Jane and the Fire – Part XXXI

Jane is back! In 1958, young Jane has just moved to the city of Chicago, Illinois with her parents and cousins. Even as Jane and her friends begin to make progress towards uncovering the mysteries of the Three Thugs, some mysterious forces seem to throw wrenches in the path of truth and justice. Already, someone seems to have kidnapped Jane’s cousins and her friends…

Outside, a burly worker with a sack over his shoulder was pushing his way through pedestrians heading for The Hungry Eagle. He was heading towards a large black motorcar where another equally burly workman waited already. But the sack wasn’t still as it should have been. It moved, wriggling and kicking. The workman adjusted his grip on it even as its efforts knocked his golf cap from his head. He bent to pick it up, and the other workman barked at him to hurry it.

Jane felt her stomach sink. It had to be a kidnapping. She couldn’t wait to warn anyone. She had to run and check. Without another thought she dove for the door.

“We haven’t got all day, Jan,” growled the workman waiting at the car. “Why don’t you try lifting for a change, then, Jigger?” snapped Jan, adjusting the sack over his other shoulder.

“I’ve got a delicate shoulder just now,” Jigger said piously, “Doctor’s orders not to strain it.”

“I’d just like to see the doctor’s note for evidence is what I’d like,” Jan said, with bottomless scorn.

Jane had grabbed Don’s bike. She pedaled furiously behind the black motorcar. Fortunately, it was not very fast, and she found it quite easy to keep up. For one thing, Jigger was a terrible driver, maneuvering the wheel as if he was in a cartoon, overshooting in one direction and heaving the wheel in the opposite direction to compensate. Jan too was no help, complaining audibly of carsickness (and with Jigger’s driving, who could blame him?) and forcing Jigger to stop regularly yet suddenly, which caused the car to jolt massively.

So Jane found it quite easy to overtake the slow car, zooming in front of it and leaping off to stand directly in front of the car, glowering.

“Oy!!!!” cried Jigger, “Are you crazy?! What do you want, an early grave?”

“What the ‘ell she’s thinking of?!” Jan supported, though he still looked green as he shook a fist and held the other to the mouth.

“What exactly do you have in your car?” Jane yelled, cutting right to the chase.

Jan and Jigger stopped at once, freezing and exchanging guilty looks that screamed to Jane, plain as day, that it was indeed her friends trapped in the car.

“You’ve got to open the back,” demanded she again, “at once! I know just what’s in the back of the van! You’re a bunch of dreadful kidnappers!”

A man and his wife walking by stopped by to listen. “What’s going on here,” the man began angrily, “what are you fellows up to?”

“If you inquire must so rudely really,” began Jan in an oily voice, when Jigger elbowed him sharply. “Idiot!” He passed Jan a wrinkled piece of paper, and Jan began again.

“If you really must inquire so rudely,” he oiled, “we’re quite innocent salesfolk working humbly for a living.”

“Moron,” groused Jigger, “If I’d said that part, I’d a done it right…”

Only Jane heard him and she looked at him in confusion.

“Well then,” interjected another bystander, “Open up the trunk of the vehicle and let’s see what you’ve got in there.”

“Very well,” beamed Jigger, “Let me show you, gladly, gladly…” Effusively beckoning, he led the group to the back of the vehicle and opened the door. Jane leapt forward – only to find the truck stacked with bricks.

“We are bricks,” Jigger said, grinning suavely. Jan smacked him on the head. “We sell bricks,” amended Jigger coolly. “Nothing to see here but bricks,” Jan supplied, glaring at Jigger. He was right. There were stacks of bricks, and even as she climbed into the truck and looked around behind the piles, she could see no track of her cousins or friends.

“But I saw you carrying a sack!” she cried, outraged.

“Well,” said the man who had helped her flag them down, “there isn’t a sack here. Only bricks.”

“Quite good, my right sir,” said Jigger smiling, which turned quickly to a frown as Jan stepped hard on his foot. “Quite right, my good sir.”

“If you don’t remember what to say check the paper!” hissed Jan. Again Jane was the only one to hear him. The bystanders dispersed, after apologizing for their untoward interruption. A few gave Jane a dark look, and a murmured threat about crying wolf. She stood frozen, by her bike.

As the van drove off, a brown piece of paper flew over into her face.

“Things…” she read, “to say if you get caught…? What?!”

Where are Jane’s friends? Will she rescue them? Read on to find out!