It's around 8:30 pm when you get the call from Agent Joseph Fort, your Bureau handler.
"There's been a kidnapping. Get to the Commissioner's office- immediately.", he says.
Part of you is almost relieved- since joining Hoover's "specialists" casework's been thin on the ground. It almost seemed like you would be writing tickets before long.
With few details beyond that, you hoof it to the City Hall precinct- a fortress like structure facing Brooklyn across the East River. Police officers and plan-clothes detectives run back and forth; another busy night in the Big Apple.
On the second floor, the activity thins out to a low buzz in the background, your footfalls echoing from the marble tile. Since Commissioner Valentine's secretary has gone home, you show yourselves in.
The warm glow of electric bulbs illuminate the Commissioner's stately office. Valentine sits at his neatly organized desk; middle-aged, clean shaven and severe. Commissioner Valentine is a recent appointment by Mayor LaGuardia- from what you know, he's cold, efficient and most importantly, clean. He puffs on a cigarette while Agent Fort looks out the window. Fort is a fit man in his late 40s- a Bureau veteran, his suits and his moustache are never less than immaculate. His scalp is balding and the creases in his face speak clearly of years of experience. A gold crucifix pin is on his lapel.
"The Just sleep, while the Wicked run amok.", Fort says as you enter,"We must be vigilant, especially in times like these."
Valentine snubs out his cigarette and gets down to business, not remarking on Fort's comments.
"I received a call from Colonel Ellis, an acquaintance, that a baby's been stolen from a mansion in Westchester. I know Fort and Hoover have you set aside for..."
The Commissioner frowns with distaste.
" "Supernatural" cases, but we both agreed that this is far too important to trust with anyone but our best investigators. There hasn't been a ransom note yet, but I want you up there before the Press gets their hands on this. No one needs another Lindbergh Baby."
Agent Fort hands you a piece of paper with an address.
"Here is the address of the Cornelisz Family. Do everything in your power to end this quickly, gentlemen. An innocent life hangs in the balance."
Jasper looks at the others in the office and says A kid's missin' boys. Let's go give the bastard that took her what for. Jasper then looks at the Commissioner before saying, What kind of time frame are we looking at Sir? How long has the baby been missing?
Another case from the Bureau. The cab ride over gave chance to reflect on how these opportunities provoke such profound ambivalence in me. The excitement of a real-world investigation certainly gets me out of the library stacks. Intellectually, it is fascinating to see ancient practices and beliefs survive and even thrive in the world's most 'modern' city. But these matters have a way of ending so... messy. Now hearing about the child I fear the worst and moreover I smell a rat.
Glancing around at my fellow investigators, I address Valentine. "Commissioner, you say there is no evidence indicating the need for our particular brand of expertise. Yet I cannot help but wonder if there is more to the case that you can share. I understand your desire to employ Agent Barley's fine skills but why drag a professor from his studies at this late hour?"
"Eight o'clock he was discovered missing, so the culprits can't be long gone.", Valentine says.
"I'm calling you in, Professor, because we can't rule anything out yet. The Corneliszes are wealthy eccentrics, with ties to spiritualism and other practices. What may be a mundane crime could mask even more nefarious purposes. There hasn't been a ransom note yet, as the Commissioner said.", Fort responds.
Tony arrives last of all, his shirt a mess, his eyes bloodshot and in serious need of shaving. He grumbles to himself all the way into Valentine's office. One there, he leans on the wall, searching of a pack of cigarettes that has seen better days. He smokes while the boss explains and the others question.
When Fort explains the reason for calling the Professor, Tony smiles humorlessly and shakes his head.
"This is ridiculous," he says, puffing smoke out of his nostrils. "Since when did we become babysitters?"
As Agent Giacomini displays his typically tactless behavior, I cannot help but allow a slight, bemused grin to cross my face. He's gruff all right but just the sort of fellow one wants in a tough scrape! I focus on Valentine and try to gauge his demeanor while we talk. Is he hiding something?
