Miss Dimple Disappears (30 page)

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Authors: Mignon F. Ballard

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Historical, #Cozy, #Amateur Sleuth, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: Miss Dimple Disappears
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“The colonel will take care of that,” Elwin said. “Right now we have to meet a man about an airplane.”

*   *   *

What airplane? What man?
Miss Dimple thought.
Not Henry! It couldn’t be Henry!
She wasn’t hearing this. And what was this about blowing up the plant? They must be referring to the ordnance plant where many of the Elderberry people worked. She thought immediately of Odessa’s husband, Bob Robert, as he sometimes worked the night shift there. If only she could find a way to warn them!

Across from her Willie looked at her with imploring eyes and she wished she could give him an encouraging smile but that was impossible to do with a strip of cloth over her mouth. She could see he was trying not to cry. He was being very brave, Willie was, and she hoped she wouldn’t let him down.

“We’ll have to take her with us,” Elwin said with a nod in her direction.

“But what about them?” Ollie asked, referring to the rest of the group.

“They won’t be going anywhere, but I suppose we’d better take them down to the basement and tie them up again. It won’t do to leave them sitting here in the kitchen,” Elwin said.

Miss Dimple could see that didn’t sit well at all with Ollie Thigpen. He’d had more than enough of those basement stairs, but he fished around in a kitchen drawer for a flashlight and kicked the broken glass and remaining bottles off the steps before untying the others to herd them down.

Ollie paused before releasing Willie. “What’s gonna happen to them?” he asked Elwin under his breath.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about
them,
” Elwin said. “You didn’t seem too concerned about that old man you worked for. Why don’t you tell them what happened to Paschall Kiker?”

Ollie’s hands trembled. “I had nothing to do with that! The old man died in his sleep—heart just wore out, I reckon, and on the day before Thanksgiving, too. Couldn’t just leave him lying up there, could I? What was I to do?”

“Bury him, of course, which is exactly what you did do,” Elwin Vickery said. “Now, hurry and get on with it! We have an appointment to keep.” He made a point of addressing the other three as they stretched and rubbed their wrists. “And if you give us one bit of trouble down there, just remember your precious Miss Dimple here will be at my mercy, and I’m quickly running out of patience—and time.”

*   *   *

They weren’t going to let her live.
Trussed like a holiday bird, Dimple Kilpatrick lay in the backseat of Elwin Vickery’s shiny black Nash-Kelvinator and wondered where they were going. She knew her brother well enough to know he would not be exchanging plans of an airplane or anything else for her safety, so he must have something else in mind, but how did they intend to arrange it?

As if he knew what she was thinking, Ollie asked, “What if this guy doesn’t show up?”

Elwin glanced at her over his shoulder. “He will if he wants his sister back alive.”

“But …” Ollie began, and Miss Dimple could have finished the sentence for him because she was thinking the same thing:
How do we keep them from talking?
There was only one answer. And what was to become of the three back at the farmhouse? Earlier, Jesse Dean had led her to believe he knew something and it had given her hope, but Dimple Kilpatrick needed more than hope: she needed action. A plan formed in her mind.

Struggling, she managed to pull herself up far enough to see out the window, thankful for all those times she had forced herself to do early-morning sit-ups. Although it was black as a coal cellar outside, she recognized a dilapidated church on the other side of town, abandoned when the congregation built a new one farther out. Elwin Vickery seemed to know where he was going, and a few minutes later, when he turned into a rustic stone entrance, Miss Dimple realized his destination—one they would all reach eventually, but she was rather inclined to wait.

Elwin switched off his headlights as the car made its way over the narrow roads of Cemetery Hill.

Ollie peered into the darkness. “What about the colonel?”

“Believe me, he’s not far away,” Elwin told him.

“And Miss Dimple’s brother? Isn’t he supposed to meet us here?”

Elwin spoke brusquely as he pulled to a stop. “He’ll be waiting by that large oak over there behind the Potts family mausoleum. Go and see if he’s there and then bring him here to me,” he instructed Ollie. “And be on the lookout for any chicanery.”

The Potts “Apartments.” Remembering the frivolous name the young people used for the ornate marble monstrosity, Miss Dimple knew exactly where they were, and as she watched Ollie scuttle away to do as he was told, Dimple Kilpatrick was confident that any blueprints her brother brought would not be authentic.

