Phantom of Black Rock Cove: Gideon Detective Series, #5

By Sidney St. James

Phantom of Black Rock Cove

Gideon Detective Series

Book 5 - A NOVELLA

Introducing Bridget Flynn

 

Thick icy sheets of rain obscured Bridget's vision. Her flashlight died just inches into the wall of water, bouncing off of millions of raindrops, each one bigger than the lemon drops she had in her pocket. The flash river running down the street gushed over the tops of her high heel shoes.

 

Even the passage of the light slowed, and the sounds became as if they were muffled from a heavy blanket over someone's face. Aside from the beating of his heart, not one muscle moved. The pounding inside beat a rhythm to the words of his execution, the cold steel from the blunt end of a heavy steel hammer had killed his nephew. Richard Dawson became white as chalk. His eyes and mouth were frozen wide open in an expression of stunned surprise. His mind was sent spinning, unable to comprehend or process the images before him.

 

The hammer entered three times on the side of the dead man's head, leaving blood everywhere, blasting a cavity in the side of his skull as it burst crimson all about and scattered across the red long-leaf pine floors. The man's face, so handsome and young in life, was frozen, eyes open, mouth slack. When the sheriff came to the crime scene, the body laid like a ghoulish mannequin with blood everywhere. His face was bruised and covered with great blotches. Four of his ribs were no doubt broken as one stuck out the side.

 

Over a half-dozen detective firms were hired to find out who the killer or killers were. Almost a year passed, and the case grew cold. Richard Dawson sent word to Portland to the famed Detective, Vincent Gideon, to come and do what so many others couldn't. Find the killer of his nephew. It wasn't long after Gideon arrived he realized why other respectful detective agencies were not able to locate the killer. At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the autumn air, a shimmer of mist. Through it, the trees and boulders along Brushy Creek became slightly out of focus, like a poorly taken photograph. It wasn't until Fred Andreas got out of his car and walked down the edge of the stream did matters become more evident. The apparition wore the same clothes as the man who was killed in the bank several months earlier.

 

For a moment, all was silent, the spirit's eyes brimming with silver tears that shone brightly in the moonlight. Fred froze, no words came forth. He took a step backward. Then, the ghoul spoke, "Who killed me?" His grin became a snarl, baring teeth like that of a wolf. He came closer without taking a step…In the fifth novel in the Gideon Detective Series, we find the introduction of Bridget Flynn and Casey Brennan as wanna-be detectives in this new suspense thriller!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BeeBop Publishing Group
• Release date: May 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393092582

Sidney St. James

Sidney St. James is an extraordinary author who has made his mark in the world of science fiction suspense. With a creative mind that knows no bounds, St. James weaves captivating tales that transport readers to thrilling and otherworldly realms. His unique ability to blend the elements of science fiction with heart-pounding suspense has garnered him a dedicated following of readers eager to embark on their next exhilarating adventure. Born with an insatiable curiosity and a love for all things speculative, St. James found his calling in the realm of science fiction. From a young age, he was drawn to the limitless possibilities and unexplored frontiers of the genre. Influenced by literary greats and inspired by the wonders of the cosmos, St. James embarked on a writing journey that would push the boundaries of imagination and captivate readers with their visionary tales. St. James' science fiction novels are a testament to their boundless creativity and meticulous attention to detail. With each page, readers are transported to intricate and fully realized worlds, where technological advancements, extraterrestrial encounters, and moral dilemmas abound. His skillful storytelling keeps readers on the edge of their seats, as they navigate through a maze of suspense, intrigue, and thought-provoking concepts. In addition to his literary accomplishments, St. James is an avid pickleball player. This dynamic sport, which combines elements of tennis, badminton, and table tennis, serves as a source of balance and inspiration for St. James. The strategic gameplay and the camaraderie of the pickleball community provide a welcome respite from the boundless realms of science fiction that occupies his mind. As St. James continues to push the boundaries of the science fiction suspense genre, his unique blend of imagination, suspense, and pickleball prowess sets him apart as a true force to be reckoned with. With each new novel, readers eagerly anticipate the next thrilling journey that St. James will take them on, whether it's unraveling the mysteries of distant galaxies or engaging in a high-stakes match on the pickleball court. Sidney St. James is a true visionary and an author whose stories and pickleball skills will leave readers and opponents alike in awe.

