Main Menu

1

39) THE AZTEC SACRIFICAL DAGGER – c.1860 – Midwest America

by D.B. Anderson

An “Adonis Surrey, Esq. Gentleman Safecracker” Tale

Copyright © 2004 D.B. Anderson All rights reserved

 

     Kansas City was easily reached by a fast down river steamboat trip from St. Joseph on the swift flowing Missouri River.  Adonis and Flurrie attempted to check into the posh Mid-Continent Hotel, but it was filled to capacity with well-heeled members of The Buffalo Hunters Society of New York City.

     As Adonis and Flurrie left the hotel extremely miffed at being turned away, a well-dressed middle-aged man approached them.  “Excuse me, gentlemen.  I am Herbert Lordan, Property Management & Real Estate Sales Agent.  I happened to over hear that you are seeking luxury accommodations.  I am currently renting, with an option to buy, a marvelous Romanesque mansion with a river view.  The mansion has ten rooms, two baths, and is partially furnished.”

     “What is your charge on a weekly basis?” Adonis blandly asked.

     “Five hundred dollars per week, including a horse and carriage and a full time houseman.  He will maintain the property, run errands for you, and he is also the carriage driver.”

     “May we also set up a business office in the mansion?” Adonis queried.  “We are engaged in the sale of railroad stocks and bonds.”

     Mr. Lordan paused in thought.  “Railroad stocks and bonds…  Yes, I would imagine the first floor parlor could readily be converted to an excellent office.  I will have to charge another one hundred dollars per week.”

     “We will pay three hundred dollars per week for the total rental,” Adonis calmly responded.

     Mr. Lordan released a deep sigh in frustration.  “I assume you esteemed gentlemen realize there is a dire room shortage here in Kansas City.  We are positively inundated with adventurers heading west, plus we have a train load of wealthy sportsmen here to hunt buffalo from moving railroad cars.”  He then paused and appeared somewhat fidgety.  “I’ll relent regarding the extra hundred dollars for office space.  Let’s agree to five hundred per week.  Quite frankly, I would rather have gentlemen of your obvious quality leasing the mansion at a lower rental than receive full price from the boisterous so-called sportsmen here from back East for the railroad car buffalo hunts.  I’ve rented to hunting parties in the past and they tend to have a penchant for leaving the property in a shambles.  No respect for another person’s property.”  He then motioned to a carriage mysteriously pulling up alongside them on the rutted dirt road.  “You will find Lefty indispensable.  He knows every nook and cranny of Kansas City.”

     Adonis glanced at Flurrie who nodded his head in agreement to the arrangement. “We will rent for one week, and perhaps renew depending on our railroad stock sales.”

     Mr. Lordan smiled up at Lefty seated on the driver’s bench.  “Load the gentlemen’s luggage and take us to the mansion.”

     “Yes, sir,” Lefty obeyed, slowly maneuvering his skinny, aged body down the side of the carriage.  He smiled at Adonis and Flurrie, exposing several rotting teeth.  “A pleasure to serve you fine gentlemen.”

     “Fine, fine,” Mr. Lordan responded, waiving his right hand.  “Hurry and load the luggage now.”  He shook his head in doubt and smiled at Adonis and Flurrie.  “A bit slow, but anxious to please.”

     “Just what in the world is this Buffalo Hunters Society of New York City?” Flurrie queried.

     Mr. Lordan scowled.  “A disagreeable pack of idle rich.”  He then paused to chew on his cigar.  “A railroad line was recently constructed through Kansas, and they are offering buffalo hunting excursions into the plains for gentlemen sportsmen to see how many buffalo they can bring down while speeding along at twenty miles per hour in the comfort of their rail cars.”

     Flurrie shook his head in amazement as they boarded the carriage.  “What sport is there in that?”   

     As they seated themselves Mr. Lordan offered Adonis and Flurrie a cigar.  While they lit their stogies, Mr. Lordan explained, “In defense of the railroad, they actually have quite a bit of difficulty with the wandering herds of buffalo blocking the railroad tracks, and at times even stampeding the trains.  The herds do require a good trimming in numbers.  The railroad, in their infinite wisdom, wondering just how to quickly deplete the herds and make a dollar or two whilst so doing, decided to advertise in the newspapers and magazines back East for sporting gentlemen to engage in the new and exciting adventure of hunting the wild and brutish buffalo from comfortable railroad cars whilst speeding along at an incredible velocity.”

     “Get goin’, Floozy!” Lefty shouted, shaking the leather reins on the black haired mare’s hindquarters.    

     Adonis grinned, taking a long drag from his cigar.  “Is there an Executive Businessmen’s Club in Kansas City?” he queried.

     Mr. Lordan’s eyes lit with surprise.  “As a matter of fact I am a senior member of the local Businessmen’s Bullshot Society,” Mr. Lordan responded, both puffing and chewing on the end of his cigar in unison.  “I’ll be very pleased to introduce you gentlemen to the Bulls.”

