Hey mods, can I post a murder mystery story on The-Gauge? It's PG, has no cussing, and takes place on my layout (if it was an actual town). I'm asking so I won't get in trouble if I do without asking first.
Train Mystery Story
- Thread starter CNWman
- Start date
Ok hisco and Ralph, here ya go:
Roy’s hometown, Riverside, was a small community of mostly grain farmers and store owners that was founded in 1899. Since then, Riverside has had its up and downs. The town’s main industry, Prairie Star Milling Co., had been based there almost as long as Riverside has existed. One of the most notable features of the grain milling company is that it has mainly shipped by one kind of travel: trains. Although they have the occasional small truck come by, they do the most business shipping by train by the Riverside Shortline, a “paper” line as it has no engines custom painted. The Shortline interchanged first with the Chicago & North Western (CNW) and later the company that took it over, Union Pacific (UP). There is, however, one lasting mark by the CNW; they had left their F3 #4056, a streamlined diesel usually used for passenger service in the 1950’s. UP has allowed it to keep its CNW paintjob because it’s the last one that still exists from the CNW, and from tons of petitions from the townsfolk. The locomotive is essentially the thing keeping Riverside alive, for it’s the only link between the UP mainline and Prairie Star Milling. There have been many people who have tried to buy it, even though it’s around $1,000,000, but the townsfolk wouldn’t sell it, for it was very special to Riverside.
Chapter 1: Beginning of the problems
As the Porsche 911 turned off State highway 60 onto a small road, Roy Whitman thought this was going to be a rewarding vacation. “Riverside, here I come!” said the ecstatic driver. Roy hadn’t seen his hometown of Riverside ever since he left to become a private investigator in Chicago, IL. He was just happy thinking about what was in store for him there.
As Roy drove along the road, he noticed that the grain was almost ready for harvest. That meant the 4056 would be working hard, and it was always a sight to see when it was working hard.
However, when Roy stopped at a rail crossing, he didn’t see the famed locomotive, but instead saw a UP switcher hauling the “grain train” as it was called. Roy was confused, for the F3 did all the regular switching and hauling, and could always handle the harvest season. Of course, it could possibly have broken down, but it was usually in good condition year-‘round.
Roy decided to stop at the police station to say hi to his old friend, Officer Bob. When he entered the police station, he immediately met a tall, muscular man in a police uniform who looked like Mr.T without his chains or the Mohawk.
Roy calmly said “You STILL trying to go for the Mr.T look Bob?”
“Only for the kids so I can say “You’re under arrest FOOL!” said Bob
The two friends laughed heartily together
“So you got promoted to police chief, huh Bob?” said Roy
Bob responded “Yeah, and as a bonus, I got one heck of a case going on that doesn’t make lick of sense.”
“Oh? What’s the case?”
“You know Willie, the guy who drove that locomotive?”
“Somewhat, why?”
“He was run over with that very same train a week ago.”
“What?”
“Yep, he was walking the tracks alone when it happened, but the culprit doesn’t seem right at all.”
“Who’s the guy suspected?”
“It’s Willie’s son; Bobby.”
“Huh? Why do you think he’s the culprit?”
“He’s the only other guy who can drive that CNW thing.”
Bob could never remember 4056’s designation.
“But he wouldn’t ever kill his own dad, for he had nothing to gain by it even if he did truly hate him, which I know isn’t true.” remarked Bob.
“What has the town done with the locomotive, then?” asked Roy.
“Because the town is so shook up from this incident, and Bobby isn’t allowed anywhere near the thing, it’s been put in the machine shop while the UP sent over a spare switcher to keep the town running, especially now that it’s almost harvest time”.
“So Bobby is the only suspect we have?” Roy inquired.
“Well, I have two other suspects, but Bobby is more likely of my three.” Bob answered “We have Willie’s wife, because they had a big argument some time ago, but I don’t think that was over a matter worth killing him for. The second most likely person, in my opinion, is the mayor, John Halve.”
“Why do you suspect him Bob?” Roy asked with a quizzical look on his face.
“Well Roy, he’s been acting rather odd lately, but mostly after the incident happened. That, and this old newspaper article that I found” Bob then took out what looked like an old, aged piece of newspaper. Roy, taking the paper, turned it over and read ‘Local Teenager Made Honorary Engineer, gets crash course on how to drive a train”. Under the headliner was a picture of two figures standing in front of the train, one of them was obviously Willie, but the other figure was identified as “Jonathan Halve”.
“And you haven’t pointed your finger at him yet, why?” Roy inquired.
Bob simply responded “Mayor’s got a lot of friends in Riverside. I’d need solid proof that Halve killed Willie, and besides, Bobby has red hair while Halve is flat-out bald”.
“Well, I’d better go solve this thing.” remarked Roy as he shook his head while walking out to meet Bobby “And there goes my so-called ‘worry-free’ vacation”
Here's chapter 2, 4 U
CHAPTER 2: Suspects, Surprises, and Secretaries
Roy stood in front of the Riverside Hospital, pondering the case. So far he had a method of death and a logical suspect, but everything else was unknown.
