Król CASE XX Partial Partners

Author's Note: Since I began writing mysteries in the summer of 1977, I never considered the origin of my protagonist. Now in forced semiretirement, I have time to write his origin. In this mystery, he moves into a new neighborhood and meet his best buddy to solve the first mystery. They were like brothers until the tragedy of the Cynical Syndicate some thirteen years later. (C) Alopex, 2026 

The Monkees "I'm a Believer" (with lyrics)

Król and Hough first meet around age nine and become best buddies into adulthood. They become partners in solving crimes and often use the help of others to do so. In this one, the Króls move within the Wilkes-Barré area, and he first meets his lifelong friend and companion. Here the boys stumble upon suspicious activities during early 1967. 

Kind Of A Drag - The Buckinghams - with lyrics

I awoke in my own bed for the first time in over three years. The light of dawn was streaming through the bare windows in my bedroom.

Winter was losing its grip on this Monday. The windows showed a view of an approaching sunrise over the neighborhood houses. I smiled as I thought of how wide the view was compared to the cramped room I used for sleeping with two long windows which had shown the house next door. One frosted window, probably the bathroom, would light up and shine into the bedroom.

I must have lain in bed a good half hour before getting out of bed. Finally, I overcame the Bettschwere with an exhilarating thump on the floor of my new bedroom. I knew I would be walking to school along a different road, but it shouldn't take much longer on the same street from the opposite direction.

My bedroom led into the kitchen. An old coal stove sat next to gas burners. The table sat opposite to my left. I pulled a bowl from the cupboard and a spoon from a drawer. I opened the back door and retrieved the milk from the window sill. I came back in, sat down, and poured cereal into a bowl.

"Buddy, are you up?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Paul says he'll meet you on the front porch to walk to school. He said be there in fifteen minutes."

I finished the cereal, returned to my bedroom. Mom came in and showed me where my clothes were in the dresser and the closet. 

I felt so strangely disoriented as I put on underwear and socks. It dissipated as I picked out my shirt, tie, and pants. I had one pair of black shoes on the floor.

"I'll unpack the rest," Mom promised.

I had a flashback of when I was falling asleep. I was lying in my bed and through the doorway and beyond the stove while my aunt and mother tried to remove the advertisement on a hanging electric clock from the bar. Despite the furniture's having been moved over a month ago, Mom was too busy in the move to have done everything. before we moved in yesterday. Content to go to school as I had the past three years and the same classroom since September, I met my cousin for the routine day.

I mentioned to the teacher at lunch that I had finally left my grandparents. She gave me a sarcastic statement. That evening, I did my homework in the livingroom, instead of the kitchen table.

We moved so fast we had given up luxuries. Besides lacking a refrigerator, we had no hot water. Mom said she didn't know how to set up the coal burner in the heater. Besides the system needed a new faucet in the bathroom.

That Friday evening, Mom set up huge pans on the gas stove to boil water then throw it into the bathtub and add cold water.  

 

I met Paul at the front porch where the front door and the door at the bottom of the stairs met.

"So, Paul, who walks to school this way?"

"I'll introduce you to the walkers."

We walked down the hill to the main street, passing the railroad tracks. Going to school the opposite way took about as long.

"Hey, Paul! Wait up!" I heard behind us.

"Hurry, Don. It's already  quarter after eight."

Don caught us just past the tracks.

"I didn't know you'd moved, Buddy."

Don was a ginger with curly hair and freckles. I extended my left hand.

Don gave me a funny look. "Buddy, are you left-handed?"

I felt embarrassed. "I'm not used to handshakes."

Don extended his freckled left hand.

"Give me your freckled left hand. We have two traits in common", he commented as he slapped my shoulder with his right hand.

"You must come over to the fourplex sometimes to play," Paul interjected.

"Sunday after Mass," Don suggested. "After we go for the Sunday newspaper."

I meet my best buddy Don Hough.

PENNY LANE (LYRICS) - The Beatles

After we left the church, Don followed us outside. We were walking to the store for the newspaper.

"I'll be by a bit later," he said.

Mom sent me to get a paper while she talked to my aunt. Paul and I bought the newspapers.

"Why did you buy two?" Mom scolded. "I'm not paying a dollar every Sunday for Sunday papers!"

"You didn't say which paper," I retorted.

"Just get the Independent."

The four of us walked up the hill after another store visited. 

"Play until lunch," Mom said.

I looked around the yard. Winter was starting to fade, but it looked like the season. The bare grass had spots of snow. The playground set sat metallic and cold. Paul and I tried the swings, but it was too uncomfortable.

Don came to join us with another boy. 

"This is my friend Tom Lupino."

"Don and Tom, this is my cousin Paul. He lives in the apartment above us," I introduced. "Don't I know you from somewhere? Aren't you in my class?"

Tom gave me a dimpled smile.

"Buddy, I didn't know you'd moved. Don didn't reveal where we were going."

