Two Tocks before Midnight (The Agora Mystery Series Book 1) Read online

  I became acquainted with Charles through the bank of my employment. And from that acquaintance, I was introduced to the Agora Society, his brother Joseph, and most importantly his daughter Carolyn.

  I soon discovered Joseph’s lust for money. Charles’s brother was stupid and a petty thief, but I must admit, the forgeries were his idea. Upon seeing the blank parchments that Charles had acquired during one of his travels, Joseph asked of their value and from there the idea of the Book of Jasher forgeries was born.

  We began work on our scheme a full year before the events of that horrid October. To keep our secret intact, Charles and I rarely spoke to each other at the Agora and never spoke of our families or social activities.

  Emotional attachments are so often the downfall of great enterprises and so it was with ours.

  I asked Charles for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Carolyn and I had already pledged our love and needed only her father’s permission.

  But it was not to be.

  He was furious and resolute against the idea of giving his daughter to a criminal as he called me. He would have broken off all contact with me had we not had the shared guilt of the forgeries together.

  A few months later, Carolyn and I secretly eloped and moved across town. I still kept residence at my old place to receive visitors and of course to meet with Charles and Joseph, but at night, I flew to Carolyn. Her father, who did not know her whereabouts, was distraught.

  We planned to move to a new town and leave it all behind, eventually sending Charles a letter explaining our marriage. I even gave notice to the bank. During that time, we were careful not to expose our location to anyone who knew her father. I double-backed and made false turns to thwart onlookers from learning of our location. Carolyn even wore heavy scarves around her head as disguise.

  But Joseph found us.

  He threatened to tell Charles of our marriage and to tell Carolyn about our nefarious activities—the facts of which she was never made privy.

  Charles of course was in despair. He had no idea what had become of Carolyn and assumed the worst. He contacted the police and posted bulletins describing her appearance. Charles then quit the Agora Society and plunged completely into what he was best at: creating the forgeries. And so, the three of us, encouraged by Charles’ determination, redoubled our efforts.

  Again, it was Joseph’s idea to approach the Agora Society in hopes the experts there would certify the authenticity of the parchment. Such an endorsement would surely have enabled us to fetch ten times the amount we were seeking.

  The Book of Jasher became Charles’ sole reason for living. If you remember that night he appeared with the parchment, his nervousness prevented him from going back to hear your conclusion.

  As you so keenly surmised, I instructed them according to the points you made clear and, together, the three of us created and sold corrected parchments for a tidy profit.

  If it were not for your insistence, our little endeavor would have succeeded without harm. But after reading your advertisement, Charles felt we could not continue. While strong in intellectual matters, he was exceedingly weak in will.

  One day, standing before Joseph and me, he declared his intent to confess the whole matter. Clearly, this was not acceptable to Joseph or myself. To have such a blight against my name was unthinkable. For Joseph, the reasons were purely financial.

  We tried to stop Charles, but he was most insistent.

  It was Joseph’s idea to kill his relative and to have the body discovered at the Agora Society. I argued against it, but Joseph again threatened to reveal our activities to Carolyn if I didn’t go along. I relented after devising a way to rid myself of both Tocks so Carolyn and I could begin our marriage properly. It required both Joseph’s strength and… his death.

  It turned out the Agora for the location was a good idea—and would have worked, I am sure, had you not been there. Joseph would be a natural suspect among any of you. Hence, the decision to stage the hanging at the Agora was perfect. When Joseph, the perceived murderer, died attempting to murder me, no one with any knowledge of our activities would remain alive. And with me being among the victims, no one would suspect me of the crime.

  At least, that was my plan.

  But back to that night.

  The fool Charles had fled to the Agora Society no doubt with a mind to confess to you all that evening. For us, to find him outside the doors waiting for you to open it, was fortuitous.

  Of course, I had made a copy of the key from when I was on key duty and had easy access to the room. From there, with big Joseph’s help, it was an easy matter to subdue and hang Charles.

  You may wonder about Joseph. He was indeed Charles’ half-brother, but with Charles threatening to end the easy income, jealousy overruled reason. Charles was the favored child—for his well-formed brain and the fact that Joseph was born a bastard. Joseph hated his brother with passion and only tolerated him thus far for his money-making potential. With that gone, Joseph preferred to see Charles dead. Dead men can name no names.

  Regarding this, I was in happy agreement with Joseph, but Joseph likewise, had too much knowledge of our enterprise. More importantly, there was the matter of blackmail.

  While Joseph did much of the work as I commanded, he did not know the end of my plot. He asked why the candles. I softly replied, “You’ll see.” But now I realize I had lied. He never would see.