     Adonis and Flurrie exchanged smirks.  “Do your members play golf?” Flurrie questioned.  “Adonis is on the Executive Committee of the Boston Golf Association.”

     Mr. Lordan gaped at Adonis as if he were a messenger from the Gods.  “I am honored!  This is magnificent.  We have discussed golf, but have no one to offer us instruction.  Would you possibly…”

     Adonis nodded in the affirmative.  “I will be pleased to lecture your members regarding the fundamentals of golf; setting up a course, rules and regulations, that sort of thing.”   Adonis then hesitated, glancing to Flurrie.  “Flurrie, what say?  How is our schedule?”

     “A bit tight.  We do have several appointments in queue, and…”

     “Gentlemen,” Mr. Lordan anxiously interrupted, “I will introduce you to the leading citizens of Kansas City.  I’m sure many of them will also be interested in discussing railroad stocks and bonds with you.”

     “Bully!” Adonis exclaimed.  “When is your next meeting?”

      “I’ll meet with our chairman as soon as I return to town.  Would tomorrow be too soon?”

     “Excellent,” Adonis responded.  “I’m pleased to say that I had the foresight to bring my golf bag, bulger clubs, and a goodly supply of guttie balls with me.  I’ll be delighted to give your society members a few hands on lessons.”

     “Bully!  We have been seeking a pleasant diversion for our gathering.”

     Adonis then entered into a mini-lecture on golfing as the carriage moved slowly through the bustling streets of Kansas City, and then along a narrow dirt road on the edge of town.  Lefty steered the carriage through a patch of oak trees to an A-shaped gray-stoned edifice situated on a knoll over-looking the Missouri River.  

     “An A-shaped mansion!” Flurrie almost swooned.  “If it weren’t for the Mansard roof it could easily be a pyramid.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  I must sketch it!”

     “The architecture is quite unusual,” Mr. Lordan agreed.  “The owner was John Ardmann.  He was a noted archeologist and an expert in Aztec and Inca artifacts.  He was suffering from attacks of malaria he had contracted in Southern Mexico and was forced to retire and decided to do so here in Kansas City as this was his wife’s hometown.  She tragically died in a carriage accident just after the mansion was built.  Mr. Ardmann’s health rapidly deteriorated then and he passed away just as the mansion was completed.  Neither he nor his wife ever had the pleasure to spend one night here.  In fact, they had just begun to decorate the rooms.”

    “Heart rendering tale,” Flurrie softly said.

     “Ah, so you are an artist!” Mr. Lordan exclaimed, wishing to quickly change the subject.  “Several members of our Bullshot Society have mentioned thinking of having their portraits painted in oils.  Perhaps you might…”

     “I’d be delighted,” Flurrie interrupted.   

     “Excellent,” Mr. Lordan replied.  “What a fortuitous day this is turning into.”

     “Please give us the grand tour of the mansion,” Adonis said.  “I must admit I am very interested.”

     “Same here!” Flurrie chimed in. 

     Mr. Lordan gave them a quick tour of the mansion, praising its normal interior room designs in spite of the A-shape design of the edifice.  Adonis was impressed, but then insisted on giving Mr. Lordan two hundred and fifty-dollars now, and the remainder money when they completed their rental.  Mr. Lordan at first baulked, but then pocketed the half-rental monies as he handed Adonis the keys to the mansion.  Lefty then struggled into the foyer with their luggage.  He was red-faced and out of breathe.

     “I’ll have Lefty drive me back to town, and then he will promptly return.  He has an apartment in the stable and will not bother you.” 

     “That will be just fine,” Adonis acknowledged, as Mr. Lordan and Lefty quickly departed.

     Adonis and Flurrie entered the library on the first floor.  Most of the shelves were void of books, and the room was decorated with Aztec pottery and artifacts.  They then shifted their attention to the French doors illuminated with the red-orange horizon drifting into the black of night.

     “Well,” Adonis said with a sigh.  “This is rather a peculiar feeling.  We usually break into a mansion at dusk or later, and now we are the lords of a mansion.”

     Flurrie chuckled.  “And an A- shaped structure at that; not unlike an Aztec temple.  Shall we investigate the location of the mandatory library wall safe?”

      “I suppose,” Adonis muttered.  “Work, work, work.”

     “I surmise the safe is obviously behind the landscape painting next to the fireplace,” Flurrie commented.

     “Yes,” Adonis agreed.  “I to noticed smudges on the left hand side of the picture frame caused by a hand gripping the frame to swing the painting to and fro.”  Adonis then reached into his suit coat pocket to retrieve a small ring of private keys.  He playfully held the metal ring into the air and shook the rung until the keys tinkled against one another.  “Shall we?’

     “I imagine it is quite empty,” Flurrie stated as he swung the painting open on its hinges to expose the wall safe, and then stepped aside dutifully pointing at the safe with both hands outstretched,  “Voila, Monsieur.  Parle vous ze safe.”

