Montgomery Vale: Scorched: MONTGOMERY VALE, #1

Montgomery Vale

Scorched

Patrice Williams Marks

Contents

Introduction

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1. Chapter 1: The Inferno

2. Chapter 2: Where There’s Smoke

3. Chapter 3: No Gun

4. Chapter 4: The Photograph

5. Chapter 5: The Arc

6. Chapter 6: No Accident

7. Chapter 7: If He Must

8. Chapter 8: Butterflies

9. Chapter 9: The Train and Cable

10. Chapter 10: The Caravan

11. Chapter 11: The Cornfields

12. Chapter 12: The House

How Was It?

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Free: Chapter 2 - A Portrait

Free: Chapter 3 - The Beginning

Free: Chapter 4 - The Factory

Free: Chapter 5 - The Ring

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ISBN-13: 978-0692610855

ISBN-10: 0692610855

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Introduction

The year is 1937 and England's well-respected investigator, Montgomery Vale, a bi-racial gentleman, is aboard the Hindenburg, determined to find answers about his family's mysterious past. But, even more disturbing events derail him.

Moments after discovering a dead man in the smoking lounge, a bomb goes off, downing the Hindenburg and hurdling Montgomery towards murderous conspirators and one equally distracting woman. Can Montgomery solve this well-calculated murder mystery before more lives are lost, including his own?

From an Amazon bestselling author, Montgomery Vale: Scorched, will enthrall historical mystery detective thriller readers. Montgomery Vale: Scorched is perfect for fans who have devoured Alex Rosenberg's, The Girl from Krakow, Jeffrey Archer's Best Kept Secret, or Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See.

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Chapter 1: The Inferno

Afigure walked along a darkened catwalk near the after-end of the Hindenburg. From a black bag he pulled out dynamite and pyrotol connected to a timing device. He then used rope to secure it to the frame of the impressive vessel before methodically making his way back towards the passenger area.

A porter ushered a confident gentleman with a top hat, cane, white gloves, and tails though the Hindenburg’s dining room. The gentleman glanced at the paintings on silk wallpaper that depicted Graf Zeppelin’s flights over South America.

The well-dressed guests were mesmerized by the spectacular views spread out on both sides of the zeppelin that included the Empire State Building, Central Park and the Statue of Liberty. Ebbets Field was also in view where they caught a glimpse of the ninth inning between the Dodgers and the Pittsburgh Pirates.

The gentleman paused, not to take in the sights, but to make note of the diesel engines that were mounted in four engine cars, two at ring ninety-two, and two at ring one-hundred forty. The four sixteen-cylinder diesel engines spun at maximum horsepower as propeller wash struck the ship's covering.

In the engineer’s cabin, an officer checked the engine telegraph and verified that only two engines were running at half speed for the dissection. Compressed airstarters rotated the two engines as they fired streams of air past the flippers.

A steward opened up a riveted metal door and stepped over the raised metal doorway. He gestured for the gentleman to follow. The steward then led him through a double-door airlocked smokers’ lounge. Inside, the gentleman removed his gloves and top hat and reached into his vest pocket to retrieve a cigar. The steward walked over to a locked case where he removed the key that dangled on a chain around his neck and inserted it into the lock. Inside the locked box was a single one-motion pocket lighter. The steward grasped the lighter and returned to the gentleman. The gentleman clipped off the end of the cigar with a cutter and deposited it into the gloved hand of the steward. The steward pushed down on the lever with his thumb to create a flame. The gentleman did not stick his cigar directly into the flame, but primed the tobacco by spinning it around the flame to get an even burn. He waited until he saw an orange glow before he brought the cigar to his mouth. He nodded in thanks to the steward, who returned the lighter to the locked box.

The gentleman placed the stogie in his mouth and puffed. He sucked in the smoke as if sucking on a straw before blowing it out. He did this several times until the cigar produced thick white smoke. It was then sufficiently lit. The gentleman enjoyed his cigar and his surroundings for several minutes while the head of the cigar began to ash. The ash measured over an inch long, which was a sign of a quality cigar. The gentleman’s eyes searched the room for an ashtray. He spotted an ashtray on a table in the corner. Only one other gentleman was sitting at that table. His back faced the room and his hand was nestled on the armrest with a lit cigar between his fingers.

The gentleman strode over to the table and asked, May I join you?

There was no response from the sitting man, not even a slight stir. Nevertheless, the gentleman reached down to pick up the ashtray. He rolled his cigar along the edges until the ash fell off. He then offered the ashtray to the seated man.

Though it was 1937, Montgomery Vale was not known as a Negro first, a man second. He had managed to rise above such prejudices and labels, which forced those who knew him to do the same. To call Montgomery Vale striking; was an understatement. He sported a squared, concrete jaw and a cosmic smile. Vale was educated, confident, and always exhibited grace under pressure, which was highly unusual for a man born in the South during a repressive time. His biracial father ran a small accounting business, while his mother worked as his secretary. They did well for a couple whose prospects seemed nil in the 1930s. Montgomery was their only child. He had been raised to hold his head up high in every situation and to see himself on a level playing field with any other person. This attitude got him in quite a few scrapes in school, but in time, he was respected by his peers and instructors. His mother always made sure he was dressed well, even if she had to make his clothes herself. Montgomery was their legacy, and she raised him as such.

When Montgomery was only thirteen years old, his parents were killed in an automobile accident. The accident was so severe that viewing the remains would have proven too traumatic for a child. Montgomery’s last contact with his parents was on the morning of October 12, 1926. His father gave him his customary swat on the britches on his way out the door. This show of affection between the two had started when Montgomery was three. His mother drove him to school and kissed him goodbye on the cheek. Embarrassed, Montgomery wiped the remnants of his mother from his face and climbed out of the car. He hurried towards the entrance of the school before turning around and giving her a quick wave goodbye.

The papers rarely reported on deaths in the Negro community. However, this one held a public fascination as Montgomery’s father was biracial, half African-American and half British-European. He was also a successful accountant. The drunken township clerk who had plowed them over when they stopped at the corner received only probation for his crime.

Though he had no logical reason to think so, Montgomery believed that his parents could still be alive. He had not seen their broken bodies with his own two eyes, so in his thought processes, they were not truly gone forever.

As per his parents’ will, he was immediately sent to his grandfather’s estate in East Sussex, England. Having never met his grandfather before, he was lost in this new environment of wealth and privilege, but the training his mother had given him made him a quick study. Manners, gentility, proper decorum and an elite education were Montgomery’s from the very first day he stepped foot into his grandfather’s manor. His grandfather insisted that all the staff, as well as any distant relatives, treat Montgomery as the right hand of the lord of the manor. And even outside the estate, his lineage and status outweighed his skin color.

His grandfather was a very formal man, yet he cherished private moments with