Tony arrives last of all, his shirt a mess, his eyes bloodshot and in serious need of shaving. He grumbles to himself all the way into Valentine's office. One there, he leans on the wall, searching of a pack of cigarettes that has seen better days. He smokes while the boss explains and the others question.
When Fort explains the reason for calling the Professor, Tony smiles humorlessly and shakes his head.
"This is ridiculous," he says, puffing smoke out of his nostrils. "Since when did we become babysitters?"
"Around the time kidnapping became a federal offense, Detective.", Valentine says, a look of disgust crossing his face as he addresses Giacomini,"But if you feel it's beneath you, we can just let you head back to whatever ditch you had been curled up in and let the department cancel your paycheck."
"I believe we've spoken about your appearance, Detective Giacomini.", Agent Fort says.
Blackwell:
Tom leans over and offers the detective a light, and then leans back against the wall, smoking his own lucky strike. He takes in what the others have to say, and jots down a few notes, wondering once again what he has to offer in light of the knowledge and abilities of the others in the room.
Tony gives Fort shit-eating grin and pretends to adjust his shirt's colar, his cigarette hanging on his lip. He changes his focus back to Valentine.
"Never said I wouldn't do it. It has been a long time since any work could get lower than me."
Tony leans away from the wall, puffs out smoke and approaches the window Fort is at, flinging the stub of his cigarette outside into the night.
"Why are we wasting time here anyway? Let's go."
Not wanting to see patience worn even thinner or tempers flare further, I stand and place myself between the Bureau chief and Giacomini. "*Ahem*" Offering a hand to our bosses, "Agent Fort, Commissioner, thank you for your confidence. We will do our utmost to bring matters to a swift and hopefully safe conclusion." Turning, I give Agent Giacomini a quick, knowing glance then take my hat and move towards the door.
Tommy looks at the professor and the detective, and then at Commissioner Valentine and Agent Fort. "Is that it, sirs?"
"That's all, Brennan. I want that kid home as soon as possible.", Valentine says.
You divide yourselves between Giacomini's beat up Ford and Barley's newer sedan and start the long drive upstate from lower Manhattan. North on the west side, you cut through the Meat Packing District into Midtown. Harlem slides by your windows; swinging jazz clubs down the road from tenement buildings, the latter more prevalent as you ride through the Bronx. Before you know it, you've left the city lights behind and you're left only with your headlights to guide you. Past suburbs and tree-lined boulevards you head further from the urban center of New York and into the more pastoral areas. Houses grow more spread out, the autumn moon illuminating fields, forest and hills. Once you've passed Tarrytown (Washington Irving's own Sleepy Hollow not far away, as Professor Blackwell is so kind to point out), you're only a short distance from Westchester and the Corneliszes mansion.
You arrive at the Cornelisz house around 10pm. A short avenue leads from the road to the house. The gates are open and lights can be seen blazing in the mansion's windows. The home is surrounded by gardens, from what you can see from the drive and in a very upscale area. You park your cars, kill the lights and walk up to the front door. After a few knocks, you're greeted by a man in a sharp suit, his dark eyes heavy-lidded. He looks exhausted.
"Salutations.", he says in a pronounced Dutch accent,"I am Jacob Cornelisz; you are the Politie?"
Tommy looks at the professor and the detective, and then at Commissioner Valentine and Agent Fort. "Is that it, sirs?"
On my way out the office doors I give Brennan a nudge in the ribs, wink, and whisper, "Crisis averted, eh, old chum?"
You divide yourselves between Giacomini's beat up Ford and Barley's newer sedan and start the long drive upstate... you've passed Tarrytown (Washington Irving's own Sleepy Hollow not far away, as Professor Blackwell is so kind to point out)...
Noticing Agent Giacomini's dour mood, I decide to cheer him up with some impromptu discussions of the area's history and legends.
