March 31, 1935- Leaving New York City:

Justin checked his ticket again quickly and pushed the slipping strap of his purse back up on his shoulder, as he tightened his grip on the makeup case and suitcase he had borrowed from Daphne. He made his way carefully down the aisle of the rail-car, concentrating hard on not falling over with the heeled shoes that Daphne had bought for him. She had been careful to avoid getting a heel that was too high in order to make it easier for the poor young man to adjust to walking, but they still felt odd on his feet. He had gotten on the wrong car when boarding so he had to continue through two more rail-cars before finding the one that contained his upper berth. He had not attracted any attention that was noticeable as he passed by the dozens of passengers who were getting comfortable in their seats for the journey ahead. Mothers were doing their best to contain the high spirits of their youngsters. Older couples were chatting next to each other. Single men, who appeared to be traveling salesmen, were pulling out brochures from weathered briefcases and looking them over. Only one thing stopped Justin in his tracks. He was almost to the end of the second car when he spotted a man sitting with his late edition newspaper wide open in front of him as he perused the inner pages. Justin couldn't miss the headline on the front page.

'Missing Artist Identified in Vanderbeke Murder Investigation', it read in big bold letters. Justin stopped dead. He couldn't read the smaller print very well but his eyes locked onto his name in the first sentence. He also caught the word blond. The article obviously had a full description of him. The fact that the article also had his name was extremely disturbing. Daphne had called him Justina several times while giving him his makeover, so the thought crept into his mind that calling himself a name that was so close to his own, on top of the fact that Daphne had insisted on buying him blonde wigs rather than another color (she claimed it would be less noticeable in case his own hair poked out), made Justin very nervous. Apparently this story was important enough to make the front pages more than once already and who knew how far the news would travel. What if someone noticed the glaring similarities between the young blond Justin and the young blonde Justina? Justin moved on to his sleeper car with this thought nervously chasing itself around in his head.

The sleeper car was full of activity as he entered it. There were women everywhere. It looked like the entire car had been booked by the all girl orchestra that Daphne had mentioned from the newspaper article. He was still awed by Daphne's cleverness in getting him a berth in the same car as the actual orchestra members. Some stood around talking and laughing while others were searching out their private sleeping berths and stowing away their luggage. Many had instrument cases in hand. Justin recognized a couple of violin cases and a trumpet case. He assumed that there were a lot more instruments that had been stowed in the baggage car since this was not a small group of musicians. There had to be at least twenty ladies present. Justin kept his head low as he hurried down the row of berths looking for his number. It turned out to be the last upper berth on the left side of the car and he hurriedly tossed his suitcase, and makeup case onto the bedding.

Before he had the chance to climb the small ladder to reach the upper berth, the door leading to the next car opened suddenly letting in a whoosh of cool air from the outside and a firmly packed middle aged lady with flaming red hair and cheerful smile. The lady, who several of the women called out to with a hearty 'Miss Debbie', almost knocked Justin off his feet when she caught him by surprise with his foot planted on the bottom rung of the ladder. He swung away from the ladder to avoid falling and 'Miss Debbie' caught him up by the arm and helped him to steady himself. She immediately began to apologize but then stopped dead in her tracks.

"I'm sorry," she began, "I wasn't watching where I was going. I...ahh, I'm sorry but I don't recognize you and I know all my girls. Are you sure you have the right car?" Justin was about to stammer out some answer, when the redhead suddenly stopped him by answering her own question. "Oh of course, you must be the replacement Lou found for me for Carol. Pity really... her finding out she was pregnant at the last minute and hubby refusing to let her take the trip. She really has a lovely voice, but I'm sure yours is fine too. I didn't get the chance to talk to Lou before we left so I didn't get your name."