“Possible motive number one: hatred of Willie for something. Well, I’d best see the suspect to test my theory,” Roy said to himself as he walked in. Bobby had required psychiatric care after his father’s death, making it seem even less likely he would be the culprit. A nurse led Roy in after he showed her a note from Bob giving him permission. They exchanged greetings as Roy sat down in a chair next to Bobby taking out his notepad and pen. Bobby was an average sized man with blue eyes, but what really caught Roy’s attention was bobby’s red hair, but Roy made no comment on it.
“Hello, Bobby, I’m Roy Whitman, Private Investigator. I’ve heard that you killed your father.”
“For the LAST time, I didn’t kill him!!!” exclaimed Bobby
“Now, Bobby, I didn’t say that you actually did, all I want is to ask you some questions, alright?”
“Alright.”
“Now, first off, if your father died, was there anything you would have gained from it?”
“Well, I would become the new driver of the F3 and I would receive everything he owned that he didn’t leave to other people, but I wouldn’t kill for any of that ever.”
“I see. O.K., second question: Are you the only person who knows how to drive 4056?”
“Yes, sir”
“Aright, thank you for putting up with this. Now, where were you last Monday, the day of the disaster?”
“ I was working my side job as a janitor here. I’m the one usually responsible for keeping this place sparkly clean.”
“Thank you Bobby, those are all the questions I have.”
“Mr. Whitman?”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to hire you to find out what’s going on around here.”
These were the words that Roy knew that would bond him to this case, for he NEVER refused a client.
“Very well Bobby, I’ll accept your offer. I’ll send my bill when this is all over.”
“Thank you, Mr. Whitman”
Roy said goodbye and was heading out when he suddenly dropped his notepad, causing it to flutter everywhere after it flew into a patient’s room.
“Son of a gun!” said Roy as he went after them “I never should have used my unbound notebook!”
As he entered the room, he could clearly see that this was a child’s room, occupied by a third grader judging by the homework on the counter. A quick glance to the clipboard said that the patient was indeed a 9-year-old. Her name was Mavis Thomson, and she had bone cancer in her left leg. Of course, his papers had decided to cover most of the floor and some were still fluttering.
“My apologies, miss,” Said the slightly embarrassed investigator to Mavis. “I’m not very organized.”
“It’s okay,” said Mavis cheerfully, in an accent that sounded like she was older “I like surprises most of the time.”
“Well, that’s good” said Roy, still trying to organize the papers “This might take a while though, these are papers that cover my everyday things for the past six months. I still don’t know how I’m still in my profession.”
“Maybe I can help; I’m organized.” said Mavis.
The investigator, still slightly embarrassed, handed over the bundle of unorganized papers. Mavis got them all sorted out in 10 minutes. The detective was frozen in utter amazement at the little girl.
“I get that look a lot from people who don’t know me well.” she said, giggling.
“Uh, thanks a bunch, Miss Thomson.” said the startled investigator, slightly wincing.
“It wasn’t anything big, Mr. Whitman, and call me Mavis, please,” Mavis said.
“Ok, Mavis, um…,” Roy tried to respond “Hey, wait a minute! How did you know my name?”
Mavis calmly responded, “Your papers have ‘Roy Whitman, P.I.’ on all of their tops.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Well, I’d better go so I won’t loose my reservation at the hotel. I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”
“In this room, of course. I can’t walk because of cancer in my leftleg and I have nowhere to go because I don’t know my parents. The only reason I’m even here is because Willie, the guy who used to drive that train, used a good deal of his own savings for me.”
“Oh, my” said the detective in a subdued manner “Well, then I’ll see you around in this room.”
The two laughed lightly as Roy left the room.
“Possible motive #2: Keep Willie from helping Mavis.” the investigator said to himself as he walked out of the hospital. The only other thing on his mind was to get something for Mavis to thank her for her help.
As Roy walked to the hotel, he noticed two people arguing on the sidewalk in front of a local bookshop. One person was an elderly man, probably the shopkeeper, while the other reminded Roy of Lex Luthor from the Superman Returns movie. The Lex Luthor guy stormed out in a huff as Roy looked on.
“Dang that Halve to heck, dagnabit!” said the shopkeeper “Everyone says he acts like that Lex somebody. Why, I’d even say he’s somehow responsible for Willie’s death somehow! How he even became mayor is anyone’s guess, but he seems to want power and thinks that power gives him free stuff! Of course, why he wanted this old book on old mechanical stuff is beyond me, he hardly passed law school, dang it all…” The shopkeeper just walked back inside, muttering to himself.
“A book of old machine workings?” Roy, curious now, walked inside and inquired about it, careful not to stir up the old store worker again. The shopkeeper let him look at it after fetching it for him.
“This book is indeed full of old machines of 1940, but why a book of advanced mechanics? For what reason?”