"Shake left hands," Don teased. "He's a freckled lefty like me, It's our secret handshake."

"But I'm right-handed," Tom protested.

"You still have freckles. As a strawberry blond, you're midway between Buddy and me."

"Okay, I'll shake lefty," Tom  agreed.

The three of us shook lefty together with freckled hands.

 

We really learned about each other over the next month. We were in the same grade at school and walked there and back often. We consulted each other on homework and over the lush we had for a teacher.

Then in late March before the weather warmed, Mom told me that she'd be gone all day. 

"Rather than leave you alone all day, I've arranged for you to go to the bar with your friends."

"Good, I wanted to show Don and Tom around the bar. The woods around it should be good for exploring."

Happy Together // The Turtles ; (Lyrics) 🎵

I speak to a neighborhood boy named Tom Lupino on a Sunday morning.

The three of us went down to the unfinished basement of the bar. The land sloped sharply, so the basement opened to the ground one floor lower than the front of the building. 

"How far are we going into the woods?" Tom inquired.

"We're walking straight through only a short distance," Don explained. "So we don't get lost."

"We should have set up a picnic," I contemplated. "We could have packed knapsacks."

We walked for about ten minutes along a trail. I saw that Don was curious. Then he stopped. I walked up to him and put my left hand on his right shoulder.

"Look. There's a house back here; I wondered why there was a trail back here."

"I see it too, buddy," I squinted at the building.

"It looks abandoned," Tom noted as he joined us. 

 

It was a one-story house with broken windows and a back door ajar. It looked abandoned about a year.

"Done about a year ago," Don interrupted my thought. "Let's explore inside."

I rolled my eyes as if to find the answer. Don gave me a smirk, patted my back, and moved ahead. Wordlessly, I followed. Tom looked concerned, but then joined us.

We walked into the back without touching anything. Don stopped at the first room.

"I doubt if we'd find any food in this kitchen."

I passed him and led them into a livingroom.

We find an open and damaged house near the bar.

Don put his left hand on my left shoulder.

"Let me lead, Buddy. I'm experienced in abandoned houses."

Behind him, Tom added, "Isn't a place this abandoned at least a little dangerous?"

"Okay, Don. You can lead. Are we viewing the bedroom or the bathroom?"

"Bathroom -- It should be in the back like the kitchen."

Curiosity took Tom as he moved to the front of the house.

"Buddy and I are checking out the upstairs."

"I'm looking for the basement."

"Probably the stairs under here from the kitchen."

"Don, why the bathroom?"

"I want to see if there'd still be water in the toilet. It should clue us how long it's been abandoned."

We ascended the stairs gingerly over creaking.

"The steps seem to be in good order. The front bedroom looks as though some squatters spent some time here. It was probably too cold during the winter."

I picked up a scattered newspaper.

"Don, it's dated last September."

"I told you so, Buddy. See, some of the food wrappers are still iced. It must have rained through the broken glass before the frost froze them."

Don then led me into the bathroom. The water had ice in it, but the bowl showed traces of sediment higher than the water level.

"Water expands when it freezes," Don noted. 

"I've seen enough. Let's get Tom and leave."

"Good idea, Bud. We've done our exploring."

As we descended the stairs, Tom met us at the bottom. 

"Do you hear something?"

I pricked my ears. "No, what was the sound?"

"I heard twigs' snapping."

"It could have been an animal," Don surmised.

"I'm surprised we didn't find any here," I followed.

"I'm not in the mood to check the basement," Tom cautioned.

We didn't either. We three proceeded to the back of the house. We were in sight of the back door when a man appeared.

"What're you kids' doing here?"

Don stepped forward. "We saw the back door had been smashed in, so we decided to see if anyone lived here."

"Do you know who smashed the door and the windows?"

"No," I jumped in. "We were out exploring the area."

"Are you the owner?" Tom slipped in.

"I'd like to get a hold of the vandals. Are you boys from around here?"

"No, we're from Ashley. My father owns the bar on the parkway."

"Oh, the lounge. So, You're the Król boy."

"I'm Buddy. These are my buddies., Don Hough and Tom Lupino."

"Then you're George Król Junior. Tell your father to be alert for those vandals."

"Yes, sir. I will. It's time for us to return anyway."

As we walked away. Don took us aside.

"I don't trust that man."

I felt my mouth drop.

"Buddy, don't give us away. Let's get out of eyeshot as well as earshot."

"How did you know?"

"We saw your dimples in the frown," Tom replied.

 

The next week passed without incident. On Saturday, the three of us were playing outside in a cool afternoon when a police car pulled up to the bar. We thought nothing of it until a second car pulled up. The same man was in the second car and pointed at us.

I was stunned, Tom looked puzzled, and Don drew a suspicious gaze at the police. Three policemen came over and grabbed us. I don't ever remember feeling that scared. Were they kidnapping us? It was useless to struggle as they each wrapped a belt around our waists, put us in handcuffs, and marched us into the cars.