  You may wonder why I have not sought revenge against you. After all, you are responsible for me losing a great deal of money. I should also mention the fact that you are responsible for the deaths of three persons.

  In truth, I had intended to seek revenge, slowly. I wanted the “Tick Tock” letters to strike fear into you before I pounced. I planned an elaborate setup far more advanced than that of October 24th, 1859. But as time passed, my passion ebbed, my business increased, and most importantly, Carolyn and I had a child. Eventually, I lost all zeal in the matter. I did continue the yearly cards out of tradition and nostalgia, however. I do hope you enjoyed my efforts.

  You may further wonder why I write this. I shall never post this letter while alive, but in lieu of a confession, this enables me to offer you—should you outlive me—a more complete account of that evening.

  Your Obedient Servant,

  TP

  * * *

  Having no hand or knowledge in the affairs of her father, I felt it best to let Lottie Phillips live her life without knowing her father’s darker side. I told her nothing of the contents of the letter, but spent the time, instead, telling her stories of her father before that dreadful night, before he murdered her grandfather and uncle.

  After she left, I realized Thomas had given his daughter a name cognate with “Charles” as well as my name, “Carl.” Lottie is a pet form of Charlotte, which is also related to churl. I spent that night in thought. Was the name given out of respect or guilt? Perhaps some attempt at penitence? Or was it simple coincidence?

  So there, the matter is resolved, and the world has the full story. Having only learned much of it recently myself, I feel somewhat relieved, completed.

  Ironically, although Thomas had intended to tear the Agora Society apart, his actions had quite the opposite effect. We gained some measure of fame due to the incident, and many of our members went on to great worldly success.

  The redoubtable Captain Barnwell often visited as a welcomed guest. He would present particularly troublesome cases for the club to consider, and, as a group, our members became closer than family.

  With respect to our society, Thomas failed completely. But regarding his motivation behind it all, Carolyn, he most definitely succeeded.

  Love can lead some men to greatness, others to their downfall. They say love triumphs over evil, but for Thomas, it only amplified the darkness that lay within him. Lies. Jealousy. Death. This was the legacy of Thomas and his "Two Tocks Before Midnight," the first great case of the Agora Society.

  Continue Reading

&nbs
p; Did you enjoy Two Tocks? Do you like reading of murder, mayhem, and the gentleman detective?

  If so, look for The Agora Letters Volume 1 includes five full-length stories for one low price.

  In the style of Arthur Conan Doyle, Clay Boutwell brings back the Agora Society and its premiere scholar, Carl Brooke.

  A string of thefts ends in a grisly murder. Certain evidence leads Captain Barnwell to suspect a former thief, Rutherford Nordlinger as the culprit. Carl Brooke becomes personally involved as Nordlinger’s guilt is questioned.

  “My hands instinctively gripped my knees and I bowed my head down to the carriage floor. It was pure shock, those words.”

  Buy The Agora Letters Volume 1 which includes five stories (including The Penitent Thief, The Peace Party Massacre, The Curse of the Mad Sheik, and The Captain’s Play) for the price of three.

  The Handkerchief, a Short Story

  My wife was to come in on the last flight of the night. She had been staying with her sister saying she needed “her space.” I had a feeling this time around, she had returned only to collect her things.

  Having found a plug just outside the terminal parking lot, I decided to charge my laptop and work on a spreadsheet before heading in. It had been a long day at the office and finding a plug in a secluded and lonely place seemed fortuitous.

  I hunkered down in a darkish corner as travelers went from cars to planes and back again. Fascinated by the faces of the hurried people, I abandoned my spreadsheet, eventually closing the laptop completely.

  No doubt, anyone would have noticed me staring if they had simply turned to look, but no one did. My dark suit and the poor lighting helped, but I think it was something else: for most, destinations and goals are all there is.

  For most, but not all.

  I had never seen such sadness. The boy was flying out and the girl was there to see him off. He was decked out in full uniform with a duffel bag at his feet; she wore a flowery summer dress much too happy for their despondent quality. Her bright lipstick was somehow dulled by the sadness in her eyes. Neither, it seemed, had the courage to say, “Good-bye.”

  He lifted his hands to caress her cheeks. For a moment, I thought he was about to kiss her, but his eyes revealed a man busy memorizing his lover’s features. Every shape and line, it all had meaning.

  A tinny speaker announced that boarding had begun. The message didn’t seem to register until he let his arms drop. Her eyes puffed red as tears began to swell.

  He pulled out a handkerchief–it was pale, green army issue. She wiped both eyes before kissing it, imparting both lipstick and tears to the cloth. Handing it back, he accepted it, his eyes never leaving hers.