Suspecting that the shopkeeper knew a lot about this man, Roy inquired about Halve. All he could make out of the worker’s rants was that the man in question was Mayor John Halve. He also got the info that Halve was a good learner in stuff he really concentrated on, like politics. He also learned that he seemed ‘on edge,’ but Roy concluded that was out of Halve’s usual personality. Roy also couldn’t shake the fact that Halve looked surprisingly like Bobby, but was bald instead of s head of red hair like Bobby’s and was 4 inches taller. Roy thanked the man, and, with enough info for one day and it getting late (he got in around 6 PM), he decided to turn in for the day.
As Roy got ready for bed, he summarized his day’s finds.
“Carter, Bobby, Son of Willie Carter, victim. Says loved dad and nothing Willie had was worth murder.”
“Halve, John. Mayor of town. Thinks power = dictatorship. 4056 is very valuable, maybe thinks money = power too?”
Out of ideas, the detective went to bed, planning the next day’s to-do list.
CHAPTER 2: Suspects, Surprises, and Secretaries
Roy stood in front of the Riverside Hospital, pondering the case. So far he had a method of death and a logical suspect, but everything else was unknown.
“Possible motive number one: hatred of Willie for something. Well, I’d best see the suspect to test my theory,” Roy said to himself as he walked in. Bobby had required psychiatric care after his father’s death, making it seem even less likely he would be the culprit. A nurse led Roy in after he showed her a note from Bob giving him permission. They exchanged greetings as Roy sat down in a chair next to Bobby taking out his notepad and pen. Bobby was an average sized man with blue eyes, but what really caught Roy’s attention was bobby’s red hair, but Roy made no comment on it.
“Hello, Bobby, I’m Roy Whitman, Private Investigator. I’ve heard that you killed your father.”
“For the LAST time, I didn’t kill him!!!” exclaimed Bobby
“Now, Bobby, I didn’t say that you actually did, all I want is to ask you some questions, alright?”
“Alright.”
“Now, first off, if your father died, was there anything you would have gained from it?”
“Well, I would become the new driver of the F3 and I would receive everything he owned that he didn’t leave to other people, but I wouldn’t kill for any of that ever.”
“I see. O.K., second question: Are you the only person who knows how to drive 4056?”
“Yes, sir”
“Aright, thank you for putting up with this. Now, where were you last Monday, the day of the disaster?”
“ I was working my side job as a janitor here. I’m the one usually responsible for keeping this place sparkly clean.”
“Thank you Bobby, those are all the questions I have.”
“Mr. Whitman?”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to hire you to find out what’s going on around here.”
These were the words that Roy knew that would bond him to this case, for he NEVER refused a client.
“Very well Bobby, I’ll accept your offer. I’ll send my bill when this is all over.”
“Thank you, Mr. Whitman”
Roy said goodbye and was heading out when he suddenly dropped his notepad, causing it to flutter everywhere after it flew into a patient’s room.
“Son of a gun!” said Roy as he went after them “I never should have used my unbound notebook!”
As he entered the room, he could clearly see that this was a child’s room, occupied by a third grader judging by the homework on the counter. A quick glance to the clipboard said that the patient was indeed a 9-year-old. Her name was Mavis Thomson, and she had bone cancer in her left leg. Of course, his papers had decided to cover most of the floor and some were still fluttering.
“My apologies, miss,” Said the slightly embarrassed investigator to Mavis. “I’m not very organized.”
“It’s okay,” said Mavis cheerfully, in an accent that sounded like she was older “I like surprises most of the time.”
“Well, that’s good” said Roy, still trying to organize the papers “This might take a while though, these are papers that cover my everyday things for the past six months. I still don’t know how I’m still in my profession.”
“Maybe I can help; I’m organized.” said Mavis.
The investigator, still slightly embarrassed, handed over the bundle of unorganized papers. Mavis got them all sorted out in 10 minutes. The detective was frozen in utter amazement at the little girl.
“I get that look a lot from people who don’t know me well.” she said, giggling.
“Uh, thanks a bunch, Miss Thomson.” said the startled investigator, slightly wincing.
“It wasn’t anything big, Mr. Whitman, and call me Mavis, please,” Mavis said.
“Ok, Mavis, um…,” Roy tried to respond “Hey, wait a minute! How did you know my name?”
Mavis calmly responded, “Your papers have ‘Roy Whitman, P.I.’ on all of their tops.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Well, I’d better go so I won’t loose my reservation at the hotel. I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”
“In this room, of course. I can’t walk because of cancer in my leftleg and I have nowhere to go because I don’t know my parents. The only reason I’m even here is because Willie, the guy who used to drive that train, used a good deal of his own savings for me.”
“Oh, my” said the detective in a subdued manner “Well, then I’ll see you around in this room.”
The two laughed lightly as Roy left the room.