My mind raced, hoping my father could see us from inside the bar. I was so fare secco that I couldn't scream. The man in the car warned us. "They'd gag you if you should yell!"

My captor shoved me alone in the back with the man in the front. He turned around and glared at me.

"I'm going to have you boys prosecuted!"

I felt both scared and helpless. I stared down at my freckled fists in the cuffs. I felt dizzy and passed out. 

Tom, Don, and I are arrested, belt cuffed, and about to face Judge Brennan.

The next thing I remember was a policeman's shaking my left shoulder.

"Son, we're here. Let's go!"

I slowly opened my eyes and saw a district judge's office. He nudged me once more and picked my up legs, turned them, and placed them outside the vehicle.

The feeling of my sneakers hit the ground put me at full attention. He helped me get up by pulling my shoulders. My cuffed wrists were attached to the belt, so I couldn't use my hands to exit the vehicle. He smiled and patted my back.

"I'm just doing my duty, son. I have a blond boy like you at home, but you're more handsome."

I almost smiled at the remark.

The police pulled Tom and Don out the back of the other car. Both gave me worried smiled as they led us into the building. They put us in a courtroom and sat us down. We didn't speak, afraid of making the situation worse.

Two of the police stayed in the back of the room The other spurred us to stand when the judge entered.

The judge was a middle-age man, gave us a peculiar look, turned to the  policeman.

"What are these juveniles charged?"

"Vandalism; here's the indictment."

"Where's the probable cause of the arrests?"

Here's the complaint, Your Honor. The owner of the house found these juveniles coming out of the house."

"How did they enter the house?"

"It was a smashed backdoor."

The judge looked puzzled. "How old are the defendants?"

Nine and ten"

"The owner thinks they smashed into the house?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Where's the owner, the plaintiff?"

"He left."

"What? Where's the proof? It's obvious that the house was already damaged when they entered. Were all the windows smashed and when?"

"He didn't say in the complaint."

"Have their parents been informed?"

"I don't know. There's no indication."

The judge became angry and spoke to us. "Sons, something doesn't make sense."

Then he turned to the policeman.

"Who signed the indictment?"

"The district attorney, Sam Cavanaugh."

"Therefore there was no grand jury and no evidence! An open backdoor is a public nuisance."

"It's in a woods near San Souci Parkway."

"What? Get the plaintiff! I want to speak to him!"

"I'll need your chambers."

"Fine, Meanwhile, have the defendants sit while I clear this case. It won't be the first time Wonka used his influence with the district attorney."

We waited in abeyance. I looked at my new buddies.

"No matter what happens, we're in it together."

Don gave me a smile, and even Tom grinned.

 "Buddy, I'd hug you and Tom if we weren't in belted cuffs."

"Yeah, I guess we're the belted-cuffed, freckled fists."

I felt like a brother to my buddies.

 

The judge left the bench for about ten minutes, then he came out furious.

"Take off the cuffs and belts and take those boys back where you found them!"

My wrists still felt sore, but we had a group hug. My policeman escorted us to one car. 

"One of you could sit up front."

"No, we'll share the back," Don spoke for us.

Our policeman was all smiles when he left us off.

"Wonka has been an egomaniac. I'm glad you're out of this mess. I never doubted it."

"I hope the next time we meet, it'll be better circumstances."

"So do I; bye, boys."

 Dad came out of the bar when the police car left.

„Tato, to długa historia” – ostrzegłem.

("Dad, it's a long story," I warned.)

„Dad examined us.

„ Synu, masz czerwoną twarz. -- Płakałeś. Co się stało z twoimi nadgarstkami?”

("Son, thy face is red. -- Hast been crying. What happened to thy wrists?")

"We were arrested and belt cuffed," Don interjected.

"Arrested for what?"

"Because we were found in that damaged house," Tom added.

Dad almost cried while suppressing his anger. He grabbed me into a hug. His warm arms on my back felt good.

"Boys, go the the bar. I'll serve you some soda."

"Mister Król, is there something you could do?" Don added. "There must be something wrong with arresting us for nothing. The judge said something about a public nuisance."

"Don, it means the owner is liable for any injuries should children enter."

Don made a grin, his face paled behind his freckles.

"Wouldn't he be liable for having us arrested?"

Dad thought about it. 

"Let me ask my lawyer. Meanwhile, don't mention the arrest to anyone, or did they inform your parents?"

"They informed no one. The judge didn't like it.," Tom told him as Dad brought us three soda glasses.

"That's very strange. So, I'm not the only one. Don't they think minors have rights? What did Wonka say?"

"He told me in the police car that he would have us prosecuted," I finally spoke.

"How about when he was in court?"

"Wonka wasn't there. The judge didn't like it either," Don continued.

"Which judge was there?"

"I heard and saw his name is Brennan," I reported.

"It's an Irish enclave in Ashley. Anyway, I'll take you boys home when your mother gets here." 

 

We heard nothing the next week until Saturday, Mom was taking classes on Saturdays, so the three of us were playing near the bar. 