     “You are too kind, sir,” Adonis politely answered, and then gazed at the safe and his usually calm eyes suddenly rounded into the size of two tea saucers.  “What’s this!  Someone has attempted to pry the safe open!  Observe the multitude of scratches.  This is incredible!”  

     “Obviously someone was desperate to open the door,” Flurrie agreed in amusement.  “Very sloppy work.”

     Adonis quickly tugged on the handle of the safe, but it remained immobile.  He then selected a key from his private ring, slipped it into the keyhole, gave it a twist, and pulled the door open.  He reached inside and smiled broadly.  He retrieved what turned out to be an old wooden cigar box tied closed with a length of store string, and a separate bundle of something wrapped in tan buckskin.  He handed the cigar box to Flurrie and then placed the piece of buckskin onto the palm of his left hand, undid the wrapping, and exposed a roughly hewn shimmering gold knife about nine inches long.  “Excellent!” he exclaimed. 

     Flurrie anxiously gazed down at the dagger.  “Obviously an artifact.”

     “Look here,” Adonis said, running the fingertips of his right hand over the dagger’s handle, “notice the handle is engraved on both sides with several figures walking behind one another in some sort of ceremony, and joy-of-joys there is a large emerald on either side.  The knife blade appears to be almost crudely hand-forged into shape.”  Adonis then handed the weapon and piece of buckskin to Flurrie.  “See what you can make of it.  You are the art expert.”

     Flurrie lit a kerosene lamp on the desk next to the fireplace and carefully studied the images on both sides of the knife.  “I think it is a sacrificial ceremonial dagger.  Notice the slab table with a figure reclining, made to be the separation of the blade from the handle.”

     Adonis then took the old cigar box from Flurrie.  “Let’s see what this is all about.”  He smiled as he read the logo on the box lid.  “Cuban Royalists!  My absolute favorite.  Well, at least we know the deceased archeologist was a person with taste.”  Adonis then broke the string around the box and quickly lifted its lid.  He stood awash in astonishment.  

     Flurrie also gazed into the box.  “My God, there must be a hundred gems in side, and six wads of cash, and some aged papers.”

     Adonis picked up a handful of the gems and carefully scrutinized them.  “Unfortunately they are semiprecious stones,” he grumbled.  “Not our style.”   He picked through the stones.  “Turquoise, jade, opal, and I believe these black stones are obsidian from a volcano,” Adonis said, placing them back in the cigar box.

     “But what about the money, and the aged documents and the gold dagger?”

     “No,” Adonis said, rewrapping the dagger in its buckskin shroud.  He then placed the materials back into the wall safe and locked it.  “This is not for us.  We have no fight with the late archeologist.”

     They then heard the carriage pull into the driveway.  “It must be Lefty,” Flurrie whispered.  “Are you sure about the papers?  They might reveal some historical secrets!” 

     “Secrets?  About what?” Adonis calmly asked.

     Flurrie stared up into Adonis stern expression.  “I don’t know.”

     “Flurrie, we are not common thieves, and we will never become common thieves,” Adonis sternly spoke as he swung the painting back over the wall safe. 

     Lefty then suddenly entered the library.  “Here you gents are.  I will be retiring now.”

     “Wait!” Adonis ordered.  “Why not have a drink with us.  We can become acquainted.”

     “I’ve been warned not to drink on the job.”

     “But you are working for us,” Adonis said, smiling broadly.  “Bring my overnight bag in here.  I have a bottle of very rare brandy we might share.”

     “Yes, sir!  My pleasure!” Lefty exclaimed, spinning around and moving down the hallway in a double trot to their luggage.

     “What is this all about?” Flurrie asked, with a broad grin.  

     “Let’s see what information we might extract from him.”

     Lefty burst into the library carrying the over night bag and handed it to Adonis.  “Let’s sit around the desk and hoist a few,” Adonis suggested, and then added, “Lefty, bring a chair over for yourself.”

     Lefty smiled, exposing his rotting teeth, “Yes, sir, Mr. Surrey.”  He then dragged a huge wing back chair next to the desk.

     Adonis retrieved a small rosewood coffin shaped box from his overnight bag.  “You may not survive after a few drinks of this, Lefty.
     Lefty laughed.  “I’ll die with a smile!”

     Adonis removed two silver miniature goblets and a silver plated bottle from the coffin.  He unscrewed the silver top of the bottle and turned it upside down turning it into a shot glass.  “Tell us about Mr. Lordan.  He appears to be a very successful real estate operator.”  Adonis then poured the golden elixir in each of their containers, making double sure to fill Lefty’s goblet to near overflowing.

     They lifted their drinks in unison, shouting “Cheers!”

