By Historian
Part One
“All set for the Halloween party this Saturday?” Drea Rodgers asked.
“Sure,” Anne Thorne replied.
The two strolled across campus to the Beta Nu Gamma sorority house where they lived. Both were members of the University of Los Angeles swim team. The blonde Drea and brunette Anne wore shorts and clingy t-shirts, which showed off their long legs and the splendid figures that came from long hours in the pool and weight room Though both were from the area, they lived on campus of the for similar and different reasons. The similar reason was the fact living on campus made going from class to practice much easier. The different reason was the fact Anne wanted to experience campus life while Drea wanted a touch on independence from her father. They were invited to a Halloween party at a fraternity.
As they approached the BNG house, a sorority sister in a tennis dress emerged. “Oh, Drea, there’s somebody here to see you,” she said. “She’s in your office.”
“Okay,” Drea said. “Thanks Sue.”
As president of the BNG chapter, Drea was entitled to a small office. Inside, there was just enough space for a desk with a swivel chair and two visitor’s chairs. In one of the chairs sat another student. She wore a polo shirt, shorts, sandals, and a worried look on her face. “Ellie, what’s wrong?” Drea asked.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to skip the party,” Ellie answered.
“Why?”
“Daddy got a threatening letter. It said if he didn’t pay half a million now, a ‘Royal Flush’ would crash the party, take me then demand a full million.”
“Have you told the police?” Anne asked.
“No, the note said not to,” Ellie replied.
“As a legal studies major who is seriously considering becoming a prosecutor,” Drea said, “I should remind you that extortion is a crime and you have neglected to inform the police. You father’s a lawyer, he should know better.”
“That’s why Daddy’s telling me to avoid the party, to prevent it from happening.”
“Still, ransom kidnappings are very rare nowadays,” Anne said.
“They are?” Ellie asked with an astonished look. Like most people, she knew more of dramatized crimes than real ones.
“It’s a high-risk venture, especially the ransom drop. You remember last year?”
“You mean when Drea was kidnapped? Of course I do. You helped to organize search parties.”
“Yes, but the main reason they failed was the fact they overlooked some modern devices, such as caller I.D. They used different people calling from different pay phones, but that made it easier to pin point where they were.”
“Do you think you can help?”
“Sure.”
“Fine, but what exactly is a Royal Flush? I know it has something to do with cards but I’m sure what.”
“Okay, a lot of people believe the best poker hand you can get is four aces, right?” Ellie nodded and Anne continued. “A straight flush is five consecutive cards of the same suit, say the four, five, six, seven, and eight of diamonds. That would be harder to get than four of a kind. Going a step beyond is a Royal Flush: the five highest cards of any one suit.”
“Ah,” Ellie said in a sudden burst of inspiration.
“It sounds like something worth looking into,” Drea said.
“It’ll be too hard for just me,” Anne said. “I’ll need some help.”
“I’ll help.”
“Two people to cover five still won’t be enough.”
“I’ll call an emergency meeting.”
The table in the spacious BNG dining room was also used for meetings. Drea had announced an emergency meeting. The BNG officers were present, as were as many members as who could make the last-minute meeting. The sorority’s members were very athletic looking, indeed, membership was limited to members of sports teams with good academic records. While any co-ed from any sport was welcome, members usually came from the woman’s track, tennis and swimming teams. Drea opened the meeting with a quick introduction of what has happened. “I give to the floor to my Little Sister, Anne Thorne,”
Under BNG guidelines, the older of two roommates was the “Big Sister” and the younger, “Little Sister.” After Drea graduated in the spring and a new member joined in the fall, Anne would assume the role of Big Sister.
Anne cleared throat, though only a sophomore and ineligible to be an officer, she was the chapter president’s Little Sister, which gave her some status. Also, she had proved herself a loyal friend. She looked around the room. “What we need are ideas,” she said. “What would somebody dress as that could represent the five highest cards in a suit of cards?”
There was a gaggle of voices and Drea banged the gavel. “Order!” she said.
The noise subsided and Sue raised her hand. “Sue Parker is recognized,” Drea said.
Sue stood and said. “I think ten is so obvious, we should go straight to the Jack,”
“Hear, hear,” another voice said.
“Right,” Drea said. “Some kind of sports uniform. How about Jack? Dee Dee van Ness is recognized.”
The sister who acknowledged Sue’s call rose. Tall, blonde, and with a quintessential California name, Dee Dee was a top backstroker. “Since Wild West and pirate costumes are popular, perhaps we should look and see if any pirates or outlaws were named Jack,” she said.
“Now we’re making headway,” Drea remarked. “But would they go for the obvious on the king and queen and look like those on playing cards? Or a chess set for that matter?” She noticed another hand up. “Anne Thorne is recognized.”
Anne stood up and said, “We shouldn’t discount nicknames, either.”
