Excerpt: Mark Steele Mystery: Cloak and Dager

CHAPTER 1

The PA system crackled, and a dulcet toned female voice echoed out over the terminal, "Nok és gentelmen , kaphatok -t -a figyelem ; Utas eltávozó -ra Brit Szellozoaknák repülés 299 kilépo részére London legyen szíves ügyrendi -hoz kapu 3,"

Francis Appleton could only pick out a few words that she recognized. The tour she was with, had only arrived in Budapest yesterday; not enough time to learn much of a foreign language. The maid at the hotel, where she stayed last night, had been most helpful in that regard; she had written a few Hungarian words down for Francis, with their English translation. Francis could at least say 'thank you', order coffee, a glass of water, or wine, and find a restroom.

The female voice boomed out again from the overhead speakers. The announcement shook Francis from her reminiscence; this time the voice began to speak in English, "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention; Passengers departing on British Airways flight 299 leaving for London please proceed to gate 3." When she had finished this time she paused again and then began speaking in French, "Les dames et gentelmen, peut j'avoir votre attention; les Passagers ...." Francis didn't pay much attention to the remainder of the announcement. She pulled the paper, the maid had given her last night, from her purse and read it over. She look around the airport lobby frantically. 'Where was it,' she thought, 'if I don't find one in a minute I'll wet my panties.'

Against the wall fifty yards away she spots the small sign above the door, it read: 'öltözék'. Francis recognized the word from the piece of paper in her hand; it was the Hungarian word for 'toilette'. She hurried toward the door entered it quickly. Not paying much attention to the interior appointments she rushed to the nearest stall and went inside, closing the door rapidly behind herself.

Once seated, she found that the urge to relieve herself had somehow gone away. Perhaps she thought, 'it must just be all the excitement that's gotten my bladder on edge.' Feeling she had some time, 'after-all,' she muttered to herself, 'that was only the first call for passengers to board the plane. I have plenty of time.' She sat there a few more minutes, just to make sure she didn't really have to go. She heard someone else enter the room, and the sound of running water. The sound of the water was all that her bladder had needed, and it began to release a torrent into the porcelain bowl. She smiled.

Outside the stall, the water continued to run, but she payed little attention to it, now that it had served it's purpose. She finished up, patted herself dry with a tissue, and re-dressed herself. As she stepped out of the stall she can feel one of her garter's release its hold on her stocking. Without thought, she bends down and pulls up the hem of her skirt and begins to adjust her right stocking, and re-clasp the garter. As she did this, the pitch of the running water changes, causing her too look in the direction of the new sound. To her dismay she was now looking at a man, fully exposed and urinating in a trough type urinal on the wall. The man is quite tall and slim, with sandy brown hair, likely in his late thirties. He is well dressed, in a blue pinstriped suit, with a gray felt hat on his head and a tan trench-coat draped over his shoulder. Francis finds it impossible to pull her gaze from the man's appendage, as it continues to spew a strong steady stream of yellow liquid into the white porcelain fixture. She also can't help but note; that he is more gifted in that department than any of her old boyfriends.

Without stopping what he is doing, or making any effort to cover himself, he looks at Francis and smiles. He then begins speaking in German, "Frau glaube ich, dass Sie eine falsche Umdrehung genommen haben können."

Francis' face and neck blushes blood-red, but her eyes remain glued to their target, as she lowers the hem of her skirt; and with a quizzical look about her face finally turns her head toward the man's face and says, "Pardon me! What did you say?"

Still smiling at her, now with a broader more toothy smile, and a strong steady stream still coming from his now growing appendage. He nods to her, and finally says, in clear precise English, "I said; Madam, I believe you have taken the wrong turn."

Without saying another word Francis turns quickly and bolts for the door. Her leather soled shoes slip badly on the wet tile floor, making it difficult for her to make headway, but finally manages to get to the door without falling down. Outside she leaned against the wall to steady herself, her heart pounding in her chest, her breathing coming in huge gasps. The coolness of the tile wall begin to calm her a bit, as other passengers continue to scurry past her, lost in their own quests, none paying the least notice of her distress. She glances at the sign on the door, which reads 'Ember', and below it a piece of paper has been Scotch-taped with the word "Gents" written on it in pencil.