     Lefty finished his brandy off in two huge gulps.  “Mr. Lordan arrived in town about three years ago.  He bought a lot of property real fast, like little food stores, bakeries and two hardware stores.  The big rush to the West was just about to start up then.  He also built half-dozen rooming houses that he called hotels.  The locals at first thought he was crazy, but when the prospectors and settlers started to swarm through Kansas City they changed their minds about him in a hurry.”

     “They all needed a place to sleep, and food, and provisions,” Adonis interceded, nodding his head.  “He is a speculator.”

     “He must be quite wealthy,” Flurrie chimed in.

     Adonis glanced at Lefty who was anxiously licking his lips while staring at the silver encased brandy bottle. Adonis then refilled Lefty’s goblet to the brim.  “Tell us more.”

     “He did real good in the beginning.  He was well liked.  But as the strangers began to swarm through town, looking for room and board, Mr. Lordan became real mean and began to evict the regular renters, making up lies about them so he could rent to the newcomers at two or three times the rent he got from the regular people.  Folks who thought he was a fine gentleman soon hated him.”  Lefty finished off his goblet of brandy.  “Some people wanted to lynch him, but he had the law on his side and nothing could be done.  I started working for him when he first arrived in town.”  Lefty belched, and then wiped his mouth with his coat sleeve.  “When he evicted people he bought their furniture, valuables, and supplies at a penny on the dollar and resold it all at high prices to the new settlers passing through town.”  Lefty lowered his head.  “I’m ashamed to say I helped him.  We had a freight wagon and I used to load it up with the furniture of people being evicted.  I didn’t want to do it, but the money was good.”  Lefty paused to reminisce.  “I do have to admit he paid me fairly, but of course the people started to hate me for working for him, but I don’t care.  I’m just a bum.”

     Adonis arose.  “Time to retire, Lefty.  We will see you in the morning.”  Adonis recapped the silver brandy bottle.  “Why don’t you sleep in late?  We won’t need you until ten in the morning.  Have the carriage ready for us and we will meet you in the porte-cochere.  You can take us on a tour of the local mansion row of Kansas City.”

     Lefty arose, staggered a bit, waived his hand, and left the room. 

     “Well, that tells us quite a bit about Mr. Lordan,” Adonis said gazing at Flurrie.

     Flurrie nodded.  “Quite so, and he sounds like the type of person who would try to pry his way into a wall safe.”

     Yes,” Adonis mused, rubbing his chin while in deep calculation.  “What say we rob his safe?” Adonis asked, with a lecherous grin.

     Flurrie chuckled.  “Never a dull moment around you, Mr. Surrey!”

     Adonis then spoke as if he hadn’t heard Flurrie’s compliment, “I believe I’ll take a stroll into town to become acquainted.”

     “Blonde, brunette, or redhead?”

     Adonis grabbed his silver wolf head walking cane and swung it through the air as if he were warding off an evildoer.  “Ta, ta, for now.”

     Adonis and Flurrie met Lefty the next morning, who was all groomed and waiting for them with his horse and carriage. 

     “Good morning, gentlemen.”

     They returned his greeting as they climbed into the carriage. 

     ”Lefty, where does Mr. Lordan reside?” Adonis enquired.

     “Why he lives directly at the Mid-Continent Hotel in a special apartment on the roof.  He also is part owner of the hotel, you know.  He’s in partnership with Mr. John Hanson who owns the shot tower at the south end of town and also sells lead pipe and building materials.  Mr. Hanson made a bundle of money during the war.  He sold tons of lead shot to both the Yanks and Rebs.”

     Adonis nodded, then pausing in thought.  “Lefty, after you give us a tour of mansion row, transport us to the Mid-Continent Hotel.  We will pay Mr. Lordan a visit and see if he wishes to play a game of golf.”  Adonis then added, “What type of man is this Hanson?”

     Lefty shook his head negatively.  “Cut from the same buffalo hide as Mr. Lordan.  He actually owns several of the properties Mr. Lordan manages.”

     “Very good,” Adonis said, then slipping Lefty a twenty-dollar bill.  “Here’s something a little extra.  Don’t tell your boss.”  Lefty gazed down in disbelief at the twenty dollar bill in the palm of his right hand as he guided his horse with the reigns in his left hand.  “Ask me any questions, sir.  I know every rat and rat hole in town.”

     “Simply be good enough to drive us through mansion row and enlighten us of just who lives in each house, including the owner, his wife, children and servants.  Tell us everything you know about each of them.  We may want to sell them some railroad stocks and bonds.”

     “I know good and bad about all of them.  We carriage drivers trade stories on all of the fine gentlemen and their families.”

     About an hour later Lefty pulled his carriage up in front of the Mid-Continent Hotel.  Adonis ordered Lefty to wait for them, and as he and Flurrie entered the hotel lobby the desk clerk gazed at them in near shock.

     “Gentlemen!  Mr. Lordan has been searching for you!  He is waiting for you in his penthouse office.  Go right up the stairway to the third floor.  It is most urgent!”

