The Disappearing Relics

 By Henry Widman, age 14

FINALIST (ages 14-17) Writing Contest Winter/Spring 2024 

Doug Blizzard

Sioux City, IA

May 3, 1946

 

Dear Brother Lou Blizzard,

            It is a beautiful summer day here in Iowa. The corn is as tall as ever and you can smell the hogs from miles away.  You won’t believe what happened to me.

  Just recently, I was asked by the owner of the museum to start a Native American display. I have received the first shipment of artifacts from the man who is lending them to us from Chicago.  In this collection, there are several artifacts that are very rare and I feel personally responsible for keeping them safe.  I was slightly nervous about having such rare relics at the museum, and I was afraid that our security systems wouldn’t be good enough for us to own these rare items.  I recently read a newspaper article about museums getting their Native American objects getting stolen and at one in specific, the thief came back several times.  I was able to convince the museum owner to purchase a new alarm system for the building and bigger locks for the windows.

  This morning, I unlocked the door and went inside and turned off the alarm.  I walked into the Old West room.  The Indian display is situated right in the middle of the room It includes a full-sized teepee replica and plenty of artifacts in glass cases.  I started sweeping around the stagecoach and then around the teepee.  As soon as I made it near the box that I had unloaded last night, which were full of arrowheads and other artifacts including a very rare knife, I saw that it was sitting open.  

I got a very suspicious feeling in my stomach.  I went to investigate. I pulled out the list of items in the box and looked at it.  There should have been four flint arrowheads, one bone knife, and two axe heads.  There were only 6 items in the box, not all seven. The knife, which was from the 1700’s, was gone.

I immediately called the police.  When they got here, they did a very thorough check for clues. They looked around the room and outside the windows.

They told me they didn’t find any fingerprints on the box but my own.   They questioned me about whether or not I had remembered to lock the door and set the alarm. I told them that I had.  I also told them that no other items in the museum had been touched. 

I have asked the owner if I can put the other rare artifacts in the strong box in basement of the building.  He told me that it would not be needed because he doesn’t think there will be any more thefts.  “After all,” he said “How many times will a thief rob the same place two nights in a row.”  I do think there is some truth in what he said, but I would still feel better if they were locked up for the time being.  I suppose all I’m doing is worrying though.

Sincerely, Your brother, Doug

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Doug Blizzard

Sioux City, IA

May 4, 1946

 

Dear Lou,

            Last night a package came for me at the museum. It had several stone arrow heads in it, but also, a very rare set of Indian beads.  I tore open the package and quickly put them in the display case.  When I came in this morning, I immediately noticed an item was missing.  The set of rare beads was gone.  This would be a huge blow to the museum, because they had loaned these beads specially from Chicago and I felt responsible for them.  I called the police who immediately came again, they were also puzzled about why there were robberies two nights in a row at the same place.  They searched for clues, but they couldn’t find any.  No fingerprints, no footprints, and no broken windows.  The police told me they would have one of their patrollers drive past the museum several times tonight and to keep an eye on the place for me.  I thanked them and they left.  They told me that they would send the information of the artifacts to local pawn shops and antique stores.

  This afternoon I’m leaving for Cheyenne, Wyoming to purchase some other relics for our museum. 

Sincerely, Doug

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Doug Blizzard,

Sioux City IA,

May 7, 1946

 

Dear Lou,

During my trip to Wyoming, I am very glad to inform you that there were no burglaries.  I am going to watch the museum tonight so there is no possibility of a robbery, though.

It is 10 o’clock at night and I am sitting in the stage coach that over looks the Indian display. I have drunk 12 cups of coffee so far and I still have 6 more cups with me right now.  I do admit I am feeling drowsy as I am writing this letter. I’d better put down my pen and keep my eyes peeled tonight. I will write more in this letter in the morning.

           

May 8

Well, my plan of vigil didn’t go as well as I had planned.  I drifted off to sleep at about 2 A.M. I slept like a baby, and when I awoke this morning, I was extremely mad at myself for falling asleep.  I climbed down from the stagecoach and examined the display.  Sure enough, there was another item missing.  It was the very expensive bone instrument.  I had tried to get the museum owner to lock it up in the big lock box, but he told me it would stay on display.  I was so mad I decided not to even call the police.  This “phantom” robber really knew what he was doing and, I didn’t think they’d find any clues this time either. 

            Later that day, as I was sitting at my desk, a knock came from the door, I answered it.  A very large man stood there.

            “Hello, I’m Detective Nigel,” he said, “I’m here to solve all your problem, fix all your worries, and catch all your crooks.”

            I had seen this man that stood in front of me before.  It is true that he is a detective, but not from the police. He is a private detective, but he was very good friends with the inspector from the police force.

            “Hello,” I greeted him.

            “I just got wind of these thefts here, and I am here to investigate,” he said.

            “But the police have already investigated the case and they have a man keeping an eye on the building here. Wait a minute.  How did you know about the robberies?” I asked.

            “Oh, word gets around,” he said. “And, I have decided to help you out and stand guard tonight.”

            I had a great dislike and suspicion about this man for some reason, but if he was friends with the police, I suppose he would be trustworthy.  

            “I’ll be back at 8 P.M. sharp,” he announced and paraded out of the room.

            He walked into the museum at 8 o’clock sharp.

            “Right on time,” he chuckled

            “Yes,” I mumbled, “Right on time.” Then I said louder, “Well, come on inside.”

We walked into the dimly lighted room. I pulled the door of the stagecoach open and we climbed in. 

  I was able to stay awake all night, but the only this was possible was because he started to snore really loudly.  His snoring must have kept the robber away, but I’m not too disappointed because there weren’t any thefts last night.  At 5:30 A.M., I got up, grabbed my coat, and went home to get some sleep.