A calmness washes over her as she stands there by the wall, and recalling what she had just witnessed; she begins to smile. The sound of water being flushed comes from behind the door, and she begins to laugh. She looked around and found the sign across the lobby that read 'kapu 3' with an arrow pointing to the left. She started walking in that direction, but after only two steps she falters and almost falls, her knees have become very week.

'I wonder...,' she thought to herself, 'would you call this is an adventure, Miss Francis Rosetta Appleton, ... I think most of your friends in Peoria might think so!'

# # #

“Excuse me Miss ... I'm sorry to have to wake you, but we'll be landing in London in a few minutes.”

Francis opened her eyes to see the smiling face of one of the Stewardess standing over her.

“Thank you, are we on time?”

“Yes Miss, actually a little early, I believe we're be landing about fifteen minute ahead of schedule.”

NOTE TO AUTHOR: I don't really know how to transition here – I need a short scene with Francis in London that will somehow eventually get her on the airplane to Boston. I will have to think about this for a time and see if I can work it out – I'll write this scene later.

# # #

Francis handed her ticket package to the stewardess as she entered the plush cabin.

The stewardess smiled broadly, “Welcome aboard Pan American flight 122, Lockheed Constellation service, London to Boston,” she glanced at the ticket, “Miss Appleton, you are seated in row seven on the right by the window. If you need any assistance please let me know.”

“Will we be leaving on schedule?”

“Yes, Miss Appleton,” the stewardess said, as she glanced at her wristwatch, “We are due to depart in ... ahh, twenty four minutes ... 7:00PM London time.”

Francis found her way to her seat, placing her makeup case (NOTE TO AUTHOR: This may be refereed to as a 'travel case' in 1954 - CHECK-IT) in the open overhead compartment above her seat without assistance. She put the small overnight case under the seat in front of her. The small case contained her night gown and robe, things which she would need later when they made up the berths. Francis was seated only a few minutes when an elder man sat down in the isle seat next to her.

“Hello, my name is Robert,” he smiled, as he sat down, and extended his hand, “Looks like we'll be traveling together.”

“Glad to meet you Robert, I'm Francis.”

“You been in London long?”

“No, just overnight, this time. I did spend two weeks here when I began my trip.”

“You traveling alone?

“I started the trip with a friend, but in the middle of our stay here in London, she had to have her appendix removed. When she recovered she decided to go back to the States.”

“So you've been traveling extensively then, by yourself?”

“Yes ... After my friend left, I joined a little tour group, we traveled around the Mediterranean, North Africa, and the
Holy Lands.”

“So you've seen some interesting sights.”

“Oh, my yes. All the places I read about as a child. The Eiffel tower, The Leaning tower, the Pyramids, the Sphinx, Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Marvelous, wondrous places.”

“I've only been here in England, for a month; visiting my son, Fred and his English wife Sara. We didn't go as far as you, but we did visit lots of castles, cathedrals and museums. Fred's in the Army, you know, he's been stationed in Lancaster for over a year, but scheduled to return to the U.S. soon. Unfortunately he's was on duty most of the time, except for weekends, so Sara has been my main tour guide. We didn't go far, because of her condition, Sara just gave birth to a baby girl a week ago, you know,” he beamed. She and the baby are siting a little further back in the plane.”

“You look very proud. But why aren't you and Sara sitting together?”

“Oh, my yes ... my first grandchild, you know. I'm not setting with Sara, because when we purchased our tickets there were only two seats left, so we are forced to sit separately.”

“That's a shame, but what about your wife; is she not traveling with you too.”

“No, I'm afraid Alice, my wife, passed away last year,” a frown spread cross his face, “But I sure she would have liked Sara,” he mused, a misty look filling his eyes, “And she would have adored Emily, the new baby.”

“I'm terribly sorry, about your wife.”

“It's Okay, these things happen. Us old Doughboy's, cowered together in the trenches, of the Great War learned quickly, 'One never knows when their number is up.' or as our French hosts would say 'C'est la vie' , in English that translates to: 'It is life'. Many years of living, since that war, have though me that you just have to make the most of living, as you find it.”

