This is the third chapter of the mystery series written by five different classrooms of students. There are 10 chapters in all. If you are new to the series, start with the first chapter here!
Missing in Montreal
The wind died down that morning shortly after breakfast, and Joe had just one thing on his mind—his aunt. Thinking back to his eighteenth birthday, he reminisced over Aunt Elenore’s kindness. He had been upset over the break-up with his then girlfriend, and also the fact that he would not receive the one birthday wish he desired—a kiss. Elenore decided that since she had a kiss on her eighteenth birthday, it was only fair that he got one too, so she leaned over his shoulder and gave him a loving kiss on on the cheek.
Joe’s peaceful thought about Elenore vanished and her disappearance came crashing back into focus. Ramone knew something, but still was not speaking. Joe now pondered, how were they going to get the words out of him?
Meanwhile, that same morning, Francois was alone baking muffins in the kitchen. He sat at the long wooden table and began to think about his dear friends, William and Elenore. He exited his dream by the smell of burnt muffins.
“Oh no!” he screamed sadly. It would soon be time for the rest of the help to be up and about doing their daily chores. Work went on as usual even though their beloved ‘Lenore’, as the staff often tenderly called her, was missing. Francois continued with his dream, and that is when it clicked—the maids might know something that would help the case. And so, the questioning began.
Unfortunately, the maids knew little more than he did. When Amy noticed Elenore’s medication had not been taken that afternoon, he himself had gone upstairs and discovered the note in her room. Amy had then called the police. As usual, the local police could not do anything until the person had been missing for 24 hours. Even now they had dismissed the notes as some sort of prank written by a child.
By this point, Francois was getting very upset. His chubby face turned scarlet red, while his breath gasped like it was forty below outside, and still they had nothing. Or did they?
While all this was going on at the mansion, Elenore and William were stuck in the back of a vehicle, that in their vantage point, appeared to be an SUV. Crashing around them was the contents of a red velvet line box—necklaces, rings and diamond earrings—along with some computer components and DVDs. All carelessly strewn with mounds of other domestic clutter.
Now they understood. With sore heads, which felt like they could burst at any moment and hands and feet restricted by rope, William wiggled around to try and get a look at where they were. He used all his strength to pull his head and torso off the floor of the vehicle in time to see a sign out the window that read Montreal 18km. They guy in front seat did not notice William struggling for a look out the window as they were busy trying to make up another clue to send back to the mansion.
“What about this… Where may we be? We are on the road as you can see. West is not the direction we wish to be, we travel to a place where Canadians are proud,” tentatively questioned the man in the passenger seat. He was very cautious, like a puppy that had been hit too many times, seeking approval from his accomplice just as he had growing up from the Sisters at his school.
The cross he wore around his neck reminded him of better days, living at student residency. What would the Sisters think of him now? He hung his head in shame of what he had done just two days earlier. But, he had no choice—he had to do this.
His dad, who was sitting in the driver’s seat, was stone cold and focused. Despite his choice of private schools, by example he had unwittingly taught his son how a grown man should be. Now glancing to his right, he was startled at the result—a man driven and without heart.
“That’s a perfect clue, son” he told him. That was the only nice thing that his dad had ever said to him his whole life. He was proud.
Back at the mansion, Joe and Francois were still sitting down at the table grilling Ramone. Finally, Ramone spoke. (Keep reading the blog to catch the next exciting chapter)