“Possible motive #2: Keep Willie from helping Mavis.” the investigator said to himself as he walked out of the hospital. The only other thing on his mind was to get something for Mavis to thank her for her help.
As Roy walked to the hotel, he noticed two people arguing on the sidewalk in front of a local bookshop. One person was an elderly man, probably the shopkeeper, while the other reminded Roy of Lex Luthor from the Superman Returns movie. The Lex Luthor guy stormed out in a huff as Roy looked on.
“Dang that Halve to heck, dagnabit!” said the shopkeeper “Everyone says he acts like that Lex somebody. Why, I’d even say he’s somehow responsible for Willie’s death somehow! How he even became mayor is anyone’s guess, but he seems to want power and thinks that power gives him free stuff! Of course, why he wanted this old book on old mechanical stuff is beyond me, he hardly passed law school, dang it all…” The shopkeeper just walked back inside, muttering to himself.
“A book of old machine workings?” Roy, curious now, walked inside and inquired about it, careful not to stir up the old store worker again. The shopkeeper let him look at it after fetching it for him.
“This book is indeed full of old machines of 1940, but why a book of advanced mechanics? For what reason?”
Suspecting that the shopkeeper knew a lot about this man, Roy inquired about Halve. All he could make out of the worker’s rants was that the man in question was Mayor John Halve. He also got the info that Halve was a good learner in stuff he really concentrated on, like politics. He also learned that he seemed ‘on edge,’ but Roy concluded that was out of Halve’s usual personality. Roy also couldn’t shake the fact that Halve looked surprisingly like Bobby, but was bald instead of s head of red hair like Bobby’s and was 4 inches taller. Roy thanked the man, and, with enough info for one day and it getting late (he got in around 6 PM), he decided to turn in for the day.
As Roy got ready for bed, he summarized his day’s finds.
“Carter, Bobby, Son of Willie Carter, victim. Says loved dad and nothing Willie had was worth murder.”
“Halve, John. Mayor of town. Thinks power = dictatorship. 4056 is very valuable, maybe thinks money = power too?”
Out of ideas, the detective went to bed, planning the next day’s to-do list.
Chap.3 (short one here)
Chapter 3: Mystery on Rails
The next morning at 6:00, Roy got up to start the day. After doing the daily necessities (shower, breakfast, etc.), he called up Officer Bob to meet him at the place 4056 was stored in 30 minutes at 7. At 7, Roy was already waiting at the place of agreement when Bob showed up
“You’re late,” said Roy. “I thought we always met 15 minutes early, old bud.”
“I had too much paperwork to do,” Bob chuckled in reply.
Bob then whipped out a ring of keys and opened the shed doors. The F3 sat inside in all of its glory as the two friends walked in.
“I can see why it’s valuable” said Roy, for the 4056 was still shiny as the day it left the factory in 1941.
“Willie always made sure that this locomotive was kept in top condition. He even treated kids to Kay’s if they helped wash it off.”
“Speaking of keeping it running, I don’t believe F3 parts are made anymore and the only other F3’s out there are really modified F10’s”
“To be honest, I really don’t know. Willie was one heck of a mechanic. He even repaired Prairie Star’s ventilation system with toothpicks, duct tape, and a good kick.”
Roy then had an idea “Maybe Willie was killed so that he couldn’t repair this engine, and so some wealthy guy could come sweep it up?”
“That’s logical.” Bob said “But what if another person got it first? It does have a chance to backfire you know.”
“Speaking of wealthy people,” Roy spoke “I still have to talk to the richest guy in town, my other suspect.”
Bob then added “But there’s Mrs. Carter…”
“Like you said earlier Bob,” Roy interrupted, “We only have an argument as the only motive for murder. I don’t think that’s reasonable motive, and don’t even get started on the way she did it. There is absolutely no way possible she could have murdered her husband. Now, as I was saying, I need to see Halve.”
“And my pencil has some more papers to meet,” Bob chimed in.
Bob walked out, leaving Roy alone with the F3 with its mystery inside the shed.
“The only party involved in this case besides the murderer, that isn’t in someway blurred is you,” Roy spoke, turning towards the giant gas-guzzler. “You know the full story, if only you could tell us who’s lying and who’s not, you old legend you.”
As Roy walked out, locking the shed behind him, he suddenly remembered something with a shock.
“OH CRUD! How could I have forgotten?” Roy then took to his heels and ran to the toy shop. After learning that what he sought was lost in its store room, he spent 3 hours to find it, and finally bought his thank you for Mavis.
Ask and you shal recieve.. Pt.4!
RR Man said:Nice, I'm enjoying myself. Please add more
Chapter 4: Enter Lex Luthor, Stage Right
At fifteen minutes past ten a.m., Roy was in Halve’s office waiting for the ayor. During the wait, Roy took care to note the details.
“Ship in a bottle, tons of paperwork, love note, map of the great plains with traces of a red wig below it, hey, wait a second, a love letter?” Roy began to reach for it, but lurched back when he heard Halve coming.
“Sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Whitman,” Halve said with a smooth tone, as if he had something to hide. “I take it I shall have to answer some questions about this incident with Bobby killing his own father?”
“Correct, Mr. Halve,” Roy responded, adopting the same atitude as his host. “First off, did you have any connection with Willie Carter in any way whatsoever?”
“Other than the bills he gave me for keeping that money guz-” Halve then quickly caught himself. “I mean, the legendary engine running, and the reports he made of the daily chores, none whatsoever.”
“Hmm, interesting.” Roy said as he wrote in his notebook. As he wrote, he thought, “Why did he catch himself there? I think I’m onto something.” To keep the flow going, Roy then asked “Question number two: Now that Bobby can’t drive the 4056, what do you plan on doing with it?”
“I plan on selli- I mean, keep it around on display. It attracts tourists, which is a good little chunk of the budget’s income, for if no one can drive it, what good is it to have it still taking up space for another engine? The money it will bring me, wait, I mean, Riverside, will go towards expanding industry to make Riverside grow.” Roy sensed something in that answer which Roy interpreted as a desire to take the subject off the engine.
Halve apparently got his wish as Bob then burst in, exclaiming, “He’s done it again!” Both Halve and Roy jumped at this. Halve then ran outside to the growing mass of townsfolk near the rails to assess the problem and to quell people’s fears.
“Bob, who’s the one killed this time? I know that you’re going say Bobby’s the one who killed this guy,” said Roy asked in a worried tone.
“Don’t worry about the victim, Roy. The deceased person was apparently a drug runner for the Scarlet Hand Cartel judging by the symbol on his backpack and the large amount of illegal drugs in every available place in his pack and all his pockets. Bobby, as you guessed, has to have killed him. The U.P. switcher is delayed to arrive until noon, so that leaves only one train possible,” Bob replied. “Plus the padlock on the shed is busted and there are traces of blood on the engine’s underside.”
“But how? Bobby is still in the hospital,” Roy asked
“Well, witnesses say that they saw the F3 roll out of the shed down the line and run clear over the runner who must’ve thought he could beat it. Then witnesses say that Bobby rolled the F3 back into the shed and dashed back into the hospital, gown and all,” Bob replied.
Then Halve came back and panted from running. “I’m sorry, Mr. Whitman *pant*, but I’m going to have to reschedule our meeting because I’m going to be very busy with paperwork sorting this new incident out. *pant* Maybe the same time tomorrow?”
“That seems reasonable. Good day, Mr. Halve,” Roy replied
As he had nothing scheduled for the rest of the day, Roy decided to visit Mavis in the hospital. A few minutes later he was by her bedside watching her light up as she opened her present.
“Oh thanks a bunch, Roy!” the ecstatic third grader exclaimed. Roy’s present had been one of those wooden Thomas the Tank Engine toys. Although there had been quite a selection, Roy spent three hours trying to find the one that Mavis shared her name with.
“I thought you might like her.” the pleased detective replied. “But I’ve got even better stuff in store for you.” Roy then motioned his head towards the nurse who had just come with a wheelchair. Mavis’ face at the realization was more than enough to pay back Roy. The two spent the day having lunch out, watching trains go by on the nearby mainline, getting ice cream at Kay’s, etc. Mavis was having the time of her life, for she couldn’t remember the last time she had been out of her hospital bed. Roy, however, began to have a mutual feeling towards her, as if she was his own daughter. Roy kept it in the back of his mind as he watched Mavis have fun.
When the two got back to the hospital, the nurse had almost gone nuts she was so worried. Mavis and Roy had been out to almost 9 p.m. The two parted ways. After Mavis was carted back to her room, Roy turned, only to see another nurse waiting to tell him something, and it looked grim.
“Mr. Whitman, I presume?” the nurse asked.
“I am him,” Roy answered.
“I think you should know that the girl you have been going about with, Mavis Thomson, doesn’t have long to live.”
Roy was sure that if his jaw wasn’t connected to his skull that it would have crashed to the ground. “W-what?” he stammered in response.
“Mavis’s bone cancer has begun to spread faster than we can treat. It will shut her body’s cells down in a matter of one week. There is one way to save her, but I’m afraid it can’t be done without a miracle.”
“How can she be saved?” Roy sounded a little desperate.
“The only way to save her is to amputate the infected leg and replace it with a prosthetic one grafted to the hip bone, but we can’t find the money in our budget, and she doesn’t have a medical plan that can cover it. The only way is if someone donated a large sum of money, say $200,000…”
The next second had Roy holding a check for $200,000 half a foot from his face saying, “Who do I make it out to?” The nurse could see he was dead serious. He seemed to have a level of love for this girl as if he was her own father.
later, a detective $200,000 poorer went to bed with two things on his mind: What Halve was hiding, and how was he going to keep this a secret from Mavis.
“Ship in a bottle, tons of paperwork, love note, map of the great plains with traces of a red wig below it, hey, wait a second, a love letter?” Roy began to reach for it, but lurched back when he heard Halve coming.
“Sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Whitman,” Halve said with a smooth tone, as if he had something to hide. “I take it I shall have to answer some questions about this incident with Bobby killing his own father?”
“Correct, Mr. Halve,” Roy responded, adopting the same atitude as his host. “First off, did you have any connection with Willie Carter in any way whatsoever?”
“Other than the bills he gave me for keeping that money guz-” Halve then quickly caught himself. “I mean, the legendary engine running, and the reports he made of the daily chores, none whatsoever.”
“Hmm, interesting.” Roy said as he wrote in his notebook. As he wrote, he thought, “Why did he catch himself there? I think I’m onto something.” To keep the flow going, Roy then asked “Question number two: Now that Bobby can’t drive the 4056, what do you plan on doing with it?”
“I plan on selli- I mean, keep it around on display. It attracts tourists, which is a good little chunk of the budget’s income, for if no one can drive it, what good is it to have it still taking up space for another engine? The money it will bring me, wait, I mean, Riverside, will go towards expanding industry to make Riverside grow.” Roy sensed something in that answer which Roy interpreted as a desire to take the subject off the engine.
Halve apparently got his wish as Bob then burst in, exclaiming, “He’s done it again!” Both Halve and Roy jumped at this. Halve then ran outside to the growing mass of townsfolk near the rails to assess the problem and to quell people’s fears.
“Bob, who’s the one killed this time? I know that you’re going say Bobby’s the one who killed this guy,” said Roy asked in a worried tone.
“Don’t worry about the victim, Roy. The deceased person was apparently a drug runner for the Scarlet Hand Cartel judging by the symbol on his backpack and the large amount of illegal drugs in every available place in his pack and all his pockets. Bobby, as you guessed, has to have killed him. The U.P. switcher is delayed to arrive until noon, so that leaves only one train possible,” Bob replied. “Plus the padlock on the shed is busted and there are traces of blood on the engine’s underside.”
“But how? Bobby is still in the hospital,” Roy asked
“Well, witnesses say that they saw the F3 roll out of the shed down the line and run clear over the runner who must’ve thought he could beat it. Then witnesses say that Bobby rolled the F3 back into the shed and dashed back into the hospital, gown and all,” Bob replied.
Then Halve came back and panted from running. “I’m sorry, Mr. Whitman *pant*, but I’m going to have to reschedule our meeting because I’m going to be very busy with paperwork sorting this new incident out. *pant* Maybe the same time tomorrow?”
“That seems reasonable. Good day, Mr. Halve,” Roy replied
As he had nothing scheduled for the rest of the day, Roy decided to visit Mavis in the hospital. A few minutes later he was by her bedside watching her light up as she opened her present.
“Oh thanks a bunch, Roy!” the ecstatic third grader exclaimed. Roy’s present had been one of those wooden Thomas the Tank Engine toys. Although there had been quite a selection, Roy spent three hours trying to find the one that Mavis shared her name with.
“I thought you might like her.” the pleased detective replied. “But I’ve got even better stuff in store for you.” Roy then motioned his head towards the nurse who had just come with a wheelchair. Mavis’ face at the realization was more than enough to pay back Roy. The two spent the day having lunch out, watching trains go by on the nearby mainline, getting ice cream at Kay’s, etc. Mavis was having the time of her life, for she couldn’t remember the last time she had been out of her hospital bed. Roy, however, began to have a mutual feeling towards her, as if she was his own daughter. Roy kept it in the back of his mind as he watched Mavis have fun.
When the two got back to the hospital, the nurse had almost gone nuts she was so worried. Mavis and Roy had been out to almost 9 p.m. The two parted ways. After Mavis was carted back to her room, Roy turned, only to see another nurse waiting to tell him something, and it looked grim.
“Mr. Whitman, I presume?” the nurse asked.
“I am him,” Roy answered.
“I think you should know that the girl you have been going about with, Mavis Thomson, doesn’t have long to live.”
Roy was sure that if his jaw wasn’t connected to his skull that it would have crashed to the ground. “W-what?” he stammered in response.
“Mavis’s bone cancer has begun to spread faster than we can treat. It will shut her body’s cells down in a matter of one week. There is one way to save her, but I’m afraid it can’t be done without a miracle.”
“How can she be saved?” Roy sounded a little desperate.
“The only way to save her is to amputate the infected leg and replace it with a prosthetic one grafted to the hip bone, but we can’t find the money in our budget, and she doesn’t have a medical plan that can cover it. The only way is if someone donated a large sum of money, say $200,000…”
The next second had Roy holding a check for $200,000 half a foot from his face saying, “Who do I make it out to?” The nurse could see he was dead serious. He seemed to have a level of love for this girl as if he was her own father.
later, a detective $200,000 poorer went to bed with two things on his mind: What Halve was hiding, and how was he going to keep this a secret from Mavis.