'Miss Debbie' waited for Justin to give his name. He panicked. Justin started to give the name he and Daphne had practiced but at the last second he remembered the danger in using a name too close to his own. He searched his mind for a good name. Like a light bulb going off over his head he could hear his Mom calling him by the pet name she had used so often when he was a young boy... Sunshine. The words jumped out of his mouth without another thought.

"Sunny.... they call me Sunny... ahh... Chambers. It's a name that my Mom used to use all the time instead of my real name and it kind of stuck." Justin tried smiling disarmingly, while praying his voice sounded high enough to pass as feminine.

"Sunny? I like it. It suits you, my dear. You have the sunniest smile I've seen in a long time. Well Sunny, I look forward to hearing you sing tomorrow, but I'm sure you'll be fine. Lou has an eye for talent. It's getting late now so why don't you get settled in and I'll introduce you to the rest of the girls at breakfast." She turned to the rest of the ladies who were half listening to their exchange and half taking care of their own business. "Okay girls, I want you to get settled for the night and I expect everyone to meet me in the dining car at seven sharp. We will have breakfast and then retire to the observation car. The conductor has been gracious enough to allow us the use of it for a little practice session. So get a good night's sleep, and I'll see you then. As you know my son, Michael, and brother, Vic, and I will be in Rooms 4A and 4B one car down from here in case you need us for anything."

Everyone stopped what they were doing long enough to offer their thanks, acknowledge her instructions, and wish 'Miss Debbie' a good evening, and then resumed all the chattering and settling-in the moment the door to the car closed behind her. Justin breathed a deep sigh of relief that he had gotten over his first hurdle, although he was certain it was only the easiest one. The band leader hadn't even blinked or shown any suspicions of Justin, and they were almost nose to nose as they talked in the cramped space. It was obvious that the other ladies present were well acquainted with each other, and only gave Justin a passing glance of curiosity as they went about their business. Justin hurriedly climbed up to his berth. The less time he was exposed to scrutiny on this first night the better in his opinion. Morning was time enough to deal with convincing everyone around him that he was just one of the girls. Now all he had to do was pass as female AND a singer. That part was going to be easier than he and Daphne had hoped for. Justin really had no experience on any instrument, but he had always had a really nice voice and had often sang in his church choir from the time he was little. Luck had been on his side once more. With his high singing voice he might be able to pull off a charade as a singer, whereas he was certain he would have failed as a musician. As Justin pulled out the long nightdress that Daphne had bought him, he closed the curtains on the berth and prayed he'd get through the masquerade during the night.

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Later That Same Evening- New York City:

Detective Brian Kinney checked his notepad again and made sure he had the right address. He had finally gotten the name of the young man that the maid had seen in the murder room of the Vanderbeke estate and was now on the hunt to find him. He had spent the entire day checking out the young man's home address and talking to friends, classmates, teachers, and relatives. He hadn't been seen at his apartment since early the day before, and his classmates at the art academy he attended had nothing new to offer. Brian got a funny feeling after talking with the parents. The father, one Craig Taylor, was very aloof and didn't even seem interested in why the police were looking for his son. Brian could tell immediately that there was bad blood of some kind between father and son. Brian couldn't help wondering why the friends and teachers spoke so highly of Justin Taylor and yet the father was giving him an entirely different picture of the young artist. Mr. Taylor even indicated that he wasn't surprised that his son had gotten into trouble, whatever it was about. When Brian mentioned that he was investigating a murder, Brian heard Mrs. Taylor gasp audibly but Mr. Taylor still seemed undisturbed. Brian left the large house in the nicer part of the city with mixed images. Was Justin Taylor a sweet young man who wouldn't hurt a fly, or a kid who was looking for trouble?