     Adonis and Flurrie grinned to one another and began to ploddingly ascend the grand staircase. 

     “Please, Gentlemen,” the desk clerk pleaded.  “He is quite agitated.  I don’t wish to be fired!”

     They then chuckled and moved a bit faster on the steps.  Reaching the third floor they found themselves in what appeared to be a ballroom redecorated into a massive office filled with antiques, paintings, a suit of armor, assorted statuary, and Herbert Lordan sitting at a massive and ornately decorated mahogany desk.  He wore a Turkish fez atop his pate and was wrapped in an ankle length silk smoking robe.  Upon seeing Adonis and Flurrie he arouse, smiling broadly. 

     “I have been trying to contact you.  I have an appointment set up for us with the Bullshot Club.  The lads will be waiting for us at one in the park behind the court house for golf lessons.”  He then paused with a slight expression of panic.  “You haven’t forgotten your offer to lecture our society regarding golf?”

     Adonis smiled broadly.  “Certainly not!  Flurrie and I were touring your wonderful city.”

     “Excellent!” Mr. Lordan exclaimed, removing his massive smoking robe and then quickly slipping into his suit jacket.   “We have about twenty minutes before our meeting.”  Mr. Lordan almost giggled.  “This will be splendid.”

     “I do have to pick up my golf bag with the bulger clubs and guttie balls,” Adonis instructed Lordan.  “Lefty is stationed out front with his carriage.”

     Lordan beamed with delight.  “Good show!  Let’s off!”

     The three adults bolted down the stairway as three young lads scurrying to participate in a pick-up cricket match.  Lefty sped them to the A-frame mansion for the golf bag and then back into town for their sports meeting in the park behind the courthouse.  Along the way Adonis educated Mr.Lordan in the gentlemanly sport of golf as Flurrie rode the entire distance with a silly grin on his lips.

     Four well dressed middle-aged to elderly men were waiting for them at two wooden picnic tables in the Court House Park, which abutted the Missouri River.  There were also about a dozen people strolling in the park enjoying the warm August high sun. 

     Lordan quickly introduced everyone around and Adonis began his golf lecture with the verbal elegance of a Shakespearian actor, whilst skillfully swinging and swaying a bulger club through the air.

     Timmy Smith, the leading flourmill owner of the area, coolly reconnoitered, “You mean to say we bat the ball from the ground and into the air and it must land into a small hole a thousand feet from us.  Damn near impossible I say!”

     Horst Bukwalde chided, “I think they should make the hole larger and the ball smaller.”

     Guido Marchesee, proprietor of the two largest mercantile stores in the city commented, “This game was played in Ancient Rome.”

     John Hanson the shot tower owner added, “It’s a child’s game as compared to the skills required for cricket.”

     Herbert Lordan than proudly spoke up, “My friend Adonis Surrey is on the executive staff of the Boston Golfing Association Rules Committee.”

     The Bullshots then remained silent as they intently watched Adonis and Flurrie set up their golf field.  Adonis retrieved a silver-plated garden scoop from his golf bag and then knelt down to dig a hole in the grass covered soil.  Flurrie removed a six-inch ruler from the golf bag and a ball of silver colored string.  He measured the depth and circumference of the hole Adonis had engineered.  He nodded approvingly.  Adonis then retrieved the ball of silver string from Flurrie and held the small globe into the air for all to see.        

     “Gentlemen, this orb contains exactly one thousand feet of specially wound non-stretching silver strands manufactured under license from the Boston Golfing Association Rule Committee.  When fully stretched it indicates the exact length of one hole to the next hole.  He then held onto a ring at the end of the string and handed Flurrie the string.  Flurrie began walking due south unwinding the string behind him.  When the string found its end Flurrie placed a stake into the ground, and while holding the end of the string moved in a semi--circle one thousand feet and marked the next hole with a stake, and then followed suit to mark the third and final hole.   Adonis then followed up by carefully digging the two holes to the correct width and depth.

     The next approximate one hour and a half was spent with guttie balls spiraling in all directions imaginable.  As usual; Adonis was the instructor and Flurrie was the shagger of the balls.  Quite quickly a small crowd gathered in the park behind the courthouse, and a merry time was had by all.  Adonis and Flurrie were swiftly catapulted to a celebrity status in town, and for the next week were invited to the various members of the Bullshots mansions for a mid-day luncheon at the least, or to a formal evening dinner in the evening.  Of course spectators and the Bullshots themselves at the golf outing were duly notified that Adonis and Flurrie were railroad stock and bond salesmen and might be reached for private investment consultation in their rented quarters at the A-shaped mansion of John Ardmann, the deceased explorer and Aztec and Inca Indian archeologist.  And they also announced that Flurrie was a well-known artist of some repute and would be available and very pleased to sketch and paint the local cognoscente, their mansions, and pets as desired.   

