Back to Boston

Ian ventures to Boston once again, but this time he has a destination. His first stop? Jack's house.

After a couple more weeks, I'd sold the house. I spent the profit I made on a plane ticket. When I got to Boston, the first place I went was to Jack's house. He said, "What are you doing back here, Johnny?"

"I just-"

"Well hurry up, get in here before Anne gets here!"

"Does she live with you?" I asked, stepping inside.

"No, but she thinks she does."

"Oh," I chuckled. I followed him into the living room and sat down. "So I had a few questions about Eleanor," I decided, "and I figured you might be able to answer them for me."

"Sure."

"But first, can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure. It's right around the corner."

"I thought the downstairs bathroom didn't work?"

"Anne called in a plumber. It works now."

"Oh. Okay, thanks." I went into his bathroom and waited a few minutes before flushing the toilet. I had to think of another excuse to go upstairs.

First, I went back into the living room and asked some pointless questions about Eleanor, most of which I had already known the answer to. Then I said, "Wait a second." He frowned. "Did you hear that?"

"No, I didn't hear anything."

"It sounds like rats!"

"Rats? What are you talking about? There's no rats in here."

"I'm an exterminator, and I know rats when I hear them. Trust me."

"Okay. I guess I'll call somebody."

"Oh, that's not necessary. I can take care of them right now. If it's a small nest I can get rid of it without my tools. I'll just go upstairs and take a look. You sit tight. I'll be right back."

"Hey! Hold on a minute."

I hastily walked up the stairs and opened the cabinet with the two gold chains in it. I took them both out, opened the lockets, and took pictures with my phone of both the boys' faces. Toby had sandy blonde hair and a badly shaven beard. He was smiling from ear to ear.

I grabbed a lint sheet from the laundry room and quickly returned downstairs. "You're lucky," I said. "It was only one rat. It's a good thing I got here when I did or he would have brought his friends in here and start multiplying."

"Thank you, Johnny. I appreciate it."

"No problem."

I asked a few more sample questions and left. I went to the library and looked up microfilms from 1953. I found what I was looking for. It was in the paper, but it didn't make the headlines. There was a picture of Toby in a dress shirt smiling and it said "Have you seen this person? Toby Emerson went missing on October 1, 1953. He is 21 years old, 6'8", and 250 lb. He has dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. He is mentally handicapped and his family is offering a $50 reward for whoever finds him."

Only fifty dollars? Damn. I'm sure fifty dollars held more value then, but still, it's not much. But I didn't know what his family's financial status was either. I looked for any more news stories about Toby, but there were none. But now at least I could put a face to the name.