Read The Butterfly Conspiracy Online
Authors: James Nelson
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery
Chapter 4
Chicago
’s Union Station had the look of being built in the early 1900’s.
Stephen gazed up at the arched ceiling of the great hall, at least one hundred feet above his head.
Corinthian columns stood on polished marble floors. Since it was only ten o’clock in the morning, and his train to
Milwaukee
didn’t leave till five, Stephen decided to take advantage of the time and spend the day at the Art Institute.
He stored his bags in a locker and pulled out a map he had brought with him from
New York
. Thinking about calling his father, Stephen walked over to a pay phone.
He hesitated.
Since this was his first real trip away by himself, it would not look good if he needed to call home in a panic over some wild story about being followed by a stranger.
He decided to wait and see if anything else happened.
He could always tell Uncle Phillip, once he got to
Michigan
.
The sky was clear as he headed down
Jackson Street
towards
Michigan Avenue
.
It was a little more than a mile and it felt good to be walking outside after being cooped up on the train for so long.
Before he knew it, Stephen was climbing the steps to The Art Institute, with its signature giant green patina lions elegantly standing guard on either side.
Paulie was following a block behind.
He almost lost track of Stephen when what appeared to be a swamp Metalmark butterfly flitted by.
Without thinking, Paulie turned and followed the butterfly a few steps before losing it into some bushes.
Could that really have been a Metalmark?
Paulie chalked it up to wishful thinking, because Metalmarks were way too rare, and he didn’t notice any swamp thistle growing in the middle of
Chicago
’s busy metropolis.
Stephen picked up a display pamphlet and strolled up the stairs to Gunsaulus Hall.
Japanese collections lined the corridor but Stephen hardly glanced at them.
As he approached
McKinlock Court
, Stephen paused to check out a display of sketches by Thomas Addison Richards.
A sign explained that Richards was an artist who traveled the south in the 1800s. Stephen thought how excited Jill would be to hear about his visit to the museum.
Jill loved art as much as Stephen.
A crushing reality hit him as he remembered that he would not be having any more discussions with her.
He stepped back to get a better view.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone enter the gallery.
It was the same big guy from the train.
Stephen recognized the wrinkled suit.
They made eye contact for a fleeting second as the burly man entered the gallery.
The man quickly turned and walked over to examine a collection of paintings on the other side of the room.
Stephen’s heart began to beat faster.
He tried to calculate what the odds would be that this guy would happen to take the same train from
New York
to
Chicago
, have a fellow passenger suspicious of him, and then have him show up in the same gallery of the museum. He didn’t like the odds.
Stephen turned into the sculpture room located to the right of
McKinlock Court
.
As he entered the room he thought, I need to find out once and for all if this guy is following me.
Stephen jogged halfway through the court and quickly ducked behind a statue that looked to be a cross between a man in a suit of armor and some kind of
bionic robot.
He held his breath pressing himself tightly behind the big sculpture.
He counted off the seconds, “thousand one, thousand two, thousand three.”
Stephen listened but did not hear anyone pass by.
After what seemed like half an hour, he slowly peered out into the gallery.
No one was there.
He slipped quietly from behind the statue and started to walk around the sculpture court.
He was the only one in the room.
Stephen breathed a sigh of relief and thought about Dom. His crazy talk, combined with traveling alone for the first time, must have worked together to create a feeling of paranoia. Stephen resolved to calm down and enjoy the rest of the exhibits.
He consulted the map and headed towards Rubloff Auditorium.
Paulie panicked when he had run straight into the kid.
That encounter was way too close.
He did not want to be recognized or discovered following his prey. The long open hallways did not provide ideal conditions for tailing someone.
Paulie decided to head back to the train depot in hopes that the kid returned through the same
Jackson Street
entrance he left from.
By four o’clock, Stephen had seen most of The Art Institute and had enjoyed a quick lunch.
He decided it was time to get back to Union Station.
On the walk back, Stephen reviewed all of the great art he had experienced.
Periodically he glanced behind him to make sure no one was following him.
Paulie was in a perfect position to see Stephen enter Union Station.
He watched as Stephen retrieved his bags and headed for No. 339, the Hiawatha Service.
Still spooked from his face to face encounter, Paulie was determined not to get too close again.
He waited several minutes after Stephen got on the train before attempting to board.
Paulie approached the train.
“Ticket, please.”
A burly conductor held out his hand.
Paulie folded over a twenty dollar bill.
“Here you go, buddy.
Keep the change.” Paulie said, as he walked past the man.
“Hold it, Mister
You gotta have a ticket. Ticket window’s over there.”
The conductor indicated with a nod.
Paulie was in a panic.
He didn’t want the train to leave without him.
What would he tell Al.
He ran over to the ticket booth.
“I need a ticket for that train,” Paulie said, pointing to the 339.
“What is your destination, sir? Are you going to
Milwaukee
?”
“Yeah, that’s it.
Give me a ticket to
Milwaukee
.”
Paulie grabbed the ticket, rushed back to the conductor, and climbed onto the train.
He grabbed the first seat he could find and decided to worry about spotting Stephen when they got to
Milwaukee
.
About
, the Hiawatha Service pulled into the Milwaukee Station.
Stephen grabbed his bags and headed to the lobby.
There was a two hour wait which passed quickly and around
o’clock Stephen boarded a bus for the
Upper Michigan
city of Escanaba.
Stephen took a window seat.
The Milwaukee Depot was not nearly as crowded as
Chicago
’s Union Station.
Paulie stayed in the shadows and thought he would have a much easier time boarding the same bus Stephen got on.
As a precaution, Paulie removed his hat and suit coat and combed his hair so his part was on the opposite side. Again, he waited to board the bus a few minutes after Stephen. Paulie took a seat in the front.
Stephen sat down and tried to stay awake.
It had been a long day and he had nearly nodded off before the bus even pulled out of the terminal. He tried to concentrate on the landscape rolling by the window and noticed that as the cities were getting smaller, they were also further apart.
Rural landscapes became the norm.
Around
, Stephen tried to get some sleep.
He wasn’t expected to arrive in Escanaba until sometime around three thirty and he didn’t want to be dead tired when Uncle Phillip picked him up.
Paulie was also having a hard time staying awake.
It was getting hot on the bus.
Since he didn’t know where Stephen was headed, he needed to be awake to see every passenger depart at each stop.
As the cities disappeared, Paulie started feeling uneasy.
He watched as thick forests replaced rolling farmlands.
Several times he saw deer standing along the highway.
The familiar city sounds he experienced in Milwaukee were replaced by silence.
He was feeling very uncomfortable.
Just after
o’clock, the bus pulled into Menominee and three passengers got off.
Paulie slept soundly through the stop.
As the bus pulled out of the small depot, Paulie rubbed his eyes and snapped awake. He jumped to his feet and scanned the bus.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Stephen, leaning against the window, fast asleep.
Paulie vowed to stay awake for the rest of the trip, no matter how long it took.