Chapter 5: Red Hair-ings
The next day, at 10:30 A.M., Halve and Roy answered questions from the police. Halve had just narrowly avoided assassination. Thirty minutes earlier Halve and Roy were going off chit chat, warming up to questions. Roy then heard a muffled scream, a whispered “Shut your mouth!”, and someone ripping out the call box. Roy also heard the click of a Desert Eagle pistol outside. After telling Halve to hush, he hid on the side of the door without the hinges. When the assassin broke in, Roy acted quickly, knocking him out in 10 seconds flat. Roy stood up and told a shocked and panting Halve “I’ve knocked people out in five seconds before, I’m still drowsy apparently.”
Back to present times, it was discovered that he was from the Scarlet Hand Cartel, and was going to kill the person who did it. Because Bobby was under police guard in the hospital, he hoped to kill Halve because the assassin had apparently heard he was a suspect and the wanna-be killer wanted no loose ends.
Roy was waiting to get on with his questions to Halve, but the police wouldn’t stop asking question after question. Then, out of the corner of Roy’s eye, the keen investigator saw the letter he noted yesterday. Scooting over in front of the desk, and making sure that no one was looking, secretly and silently, slipped it into a hidden pocket on the back of his jacket cleverly disguised as a patch and closed it so as to not lose his clue. Roy said that he would ask his questions tomorrow to Halve, with an agreeing nod from the latter, and so Roy walked out. He didn’t know why, but he somehow ended up outside Mavis’ room. He could tell because he saw in the TV’s reflection the two of the same name, the person and the toy.
“You got a big break in the case didn’t you?” Mavis suddenly said out of the blue.
The detective tried to respond but got tongue tied from the sudden truth that Mavis had spoken.
“I’m right aren’t I?” Mavis giggled. “I’ve gone to elementary, Whitman.”
Roy couldn’t hold back laughter after that response. “Alright, so you guessed it right!” He sputtered. “I suppose you want to see it?”
Mavis nodded and so Roy took the unopened letter from the secret slot on the inside of the coat and handed it to Mavis. Mavis ripped the top off and began reading.
“Oh dear sweet John!...” Oh dear, I know where this is going. “How I long for you to be with me here in Miami, Florida! But how much longer must you pretend to be the leader of that dreadful liquid-deprived wasteland of a town so you can arrange the sale of that valuable train down here to sell?’ She listed her phone number here, apparently she lost her previous one in a sewer gutter or something.”
“I don’t think we’ll need that number, Mavis, for the woman just condemned her ‘dear sweet John’ to a few dozen years in a federal jail, but we need something else, something that proves that Halve was impersonating Bobby.” Roy replied.
Suddenly, Mavis said “Hey wait a minute! Halve looks almost just like Bobby, doesn’t he? All he’d need was a red wig to complete the look!”
Roy was dumbfounded. A red wig! Why didn’t he realize that detail earlier? Officer Bob mentioned that part; he’d seen both suspects and did agree that a red wig would make them look like twins, and the traces of a red wig near the painting in Halve’s office! It all made sense now as to how Halve pulled it off.
“But we need more evidence proving that Halve could drive the train, or else everything could be judged as planted evidence”. Mavis suddenly said in a frustrated manner.
“Officer Bob found that evidence first.” Roy answered with a grin as he took out the incriminating article.
Indeed it was all clear now. Back when Halve was still a middle school student, he’d been taught how to drive the locomotive, and remembered how seemingly. The shopkeeper said that Halve remembered anything if he tried hard enough to memorize it, so that confirmed that part. Now, fast forward to a few days ago: Apparently Halve, now the mayor, had been approached by some train collectors from China and was offered $1,000,000 finder’s fee if he brought them the CNW F3 #4056, and Halve couldn’t resist, so he agreed to meet up with them, 4056 in tow, and exchange property and money. Halve was blocked by some obstacles, however. First off, Willie was still the engineer for the F3, and he wouldn’t ever let Halve sell it. Then there was Bobby, Willie’s son, who would take over driving the F3 because he was more experienced in driving it, and he was believed to be the only one who could drive it after Willie. Halve knew he had to eliminate them, and he got lucky: no one remembered he had some experience behind 4056’s controls. He tricked Willie onto the tracks late one night, and by dressing up as Bobby, wig and all, he ran Willie over. Halve had planned to run Bobby over, but his resulting necessity to go into psychiatric care made his job easier. But when Bobby was getting better, Halve had to make sure he was out of the picture. Dressing up as Bobby once more, he drove the train around while at the same time Roy was looking for Mavis’ gift, and accidentally ran the drug runner over. That’s why he was late for his first meeting with Roy, he was covering his trail so he wouldn’t be caught. Halve was probably hiding his wig on his person, but there were strands of it near the painting.
“Well Mavis,” Roy spoke suddenly. “With this evidence, Halve doesn’t have a defense.”
Mavis just smiled and said “Go get some sleep Roy, you’ll need it for tomorrows hearing. You got a town to save.”