            After a few hours of much needed sleep, I walked back over to the museum and started to fill out some paperwork to send back to the museum in Chicago. While I sat there the usual amount visitors walked in to look around.

 I was still very tired from the night before, so, I wasn’t very surprised that I fell asleep for a while.  After I finally woke up, I walked around to stretch my legs. As I walked past the Indian display, I stopped to examine it for a while when it struck me right in the face.  The bow I’d brought back from Cheyenne was gone.  I was furious. How could somebody walk right past me and take it?

  It was then that I remembered seeing a certain group of people whispering and pointing at the Indian exhibit. I rushed through both levels of the building to see if they were still here. They had all apparently already left.  I went over to the front door and swung it open. It knocked the detective off of his feet.

            “Oof!” He fell on the floor and moaned, “Oh! What hit me.”

            “I’m so sorry let me help you up,” I took his hand.

            “Thanks,” he brushed himself off, “what’s the big rush any way.”

            I was so mad about the robbery, “There has been another robbery, and in bright daylight too.”

            “Ah ha, let me through then,” he brushed me aside.

I gloomily showed him the crime scene.  My hopes weren’t high that he’d find anything, and I wasn’t disappointed when he announced that there were no clues that he could see.  I am beginning to feel as if we will never find the answer to these thefts. 

Sincerely, Doug

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Doug Blizzard,

Sioux City IA,

May 9, 1946

 

Dear Lou,

            A few hours after Detective Nigel left the museum, yesterday, I had another visitor.  It was a tall man in his early sixties.  I recognized him as Inspector Roberts from the Sioux City Police Department.  He is the man that is good friends with Nigel.

            “Good afternoon, Mr. Blizzard,” he greeted me.

“Hello Inspector,” I smiled, “What brings you out here today.”

“Nigel just came to my office and told me that you had a theft in broad daylight today,” he said “He also told me that he had a flawless plan to catch the thief.” 

“Oh, he does, does he?” I replied.

            “Yep,” he nodded, “We’ll be here at 9 o’clock sharp to try it out.”

At 9 P.M., I led them up the front steps and down the hallway and into the Old West room.  It was decided that I would hide in the stagecoach and the inspector inside the closet.  The plan was that Nigel would sit in the teepee with a camera and as soon as the thief was near the glass case, the picture would be taken and we would jump him.  In 5 minutes, we were settled comfortably in our hiding places.  The first 3 hours past uneventfully. 

Suddenly, I saw a shape moving along the wall.  My heart began to pound, I gripped the door handle as tight as I could and bit my lip.  Suddenly the shape came into the moonlight.  As I was about to jump on it, I noticed it was detective Nigel.  I released my grip on the door.  He walked back to his hiding place and sat down.  

I was starting to wonder if he was the thief.  After all, several elements of the case pointed to him.  Thing such as, how he knew all about the robberies, after all, no one was supposed to know about the robberies except the police, me, and the owner.  He also had an opportunity to rob the museum while he was here “on guard,” yesterday morning.  I had my mind made up.  Nigel must be the thief.  I leaned back in my seat. I thought, “Boy are these seats comfortable. And was I right, my head nodded forward, I quickly jerked it up.  “I can’t fall asleep now,” I was telling myself.  But my exhaustion was too much for me though. My eyelids drooped, and I fell into a deep sleep.

            Hours passed.

“BANG!”  My eyelids flew open.  “Where was I?”  I thought.  I was almost certain that I heard a gunshot.  It was then that I realized that I was standing, holding an axe head, with my hand in the display case.  I was very puzzled.  I had no time to set it down, however, when a bag was put over my head.  I was thrown to the ground.

            “I got him, I got the thief,” called out Nigel’s voice.

            “Good, let me help you cuff him up,” he called from a few yards away.  They quickly had me in hand cuffs and laying face down on the floor.

            “Well, shall we see who we caught,” grinned the detective.

I was pulled to my feet by the inspector and the bag was removed from my head.  They both took one look at the thief and exclaimed, “Why, it’s Doug”

“Oh, ho, now you’ve got some explaining to do,” said the inspector, loosened his grip a little bit.

“I don’t know what was going on,” I stammered, still dazed from the whole experience.  “I was asleep, when all of a sudden I heard a gunshot and woke up with my hand in the case.”

“That wasn’t no gunshot, that was the flash on my camera.  I can’t afford any of them new models,” revealed the detective. “And boy, did we get a good picture.” 

The inspector interrupted him, “What are you suggesting then?”

“I think that I must have been sleepwalking,” I said. This was the only reasonable explanation I could think of.

The inspector was silent for a moment, then he let out a sigh, “I don’t know what to think.”    

The inspector told me that several facts pointed to me.  For example, when I was gone, there weren’t any robberies.  Also, the only fingerprints found on the display case and boxes were mine.

I then realized that all of the robberies did happen while I was sleeping.  I convinced Inspector Roberts to let us look around the museum to see if the rare objects were still around.  I was trying to think of a place that I would have put them.  Then suddenly it clicked, I had been wanting to put them in the large lock box in the basement.  So, perhaps, in my subconsciousness, I had been putting the rare objects in there to keep them safe.  I ran down stairs and opened the old vault.  Sure enough, the Indian artifacts were all sitting there, side by side on the shelf.  I was so glad that they hadn’t actually been stolen because these items were only loaned to us and they were priceless and irreplaceable.  The inspector told me that, because I was actually protecting the items, and not stealing them, he wouldn’t have to arrest me.  I decided to leave the expensive artifacts in the vault until I can talk to my boss about what happened.

Lou, I really hope that you can use this case as an inspiration for your fiction writing.  I think it will be worth your time to write about it. 

Very relieved, Doug Blizzard