Rolling over onto her stomach she pulled herself up to a kneeling position, grateful that all her walking and healthy eating had allowed her the flexibility to do so. She didn’t like what she saw. Elwin Vickery had taken a gun from underneath his seat and she didn’t think it was meant for Ollie—at least not yet. The gun was intended for Henry … and possibly for her as well.

Twisting, she pressed her feet against the back of the seat behind her and rocked back and forth to gain momentum; then, with one great heave, she thrust herself over the back of the front seat, knocked the gun from Elwin’s hand, and landed headfirst on the automobile’s horn.

*   *   *

“Dear God in heaven, Dimple!” her brother told her later. “That horn sounded loud enough to wake the dead.”

Dimple Kilpatrick smiled as she touched the bump on her forehead. “Then we were certainly in the right place for it, don’t you think?”

When she was able to gather her wits about her, she had seen two men dressed in dark clothing racing toward them from behind a nearby magnolia tree, and while Elwin fumbled for his gun, one of them wrenched open the door on the driver’s side of the Nash and spread-eagled him against the car. Only then, as mist swirled and crept among the grave stones, did Henry Kilpatrick appear from out of the shadows and help his sister to safety.

The mysterious “colonel,” who had obviously masterminded the plot, and who turned out to be the brother of Elwin’s girlfriend, Leila Mae, was apprehended when he tried to escape by driving his car through a narrow gap in the cemetery wall.

In time to come, Miss Dimple would consider that night more exciting than any mystery she’d ever read, but at that point her major concern was for the three people back at Paschall Kiker’s farmhouse.

The police had already been alerted about that, her brother assured her, explaining that someone—he didn’t know who at the time—had escaped unnoticed in time to go for help and he had no doubt it was on its way. It was not until later she learned the identity of Jesse Dean’s fellow rescuers and wasn’t one bit surprised, but extremely proud, to hear they were teachers and colleagues.

“This wasn’t all they had in mind for tonight,” she told Henry and the grim-faced men who accompanied him. “Some of their accomplices meant to plant explosives in the munitions factory in Milledgeville, and several people are working a night shift there. We have to warn them!”

One of the men acknowledged her with an almost-smile. “That’s already been taken care of,” he told her, but refused to say more. On the ride back to town Henry confided that earlier someone had tipped off the police who immediately notified the Office of Strategic Services and they had been watching the place for days. Although no one ever read about it in the newspapers, Miss Dimple and the others involved knew that several armed persons found hiding in the wooded area near the ordnance plant were arrested that same night. Fortunately, they managed to convince Willie that the two bad men intended a mission somewhere far away, and the dedicated workers at the ordnance plant never knew of the danger that might have awaited them.

*   *   *

“I hope you didn’t think I’d abandoned you, but my hands were tied,” Henry told his sister a few days later as they sipped hot toddies in Phoebe Chadwick’s front parlor (strictly for medicinal purposes, Miss Dimple told herself. One can’t be too careful after suffering a sore throat such as hers). She had to confess, she told him, that she was beginning to wonder.

As soon as he was contacted about her being held hostage, Henry told her, he got in touch with the proper authorities. “There wasn’t a lot I could do on my own, and I knew they had the skills and the manpower to handle it. I think they suspected all along that you were being held somewhere in or near Elderberry, but we had to be careful not to leak any information to the public. It would’ve put you in even more danger and sabotage any plan to get you back safely.”

His sister smiled. “But did you really have to let Hazel and her sister believe I’d been committed to a
psychiatric
institution? Really, Henry, I’d think you might come up with a better excuse than that!”

Henry Kilpatrick only shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. It seemed to work well enough, don’t you think?”

Cornelia Emerson of the Office of Strategic Services, the newly formed United States intelligence agency, she learned, had been assigned to find out who was behind her disappearance and the subsequent threats to Henry. Miss Dimple wasn’t told exactly what the enemy was after but she was almost certain it had to have something to do with a project her brother was working on in Marietta, and the Bell Bomber Plant there was among the few facilities in the country where planes were being produced. Henry had always loved fast cars, so she really wasn’t surprised he would dedicate himself to helping to design something to do with acceleration. It wasn’t until years later she found out that her brother was involved in helping to develop the blueprints for the B-29 Superfortress, an extended range bomber that would play an important part in history and a major role in winning the war.