"...and this, my dear Anthony, was also Iroquois land. They built their famous 'long houses' which served as communal meeting areas as well as storehouses for food. Technically they were not know as the 'Six Nations' until 1722 when Tuscarora joined their Confederacy. Are you familiar with this story? No? Excellent! Well, the Seneca and Onondaga had a history of bad blood with the Tuscarora but a marriage was sealed that...
Agent Jasper drove carefully up to the front of the large mansion, taking note of possible entrances and exits that those of ill repute may have taken in order to gain entrance to the property. Shutting off the engine, Jasper walks to the front door with the rest of the group. When the gentleman opens the door Jasper says, I am Special Agent Jasper Barley of the FBI. We are here to help. He then waits for the others to introduce themselves.
Approaching the well-lit house allows some appraisal as to its age. I also look at the surrounding grounds as best I can to look for monuments, tombstones, or other markers.
At the door: "Greetings, sir. I wish our introductions could be under better circumstances. I am Professor Thaddeus Blackwell from NYU and am an advisor to these good men."
Hmm... that name Cornelisz rings a bell. I wonder if this gentleman is related to the famed Dutch painters of the same name? Offhand I do not remember that name tied to patroonships in the colonial era.
After a rather (not) entertaining 2 hours ride to the crime scene in which Tony eventually quit his attempts on using his sour look to shup up the professor, the former Homicide detective simply tried to think of something else. That only served to worsen his mood, as his mind kept wandering back to the Red Hook Raid and... nothing.
He takes a deep breath as the supposed master of the house introduces himself.
"Giacomini, FBI," he says, drawing a cigarette and his lighter. He shows himself into the house, without waiting for Jacob to invite him. "Where was the child before he went missing?"
Tony lights the cigarette, looking around the fancy place's entry hall.
Riding with Jasper, Tommy makes small talk, but mostly keep to himself. His thoughts keep returning to Red Hook, and he wonders for the 100th time if he should discuss the incident with Det. Giacomini. The ride passes, however, without a decision made.
Once they arrive, he introduces himself, leaving out that he's a reporter, as that's not his role. After formalities are taken care of, he steps back and let's the others take the lead, content to take notes until he feels he has something to offer.
Approaching the well-lit house allows some appraisal as to its age. I also look at the surrounding grounds as best I can to look for monuments, tombstones, or other markers.
At the door: "Greetings, sir. I wish our introductions could be under better circumstances. I am Professor Thaddeus Blackwell from NYU and am an advisor to these good men."
Hmm... that name Cornelisz rings a bell. I wonder if this gentleman is related to the famed Dutch painters of the same name? Offhand I do not remember that name tied to patroonships in the colonial era.
History:
On the walk to the front door, Jasper notes plenty of windows (though none broken or open) that could have provided a means of egress. Not to mention the hedges and gardens surrounding the mansion, which would provide ample hiding spots. Couple that with the mansion's distance from neighboring homes and it's very easy to see how a break-in could be pulled off.
Jacob steps aside after Giacomini pushes past him.
"Yes, well, thank you for coming. Adam was taken from his crib upstairs while Harriet and I were attending Colonel Ellis back here for him to acquire one of my volumes on history. I understand you must record statements and so forth. My wife, Colonel Ellis and our servant, Olga, are all in the drawing room if you will join me."
Mr. Cornelisz motions to a room down the hall from the foyer where you entered.
On our way to the drawing room I walk next to Jacob, "A volume of history, you say? Forgive me for what may seem inconsequential at this point, but might I take a peek at this book?"
Also keeping an eye on the mansion's decor; paintings, knick-knacks, family crests, and so on... this family's history is piquing my interest.
Giacomini notices how easy it would be to get in and out of the house without been seen. He smiles humorlessly, shaking his head. That is why he prefers to live in his cramped little appartment with clear sight of all entryways.
Hearing what Jacob says, Giacomini heads to the stairs and begins to go up. "Which room?"
As the Detective heads up the stairs, Tommy looks from him to the group and back again. Watching the others as they head down the hallway, Tommy mutters, "Uh, Detective . . . " as he points the way.
Giacomini glances at Tommy and back at Jacob, then back to the reporter.