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Published by BeeBop Publishing Group Georgetown, Texas

All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, come from the King James Version (KJV) of the Bible in the public domain.

All song lyrics reflected in this novel were written before 1923, not copyrighted, and are part of the public domain.

All characters are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any relationship with anyone, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by Sidney St. James

SECOND EDITION

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without

permission in writing from Sidney St. James, except where permitted by law.

The jacket format and design of this novel are protected trade dresses and trademarks of Sidney St. James and the BeeBop Publishing Group.

Manufactured in the United States of America Published simultaneously in Canada

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

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FIRST EDITION: NOVEMBER 2017

PAPERBACK AVAILABLE SOON

Dedication

To caffeine, sugar, and cream, my buddies through many long early mornings of writing.

Chapter One

The Case of the Phantom in the BRC Begins

When Gideon awakened , it was raining. He laid on the ground and listened to the sound of the downpour pelleting the muddy field around him. The detective couldn’t help but notice the nearby Plumbago bush and the leaves that bent under the weight of the water, tinted silver from the light off the back porch.

As he laid there, the water fell on the side of his head and trickled down his face and then lost itself in the back of his shirt. He turned on his side to look for Billy Bob, his body lubricated by the surrounding mud. He pushed down to help himself up and felt the cold, stiff grass beneath it.

He sat up, stopping while sitting down and looked around. Where was he? He looked back towards the porch and saw all the windows closed, and raindrops swelling with water and eventually streaming down the glass. What in the hell was going on?

He was home, out in the yard. It didn’t frighten him. He always liked the rain and enjoyed playing in it ever since he was a young boy. The problem was, he didn’t know how he had gotten to where he was! He just couldn’t remember.  Had he gotten up to fix himself a midnight snack. A glass of water? Or, did he just walk out the back door.

His thoughts began to get the better of him. What if my neighbor looks out her window and sees me and thinks it is a burglar? What if she calls the police and they come, and I get shot in the backyard?

What was he going to say? I was sleepwalking!

Mister Gideon! Mister Gideon, sir, please come in out of the rain.

Gideon shook his head back and forth and stood up in the pouring rain in his pajamas. No doubt, he had been sleepwalking and was standing in a torrential rainfall outdoors in the middle hours of the morning.

THE NEXT DAY, VINCENT Gideon was sitting in his office, enjoying some relaxation after once again his nemesis, Rosenthall, had escaped his clutches. No matter, he was exhausted and wanted to do nothing but take a break from the detective business. Besides, he deserved a much-needed rest.

Billy Bob just brought his afternoon cup of tea and a stack of mail with a rubber band around it.

The famed detective turned through the mail quickly, his mind on loading his ’34 Ford with his fishing rods and tackle and going down to the beach in Black Rock Cove for some real rest and relaxation. Away from people and away from junk mail.

He stopped on a curious envelope with a return address of First State Bank of Black Rock Cove. It was written by Jonathan McElroy, a Cashier employed with the bank.

The staff member wrote the letter on behalf of the Board of Directors. Samuel Dawson, the Notes Payable Clerk, was brutally murdered at the bank, and over $150,000 was stolen. after the police called an end of their investigation, Jonathan and his employers were at the end of their rope. The murderers were never caught.

His ending statement was that even though the money was never recovered, although it was a consideration of importance to the bank, the first priority sought was the capture of the murderers of Dawson.

Having already arranged his business for a brief absence and some mighty exceptional fishing at the Cove, he was all ready for the journey and sped westward to the ocean and Black Rock Cove.