“That's a marvelous way to look at it. It sort of puts it all into perspective, doesn't it?”

Robert didn't reply, just leaned back in his seat resting his head against the back. A serious look came across face and he turned to Francis. “Now that you brought it up, I think I'll see if I can change seats, with the passenger next to Sara, would you mind if someone else sat next to you?”

“No, no ... don't be silly, you go right ahead.” Francis smiled at the older man.

“Okay then, I'll go ask if the other passenger will change seats with me.”

“Oh, Robert, if need be, I can change with someone. You go see what you can work out.”

“Thank you, you're so very nice.”

Robert got up and moved down the isle toward the back of the plane. Francis looked back over the seat backs but couldn't see who he was talking to.

A few minutes after Robert left his seat a man come down the isle, sat down in the seat next to Francis and said, “Hallo Fräulein.”

“Where is Robert?”

“He convinced me to change seats with him, it seems that I was seated next to his daughter.”

“Oh, not his daughter, his daughter-in-law.”

A puzzled look appeared in the mans face, he was about to say something else when Francis spoke again, “His son's wife and their new baby.”

“Ah, yes I understand now. And so, it all worked out perfectly.”

“Yes it did.”

The man looked intently at Francis for a minute, then settled back into his seat.

Francis looked at the man's profile and a look of shock crept over her face.

“Wait a minute, I know you. You're the man from Budapest. The man in the restroom.”

“Ja ... you remember me ... as I you.

“Have you been following me?”

“No, nothing like that. In the toilette in Budapest, I thought you very attractive and wished to make your acquaintance, I merely made a few inquiries to that end. As you may remember, I was somewhat indisposed, and you ran off so quickly, I could not follow.”

“You didn't tell Robert that did you?”

No, no, a gentleman would never do anything like that, but if Robert hadn't approached me I would have talked with him.”

“Why?”

“I wished to talk with you, that's all.”

“What DID you say to Robert?”

“That we were lovers and we had a spat.”

“You didn't!”

“No, I'm jesting,” he smiled at her. “I actually didn't tell him anything, except that I would be glad to exchange seats with him. He dose not know that we have met before.”

“How did you know I was on a tour?”

“I know many things.”

“So you have been following me?”

“Not exactly, but we do seem to be headed in the same direction.”

“Flying all the way to the United States seem a quite drastic measure for someone who isn't following someone else.”

“Oh, no ... I was to go to America tomorrow, regardless.”

“Why are you on this plane today if you were to go tomorrow?”

“At the hotel, I was having a drink at the bar when I witnessed you talking to the hotel clerk. I wanted to talk to you
then but you left the hotel, again too quickly. Before I could pay the barman, for my drink, you had vanished.”

“That still doesn't explain why your on this plane and not tomorrows plane.”

“I talked to the hotel clerk, and after some money changed hands, he told me you were to leave on this flight; I had the concierge reschedule my flight so I could travel today.”

“All that trouble just to talk to me.”

“Call it a fascination, if you will ... you intrigue me.”

“But I could easily be your daughter.”

“Do I seem that old to you?”

“No, but still.”

“You dislike older men?”

“No, I didn't say that ... I never. I've never really though about it.”

“Dose the though that a somewhat older man might find you interesting, even attractive, bother you?”

Francis didn't answer right away, she instead turned her head and looked out the window. The sun was setting far ahead of the plane, casting a golden-red glow over the sky. She turned back to the man, paused a minute than said in a husky low voice, “I don't even know your name.”

“My name is Joseph ... Joseph Schopenhauer.”

“Pleased to meet you Joseph ... Joseph Schopenhauer,” she smiled holding out her hand.

Joseph took hold of Francis' fingers and brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed it's back, whispering, “völlig mein Vergnügen Fräulein Francis.”

A questioning expression formed across Francis' face.

“I'm sorry ...,” Joseph said, “I said ... Entirely my pleasure, Miss Francis.”

Francis smiled, then laughed, tightening her grip on his hand slightly.

The stewardess appeared next to Joseph and asked, “We are serving a light snack. Can I get you something?”