It was getting late by the time he had interviewed the parents, and the only helpful information he walked away with was the name of Justin Taylor's closest friend since early childhood and her address. Brian decided that this would be his last stop for the night. He would pick up the investigation in the morning. Now he stood outside Daphne Chander's door. He was dead tired. He must have interviewed a couple of dozen people already, and he was nowhere near discovering young Taylor's whereabouts yet. He had expected to have this whole thing wrapped up in no time. An APB had gone out on the young man, but he had simply dropped off the face of the earth. He hadn't been spotted at any of the logical places one would go to skip town... the bus station, train station, or even the airport. There was no knowledge of him owning or having access to a vehicle. But Brian knew he was somewhere and he would be found... sooner or later.

With that thought in mind, he knocked on Miss Chander's door. He hoped this interview would yield something for him to go on and give him a chance to knock off for the night. He had a favorite bar where his 'special' friends and he could safely mingle for the evening, and Brian was very much in the mood for just such a night. He started to knock a second time when the door was yanked open. He came face to face with a lovely young lady with exotic features and dark eyes. She looked him over carefully and then spoke.

"What can I do for you?" she asked the detective.

"Miss Daphne Chanders? My name is Detective Brian Kinney. I would like to speak with you about a close friend of yours, a Mr. Justin Taylor. You know him, do you not?"

"Yes, of course I do. We grew up together. May I see your badge please."

Brian brought his badge out and waited for the young lady to usher him into her apartment.

"I have a few questions, if you don't mind, Miss Chanders."

She hesitated for only a brief second, but Brian noticed it.

"Of course I don't mind, but what is this all about?"

"I'm investigating a murder in which your friend may have been a witness?" he lied. He noticed that there was no look of surprise on the young lady's face.

"Murder? Whose murder?"

"Mr. Oscar Vanderbeke. You know of him?"

"Of course. He's a patron of the arts and is helping Justin to get discovered. So who do they think murdered him?"

Brian also noticed that she didn't ask how he was murdered, as most folks do first thing when told of something so horrendous.

"We're not sure yet, but your friend was at the house at the same time as the murder so we would like to speak with him in case he saw something. We haven't been able to locate him yet. His parents told us that you two were very close, and I thought maybe you would have some idea where he may have gone. I mean, if he witnessed something so upsetting he might have come to you about it."

"Well no, I haven't seen him in a couple of days," she answered almost too quickly. "I wish I could help you, but if Justin is in trouble, I'm sure he'll let me know. I'll be happy to call you if I do hear from him."

She didn't sound happy at all.

"Well, I'd really appreciate that, Miss Chanders. We just need to get some things straight with the young man so that we can continue on with the investigation." Brian fished out a card from his breast pocket. "If you hear from him, will you give me a call or pass on my number to your friend?"

"Yes, of course I will," Daphne answered in her most sincere voice.

Brian started to move to the door when he noticed a notepad on the telephone stand next to the entryway. He stopped suddenly and turned to the young lady again.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you think I could trouble you for a glass of water? It has been a trying day and I've been on the move almost non-stop. I'm quite parched, and I still have more to do before I can head home."

Daphne hesitated again. All she wanted to do was get this man out of her apartment and go to bed. Today had been one of the most exhausting of her life, and she was extremely worried about whether Justin would be able to pull off the charade he was going through. The last thing she needed was some good looking detective in her living room posing questions to her that she had no intention of answering truthfully. But she decided it would appear suspicious if she rushed him out the door, so she asked him to wait right where he was, and she hurried off to her small kitchen to fill a glass from her tap.

Brian didn't hesitate for a second. The moment the young lady left the room he looked at the notepad. It had a train number, track number, and time written on it. The time was almost two hours earlier. He committed the information to memory and quickly moved back to the entryway just as Daphne came back with the glass in hand. Brian swallowed the water down quickly and thanked her profusely for her kindness. He got her assurance again that she would call if she had anything new to tell him and then closed the door behind him as Brian stepped back into the hallway. Brian quickly copied down what he had read into his own notepad and hurried back to the station house. If his suspicions were correct he just might have to make a trip out of town, and he needed to talk to his superiors first. It looked like his drinks and 'whatever' with his friends would have to wait for a little while.

To be continued..........................