  She mouthed some unknown words, turned, and then fled toward the parking lot with her head buried in her hands.

  His military posture slumped as she disappeared into the darkness. The handkerchief, he lovingly folded and placed in the side pocket of his duffle bag.

  It was the speaker again–this time announcing final boarding. In a hurried motion, he snapped his hand from the side pocket unknowingly exposing the cherished cloth. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the bag over his shoulder. A moment later, the man was gone; only the handkerchief remained.

  I sat there stunned, unable to move, minutes passing. Coming to my senses, my first thought was to rush to the fallen handkerchief and find that soldier who by then was long gone.

  But as my thoughts began to translate into action, a green vested airport worker appeared where the forlorn lovers had been. She held metal tongs as if the precious article was hazardous material. A moment later, the lipstick, tears, and cloth were gone.

  Rarely do emotions get the better of me. But after packing my laptop, I headed straight to the airport gift shop. The flowers made my wife smile–the first time in years.

  And now, ten years later, I still buy flowers and she still smiles. I can say it was because of that handkerchief–a handkerchief long forgotten by all but me.

  Want a Free eBook?

  Head over to www.ClayBoutwell.com for fiction and/or www.TheJapanShop.com for Japanese instructional books. FREE!

  Clay Boutwell and his wife Yumi are the authors of several top ten books on learning Japanese, including: Hiragana, the Basics of Japanese, and Hikoichi, the first in their Japanese Reader Collection series. They have over twenty titles and are slowly adding more readers and study guides as ebooks and paperbacks. And...EVERY purchase comes with FREE MP3s!

  His fiction includes thrillers (Tanaka and the Yakuza's Daughter), mysteries (Two Tocks before Midnight), and, yes, superheroes! (The Temporal)

  www.ClayBoutwell.com

  www.TheJapanShop.com

  www.TheJapanesePage.com

  Please contact the author at [email protected] or visit his blog at: http://www.ClayBoutwell.com

  Your comments and questions are most welcome.

  Also by Clay Boutwell

  THE AGORA MYSTERY SERIES

  The Agora Letters - For the first time, get the first five stories in the Agora Series in a single volume at a reduced price.

  Two Tocks before Midnight - When a flurry of forgeries appear in museums and among collectors, the members of the Agora, a society dedicated to the betterment of man, take it upon themselves to stop the rogues.

  The Penitent Thief - A string of thefts ends in a grisly murder. Certain evidence leads Captain Barnwell to suspect a former thief, Rutherford Nordlinger as the culprit. Carl Brooke becomes personally involved as Nordlinger’s guilt is questioned.

  The Peace Party Massacre - Kidnapped! An honorable man has gone missing and his wife is not in the least helpful. The sheriff dithers and every day brings death closer to a reality.

  The Curse of the Mad Sheik - A grieving widow believes her husband’s death to be something more than a failing heart. A ruby—said to be cursed—had been found in his hands. The police and her closest kin say otherwise.

  The Captain’s Play - Captain Barnwell, long an honorary member of the Agora Society, presents to the members a solved case one clue at a time. Three suspects. One is the murderer.

  Murder by Monday - Set in the late 1800s, Carl Brooke and his friend Rutherford Nordlinger are called to the aid of a man who, accused of murder, is now threatened by the man he is said to have killed.

  Eggs over Arsenic - An art critic is brutally murdered. The main suspect: the subject of the critic’s last review.

  THE TEMPORAL SERIES

  The Temporal — A devastating earthquake in central Japan sends eternity crashing into time, enabling Sam to hear echoes of the past and even the future. Through the echoes, Sam and a mysterious Japanese woman learn of a terrorist plot that could plunge the world into turmoil and position a murderer as the leader of the free world.

  A Temporal Trust — After stopping a terrorist plot to position a murderer as president, Sam Williams must come to grips with his newfound abilities. As one of the Temporal, his encounters with eternity give him both gifts and challenges to overcome as a new threat emerges that could wipe out the Temporal for all time.

  Carritos — In 1906, the San Francisco earthquake took everything from Jackson. It took, but it also gave. He soon found he had been given the ability to...stop time, to "freeze" the world around him. He lives the good life among tiny mortals. Stealing, bribing, stumbling his way into making a living. All this can be forgiven, he figures, as long as he keeps two rules. Just two, but they are absolute and non-negotiable: thou shalt not kill and family comes first. Now Jackson must make a choice, a choice that will change everything. The choice is: which rule will he break?

  THE TANAKA SERIES

  Tanaka and the Yakuza’s Daughter — Akira Tanaka's past as an undercover agent in Tokyo's underworld has caught up with his present. Now he must find out who kidnapped his only daughter, and why. Can he rescue her before it's too late?