The Detective's Assistant by Kate Hannigan

Author:Kate Hannigan
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Juvenile Fiction / Historical / United States / Civil War Period (1850-1877), Juvenile Fiction / Mysteries & Detective Stories
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2015-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

“What are you doing with those feathers?” I asked the next morning as our train rolled south across the wide, flat prairie toward Mississippi. I was watching Aunt Kitty stitch brown and blue pheasant feathers to an otherwise respectable black-velvet bonnet. I recognized those feathers to be the very ones that came off the bonnet she’d found on our landlady’s stoop a few months ago. I’d have to tell Jemma more about Aunt Kitty and her frugality.

“I’m creating part of my costume,” she said in a low voice. There were only a few other riders in our railcar, but I knew how important it was to remain undercover. I peered around at our fellow passengers, studying their faces one at a time. Was there an eavesdropper right here among us? A criminal?

“Could we talk more about the case we’re on?” I whispered, scooching closer on the wooden bench across from her. “Mr. Pinkerton talked so fast yesterday evening. I’d feel better knowing a few more of the particulars.”

Aunt Kitty nodded in agreement, though her eyes stayed fixed on her sewing. She took her time explaining the heart of the matter as she slipped her everyday bonnet from her head and substituted the flouncy, feathery one in its place. The long pheasant feathers made it appear that a large bird had nested and died up there.

“Here are the facts as I understand them,” she began quietly. “A bank teller was murdered in cold blood, and money was stolen. Even more money, in fact, than the fifty thousand dollars in the Maroney case. The sum stolen in this bank murder was one hundred and thirty thousand.”

I stared out the window at the scenery rushing past, trying to imagine all those zeroes. Aunt Kitty said the bank’s president asked Mr. Pinkerton for help solving the crime and getting that money back. And the lead suspect was a man of high society: the dead bank teller’s best pal.

I couldn’t help but gasp. A best friend like Jemma?

“And as Mr. Pinkerton explained, our job is to befriend the suspect and other townsfolk. Until we’ve solved this case, you and I shall go by the alias Potter. I will be known as Mrs. R. C. Potter, and you, Nell, will portray my niece Penelope Potter. We will be staying at a local hotel in Atkinson under the pretense of my being of ill health and in need of rest and recuperation in beautiful northern Mississippi. You will be accompanying me to help me convalesce.”

I stared at her blankly for a moment or two, turning that word around in my head.

“Convalesce means ‘to get better,’” Aunt Kitty said testily. “And we will drill vocabulary along with sums nightly during our Southern sojourn.”

I smiled and bounced heartily on the railcar bench, fluffing up my washed-out, red-checkered dress. I didn’t care how many vocabulary words she was going to make me memorize. This sure beat the pants off marketing for day-old meats. And Mr. Pinkerton had mentioned something about my playing a ghost this time, which sounded much easier than playing with an unruly child.

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