"You must have noticed I'm not a people's person." He puffs out some smoke and hubs his eyes with his fingers, as if trying to push away both sleep and reality. "Speak with them while I speak with the evidence."
"The nursery is the third door on the left. Just look for the crib and you are in the correct room.", Jacob says.
On our way to the drawing room I walk next to Jacob, "A volume of history, you say? Forgive me for what may seem inconsequential at this point, but might I take a peek at this book?"
"I doubt it will matter in light of Adam's kidnapping... Professor... but you may."
You follow Jacob to the drawing room while Giacomini looks upstairs. From what you can see, the mansion is mostly empty, room after room containing dusty portraits, books and antique furniture.
The drawing room is lit with standing lamps, a Persian carpet on the floor. A small fire burns in the fireplace, driving off the evening's chill while a portrait of a severe looking man in 17th century garb bearing a resemblance to Jacob stares down from the wall. On a divan before a mahogany coffee table sits a stunningly beautiful woman with auburn hair. Her eyes glisten slightly, as if with tears when she looks up at your entrance. Beside her is an older man with grey hair and a thick moustache, a monocle or set of reading glasses tucked into his jacket's breast pocket. A sturdy-looking blonde woman in a black servant's dress brings in a carafe of coffee and several cups.
"This is my wife, Harriet, and the gentleman is our compatriot Colonel Ellis. Olga, take our guests' coats and pour them coffee.", Jacob says. The young woman, presumably Olga, nods quickly and comes forward to take your coats. When she gets close, you can see that her eyes are red and puffy- she's been crying.
Colonel Ellis speaks up.
"Ah! You must be Valentine's boys, finally! The best place to start is to find the synagogue around here: missing baby, bound to be Jews! That's what I say, even without a ransom note! Or perhaps it's the Freemasons! There's a Masonic Hall in town, on Pickett Lane! Just bust a few heads and I'm sure they'll cough little Adam right up!"
Jacob lets out the smallest of weary sighs at the Colonel's "advice".
"That... will not be necessary. I understand there is a procedure for such things; I am certain a ransom note shall be delivered- I shall simply pay for Adam's return. No lucre could compare to my only son's safety. I am sure it will be over swiftly without any unnecessary risk."
Medicine-
Giacomini glances at Tommy and back at Jacob, then back to the reporter.
"You must have noticed I'm not a people's person." He puffs out some smoke and hubs his eyes with his fingers, as if trying to push away both sleep and reality. "Speak with them while I speak with the evidence."
Up the carpeted staircase, Giacomini finds the empty nursery. The window is neither broken nor open, no signs of forced entry or struggle with only a rumpled blanket in the crib to show that there was a baby there.
Forensics or Locksmith:
Colonel Ellis speaks up. "Ah! You must be Valentine's boys, finally! The best place to start is to find the synagogue around here: missing baby, bound to be Jews! That's what I say, even without a ransom note! Or perhaps it's the Freemasons! There's a Masonic Hall in town, on Pickett Lane! Just bust a few heads and I'm sure they'll cough little Adam right up!"
Yes, and if not them then the Reds... Poppycock!
Mrs. Cornelisz, Colonel, so pleased to meet you. I am Thaddeus Blackwell of New York University. M'lady, understand that the men who came with me are the best in the business. We hope to find your child straightaway."
"My dear Colonel, let us take a look at the evidence before leaping ahead with fanciful theories. Occam's Razor, eh?"
"Coffee? Why thank you, Olga." Noticing her eyes, "You are very kind."
I look to see if the text is about.
Giacomini surveys the room in search of any clues to what may have happened, checking the window, the floor near the crib and the crib itself.
While checking the windowsill for prints, Giacomini stares outside at the surrounding area, wondering if someone who came from the outside would not have left dirt or grass on the nursery's floor. He then sticks his head outside the window, checking if there is any way someone might be able to climb to this window and down, especially holding a baby. Somehow that idea sounds every time less possible, which would mean someone inside the house.