     Whilst at the soirees Adonis and Flurrie registered copious notes in their mental files regarding room layouts, emergency ingress and egress if needed, and likely  paintings or wall mirrors that might be masking a sequestered wall safe.     

     As usual, in the few days since their arrival in town, they had several prospects queued for possible purloining.   They compared the mental notes they had registered at their free meal invitations with the copious notes they had written from Lefty’s guided tour of mansion row.  They narrowed their choices of the two most scurrilous businessmen down to; Herbert Lordan, their totally decadent landlord, and secondly John Hanson the shot tower owner who sold the deadly pellets to both the Northern and Southern armies to tragically deplete their ranks.

     “Whilst we were playing golf,” Adonis instructed Flurrie, “I asked Lordan if there were any social events of note coming up in the next few days and he mentioned a traveling symphony string ensemble would be presenting a concert tomorrow night and the Bullshots and their families would be attending, and he invited us.  I reluctantly declined stating we were knee-deep in paper work and simply had to get caught up with it all.  He smiled and acknowledged he often found himself inundated with record keeping.”  Adonis paused, “What say we engage in a double-purloinment tomorrow night?”              

     “A double heist.  It will be our first.“  Flurrie paused in contemplation.  “Perhaps we are taking on too much in too short of a time.”

     “No.  I have to upset Lordan’s world.  I want him to suffer for all of the anguish he has caused amongst his clients by robbing them and leaving them abandoned in the streets with little or no capital or belongings.  Herbert Lordan direly requires having his books balanced.  He has robbed and overturned the lives of many good people for way too long a time.  Reciprocity is required.”   Adonis then paused rubbing the silver wolf headed handle of his cane under his chin.  “This Hanson chap also sounds ready for retribution.” 

     “But we can’t take Lefty into our confidence as we did with the other carriage drivers in our past adventures.”

     “I’ll just tell him to take the night off and I’ll rent us a pair of stallions to use for transportation,” Adonis reasoned, shinning the silver wolf’s head handle on his cane.  “I’m sure he’ll go for that.”  Adonis then gazed intently at Flurrie.  “I don’t know about you, old friend, but I must admit I am anxious to get into the fray.”

     “Likewise,” Flurrie agreed.  “My art work has even suffered.  I don’t seem to have that sense of emergency about me anymore.” 

     “I often wondered how people could live constant complacent lives.”  Adonis then playfully shuddered his body.  “A terrible way to linger about.”

     “Actually I was perfectly complacent and satisfied on my father’s farm in Ontario,” Flurrie dryly commented.  “It was actually quite pleasant.”

     “And yet you came to Milwaukee, in a foreign country, to seek employment!” Adonis challenged.  “Am I to assume the services of a bookkeeper are not required in Canada?”

     Flurrie waived both of his hands in frustration.  “Alright!  I guess I was tiring of the bovine ilk on my dad’s farm, and I needed a complete change.”  

     Adonis broke into a huge smile.  “We all need a change of scene from time to time,” he announced circling his silver wolf headed cane in the air, paring and thrusting with his ever-present imaginary foe. 

     The next day Flurrie busied himself by sketching pastoral scenery along the Missouri River quite near their rented A-frame mansion.  It was an attempt to relax before his busy night’s work of the double heist.  The sun was very warm, the bugs somewhat pesky, but he was personally left alone to enjoy Mother Nature in one of her more serene moods.  Adonis whereabouts were unknown and that was just fine as far as Flurrie was concerned as he lay back on the wild grass near the river’s edge and imagined himself back on his parent’s farm in Ontario. 

     It was seven in the evening when Adonis finally appeared at the mansion riding a magnificent black stallion and holding the reins of a perky brown mare following in the rear.  Flurrie was watching for him through the parlor window and dashed out to greet him.

     “Beautiful animals!” Flurried exclaimed, petting both steeds. 

     “Well, let’s proceed.  To tarry is to worry.  Jump on and let the Devil take the hind most.”

     “Whoa, Mr. Surrey!  Slow it down,” Flurrie ordered raising his hands.  “First, Lefty is no where to be found.  Aren’t you afraid he’ll see us on horseback?”

     “I gave Lefty the day and night off.  He is probably well into his second quart by now in some saloon in town.”

     Flurrie grabbed hold of the saddle horn and swung himself up on the saddle of the brown mare in one athletic swoop.

     “Well, done!” Adonis exclaimed, tipping his bowler.   

      Flurrie tipped his straw hat in return as they galloped off westward into the swiftly sinking orange sun.

     On their way to the Hanson mansion it was inevitable they add a few horse races along the way, which were pretty much ties, no winners or losers, just friends having fun.

     It was dark when they reached the Hanson three-story chalet-designed edifice.  The windows were dark. 

     “Excellent,” Adonis said with deep pleasure.  “There is nothing as beautiful as a darkened mansion.”

     “Any clue as to what treasure might be within?”