Joseph looked up at the woman and said, “Do you have Champaign?”

“Yes sir.”

“Champaign for the young lady and myself, and a Cräcker and Brie platter if you have one.”

“Right away sir.”

“Thank you,” Joseph said with a smile.

Francis raised her hand to get the womans attention before she left.

“Yes Miss, is there something else that I mag get for you?”

“No, nothing else. I was just wondering, could you tell me when the berths will be made up.”

“About ten PM, I believe. Do you require to lay down sooner than that, Miss?”

“Oh no ... Ten will be just fine.”

Joseph looked at Francis, “You have arranged a berth?”

“Why yes, when I came to Europe I didn't, and was miserable. These seats are very comfortable, but after twelve or
fourteen hours they become very hard to set in. On the flight back I decided that a bed would be much better for my disposition.”

“I see, very wise decision then.”

“I take it that you are going to sleep in your seat.”

“Unless my Fairy Godmother comes along and whisks me away, yes.”

The stewardess brought the Champaign and cheese platter and Francis didn't peruse the sleeping arrangement conversation any further.

# # #

The two companions talked for the next two hours. Joseph told jokes and Francis laughed, they both laughed. Joseph ordered two more rounds of Champaign. Half way through her second glass Francis' temperament began to change, she became a bit lighter in spirit. Not drunk, but a little tipsy, just the same.

Just as the third glass of Champaign came Francis leaned over the arm of the seat and took Josephs hand into hers. She had a serious look on her face.

Joseph said, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, heavens no. Heavens no,” Francis grinned at him.

“What devilment has gotten into you then?”

Her grin became broader and she winked at him, “I couldn't help notice how, ummm ... in the men's room ... large, Ah, you ... ummm, big ... Ah, never mind. It's not something I should be talking to you about anyway." she stuttered, as her cheeks began to redden.

Joseph smiled at her. She quickly pulled a handkerchief from her bag and cover her mouth, as she quickly looking away from his gaze.

"Yes, Francis,” he picked up her other hand and began to pat the back side of it. He then brought her fingers to his lips and kissed each finger one, by one. When he had finished with her fingers, he turned her hand over and ever so gently kissed her palm. He then brought his mouth near her ear and whispered, “I've been told that it's somewhat larger than most."

"I really shouldn't be talking about this to a stranger." she murmured through the handkerchief she still held to her mouth.

"And why not?

"I don't know ... It's just that ..."

He held up his hand as if to stop her chain of thought, "After all, it's just a bit of anatomy ... all men are similarly constructed."

"I know," she glanced quickly at him, "it's just ... I don't really know you at all. It's not really a subject that strangers should discuss."

"Well, then we shall become ... not strangers, so that we may freely discuss what ever we please." He said laughing.

She began to giggle at his obvious distortion of the grammar.

He hold his hand up in a gesture to stop her, "Please call me Henry, it's my middle name, and only my most intimate friends call me Henry. And I feel, my dear Francis, that we shall become most intimate friends."

She grasps his hand tentatively, her own hand trembling a bit, "Pleased to meet you Henry; my name is Francis. My intimate friends call me Fran."

To put Francis a little more at ease, Joseph (now Henry), changed the subject, “Where in American are you from Miss Fran?"

"Why, I'm from Peoria."

"I'm not familiar with Peoria, where exactly is Peoria located?"

"In Illinois, not far from Chicago."

"Ah, yes. Chicago, I am familiar with this Chicago. From the Cinema ... all those gangsters."

"I don't think we have gangsters in Peoria."

Joseph looked up and down the isle and shifted his eyes back and forth as he looked at Francis. He then winked at her and said in a low voice, "Why in the world, would a beautiful young lady like yourself be traveling alone, in an awful place of intrigue and subterfuge, like Budapest."

"Oh my, you think I might be a spy ... don't you? What will the women back in Peoria think of that, I wonder?” She began to snicker and giggle. After a minute her face got serious and she continued, “Well I'm not a spy, and I'm afraid that Budapest was just a stop-over on my way to London. The tour group I was with had just come from Jerusalem and 'Holy lands' and before that we visited many historical sites along North Africa.