"Thank you," Tommy says, taking a cup of coffee and setting it aside. Taking out his notebook, his reporter instincts kick in, and he starts to ask questions. "When was the last time anyone saw Adam? When was he discovered missing? In between, did anybody hear anything unusual?"
Giacomini surveys the room in search of any clues to what may have happened, checking the window, the floor near the crib and the crib itself.
While checking the windowsill for prints, Giacomini stares outside at the surrounding area, wondering if someone who came from the outside would not have left dirt or grass on the nursery's floor. He then sticks his head outside the window, checking if there is any way someone might be able to climb to this window and down, especially holding a baby. Somehow that idea sounds every time less possible, which would mean someone inside the house.
Scaling the wall with a baby in hand would be next to impossible. A ladder would have been needed.
"Thank you," Tommy says, taking a cup of coffee and setting it aside. Taking out his notebook, his reporter instincts kick in, and he starts to ask questions. "When was the last time anyone saw Adam? When was he discovered missing? In between, did anybody hear anything unusual?"
Mrs. Cornelisz responds, her voice and demeanor composed despite the ordeal.
"We departed the house around six forty-five for an evening drive and to pick up Colonel Ellis. I checked in on Adam and left him with Olga before we left. We returned at eight and my Adam was gone. Nothing was amiss when I returned to check on him- nothing else missing, the window was even latched."All eyes turn to Olga. At a nod from Jacob, she speaks with a heavy Polish accent in broken english.
"At seven, I am putting Adam to sleep. Half hour later I am checking on him again. He is like angel, always to sleeping so quickly. Never to cry. After eight, I am bringing Mrs. Harriet to check on Adam and we are finding him gone. I hear nothing, see nothing before then. He is vanish!"
Colonel Ellis speaks up. "Ah! You must be Valentine's boys, finally! The best place to start is to find the synagogue around here: missing baby, bound to be Jews! That's what I say, even without a ransom note! Or perhaps it's the Freemasons! There's a Masonic Hall in town, on Pickett Lane! Just bust a few heads and I'm sure they'll cough little Adam right up!"Yes, and if not them then the Reds... Poppycock!
Mrs. Cornelisz, Colonel, so pleased to meet you. I am Thaddeus Blackwell of New York University. M'lady, understand that the men who came with me are the best in the business. We hope to find your child straightaway."
"My dear Colonel, let us take a look at the evidence before leaping ahead with fanciful theories. Occam's Razor, eh?"
"Coffee? Why thank you, Olga." Noticing her eyes, "You are very kind."
I look to see if the text is about.
A volume sits on the coffee table, "Battles of the Hudson River Valley". It's a text detailing famous military conflicts in the area- mostly Revolutionary War and War of 1812, since fighting in the Civil War didn't reach this far into Union territory. The second half details some ghost stories surrounding the battlefields.
"Perhaps, my good man, perhaps. But you hear what the girl has to say! The child has vanished, surely some manner of sorcery is involved! Or maybe the mafia; since Prohibition's over they've got to expand, haven't they?", Ellis says.
Assess Honesty:
A volume sits on the coffee table, "Battles of the Hudson River Valley". It's a text detailing famous military conflicts in the area- mostly Revolutionary War and War of 1812, since fighting in the Civil War didn't reach this far into Union territory. The second half details some ghost stories surrounding the battlefields.
As we speak I scan the second part of the history book, checking to see if the stories therein are regurgitated legend or something genuine of note.
As soon as Tony finishes collecting any evidence he comes across on the windowsill and floor, he walks outside. Making sure there is no one watching, he walks down the hall, checking each of the other rooms, initially without entering. Tony is suspicious. If the baby was taken from inside, then maybe someone in the house did it.
A volume sits on the coffee table, "Battles of the Hudson River Valley". It's a text detailing famous military conflicts in the area- mostly Revolutionary War and War of 1812, since fighting in the Civil War didn't reach this far into Union territory. The second half details some ghost stories surrounding the battlefields.As we speak I scan the second part of the history book, checking to see if the stories therein are regurgitated legend or something genuine of note.