The kind policeman walked into the room. Tom, Don, and I were sitting the dining room, listening to the juke box. Don saw him first, and I saw his face pale behind his freckles.

"Buddy, wasn't he was the one who drove Wonka and you to the courtroom and drove us back here?"

Tom had already a stunned look on his face.

I turned around in the chair.

"Don, you're right."

We sat as he walked up to the bar and said something to my father. He came out from the bar, and they walked into the kitchen in the back.

After ten minutes, they both came back out, and my father refreshed drinks at the bar. Both looked pleased. My mind raced through what had happened. Don's face showed the same while Tom looked confused.

"Let's wait until he leaves," Don suggested.

The officer remained at the bar, so we left to play outside. Soon Dad called us in, and my mother drove us home. 

"I wish you were older so I could trust you to take care of yourselves," Mom told us.

"We'll explore the back again on Saturday," Don proposed.

"Don, have you forgotten that Easter is next weekend. Aren't you boys going to the movies on Sunday?"

Don paused. "That's right! Which flick are we going to see?"

"The Man Called Flintstone", Tom replied.

"It's in color," I joined in.

"Then April Fools' Day we'll hike," Don corrected. 

Holy week passed, we played in the neighborhood the next full week off from school. Little did we know that our encounter with Sir Wonka wasn't the last one.

We explore the backwoods of the bar again. 

The day began cloudy and remained so when Mom drove us to the bar. I sat in the front and my buddies in the back.

"Buddy, Dad has something to tell you about your hike. He has instructions."

I must have looked puzzled.

"There's that dimpled frown," Don told Tom.

I gave them a noisome glance. The bar opened at 1 PM, so we had the afternoon. We arrived at the parking lot just before opening. Dad greeted us, then took me back into the kitchen.

Synu, chcę, żebyś wiedział, że funkcjonariusz Ratco chce wiedzieć, kiedy ty i twoi kumple znów wybierzecie się do lasu. Właśnie go o tym powiadamiam. Nie chcę, żebyście wpadali w panikę – po prostu uważajcie.

(Son, I want thee to know Office Ratco wants to know when thou and thy buddies go back into the woods. I'm alerting him now. I don't want ye to panic, just be careful.)

Tato, czy policja podejrzewa, że Wonka jest nieuczciwy, i czy przypadkiem w coś wpadliśmy?

(Dad, do the police suspect Wonka is crooked, and we stumbled into something?)

Tak, synu. Daj znać swoim kumplom, jeśli będzie taka potrzeba

(Yes, son. Let thy buddies know if it should be necessary.)

Dzięki, tato, że o nas dbasz.

(Thanks, Dad, for looking out for us.)

Dad smiled, gave me a hug as I thought it was nice. The back straps of my overalls added to his touch.

With that knowledge, my buddies were curious.

"What did your dad say?" Don started the inquiry.

"He  reminded us to be careful of abandoned buildings."

"Did he tell you what the policeman said?" Tom Joined.

"He told me the policeman's name is Ratco, and he wants us to keep alert in the woods. We have some protection this time."

"It sounds as though there be corruption in the local government. Remember how angry the judge was?" Don thought.

"It also suggests this Sir Wonka be a vindictive opponent," Tom continued. "We should be careful of open houses."

We find another abandoned house in better shape than the one in the background.

We had just come out into an opening. In the distance was a dilapidated house in the background. It looked as though no one had lived there in more than a decade.

"Oh, no, not again!" Tom vocalized our thoughts.

"It can't be safe with that roof,: Don observed.

"We have no way of knowing whether Wonka would own that building, guys. It looks like a building taken over and just not razed," I warned.

"There's another old house nearby," Tom indicated.

I started walking toward it, but Don grabbed my right shoulder, and I stopped and raised my left hand toward it.

"It looks better than the other one. Let's approach it cautiously. I wanted a peek from the outside."

We slowly moved toward the building. The roof looked warn, but it wasn't full of holes like the other building. Don approached a back window and looked in.

I saw his freckled face blanche. I walked up to him and placed my dominant left hand on his right shoulder.

"What do you see, buddy?"

Slowly he came out of his reverie. "Buddy, it's not what I see; It's what I feel, Something is strange about this house,, and I can't express it."

I took a sniff, turned to my companions, and gave them a suspicious look.

"Do you smell that?"

Tom in haled deeply. His freckled nose twitched.

"It smells like cleaning fluid. Why would the place this neglected seem like cleaning fluid?"

"I suggest we find out before we go into the place," Don suspected. "It might be dangerous like gas.

"It smells sweet to me," I reported. "Dad told us to be cautious, so let's leave."

We walked back to the bar. I presented the problem.

"I'm no chemist, but you boys stumbled onto something. It can't be gas. Propane has a specific scent mixed to detect it. It could be something toxic like mold. I'll check around to help you out," Dad told  us.

