Track of the Beast: A Brock Stone Adventure

9- The Newspaper

Seattle was not what Stone had expected. He had envisioned a small coastal town, an oasis on the outskirts of the dense forests of the Pacific Northwest. While the oasis analogy might have been apt, it was a far cry from a small town. Though it was no match for the bustling cities of the east, it was most definitely a city.

Alex had been grumpy since their encounter with the fighter. Although his rocketboots had worked remarkably well, they had burned out just as Stone returned to the Flying Wing. As they walked down the streets, his mood brightened and he excitedly pointed out prominent landmarks. Though he had never visited the west coast, he had studied up on their destination.

“That’s Smith Tower,” he said, pointing his hook in the direction of a skyscraper that dominated the skyline. It was topped by a pyramidal spire that shone in the sun. “It stands 484 feet tall. At thirty-eight stories it is the tallest skyscraper in the city.”

“I can see that,” Stone said.

“I would not want to be one of the men who helped build that thing,” Moses said. “If I’m going to be that high in the air, I want wings and rocketboots.”

“It’s one of the tallest skyscrapers outside of New York City,” Alex said, diverting the subject away from the rocketboots. “It’s the tallest building west of the Mississippi.”

“Actually,” Constance said, “it’s now the second-tallest. The Kansas City Power and Light Building overtook it just last year.”

“Interesting,” Alex said. He’d taken a shine to Constance and she seemed to share his interest, though they’d kept their interactions fully above board. “I hope we’ll get to see the Aurora Bridge. It just opened in February and it’s supposed to be a magnificent representation of cantilever and truss construction.”

“It’s also a favorite of suicide jumpers,” Constance said. “Mostly broken-hearted lovers from what I hear.”

“I can’t imagine anyone would ever be so foolish as to break your heart,” Alex teased.

“The newspaper office is just around the corner,” Stone said loudly, cutting off their cloying banter before it could truly get underway. “You did say Trinity planned on visiting here?” he said to Constance.

“She specifically mentioned it during our last phone call.”

Moses excused himself and crossed the street over to a city park where a group of men, working-class judging by their clothing, were gambling with dice. They were mostly white, but a few black and Chinese men were among their number and they invited Moses to join them. Stone smiled ruefully.

The office of the Seattle Spokesman was small, neat, and smelled strongly of ink. A young man in a cheap suit greeted them politely and asked their business.

“Brock Stone to see Mister Griffith.”

“I am Mister Blinn. May I help you?”

“No.” Stone didn’t intend to be rude. He simply saw no point in wasting time. “It is Mister Griffith we need to see.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Mister Blinn,” Constance said gently, nudging her way in front of Stone, “our friend and your colleague in the newspaper industry, Trinity Paige, is missing. We know she had a recent meeting scheduled with Mister Griffith. Did you, by any chance, meet her?”

Blinn’s demeanor suddenly changed. “I remember her. Quite a tomato, that one.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, but froze under Stone’s cold glare. “I’ll take you to Mister Griffith right away.” He turned and led them through a bright green door into a smoke-filled office.

“There are people here to see you,” Blinn said to the surprised-looking man seated inside.

Griffith was a stocky, bald man with a few strands of hair clinging stubbornly to the top of his shiny pate. He fingered his walrus mustache and stared at them over the top of a tiny pair of reading glasses.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone,” he rumbled.

“Brock Stone. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Stone stepped forward and gave him a firm handshake. “I appreciate you seeing us on short notice.”

“But I didn’t…”

“We are here about Trinity Paige,” Stone continued, not permitting the man to finish his sentence. “She’s missing and we understand you were the last person to see her alive.”

“Now see here.” Griffith rose from his seat, an unimpressive sight considering the top of his head came up to Stone’s chin. His tone and demeanor suggested he was accustomed to bullying and browbeating his underlings, but he faltered under Stone’s gaze. “I did meet with the woman,” he continued, softer this time. “But that’s all.”

“Why did you meet with her?” Stone kept his tone firm but polite.

“Because she showed up unannounced and barged her way in here, just like you did. I warned young Blinn here,” he nodded at his employee, whose face had turned a fine shade of pale, “not to let something like that happen again.”

“It’s my fault, I’m afraid.” Constance moved up to stand beside Stone. “I’m terribly worried about Trinity and Mister Blinn was so kind to me.”

Griffith’s face softened as his eyes fell on Constance. “I’m sure he was.” His tone was lascivious. Stone glared at him and the newspaper man’s face turned scarlet.

“What can you tell us about the work Trinity is doing out here?”

“She’s investigating an east coast businessman named Kane. I couldn’t tell her much, just rumors.”

“Any idea where she went?” Stone pressed.

“Kane has been conducting business in this area for about a decade. One area that has raised suspicion is his logging business.”

“Why would that be suspicious?” Stone asked.

“It’s not so much the business, but the rumors that surround it.”

“What sort of rumors?” Constance said.

“Most of them are absurd, not even worth mentioning. One persistent rumor is that the company is covering up deaths inside their camp. Injuries and even deaths aren’t uncommon in logging, but the men who do that kind of work all know the risks. Rumor has it the company is burying the bodies and claiming the men just walked off the job.”

Stone wasn’t sure what to make of this. “Mister Griffith, in your opinion, is this something worth investigating?”

Griffith shrugged. “I doubt it. Miss Paige seemed to lose interest in that topic fairly quickly. After that, she started asking ridiculous questions.”

“That doesn’t sound like Trinity,” Constance said.

“What sorts of questions?” Stone asked.

“About monsters and ghosts. Nonsense and absurdities. I finally had to show her the door. Politely, of course.”

“And you have no idea where she went when she left here?”

“None.” Griffith forced a tight-lipped smile. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am a very busy man.”

They thanked him for his time and left the office. On their way out, Blinn accosted them.

“I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation.” His cheeks turned scarlet under Constance’s disappointed frown. “All of it, actually. The walls are thin.” He cast a nervous glance in the direction of Griffith’s door and lowered his voice. “Mister Griffith lied to you. Miss Paige did tell him what her next stop would be.”

“More thin walls, I take it?” Constance said.

“Never mind that,” Stone said. “Where was Trinity going next?”

Blinn grimaced. “It’s a strange place. Some even say it is haunted.”