"Well, Madam. No, I don't believe you're spy, and as far as Budapest goes, you didn't missed much. The war took a terrible toll on the city; it's still such a mess. Even now after, what has it been, almost nine years."

“I'm afraid I didn't get to see much of the city; and the only person I had any conversation at all with, other than people of my tour group, was my maid at the hotel. The only sights I saw were during the taxi ride from the airport to the hotel and then back to the airport the next day.”

“As I said, you missed nothing. And you say you also visited North Africa?”

“Yes the Pyramids and the Sphinx were magnificent.”

“Someday I wish to see such sights.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the Stewardess, “Sorry to interrupt, but, Miss I just wanted to let you know that your berth is ready anytime you wish to use it. It's the lower birth on this side of the aircraft in the rear,” she pointed her arm to the rear of the plane, “It's marked number six. You may change in the washroom if you wish.”

Francis smiled at the Stewardess, “Thank you. But I believe I might stay up for a while longer, at least till I finish my glass of wine.”

“That's quite alright, there is no rush, anytime you wish will be just fine. If you wish I can bring more Champaign.”

“No, that won't be necessary,” Joseph spoke up.

“Well, if you need anything else, just press the buzzer and I'll be glad to help you.”

After the Stewardess had gone, Joseph looked at Francis and smiled, “You needn't stay up with me if you are tired.”

“No, I'm not tired and I do wish to finish my wine. Besides, I'm very much enjoying talking with you. I usually don't find it easy to talk with strangers, particularly strange men, but you; you're very easy for me to talk to.”

Joseph sipped that last of the wine in his glass, “You don't seem like the shy type to me.”

“If you had known me before this trip, you would be surprised at seeing me now. This trip has helped me a great deal, in dealing with many of my fears and insecurities. After my friend got sick and had to go back to the States. I found it difficult at first, being all by myself. But soon learned that if I wished to continue the trip, I would have to assume more control or I would be lost.”

“You seem quite confident now.”

“Not as much as I'd like, but worlds better that I was when I left Peoria.”

Joseph leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Francis also sank back into her seat, sipping her glass of wine. Joseph, still with his eyes closed reached over and took Francis' hand and squeezed it gently.

“I'm keeping you awake, aren't I. I should go to my birth so that you can go to sleep,” Francis said.

“Don't be silly, I was just remembering the look on your face in Budapest,” he turned his head to her and grinned.

“Shock and horror, I expect,” she said, blushing a bit.

“No, I don't think so ... if I had to guess. I'd say the look was more like fascination.”

Francis didn't say anything, she brought the half full glass of wine and finished it's contents in one gulp, then set the empty glass down on the tray in front of her. She turned to Joseph and said, “Your right, I was fascinated, by what I saw. Dose that make me a terribly bad person?”

“No, not at all ... just a human person, with an inquisitive mind,” he bent over and kissed her on the cheek.

“Will you help me with my overnight bag under the seat?”

“Surly,” he said as he rose from his seat. “If you get up I will get it for you.”

Francis got to her feet and stood in the isle as Joseph retrieved the bag. She motioned for him to take her seat by the window and she sat down in the seat he had occupied, setting the small case in the isle.

Francis looked at him and her face and chest began to turn reddish in color, “I don't know how to say this. I've never done anything like this before, but I've thought about it almost constance ever since Budapest.”

“What is it you want to say?”

She blushed even deeper red, and smiled, “Would you like to sleep in my birth?”

“But where will you sleep?”

“In my birth.” she grinned.

“Are you asking me, what I think you are asking me?”

“Yes, I hope it doesn't shock you,” she replied as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh,” was all he said. Then a second later he continued, “I didn't have a night shirt,” and then just sat there with his mouth open.

Francis brought the small case up onto her lap and opened it. She dug around in it's contents and then pulled out a pair of black silk pajamas and handed them to Joseph.

“We're close enough to the same size, that these will be good enough to get you from the washroom to the birth. After that you won't need them anymore.”

Without saying more or waiting for his reply or reaction she closed the bag and got to her feet.

Leaning over, she kissed him lightly on his still open mouth, “Give me a ten minutes to get ready.”

Francis turned and dashed down the isle.

Chapter 2