me that the sheer number of unfortunate incidents affecting carnival operations presses the odds of being accidental to the extreme."
 
 "Have you any idea who might have a grudge against the town or the carnival?" Mr. Dane asked.
 
 "Not offhand." But then magician's eyes sparkled a moment. "Otto Sturm, were he around, perhaps. However, he would be quite old now, indeed, and scarcely up to doing the kinds of things that have been happening here."
 
 "You said he had children?" Mr. Dane inquired.
 
 Jack frowned. "Yes. Two, I believe." He closed one eye as if thinking, and then nodded. "They would be in their mid-thirties about now." He shrugged. "That would be something of a long shot, don't you think?"
 
 Mr. Dane nodded. "Definitely. But I like to cover all the bases."
 
 Jack Dark soon looked at his watch. "I have really enjoyed meeting all of you, and I want to invite all of you right now to come and visit with me again." He smiled. "You five have been the most interesting new things to crop up in my little world in a long time." He leaned forward, a conspiratorial look coming onto his features. "I know that the reputation of Land's End as a place of wonder to visitors is established, but for those living here, it is just a small town, and rather dull."
 
 Ben Dane laughed. "It has been most interesting for us as well, but I know exactly what you mean about the town. My own hometown of Gulfport is much the same."
 
 Joe blinked. "Gee, I thought you loved our town, dad!"
 
 Both the detective and the magician laughed gently at the look on Joe's face.
 
 "Of course I do, son. But having started my working life in the police force of New York City, you can imagine that my move to Gulfport and its considerably smaller police department was scarcely a thrilling advance, professionally."
 
 Frank laughed. "Your life is more exciting now that you're you own man, though. Your cases take you all over the country."
 
 "That's true. And yet, I always return to Gulfport, to the town and people that I love."
 
 "Well said," Jack laughed. He nodded. "I must make ready for my show this evening. My staff is housed at the hotel, and as there is but one of me and many of them, logistics dictate that I take myself to town rather than the reverse."
 
 "You are welcome to share our cab," Mr. Dane offered.
 
 "Actually, Joseph drives me in my own car. It would please me greatly if you would accept a ride with me, instead."
 
 "That would fine," the detective responded. "We can continue our conversation, then."
 
 "Just let me get my things, and grab Joseph, and I'll be right with you. The garage is just there beside the house, if you would like to wait."
 
 The Danes and friends adjourned to the garage next to the house, and in just a few moments the great double doors opened and Jack Dark came out, now arrayed in dark top had and red-lined black cape, and carrying an ornamental walking stick which he maneuvered about with quite a bit of dash.
 
 "You look wonderful!" Frank said, laughing in amazement. "If I did not know you, I'd be sure you were a word-famous magician, anyway!"
 
 Jack grinned, and pointed the walking stick at Mr. Dane. "Quite a fetching lad you have there, Ben. I do so love a young man with good taste!"
 
 Everyone laughed, while Frank felt his face redden slightly. Chip grinned at him, and gave him a small, fond punch in the upper arm.
 
 They heard an engine start, and then a long, sleek black Packard limousine with regal red pinstripes was backing from the garage. The old car was in beautiful condition, and Joseph, when he came into view behind the wheel, was smiling in a small black chauffeur's cap with brim. "All aboard!"
 
 They opened the doors and climbed inside. The car easily accommodated the six of them, and Frank looked about in awe at the plush interior.
 
 "What do you think of this?" Chip said softly, looking about in amazement. "Makes the Princess look like a delivery truck!"
 
 Jack smiled at that. "One of my weaknesses, I should say." He winked then. "And, a part of my carefully crafted image. The fine old autos of the last decade were unmatched for sheer luxuriousness. This car is fourteen years old, and still only has twenty-thousand miles on it. When I arrive for a show, people take notice."
 
 "It's a beauty, no doubt about that," Ben Dane agreed.
 
 The car moved along the road with a grace that the boys had never experienced, and the ride to town was a pleasant one. Jack let them off at the front of the hotel with a promise to see them again, and Joseph drove on around to the side of the building. The hotel had several conference rooms there, and Jack said he met his staff in one of them each afternoon to discuss the evening's show.
 
 The Danes and their friends returned to Mr. Dane's room and everyone took a seat. "Well?" Mr. Dane asked. "Did you boys enjoy the visit?"
 
 "Yes, dad," Joe said, nodding. "Thanks for taking us."
 
 "It was great, Mr. Dane. Thanks!" Chip added.
 
 "Yeah," Tony agreed. "Debbie will go nuts when I tell her I met Jack Dark in person!"
 
 "One thing I wanted to mention," Frank said then. "The night we got the sandwiches, the guy at the counter told us that he saw the lighthouse next to Jack Dark's house in operation when he was coming into his job. So it does work, after all. When I asked Mr. Dark about it, he seemed unsure."
 
 Mr. Dane shrugged. "I got the impression from looking over the light that it worked, too. But it could easily have been in operation at a time when Jack was not home, or asleep. No reason he should know if it works or not."
 
 "I liked the guy," Tony said. "He's just like what I would imagine a magician to be like."
 
 "I thought he might pull a rabbit out of his sleeve or something," Chip said, laughing. "I kept waiting for it, but it never happened."
 
 "Mr. Dark is not on that level," Ben Dane said, considering. "I would say his abilities are quite beyond rabbits and card tricks."
 
 Frank looked questioningly at his father. "You say that like you suspect something, dad? Do you?"
 
 "No. Yes. Maybe." The detective laughed. "I suspect everyone, Frank, until the case is solved." He patted the boy on the shoulder, then gave him a fond, fatherly squeeze. "I liked the man, too. I think he's okay."
 
 "So what's our next move?" Joe asked.
 
 Mr. Dane seemed to think hard on that. "Dinner, I think," he finally said. He grinned. "Those cookies were delicious, but no replacement for lunch. I say we change and go have an early dinner. Then we can spend the evening looking over the carnival again."
 
 Joe frowned. "Are we any further along with this case, dad?"
 
 "Oh, I think so. I'm starting to feel like I may have some insights on it."
 
 Frank sighed. "Care to share them?"
 
 Mr. Dane smiled. "In good time. Now let's get changed and get some food.

To be continued...

Posted: 03/22/19