     “None what so ever, however, Hanson is a very wealthy man.  Let’s tie the horses under the elm in the side yard. It’s quite dark with a lot of shadows to cover our skulking about.”

     Within five minutes Adonis had jimmied the French doors on the left side of the house and they were entering the library on the first floor.  They moved to a small oil painting of a shot tower and removed it from the wall.  They had reasoned that to be the most likely hiding place for a wall safe from their previous dinner engagement in the house.  A wall safe did greet them.  Adonis investigated the keyhole of the safe door, removed a small ring of keys from his suit coat pocket, selected just the right key, placed it into the waiting keyhole and a “click” sounded.  Adonis anxiously swung the door open and reached into the black abyss.  He removed a small leather clutch bag.

     Suddenly they heard the front door open and someone running in and up the front stairway.  A young lady’s voice spoke from the hallway.  “Hurry!  How in the world could you forget your Parisian perfume on a night like this!  The concert will be positively swarming with young gentlemen!”

     “I know, I know!” was the response of the other young lady as she scrambled back down the stairs and the front door of the mansion slammed shut with a Thud!

     Adonis gazed at Flurrie and smiled nervously.  Flurrie removed his handkerchief from his suit coat breast pocket and mopped his suddenly wet brow.  They then moved to the window and watched the young ladies carriage pull away.  Adonis then anxiously opened the small leather clutch bag he had removed from the wall safe.  Three large diamonds greeted them.  “Voiles, my friend.”  He then reached into the safe again and removed an object, which turned out to be a golden dagger.  An identical dagger to the Aztec dagger in their rented mansion safe.  “What the hell,” Adonis almost said too loudly.  He quickly returned the dagger to the safe, locked its door, and then motioned to Flurrie.  “Let’s rush from here.”

     As they mounted their horses hidden under the cover of the huge elm tree in the side yard, Flurrie asked.  “Now the Lordan office penthouse heist?  Do we have to?”

     “It is mandatory,” Adonis coolly replied as he tapped his stallion on the hind side.

     Flurrie followed him down the dirt road on his mare.  “How will we get up to his penthouse office?  We certainly cannot just walk into the hotel, stroll through the lobby, surmount the grand staircase, and then the remaining two flights to his office, without being seem.  There is the night desk clerk, guests in the lobby…”

     “We simply move up the back fire escape stairway to his office.”

     “But that stairway is on the outside of the building.  We could be spotted by someone.”

     “It is dark behind the hotel building.  We’ll move quietly, and if discovered by someone we can act as intoxicated gentlemen not knowing where we are.”

     They quickly found themselves on the main avenue of Kansas City.  It was ablaze with gas lit streetlights and a multitude of lighted establishments; saloons, the theater, two restaurants, and a church.  The rutted dirt road was positively teaming with residents and a multitude of stouthearted strangers readying themselves to travel westward to find fame, fortune, infamy, and more than likely failure.

     Adonis and Flurrie guided their horses to the rear of the Mid-continent Hotel and were shocked to find a lighted park area about a block away bordering the Missouri River.  Some sort of party was going on there.  They cautiously tethered their reins to a hitching post.

     “Do you think they will see us?” Flurrie whispered.

     “No.  They appear quite intoxicated and having a good time.  Let’s just be very open about walking up the three flights of stairs.  Again, if need be, let’s act intoxicated.  They probably won’t even see us, but if they do they will think we are stumbling up the fire stairs to our hotel rooms.”

     Within five minutes they were standing before the penthouse outside steel door exit, which bore the sign: PRIVATE QUARTERS – DO NOT ENTER – DOOR LOCKED FROM WITHIN

     “Well, that is that!” Flurrie exclaimed.  “Locked from within.”

     “Not quite yet,” Adonis reassured Flurrie.  He unscrewed the silver wolf’s head handle from his cane and lifted up the handle to reveal a silver stiletto blade.  “When we visited him in the penthouse I noticed this door, and I also noted it was secured with a door latch.”  Adonis slid his stiletto into the crack of the door, carefully moved it upward, and then used the stiletto blade as a pry bar to flip the latch upwards on the inside of the door.  “Nothing to it, old chum.”

     They peeked into the gigantic room, which had been a ballroom at one time and found it lit only by moonlight emitting from two sets of French doors.

     “Where do we start?” Flurrie asked.  “There is so much statuary and brick-a-brac, and about twenty paintings on the walls.  I guess we will have to look under each one for a wall safe.”

     “No,” Adonis confidently responded.  “When we had our meeting with him here I noticed the door by the entrance way.  It was probably a coat closet.  Let’s start there.”

     “Why?” Flurrie queried, following Adonis in total confusion.

     “It would make an excellent walk-in wall safe.”  Adonis quickly turned the doorknob, but the door was locked shut.  He investigated the door’s keyhole.  “My keys are to short for this lock.”  He paused in thought, glancing about the doors construction.  “Look at this.  The door hinges are on the outside.”

