Yorkshire Writers' Lunch

It was sundown outside The Golden Horseshoe. Everything was eerily silent. There was no sign of anyone. The town was empty, shut like a ghost town. Tumbleweed blew down Main Street. The wind rattled the shutters. I told Bonnie to stay back. I stepped into the street armed and ready. Where was everyone? There was no sign of a body, living or dead, anywhere.  “Hello?” I called, “I know you’re there.” A man stepped out from the shadows. The brim of his Stetson was pulled down low. He was covered in dust and had a thick stubbled jaw. He sneered, pulled a pistol out from his holster and aimed it at me. “James?” I asked. “Is that you? I thought you were dead. Are you James Lennox?” The man walked slowly towards me. All of my instincts told me to back away but I stayed fixed to the spot.  “James. I’m Cal Samuels, your folks hired me to find you. They’re real worried about you. I can take you back to Philly. Why don’t you put the gun down and come with me? You can trust me,...

“Wait!” Hannah shouted. “I know Billy can be a hot headed fool Aunt, but he does have good in him. Good that a wife could nurture, anyhow,” she said, pulling out a ring attached to a delicate chain around her neck.  “Hannah!” Mrs Taylor shouted “Are you married?” “No, not yet Mother, but we are engaged. Please Aunt Margaret, give him a chance? You did say you’d do anything for your family?”  Aunt Margaret paused then nodded and sat down.  “You’d best be careful girl,” she said to Hannah, “if you lie down with rattlesnakes, you’re gonna get bit.” Hannah looked annoyed but didn’t reply. It went quiet and I could hear Bonnie wailing upstairs. She called for her mother who met her on the landing then came over to me. “Bonnie wants you to read this letter, she said it would explain everything.” I looked across at Hannah and Aunt Margaret and they seemed curious but Mrs Taylor took charge. “Read it upstairs in the parlour, you’ll be able to think up there. Bonnie’s c...

Prologue – Philadelphia, May 1890 - Office of C.P. Samuels – Private Investigator It was a sunny morning in mid-May when my life changed completely. Work was slow and I was getting restless. That was until ten o’clock, when Mr Lennox and his distraught wife entered my office.  “It’s my son Mr Samuels; James Lennox, a Geologist. He’s been missing for three months. Headed out West for work.” He handed me a photograph of a handsome fellow, young, aged twenty-three, so he said. I studied it carefully, though it told me nothing yet. “Sir, with all due respect, lots of young men head out West and lose contact with their folks. It’s nothing personal. The West, as we know, is a different country.” I handed the photo back. “Besides, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. I’m sorry Sir, I’m not sure I can help you.” “We’ll pay double your usual fee. Make it worth your while. It’s important, my wife is desperate and may not have long to live!” I looked across at Mrs Lennox an...