"Thanks, Mister Król," Don smiled wryly., "I didn't think an unused building would still have gas. The company would have turned it off months ago." 

"We still use coal at home," I explained. "So I don't know what gas smells like."

"Like this bar," Dad added. "It's quite a task keeping a coal furnace going throughout the winter."

"Is there someplace we can find out what it is?" Tom asked.

Dad paused. "I intend to check with the authorities first."

"Until then, we'd better stay away," Don advised.

Two weeks passed into midmonth. Nothing further happened. This time we hiked back into the area. The dilapidated house still stood, and the mysterious house beckoned us. It seemed to dare us to come inside.

"Nothing seems to have happened. Perhaps we could just look around," I spoke up what we were thinking.

 Don grabbed my shoulder again. I raised my dominant hand again. It seemed a rerun, but I couldn't wait much longer.

 "We'll check out  whether the smell is still there." I could see Don's weakening with Tom's willing to follow up.

 "Okay, but the first sign of trouble, we leave fast."

My buddies start to get worried about our presence in the abandoned house.

Like the previous house, the backdoor was smashed in. Unlike it, the house had been abandoned much longer. Plaster was off the walls. I led us into what looked like a livingroom. There were open parts of the floor, revealing the basement. Tom looked closely. The scent wafted through the openings. 

"Guys, there are barrels in the basement."

"Barrels? Why would there be barrels in the basement?" Don wondered. "I see them, " he confirmed with Tom.

"Then we must take a quick look," I concluded. See where the stairs to the upped floor were, I walked back to the kitchen and found the stairs and descended carefully.

"Wait for us, Buddy," Don commanded.

They caught up to me at the bottom of the stairs. Barrels stacked along a wall in the basement. Tom brought his flashlight to the barrels. It showed a hazardous warning. There was a toxic mixture in the barrels!

Tom recoiled, handing the flashlight to Don. He started  ascending the stairs.

"We'll join you after I look more closely at the label," Don spoke while examining the script. 

"It says Agent Orange," I helped.

"Isn't that the herbicide used in Vietnam?"

"I've heard of it. It's toxic. Let me look further while you get out of here. Give me the flashlight and five minutes, then we must tell my dad."

"Okay, Buddy, but keep it short. This place gives me the creeps."

I tried to find any other clues as to what Agent Orange was. I found a caution on dioxins and its hazard. What could be the reason for someone to store such toxic materials? Then it hit me; Perhaps the other house had these same materials in the basement! It would explain why Wonka was so hard on us. -- to deter other boys from exploring the house! I was beginning to think Don's intuition was rubbing off on me. I must discuss it on the way back to the bar.

With that thought -- and I shouldn't be exposed to toxic chemicals -- I stood up and ascended. I went through the kitchen and out the backdoor, but neither Don nor Tom was there. 

Could they have gone already instead of waiting for me? I called their names, shrugged my shoulders, and started back.

Then I felt hands on the back of my shoulders.

"Don, don't scare me like that..."

Then I felt a rag over my nose and mouth. My hands went up to it immediately. The grip was overwhelming! I couldn't breathe through the sweet smell. It was the scent we had encountered weeks ago, I felt like drowning, then weaker, and finally I lost consciousness.

The boys stumble upon a mystery in April 1967.

Dad was busy with the bar. When Mom came to pick us up, both parents realized how late it was.

"Maybe they're in the basement," Mom guessed. She walked to the top of the stairs.

"Buddy, Don, Tom? Are you down there?"

Mom descended the stairs and repeated at the doorway to outside. She began to worry. There was no sign of us. Mom ascended, walked through the kitchen, then to the bar. 

George, when did Buddy and his friends leave?"

"They left when I opened the bar."

"It's past 5; They've been gone four hours!"

"I hope they didn't enter another abandoned house. They could have fallen through a gap."

"Didn't you inform the police when they left?"

"You're right. I'd better inform them the boys didn't return."

Hours later, Don and Tom's parents were calling the bar. Dad suffered much recrimination until the police intervened. When Dad closed the bar, we were still missing. He vowed to help search for us because the bar was closed on Sundays

The three fathers met at the bar the next morning.

"They didn't go straight because of the arrest," Dad said.

Mister Hough wasn't so sure.

"I want a look at that house."

The three fathers found the house straight along the path and the smashed-in backdoor. They entered through the kitchen, then the livingroom, then the upstairs. They saw what we had the previous month.

"Let's check the basement," Dad led them back to the kitchen.

"George, we can't. The door is locked. Did the boys ever say they'd gone down the basement?"

"No, Wonka encountered them as they were leaving after going upstairs. The basement could've been locked then."

"Well, we don't want to damage this place further. Wonka would sue us. Let's search elsewhere," Mister Lupino concluded.

The men looked for another house, couldn't find another house, and retreated to the bar,

"I'll check with the police," Dad said while passing out beer at the bar. "They might have some clues as to what happened to the boys. We're going to have let them handle the matter."   