“You mean like Elvis being the King of Rock and Roll?” Dee Dee asked.
“Exactly.”
“Okay,” Drea said. “Now on to Ace.”
“Ace, that’s a champion pilot or something,” another sister said.
“Krystie Palmer is hereby fined one dollar for speaking without being recognized, Drea announced. “Please continue.”
“Sorry,” Krystie, a red headed middle distance runner said. “Snoopy is a possibility there. Remember he plays at being a World War One flying ace.”
“Okay, it looks like we have several ideas here,” Drea said. “She turned to the sorority secretary and said, “Summer, could you write down a list of them and print it up on your computer?”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Then the meeting is adjourned.”
After morning practice, Drea took the time between classes to draw two books on pirates and piracy from the library. When she returned to the sorority house, she was surprised to find Anne in their room watching TV. The VCR was on, and Drea didn’t take notice. “Why aren’t you researching?” she asked.
“I am,” Anne replied. “See what it is?”
“A League of Their Own,” Drea reported. “So?”
“Remember Dottie Henson, Geena Davis’ character? Her nickname was the ‘The Queen of Diamonds.’”
“Ah, you’re trying to see what her number is.”
“Exactly.”
When an appropriate scene showed Geena Davis with a big “8” on her back, Anne jotted the number down in her notebook. Since League was a particular favorite of Drea’s, she sat back and watched the rest of the movie, too.
Later on, when Tom Hanks stated there was no crying in baseball, Anne added seriously “or in detective work.”
As soon as the movie was over, even before it was finished rewinding, the books were cracked open and the two roomies went to looking up pirates until they encountered one Calico Jack Rackham. “Calico,” Anne repeated. “That’s type of cloth.”
“That’s right,” Drea said.
“Trouble is, I have no idea what it would look like.”
“Neither do I.”
On Friday afternoon, the members of the sorority met to discuss their finding. On produced an X-Men comic, justifying it on the ground of X being the Roman numeral for ten.
After that, Anne was recognized and spoke. “In that case,” she said, “we’ll also need to look out for somebody going as Scarlet O’Hara or Daisy Duke.”
There was a state of bewildered silence then Anne continued. “Dixie comes from the French word for ten, dix. Riverboat gamblers from New Orleans used it as slang for ten dollar bills in the nineteenth century.”
Drea brought up Calico Jack Rackham, while another sorority sister brought up Jack McCall, who had killed Wild Bill Hickock. Another pointed out that playing card jacks usually held swords, so anything requiring a sword could qualify. Sue noted jacks had once been called knaves, a term usual associated with the Devil. Then there were all the various nursery rhyme and fairy tale Jacks, after which Drea changed the subject. Various historical queens were mentioned, and Anne gave the uniform number she had taken down. Somebody mentioned the Jungle Queen comic book as well.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Drea said. “On to the king.”
Very little was said, except for The Pirate King, which Dee Dee brought up and received the same blank stares as Anne. “The Pirates of Penzance,” she explained. “British musical, late nineteenth century. There’s a character in it called the Pirate King.”
“Okay,” Drea said. “On to ace. I don’t think somebody will go on the cheap wearing a Jim Carrey mask and Hawaiian shirt and calling himself Ace Ventura. Angie Burke is recognized.”
Angie, who had brought up the swords and jacks, merely mentioned Doctor Who.
“The Brit sci-fi show with the blue phone booth and cheesy special effects?” Drea asked. “What does that have to do with this?”
“The Doctor’s last traveling companion was a girl whose nickname was Ace.”
“Okay, there we have it,” Drea said. “Does anybody else have something to add?”
Anne did. “Just remember that a joker can be anything the person holding one wants it to be.”
“Great,” Drea said. “Now we have to look for Batman’s leading enemy.”
On the morning of the party, Anne picked up her costume from the rental shop and took it home. Not to the sorority, but what she’d called home since that terrible night her mother was murdered, that of her uncle, Jack Mac Clarey. When swimming meets didn’t conflict, she spent her weekends with Jack, his wife Sharon, and their son Mike. In the living room, in full view of all three, Anne took a 1920’s dress from the box. “That doesn’t look like Flipper,” Mike said.
Anne smiled at her cousin, who had seen the updated version of the classic TV show. “No, not Flipper, flapper,” she said indulgently, after all, Mike was only four. “This was popular when my Grandma Thorne was your age.”
“What’s Drea going as?” Sharon asked.
“I don’t know. We’re surprising each other.”
Later, Anne donned the blue dress with fringes and sequins. A headband was also part of the costume, and she’d borrowed Sharon’s pearl necklace. She looked at herself in the mirror. “You look wonderful,” Sharon gushed.
“I’m as authentic as I can be,” Anne said. “I’m even wearing silk stockings instead of nylons, but I’m not so sure about these shoes.” She help up a pair of pumps with three inch heels.”