     “Well it is a coat closet,” Flurrie mused.

     “No, I can smell treasure coming from within.”  Adonis placed the silver wolf head handle of his cane under the top hinge spindle and it popped up.  He slid it up and out.  He then did the same to the bottom hinge and managed to pry the door open from its back end and yank it from its lock.  “There, nothing to it, old friend.  Fetch us an oil lamp.”  As Flurrie obeyed, Adonis removed several cigar boxes and a few larger boxes from the shelf of the closet and placed them on a table next to the closet door.  Flurrie lit the oil lamp and Adonis lifted the lids on the two cigar revealing at least a hundred pieces of jewelry and rings in each box.

     “Incredible!” Flurrie exclaimed.  “Let’s grab them and run!”

     “No, these are items he probably took from poor travelers in exchange for food and supplies on their journeys west.  These appear to be wedding engagement rings and other family heirlooms not worth that much in money, but probably had great sentimental value.”

     “What an insensitive hateful lout!” Flurrie exclaimed.

     Adonis then returned to the closet and released a deep, satisfied sigh.  “Here we are, Flurrie.  Our illusive safe is on the lower shelf.”

     Flurrie poked his head into the closet.  “Excellent!”

     Adonis removed his small ring of safe keys from his jacket pocket, investigated the keyhole in the safe’s door, selected a key, slid it into the keyhole and a friendly “click” sounded.  Adonis then quickly swung the door open and reached inside to retrieve two small velvet clutch bags, which he swiftly sequestered in his coat pocket. 

     “Flurrie, hold the lamp up so that I might see what else is inside here.”

     Flurrie obeyed and they gazed in at several stacks of cash, securities, and a small black notebook.  Adonis slid the cash into his pockets, and then opened the notebook to find a list of names and addresses from throughout the Kansas-Missouri region.  He replaced the notebook and then exclaimed “Look here!”  He removed another copy of the gold Aztec dagger from the lower shelf of the safe.  He swiftly replaced it in the safe, and locked the safe door.  “Let’s rush from here.”

     “What about the door?  Aren’t you going to slide it back into place?”

     “Why bother?”

     They swiftly and silently made their way out to the back fire escape stairway.  The party was still going on about a block away near the river.  Luckily the moonlight had shifted and the steps were now quite dark.

     Within a few minutes they were again on horseback and trotted their steeds along the edge of town.  They remained silent as they rode back to their rented A-frame mansion.  They tethered the horses out front and made their way into the parlor where they had set up their temporary stock and bond agency office.

     Adonis removed a bottle of brandy and two snifters from a side table and they sat quietly at the table enjoying the warming elixir as it slid into their parched throats.  Adonis then retrieved the leather clutch bag from the Hanson heist, and the two black velvet bags from the Lordan heist, and placed them on the table before them.  He then emptied his pockets of the wads of cash from Lordan’s closet safe.  He took time for a sip of brandy and then methodically spread aside the leather sides of the Hanson bag to reveal the trio of medium sized diamonds.

     “My friend,” he spoke.  “We have at least a hundred and fifty thousand dollars worth of diamonds before us.  And let’s not forget our commission is twenty percent from the kind people who handle our purloined merchandise.  Also, we have these odds and ends of cash.  I’ll give you the honor of splitting that evenly between us as your time permits.”

     Flurrie nervously gulped on his brandy.   “Will you please open the two bags from the Lordan safe before I have a complete nervous breakdown?”

     Adonis chuckled.  “Now this is the great unknown.  There could be near worthless stones inside or…”

     Flurrie impatiently reached down and untied one bag lifted it upside down and let pour about a dozen mixed gems.

     Adonis spread through them with his fingertips.  “Not bad.  “Maybe twenty thousand for the lot.”  Adonis then took the other bag in his hand.  “It is heavy.”  He opened it to reveal a diamond and ruby golden broach with a royal family crest emblazoned in the center.   “Looks oriental.  Hard to guess a value, but I imagine it is considerable.” 

     “Perhaps we should engage in more double heists,” Flurrie greedily commented as he licked his lips.

     Adonis nodded in agreement and then raised his left hand to his chin in deep contemplation.  “What do you make of the golden Aztec daggers showing up in the safes of this general area?”

     Flurrie shrugged his shoulders.  “I’m not quite sure.”

     Adonis usually smooth brow now furrowed.  “It is worrisome.  I think we should move with a bit more caution whilst in this part of the country.  One wonders if some sort of secret society has been set up by the area elite with the Aztec golden daggers as their emblem, and one further wonders if it has been initiated for the better, or the worse.”

    Download Permission:  You may create electronic files, or print copies of the above short story for your personal use.  You may not use the short story in a ‘for sale’ venue.  Copyright date and origination information, including author’s name, must accompany all downloads.

 

‘Dust Webs’ Mystery Magazinewww.apex-ephemera.com

Email: mysteryshortstories@yahoo.com

Address to: Editor