 

Francis Clark was walking home along the factory on Mary Street. The sun had set, and dusk filled the streets. In the tenebration the boy saw a man come out of a car parked in front of a double block. He appeared to lift a small figure and take it into the side alee to Brown Street. Francis stopped and ducked behind a bush.

A few minutes later, the man went into the car and again picked up a small bundle and took it in. Francis took a chance, ran across the street and looked inside the car. He recognized a boy in his class! Fear gripped him, so he sprinted back to  his hideout.

The man again took the bundle out and into the double block. After he went into the double block, Francis walked home to Manhattan Street and contemplated what to do. 

When he arrived home, Mister Clark noted his mood.

"What's wrong, son?"

Francis looked at the floor.

"I don't know whether I could tell you."

He placed his arm around his son.

"You can tell me, buddy."

Francis raised his eyes and looked at his father.

"I think I'd seen a man take three boys into that double block on the corner of Mary and Brown Street."

His father patted his back and gave him a dimpled smile.

"Tell me more, son."

"A man came out of a parked car and carried three small figures into the double block."

"Which side?"

"The side with the broken windows and damaged backdoor."

Mister Clark thought a few minutes.

"They could have been repair pieces."

"No, I saw a classmate lying in the back. I think it had been Tom Lupino. Could the man have killed them?"

"Son, he'd have to bury the bodies. Why would he bring them to a vacant house, particularly on the damaged side? Do you think he'd bury them in the backyard?"

"Dad, I'm scared. What If he'd seen me?"

Mister Clark hugged his son.

"Let's wait and see what happens before your imagination runs wild. See if he should attend Mass tomorrow."

When Tom wasn't at the Mass for the students, the Clarks looked for the Lupinos, who weren't there. Mister Clark called the Lupinos that morning. Mrs Lupino answered.

"No, he's not here. His father went to look for him behind Sans Souci Parkway.

"Is he lost?"

"Yes, with Buddy and Don."

"What happened?"

Mrs Lupino narrated the hike and how none of us ever had come back. Mister Clark became both curious and worried. Had Francis discovered a kidnaping or worse? He had to know, but how? He instructed the Lupinos let him know if the three fathers would find the boys.

"Francis, we're going for a Sunday stroll this afternoon. I want you to show me where you saw the incident."

"Are we going up Brown Street to Mary Street?"

"No, we'll walk along Green Street and walk from the other side. We'll get a better view from the damaged side of the double block."

When father and son approached the house, Mister Clark had an idea.

"Son, have you ever played on the hill next to the house?"

"No, Dad."

"I want you to pretend you're showing me your play area along the trees and rocks."

We find ourselves captive in the back of another abandoned house. (I can't do an artel of the scene.)

I was sitting in an empty room and leaning against a wall. I was sitting up. As my head cleared and my vision came back, I heard voices from below.

"You can't kill three boys. They must be searching for them."

"What else could we do, Sheriff? What do you suggest?"

"I can't keep covering up for you, Wonka. I closed my eyes to your smuggling, but I told you it would happen one day."

"I could set a fire on the two buildings with the boys in one of them."

"I'll have no part in murdering children."

"Rasmussen, you're in deep with accepting bribes."

Just then, my vision cleared. Under my bound boots, my wrists were bound together and to my legs. I felt a ball gagging my mouth.

A glance across the room revealed both my buddies hogtied from behind and cleave gagged. A shock made me realize how much in danger we were. 

I figured we were in a back bedroom of a vacant house. Unlike the other properties, the windows were normal. It was daylight and appeared morning. My buddies were awake.

Don rolled on his right side from his prone position. He was signaling to crawl over to him. Downstairs the voices continued, but they appeared to lessen, then I heard the front door close and lock.

Slowly I changed my sitting position to get closer to my ginger pal. He used his head to nod toward his pants. Then I figured it out.

 

Dad and the other fathers had finished the beers, and Dad was about ready to go, when the phone rang. Mrs Lupino was calling.

"Mister Król?"

"Speaking"

"Good, you're back. I received a call from the Clarks. Francis said that he had seen a man take three bundles that looked like the boys into the double block on the corner of Brown and Mary."

"Why didn't they tell us?"

"Francis wasn't sure. When the boys didn't show up at Mass, then they decided to investigate the house this afternoon. 

"Keep the faith and keep us informed. I'm going to call John Ratco, who wants any updates."

"What was that all about?" Mister Hough spoke.

"Apparently the Clarks may have a lead. I'm passing on the information. I want to know who is the owner of that double block on Brown and Mary Streets."

"Say, isn't it also Sir Wonka's? Wasn't that the side by the hill also damaged? He seems to be crusading against vandals."

Dad paused with this revelation.

"Something untoward is happening here. Why does he own so many properties so dilapidated?"

"I think it's time we investigate that property in Ashley."

"Let's wait for the Clarks to report what they find," Dad suggested. "Nothing suggests that we can't check it tonight afterwards."

"I'll call you both once my wife knows how the investigation went this afternoon," Mister Lupino promised.