“You’re there to have fun, not be 100% authentic. At least you won’t look completely ridiculous, as you would wearing sneakers or sandals.”
Anne swung by the sorority house, where she would pick up Drea, Summer, and Krystie. Summer and Krystie were already waiting, dressed as Wonder Woman and Batgirl, respectively, though their costumes were not exactly the same as the “authentic” ones. The red on Summer’s costume was closer to burgundy than to scarlet, though she had the dark hair noted in the comic book and TV versions, and Krytie’s was mainly black Spandex, with the bat outline and a home made black eye mask rather than a cowl.
Drea came downstairs, decked out in red Old West saloon girl’s dress. With that, the quartet piled into Anne’s ten-year old Chevy Cavalier and made their way to the party, which was at one of the fraternities. As soon as they entered, the accosted by somebody in a suit and Bill Clinton mask. “I’ll feel more than just your pain,” he said.
“Great costume,” Anne said. “Where’s the front part of the horse?”
“Ouch,” Summer said.
“Is Ellie okay?” Anne asked.
“She said she’d be dressed as Cinderella,” Drea replied. “There she is now.” Drea said.
“Looks a little nervous, but that’s understandable,” Anne said.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Ellie said as she clasped Drea’s hands.
“Now we can get down to business and see what’s going on,” Drea said.
“We have an old time pilot, with a friend,” Krystie reported. She pointed to a couple approaching.
The twosome’s hair was concealed, but Anne decided they were both female, noting the enlarged chests. The pilot’s companion wore black sneakers, gray sweatpants, a dark blue sweatshirt, and an old leather football helmet she’d pulled from her grandfather’s attic. They passed the group by, and the back of the shirt bore two pieces of white cloth cut to resemble a one and a zero. “There’s your Ace and ten,” Drea remarked. “Too bad it isn’t blackjack.”
“C’mon, let’s mix and mingle,” Anne said.
A short time later, they came across a young woman decked out as a pirate. Her hair was poured out beneath a bandana, which could have been made of calico, but neither one knew which that cloth looked like. “Calico Jack or the Pirate King?” Anne asked.
“Good question,” Drea said. “Though the Pirate King might wear a crown, just to remove all doubt.”
The girl in the pirate garb spoke briefly with the old gridiron star and pilot, but then again, they broke up and spoke with various other guests, including Little Bo Peep, a pumpkin, and a couple dressed as a priest and nun.
“There she is,” Drea said. “The Jungle Queen.”
Anne then noticed a fellow coed in a costume cobbled up by sewing odd bits of cloth to a bikini and sheathed knife, presumably of plastic or rubber. “She’s cheating,” Anne noted after they had chatted with her. “Flip flops on her feet.”
Just then Drea spotted a woman coming straight at them. She was tall, with her height enhanced by three-inch heels She also wore black cloth stockings and a Rugby shirt with black and yellow horizontal stripes. Her hair, presumably a wig, was in a beehive hair-do. An eye mask holding a pair of antennae completed the costume. “A bee,” Drea remarked.
“Remember, what every bee hive has,” Anne whispered.
“A queen.”
They chatted briefly with the bee, who then moved on to other guests. “She bears watching,” Anne remarked. “You go and let Summer and Krystie know what’s going on.”
Anne slowly tailed the bogus bee as she left the main area of the party, perhaps to relieve herself. However, instead of entering the bathroom, the bee entered a room. Anne didn’t dare go in but she knelt by the door to try and listen to the conversation. As she did, Anne was unaware of the figure that struck her on the head. She didn’t lose consciousness, but the noise drew attention from inside the room. The door flew open and Anne was dragged into what appeared to be a study room.
“So you caught a spy, Karen,” the Bee said.
“That’s right,” said, of all people, Little Bo Peep. The Bee and the Ace carried Anne to a chair and set her down in it. Before her, Anne saw the Bee, the Flying Ace, the Pirate, the Football Player, and Little Bo Peep. Several large bags sat on the floor. “Of course,” Anne said. “Karen’s last name is King.”
“Very clever of you,” said the Bee. “But too late to be any good to you.”
As the Bee spoke, the Pirate secured Anne’s wrists behind her back, but not behind the back of the chair. “Good work, Shelly,” the Bee said as she took a piece of rope. She took the ends and started it behind and above Anne’s ankles. The rope was crossed over the instep then taken below to the gap created by the three-inch heels. Next, it was back behind the ankles and under the arch before the ends were knotted above. “We only have two hankies,” the Flying Ace said, “and we need them to gag and blindfold the target.”
“That’s why we have this,” the Bee said as she dipped into a bag lying on the floor. She pulled out a roll of duct tape, tore off a piece and placed it over Anne’s mouth.
“There,” she said with a grin “That’s more like it.”