The voice on the phone said, "I understand that you are a friend of my son, James. He has gone missing. I require your assistance in bringing him home again...”
A university student has gone missing. Can his friends find out what has happened to James Frazer in 1920s Massachusetts?
Oscar frowned. “You mean you thought I’da lured you into a trap? No, sir!” He looked most indignant at the suggestion.
”Why not just go to the public library? That’s what everyone else would do who isn’t a student here!” replied the older man tartly. ”It’s on Goodwood Boulevard, as I’m sure your map will tell you.”
Sorry - a slight faux pas with my research! When I originally looked for libraries in Baton Rouge I found that the first one opened in the 1950s so I started down the ‘no public library’ route. Subsequently, I did a bit more Googling and found a report on the Louisiana Library Commission which said the first one opened in 1925…
"He meant the Sheriff, I think; it's happened to us before. The last time we were here, as a matter of fact."Lawrence corrects, not eager to make an enemy of the only local guy him and his friends knew. "But it's hard to know who you can trust these days. Any days, actually, but that's a whole other thing. Did you ever hear anything about a Sheriff Digne?"
"Watch how you talk to my wife," Alex warned, feeling real anger towards the man. "We are new and town and were mistaken. There's no need to be so unpleasant. Good day, Sir!" He huffs, turning to leave.
OOC: No worries. Made for an amusing scene if nothing else.
"Larry's exactly right," says William. "It's the Sheriff I suspected, and that's why I asked you about him. He seemed awfully anxious to get me down here quickly. I was going to drive, but he wanted me to take the train to get here faster."
Ivy ratchets up her glare to ‘stun’ before huffing loudly and turning to leave with Alex.
“Pompous oaf!” she mutters, just loud enough for the fellow to hear.
When they leave the building, she stops to consult her map.
“I can see no library; I should write a letter of complaint to the publisher! There’s Goodwood Boulevard however,” she says, jabbing a finger at the paper. “The town hall might be worth a visit too.”
Oscar looked mollified by their explanation. “Digne was crooked. He’d ha’ sold his soul to the devil to make a dollar.” He hawked and spat through the open door to show what he thought of the ex-sheriff.
Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he said ”I don’t really know this new one but he’s makin’ the right noises an’ you don’t hear the stories o’ corruption that followed Digne like a bad smell…”
It was a fifteen minute walk to Goodwood Boulevard where a modern building stood on a corner, with ‘Public Library’ above the door.
Inside, a pinch-faced, middle-aged woman looked up as thry entered. ”Can I help you?” she asked briskly, looking over the tops of her half-moon reading glasses.
Were Alex a meaner fellow, he would have commented on what a surprise it was to see Ivy's sister working here. Instead, he smiles. "Good day ma'am. My wife and I are visiting, as you can tell by our accents," He chuckles. "We're very interested in local customs and folklore. Do you have much of a section on that?"
"You're more right about Sheriff Digne than you will ever know."Larry fixes his gaze on Oscar which, because Larry now averages at about one or two blinks per minute, is somehow more unnerving than when his eyes were bouncing all over the room. "But he got what was coming to him, but if you ask me, probably not enough! But... You know, you get what you get. You've been a help to us, Oscar; if you need anything on that car of yours looked at, I'd be happy to lend a hand. I can still spare some money for gas, of course, but I always liked working on machines."
Oscar was starting to pick up on ‘Larry’s’ weird vibe.“Ah’m good, thanks. Ah’ve had plenny o’ time t’ teach ma’self how t’ look after it…” He said slowly.
He looked from ‘Larry’ to ‘Theodore’.”If you gennelmen can see yer way t’ gettin’ me some gas, ah’ll be happy t’ run you aroun’,” he said.
”We do have a small section on local folk tales, both European and indigenous,” replied Ivy’s strange twin, whose nameplate identified her as Ms. Dahlia Jones.
Oscar smiled.“There’s a garage ona way into town,” he said. He took his suit coat down from a peg on the wall and put it on, smoothing down the fabric and carefully tucking in some stray threads on the frayed cuffs.
”Where would you wanna go first?” he asked.
”If you would like to follow me, I’ll get you started,” replied Dahlia, who led them to a large reading desk, well-positioned to take advantage of the natural light. She went to peruse the stacks, returning shortly with an armful of books. ”The information you want should be in here,”
"I think we should visit the Sheriff first," says William. "He'll be expecting us soon, but I wanted to ask you about him first. He'll want us to show him the place we were held in Terrebonne, but he may provide transportation there."
"I'd like to stop by a place called Latil's down on Main Street, first."Lawrence suggests. "I don't feel like going out to the swamp without being properly armed."
Tuesday March 10th, 1931 10.30am
J. Latil, Gunsmith, 321 Main St., Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Having got Oscar a few dollars of gas, he drove them over to Latil’s gun store on Main St., where he found a parking spot nearby.
Entering the store, a middle-aged, olive skinned man with neatly pomaded hair greeted them politely. “Good day, gentlemen. How may I help you today?”
Tuesday March 10th, 1931 10.30am
Baton Rouge Public Library, Goodwood Blvd,Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Although Alex was floundering (he told himself his strengths were in interrogating people, not books), Ivy was making better progress. The books detailed the many beliefs of the Native American people, and charted how many of their beliefs were either lost or intertwined with Christian beliefs, once missionaries started to make their way into Indian territory.
The tribes were many, though broadly grouped into some familiar to Ivy and some not so. Chitimacha, Coushatta, Biloxi and Tunica had all lived in the area at one time and the books recorded their decline and move to reservations as the white settlers increasingly move onto their lands and drove them out.
Many smaller tribes were also mentioned, some of which were passing through like the Choctaw and the Natchez, but the Hopi caught Ivy’s eye as the booked detailed the Hopi snake dance, in which they danced with live snakes in their mouths. The Hopi also believed that they lived in kivas - underground chambers - until they ascended into this world.
"I was sent here by Jack Clancy. Me and my friend Theodore here came from up north to do a little hunting."Larry announces, eying the guns on display like a giddy child at a candy store. "I'm going after alligators, myself, so I'd like something real high-powered. Put the thing down in one shot, you know, cause you might not get another."