"By that time, we should have some police backup," Dad added. "We'll be in a stronger position."

"I have a feeling our sons many be in danger, but I know Don is resourceful."

 

"Francis, crawl up that tree and and peek into the windows on the upper floor."

"I can see into the rooms, but they appear empty."

"Dad, there is a man at the backdoor of the other side."

"Okay, son. Come down and we'll walk past the front and down Brown Street to Manhattan."

As they walked past the other side, they saw the front door ajar. On the side was a sheriff's car. Mister Clark noted it as they passed. Why would someone call the sheriff and not the police? Theses questions persisted as they walked home.

"Something is wrong," Mister Clark reported as Francis and he came in the front door "Let me call the Króls to pass it along to the police. Someone should watch that side of the house tonight."

When Dad heard about it and shared that Sir Wonka owned the double block, he decided to take a risk.

"Would Francis be willing to take a chance within the hour?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Could he just go into the house from the broken backdoor and look for signs of the boys."

"Let's be sure the owner isn't there."

"Right, I'll have the three of us drive by every fifteen minutes for any parked cars. We should at least eliminate that location. John Ratco said he'll watch from a distance." 

"Does Sir Wonka have any other properties?"

"No, just his home. It's why I'm so suspicious. Our sons could be without food or drink the past day. I think we have probably cause for a search, but Ratco wants us to be careful, especially with a sheriff involved. It could be a  wholesale corrupt system."

 

The pocketknife that Don had in his pocket was too difficult for me to fish out. Don kept shifting his body, but we had to quit, especially when Wonka came upstairs to check on us.

"You boys must have had a nice long sleep after that dose of chloroform. I still don't know what to do with you nosy boys. By now your families must know you're missing. Fortunately, I have a property elsewhere. I'll move you tomorrow to a final place before I have the evidence removed and the buildings destroyed."

That sounded ominous to me. Wonka made no move to feed us nor maintain our bound bodies. It was already in the middle of the afternoon.

Then we heard Wonka leave and lock the door behind him. I looked at Don, and he flashed a determined look in his eyes. He nodded, and we tried again.

Don tried jerking his body, but the knife still wouldn't come out. However, I finally succeeded in locating it in his pocket. It was approaching sunset. Don then stopped moving his hips and lay still on his right side.

My fingers slowly pushed the knife from the bottom of the pocket forward. I gave it a shove several time, then I finally pushed it out.

Don flexed his hands. I managed to get it into his left hand, and he began cutting his bonds. I stayed in place in case he'd dropped it. 

 After about five minutes, Don succeeded in freeing his wrists. Tom, who had been watching our antics, let out a sigh of relief through the cleave gag. The sun was setting as Don freed his legs, then pulled off the gag.

After another five minutes, we were all free. Don walked to the bedroom door. 

"It's locked." he reported.

 

Francis approached the double block about fifteen minutes after Wonka had left the premises. John Ratco was across the street in an ordinary vehicle. The fathers were in another car across Brown Street. It was just after sunset, and Francis was through the broken backdoor.

He went through the downstairs, then upstairs. He called out the boys' names. No one there. It was nerve wracking to be there. No, they couldn't be up in the attic, but maybe the basement?

Francis returned to the kitchen. He tried the door. It was locked. Francis called the boys' names. Still nothing.

The three fathers were observing the other side. As dusk began to to fall, Dad noticed something.

"I saw something move in the back bedroom!"

"Where?" asked Mister Hough.

"The side window, I saw something move!"  

The three fathers were about to get out of the vehicle when a car reappeared.

"Wonka's beck," Dad noted.

"Let's wait and see where he goes into the building."

"Ratco is probably thinking the same," Mister Lupino added.

Wonka walked up to the nearer side and unlocked the door. He turned on a light, and the light came on the stairs.

Meanwhile, they also saw Mister Clark run across Mary Street to greet Francis who was coming out the other side of the block.

The three fathers then existed the car, went over to the police. When Francis heard about it, he asked, "Could I go into the other side? The door is ajar."

"Okay, but we'll be right behind you."

"I must stay outside right now, for I don't think I have probable cause for a warrantless search."

Sir Wonka locked the bedroom door from the outside!

Don’t You Care [The Buckinghams] 1967; Lyrics / Con Letra. [Video by Abraham Zaslavsky]

I grabbed the doorknob and gritted teeth as the door would not yield. Don place his right hand on my right shoulder.

"Buddy, we don't have the strength to pull open the door, and there are no tools to force the lock.". 

"It's a long drop from this back window," Tom noted. "Maybe we could use the ropes to get down."

Don was looking out the side window.

"That sheriff's back! Wonka must have returned!"

"We may have to run for it," I suggested. "The two of them can't stop the three of us."

"What'll we use for a weapon when they unlock the door?" Tom looked around.

"It's simple," Don responded. "We'll use the door."

My eyes lit up as the thought hit me.

"How're we going to do it?"