The historical text itself is credible, though you'd suspect the hauntings portion is mostly folklore.
As soon as Tony finishes collecting any evidence he comes across on the windowsill and floor, he walks outside. Making sure there is no one watching, he walks down the hall, checking each of the other rooms, initially without entering. Tony is suspicious. If the baby was taken from inside, then maybe someone in the house did it.
Quietly walking around the upper floor, you find most of the rooms dusty and disused- guest bedrooms and such. You also find a pair of oak doors that open into a large study full of old books, the drapes still open to permit the moonlight to wash over the room.
Setting the book back upon the table, I place my hand over my mouth as if to stanch a belch. I say to the others, "I'm afraid the long car ride has given my stomach a bit of trouble. Olga, would you mind escorting me to the lavatory?"
Agent Barley will look up from where he was writing notes to say, Sir? Madam? Do either of you have any enemies or anyone that would wish you or your child harm? Most commonly crimes like these are committed by someone known to the victims.
Setting the book back upon the table, I place my hand over my mouth as if to stanch a belch. I say to the others, "I'm afraid the long car ride has given my stomach a bit of trouble. Olga, would you mind escorting me to the lavatory?"
Olga looks confused for a moment before Jacob makes a hand-washing movement with his hands. Then she nods and leads you down a hallway next to the stairway to the water closet.
Agent Barley will look up from where he was writing notes to say, Sir? Madam? Do either of you have any enemies or anyone that would wish you or your child harm? Most commonly crimes like these are committed by someone known to the victims.
"Oh, no. I can't think of any possible malefactors in our circle of friends. I am a man of old money, finance- I've never had to cross swords with a friend in the field of business and we're most select in whom receives our confidence.", Jacob says.
"It is almost inconceivable, Agent.", Mrs. Cornelisz adds.
Olga looks confused for a moment before Jacob makes a hand-washing movement with his hands. Then she nods and leads you down a hallway next to the stairway to the water closet.
Shown the washroom, I turn to maid and say, "Thank you. My dear Olga, a word... Is there something else you wish to say? Here, away from the others? Please, anything you say will be safe with me. What else can you tell me about the poor child? I sense your sorrow."
Olga looks confused for a moment before Jacob makes a hand-washing movement with his hands. Then she nods and leads you down a hallway next to the stairway to the water closet.Shown the washroom, I turn to maid and say, "Thank you. My dear Olga, a word... Is there something else you wish to say? Here, away from the others? Please, anything you say will be safe with me. What else can you tell me about the poor child? I sense your sorrow."
Olga shakes her head, then looks back down the hall.
"I can't to say... not in this house. They are knowing if I am gone too long. It is good Adam is take, they are bad people. Looking under my bed, near kitchen- you see more."The maid hurries back down the hall toward the drawing room.
Tommy breathes a sigh of relief as Agent Barley takes over the questioning, and he starts to wander about the room, looking things over while listening to the conversation.
The maid hurries back down the hall toward the drawing room.
Once alone I wander about, looking for the kitchen and maid's quarters nearby.
There is something foul about this place... 'Bad people' she says. I used words much worse when last investigating the disappearance of a child. Oh Colonel, if you only knew the conspiracies I can imagine.
And what is your business specifically sir?
And what is your business specifically sir?
"I am a man of property, Agent Barley. My family has owned part of Manhattan and Breuckelen back when the city was named New Amsterdam. I oversee those finances, reinvesting the windfall of my ancestors' speculation.", Jacob responds dryly.
"Indeed, and that I'm certain the mafia has to be involved- once the money's dried up from the Speakeasies, those lowlife Wops have to look for new sources of revenue: hence, kidnapping! What you ought to do, Agent Barley, is put a good old fashioned raid together- just like what Ness when he was still after Capone!", Colonel Ellis interjects once more.
Olga returns after showing Professor Blackwell to the lavatory. She freshens your coffee, if you wish.