But Elwin threw them off the scent with that farmhouse he bought in the country, and Cornelia had wasted her time keeping an eye on that. He had originally intended to hold Miss Dimple there as prisoner, but the house was unheated and the bathroom facilities, extremely primitive. He abandoned the undertaking when he learned of a vacancy at Phoebe Chadwick’s where he could befriend Henry Kilpatrick’s sister and possibly learn more about his project. Cornelia eventually discovered that several other people who were involved in the plot did meet there from time to time, but then, of course, she had no proof of their activities. According to Henry, the relationship between Elwin and Leila Mae began a year or so earlier when they lived in the same apartment building, and a romance had ensued. “Or at least it did on his part,” he added. “I honestly think Leila Mae Smallwood led Elwin along only to manipulate him into doing what she wanted.”

“But who is this colonel I heard them mention?” Dimple asked. “It sounded as if he might be behind all this.”

“Well, he’s one of them,” her brother told her. “Actually, he’s Leila Mae’s brother—real name’s Peter Smallwood—and I’m sure there are others involved, but now that the colonel’s in custody, I think it will lead to more arrests.”

After hours of questioning and what Henry referred to as debriefing, Dimple Kilpatrick welcomed a day or so of rest and recuperation, but
only
a day or so, before announcing she was ready to return to her usual routine. Odessa insisted on cooking a second Thanksgiving dinner, only on a smaller scale, inviting everyone who had been involved with the heroic rescue at the Kiker farmhouse that November night. Because of her position with the government, Cornelia Emerson had to decline, but Willie’s mother allowed him a brief visit during dessert. Henry put in a special appearance before returning to his mysterious project, and Jesse Dean was welcomed by both Charlie and Annie, and especially by Miss Dimple herself.

“That must’ve been Elwin who kidnapped you that morning,” Phoebe said to Dimple over dinner. “Ollie Thigpen would’ve had a difficult time cramming you into his bicycle basket. I don’t think the man even knows how to drive.”

But Dimple shook her head. “That’s what he wanted everyone to think, but that’s where you’re wrong. He was driving Mr. Kiker’s car … kept it in the barn. I don’t think he ever took it out in the daytime.”

“I wonder if that was why Geneva was attacked in the park,” Annie said. “The two men must have met there—Elwin and Ollie—and whoever hit her was probably afraid she would identify their car. It had to have been parked nearby.”

“Probably Paschall Kiker’s,” Jesse Dean said. “Elwin would have walked. And they mentioned somebody called the colonel, who seemed to be the ringleader behind all this. It was pretty obvious that Ollie was afraid of him. Maybe the colonel—or whatever his name is—was planning to meet there that night, too. It would look suspicious if the three of them were seen together.”

Odessa, helping Miss Dimple to one of her spicy peach pickles, groaned under her breath.
“Elwin Vickery! Huh! I shoulda put rat poison in his oatmeal!”

Henry laughed. “Well, we won’t have to worry about that one anymore … or Ollie, either.”

Miss Dimple sighed. “Elwin Vickery is a cold, despicable criminal, but Ollie … well, Ollie is more to be pitied I believe. He blamed the government and everyone else for what he didn’t have—and believe me, he really was slighted in the brains department! He wanted a better life and Elwin offered him a chance to have it.”

“I wonder how those two got together,” Annie said, shaking her head.

“From what I understand, Ollie Thigpen was helping with the potential renovation of that old place Elwin bought,” Miss Dimple said. “Paschall Kiker couldn’t pay him much, so he did odd jobs like that from time to time.”

Henry nodded. “My guess is the two of them got to talking and Elwin found out that Ollie was bitter enough
and
desperate enough to do almost anything for money.”

“I remember when Ollie’s daddy carried the mail,” Phoebe said. “Had a rural route for a while but he kept mixing up everybody’s mail and some said he even threw a lot of it in the river. Naturally they had to let him go and the family eventually lost their land. I think Ollie held a grudge about that for years.”

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