"Two of us will stand behind the door. Then we push the door against them, knocking them off balance. We go over them, running for the stairs. Then we escape by three different directions."

We heard the footfalls on the stairs. Someone was ascending, but was it in the dark or the light as the bedroom was slowly darkening in the dusk? 

Don and I lurked behind where the door would open. We motioned for Tom to jump out first, and he was nervous.  Then we heard the key turn the lock. We stepped back so we'd have a maximum impulse on Wonka.

However, as Wonka swung open the door, he had a flashlight which blinded Tom. We didn't have time to delay, so we slammed him with the door.   As we ran around the door, he had only staggard backwards. Don and I gave him a push, and he lost his balance. As he crumbled to the floor, we ran past him to the stairs.

Tom recovered his sight, but Wonka was getting up. Tom tried to push him down again, but Wonka quickly grabbed him and covered his face with a rag. Tom felt his wrath.
"Boys," Wonka yelled at the stairwell. I have your buddy. The Sheriff is at the front door!"

"No," Francis rebuked. "I am at the front door!"

"What?" Wonka practically screamed.

"Francis," Don and I both recognized simultaneously. 

 "I'll kill your buddy!"

"No , you won't," Mister Clark challenged. "All three of their fathers are right behind me"

Wonka took the semiconscious ruddy blond boy to the edge of the banister. Somehow Tom managed to push back the rag Wonka tried to place over his mouth again. Wonka lost his balance and fell to the floor. Tom held onto the banister, and Don and I ran up to help him.

"Wake up, buddy. It's Buddy and Don."

Tom was still dizzy. We held him up. Then we moved to the staircase and sat him down on the floor. Francis joined us and had a puzzled look.

"What happened?"

"Francis, it's a long story," Don answered smiling. "How did you know we were here?"

Francis just smiled. "I recognized Tom when he was in the car unconscious after he took you both into this double block."

"We're in a double block? Where?"

"Brown and Mary Street"

"That double block in Ashley?"

"We didn't even recognize it. The other side still has smashed windows and a caved-in backdoor," I joined in. 

By this time, Tom was fully conscious.

"Francis, am I glad to see you!"

By this time, the three fathers were inside. Tom was able to stand, and we supported him as we descended the stairs. Our fathers stood at the bottom of the stairs ready to hug.

John Ratco passed us as he ascended to arrest Wonka. He had called to Ashley police for backup. After he removed Wonka, he came back.

"Boys, I need you to tell me what happened. It's a Sunday evening, so I need you at the station tomorrow."

"We'll miss school," I noted. 

"You have an excuse. In fact, you boys should be praised for helping to solve this smuggling crime."

"In that case, we'll be there.," Don confirmed. "Given that we helped solve crimes, it makes us partial partners with the police and with each other. 

Tom gave him a dimpled smile and place a hand on both our shoulders.

"So, when's our next case?"

We all started laughing.

"Let's get this caper done first," John Ratco pointed out.

"You boys must be tired and hungry," Dad concluded. "We should all go home and take care of our freed sons."

Then Dad hugged me again.

"Son, I'm proud of you. Once I get the bar settled, I'm going to buy us a permanent home for Mom and you."

I felt my dimples pop in my cheeks. I felt so good I was speechless. There I was with loving parents, two best buddies, and instrumental in solving a dangerous crime.

"Officer, what do they use Agent Orange for?"

"It's a defoliate to destroy jungles in Vietnam. Wonka had been storing stolen barrels of it. Thanks to you boys, I have probable cause to search the dilapidated houses, including this double block." 

Francis then spoke up.

"Do you need me tomorrow?"

The officer smiled and patted his back.

"Son, you're the key to this case. Had you not seen Wonka when he had kidnaped the boys, they'd be trapped in this house. We still wouldn't know where they were."

"Good, I would rather not see the teacher another day."

"She's an alcoholic who is really mean with a hangover," Mister Hough explained to the officer.

"She tried to embarrass me in front of the fifth grade until I threatened to tell my father and reminded her that my cousin was in the class," I added.

"Francis could join out group," Don proposed. "He could be another partial partner."

"I think after what we've been through the past weekend, I don't want another adventure in my lifetime," Dad complained lugubriously. 

"Still, we should add Francis. Could we call him Frank?" I followed.

"That's my father's name."

"How about a nickname? I have the same problem I didn't want to be "little George" or "Georgy", so I'm Buddy."

Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons - Beggin' (Official Lyric Video)

With that we left the double block. The corrupt sheriff talked himself out of the immediate mess, but the subsequent investigation led to uncovering his roll in covering up the smuggling of toxic chemicals. Wonka fenced stolen items through connection with the Coin Chemical Company. It would not be the only time with this nexus.

We resumed our lives the rest of spring only to stumble upon another illegality. Francis become Frank with us and this time the partial partners were four of us.

My new buddy and hero, Francis Clark

The next adventure in 1967 will include our new buddy. I schedule it for 2028.