Gideon arrived three days later in the early morning, one of the most delightful days of early spring. Even though he was on a case, he was glad to be out of the hustle-bustle of the big city of Portland. He was once again back in the seaside village he so much enjoyed. Maybe he will be able to get some fishing in while also working on the case.

Possessing such a talent as a Transformist, Gideon elected to not necessarily change characters and entered the town as a tourist wanting to enjoy some fishing.  This way, he could work some relaxation into his visit and able to make many inquiries relative to the citizens in the village without exciting any suspicion.

Vincent sent a note to McElroy on his arrival, announcing himself under a fictitious name and received a reply to come to the bank at seven o’clock in the evening. During the day, he walked around the Cove and, in particular, the layout of the bank about other businesses in the area. He wanted a first-hand look at the surroundings associated with the bank.

Black Rock Cove was a fishing village of medium size, pleasantly situated on the coast of Oregon of the Pacific Ocean. The surrounding country was wooded, with rolling hills heading to the east. Fishermen, mechanics, and laborers formed the bulk of the population. Capitalists and professional men were the most influential. These people owned property east of town along the gentle winding Oregon River. A small watercourse called Brushy Creek skirted one side of the Cove where many of the most beautiful and expensive estates were located.

The entire appearance of the eastern outskirts of Black Rock Cove and the surrounding countryside indicated a well-to-do population.

Having roamed about to his satisfaction, seeing many familiar sites and some not so familiar, he came back and rested at the hotel where he met several professional men of the county. It was still in the early spring where there were still many of the most prominent families who stayed there during the winter and the spring. He soon formed the acquaintance of several of the men.

Gideon was pleased he fitted right in and greeted with the highest regards and hospitality. His role as a German speculator and one out to enjoy some fishing while doing so was quite an easy one to play. At least, no one suspected his real role in visiting Black Rock Cove.

It was a quarter until seven. Gideon made his way over to the bank. On his arrival, John McElroy greeted him. He was taken through a private entrance and was within minutes joined by the bank president, Douglas Gibson, and Richard Dawson, the Vice President.

Gibson was fifty years of age but looked like he was eighty due to his exhausting labors as a lawyer for most of the years of his life. After his successful career, he retired from his active pursuit of his profession and joined a few others in the banking business.

Richard Dawson was not self-made. He inherited a substantial fortune but was wise enough to increase his worth through careful attention to business. He was unmarried.

Samuel Dawson, the murdered bank teller, was like a son to

Richard, who was his uncle and helped raise him when his brother died many years earlier. This was apparently the reason for the priority for the capture and conviction of the murderers.

Richard Dawson would not stand still after the police were unable to solve the case. Yes, the recovery of the large sum of money stolen was an important consideration, but not more important than the capture of the criminals, no matter how much it cost to do so.

The men sat around a conference table in the boardroom. Vincent pulled out his notepad and began to write notes of all the facts the gentlemen would present.

Mister Gibson, Gideon said, tell me what you know about the case, which might help me in the investigation. No matter how minute you think the facts might be, I want to hear about it. He said with quiet emphasis.

Mister Gideon, I have not been with the bank very long. Especially compared to the time Jonathan McElroy has been here. Perhaps, if you don’t mind, he could give you a better sketch of young Dawson’s connection with the bank first.

"Samuel joined our employ about six years ago. He started out in our branch office in Portland, and when he was twenty-one, he was offered a job here in Black Rock as a Notes Payable Teller.

His character was spotless. He had a very obliging disposition and courteous manner about him. He was very loyal to the bank, and his devotion to duty was superior. I can’t think of one thing dishonest with the young man."

Had he any associates you think might have been suspicious? He asked, wanting to put all the pieces of the puzzle together.

No, sir, Mister Gideon, was the prompt reply. I think none of us here would know of any acquaintances with suspicious associates. Very well. Please proceed and tell me what you know of the circumstances connected to the murder of Samuel Dawson.

"Samuel was a hard worker. He stayed late almost every day to finish his own books and helping the bank by acting as our bookkeeper. During busy seasons, he would be