Chapter 6: Trial by Rail
In the courthouse, the entire room was packed. The defendant was Bobby Carter, the accuser was the district attorney of Illinois. All the evidence seemed to go against Bobby on charges of both first degree murder and manslaughter for the deaths of Willie Carter and the drug runner, respectively. However, when Roy Whitman took the stand, he turned the entire case upside down.
“Mr. Whitman,” Bobby’s lawyer asked, “Is it true that you have evidence that Bobby is in fact innocent, when our very own mayor is the culprit of both charges?”
The entire crowd gasped.
“Yes, it is,” Roy smoothly replied. “I have more than enough information to charge John Halve with both counts. I have proof of his plan in the form of a letter from his girlfriend who listed his plot in plain English.” Roy noted that Halve, sitting awfully close to the middle near the door, was beginning to sweat a little too much for it to be heat. “My friend, Officer Bob, has also found an old newspaper article, proving that Halve could indeed drive the train!”
Halve wasn’t going to stay to hear the rest of it. He dashed out of the courthouse and ran to the engine shed.
“Get him! Don’t let him get to the locomotive!” Bob yelled in the following pandemonium. “We can’t stop him if he gets it running!”
Roy watched the forming mob of angry townsfolk chase Halve down to the shed as Roy chuckled to himself, leaning on a doorpost. “You forgot one thing Halve.” Roy held up a key “How are you going to start the F3 now?” Halve had left it near the letter the day he was almost assassinated, so Roy slipped a key-shaped slip of tin in its place as Roy slipped it in his pocket with the letter.
Here's the last part, for now....
Chapter 7: One Story Ends, But a Greater One Begins
To make a long story short, Halve’s action of fleeing was proved as ‘evidence of guilt’. He was going to receive around 80 years, but a quick check of his felony list, which it was discovered, was quite a list at that, and so Halve got life in prison with no chance of parole, and that is where his story ends. Bobby, now cleared of all charges, and thus cured of his delirium, stepped up to become the new engineer of the F3 and keep Riverside running, and that’s all of him for this story. Roy got all of Halve’s money, given to him by unanimous public opinion, which was around $400,000, but he donated half of that to Mrs. Carter. The other half would make up for Bobby’s bill.
We now find Roy at the hospital, outside surgery. Mavis fell asleep via antiseptics an hour ago and the doctors are fighting to keep her alive. He also is waiting on word from City Hall. He has an even bigger surprise for Mavis, but worthless if she didn’t survive. He fell asleep around three hours after Mavis began surgery, but was jolted awake when Mavis was wheeled out.
The doctor then came up to him and told him that she was going to be fine. Then Roy got a call on his cell, he had been approved for adoption and his request to adopt Mavis as his own child was under review. Roy fainted on the spot from utter happiness.
“Roy? Hello, Roy? Are you alive?” Roy was waking up on the extra bed in Mavis’ room.
“Well what do we have here?” Roy asked in a cheerful manner as he sat up upon the bed.
“Thank you for the new leg, Roy!” she blurted out and she held out her arms to hug him.
“Some people came by to see you, said it was for an ‘important reason’ or so they put it,” Mavis added in.
“Huh?” Roy asked. He got up and walked to the lobby to meet these people. As it turned out, they were the adoption people, and Mavis was now legally Mavis Annabelle Whitman, daughter of Roy Benjamin Whitman. Mavis had overheard and gave a big cheer.
The day came when the newly-joined father and daughter had to leave Riverside for now. After packing all of Mavis’ toys, movies, and such into his car’s trunk while putting his single suitcase in the backseat, he said farewell with Mavis to the townsfolk who all had turned out to see them go. As they drove along the dirt road, leaving Riverside behind, the CNW 4056 F3 was stopped at the mill, and Bobby let the great streamliner toot its great horn to signal his goodbye to the detective. Roy honked his horn, for it was the best he could do. As the road then diverged onto State Route 60, Roy watched as his new daughter took in all the sights around her, as the two sped along the road, heading to Chicago. Roy was guessing that he was going to get a new case the moment he got home, but he didn’t mind. With Mavis now his daughter and partner in the field of investigations, the two detectives drove into the sunset.
Good story, CNW. A little editing here and there and it would make a great short story for a detective magazine. :thumb:
Cannonball said:
Thanks for the comment:thumb: It's funny, my mom said that after reading it over, too.sign1 Now, this isn't the last of the duo! I'm thinking up another story, and it WILL involve trains again! Now, if you want something on your layout, may it be a special building, locomotive, etc., that you want to have included in the series, please post and let me know!:thumb:
CNWman
cnwman great storie i loved it i would like you to put 6900 e8a in one of your stories thanks zacharyf
zachary said:
Thanks for the compliment zacharyf:thumb: As for your E8A, I'll gladly do it, but I need a little more info. Mainly what roadname is it and where would it be in the real world (As in where would it's prototype have worked?)