by J. M. LeDuc
“All safety deposit boxes require two keys to open them. The owner has one and the bank has the other, the master key. This helps with security. But the bank doesn’t have the master key to box number zero zero one. It was assumed that it had been lost years ago.”
Brent knew his next statement left him and Chloe open for attack, but he had to take the chance. “I have both keys in my possession. So, if you could please check the paperwork.”
Jody was flustered to say the least, but she regained her composure and went to the safety deposit-owner log on her computer. She typed in, zero, zero, one, and waited for the computer to give her an owner confirmation. A list of names came up. Brent’s was the last, making him the current owner of box number zero, zero, one. “You are the rightful owner of the box. I see by the list of past owners that you had relatives who owned the box before you. A father, maybe?”
“May I have a look at the list?”
“Sure, as the owner, you have full access to all of the files that pertain to it.”
Jody turned the monitor so that it faced Brent and Chloe. The log showed a list of seven names that dated back to when the bank was first built. The first three were vaguely familiar to Brent. He’d seen their names in his family archives. The last four were very familiar: Jacob Venturi, his grandfather; Jake, Jr., his father; Joseph Conklin; and himself. Brent was surprised, shocked, to see his father’s name on the list. “Is there some way to tell in what year each person owned the box?” he asked.
“Hmmm, let me see. Sort of. I can tell you how long each person had ownership, and you can count backwards from there.”
“That will work. I only need dates for the last two owners.”
“Okay, Joseph Conklin had ownership of the safety deposit box for thirty-three years, and Jacob Venturi, Jr. had ownership for…hmmm, that’s odd. The transfer paperwork that should have been filled out by the owner before him was never completed. Here, take a look. Here’s the actual paperwork scanned into the file. You can see that his name has been scratched out and replaced with the name of Joseph Conklin, and then initialed by Jacob B. Venturi.”
“Makes sense.”
“As long as it makes sense to you.”
“Jody, can you show us where the box is?”
“Sure, follow me.”
Jody turned off the computer and the three of them walked through a security door to the back of the bank, and finally, through a door labeled “Personnel Only.” They walked to a stock room, at which point, Jody, with more than a little embarrassment, turned to face them. “Sorry it’s such a mess back here. Usually, it’s just employees who come back here, so we don’t keep it as clean as we should.”
“No problem,” Brent said. “It looks like the storeroom at the library.”
In the back of the room was a door that appeared to be a closet. “Kind of a strange place for a safety deposit box, isn’t it?”
“This box was built before the rest of our boxes. It really isn’t a box at all,” Jody said as she unlocked the door, “it’s a vault.”
“A vault?”
Jody’s words caused the inner historian in Chloe to light up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Without realizing it, she squeezed Brent’s hand tighter as her anticipation grew.
“Once you’re inside the door, you’ll see a staircase. At the bottom, there’s a metal door. Your keys should be able to open the vault,” Jody said. “I wish I could go with you. I’ve always wondered what was in there, but I’m the only management person working this morning, so I have to stay on the floor. Good luck.”
Brent nodded and Chloe stepped ahead of him. She found a light switch on the wall just inside the door. When she flipped the switch, a dim exposed light bulb hanging from a lone wire flickered. She held onto Brent’s hand as she walked down the old wooden staircase. They could actually smell the years-old moisture in the stairwell.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they silently stared at the vault door in front of them. It was a solid steel door with a large wheel in the middle of it. The wheel had six metal fingers branching off from it like the legs of a spider. Brent let go of Chloe’s hand and lifted the chains from around his neck. Each had a crucifix attached to it, the one from Lucille was slightly smaller than his own. Two keyholes were mounted on the door, one above the wheel and one below it, the top one slightly larger than the bottom one. Brent placed the larger crucifix in the top hole, turned it and tried to spin the wheel. It wouldn’t budge.
“Maybe it’s rusted,” Chloe offered.
“Yeah, maybe. Let me try the other one.” It wouldn’t turn either.
“Now what, Brent?”
“Hold on. I need to think about what Lucille said when she gave me her cross.” Brent closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and thought about the exchange. “She said both keys were necessary to open the safe deposit box.”
“But you tried both.”
“No,” he said hesitantly, “I tried one and then the other. Chloe, put the first key back into the top hole and let’s both turn them at the same time.”
When she’d done that, they turned the wheel at the same time. This time, they heard the locking mechanisms release. They looked at each other and smiled out of relief. The hinges were rusty and the solid steel door was very heavy. Brent put his shoulder into the door and pushed it. Inside the vault was a string hanging from the ceiling. He pulled it toward him, heard a clicking sound and the light turned on.
As their eyes became accustomed to the greenish hue of the old light, they looked around. It was a fairly large room, eight feet by ten feet, and all steel, including the floors. Standing in the middle of the floor was an antique wooden table that dated back to the 1800s. On it stood an old, ancient, wooden chest. It looked to be at least a thousand years old. “Brent, this box isn’t just a box,” Chloe said as she ran her hands along its exterior.
“What does that mean?”
“This wood is thousands of years old, and if I’m not mistaken it has the dimensions of an ark. I’ll bet my reputation on it.”
“Hopefully we’ll find clues to its origin. Let’s take a closer look.”
Two keyholes were aligned on the front of the chest, just as they had been on the door.
Looking around, Chloe said, “It’s spooky down here.”
“Yeah, I know,” Brent said. “It’s sort of Hitchcockian.”
“Nice word.”
“Let’s get whatever is in there and get the heck out of here. Then you can correct my English.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They inserted their crosses into the corresponding keyholes and again turned them clockwise. With great anticipation, Brent used his free hand to slowly open the top of the chest. The aroma of the wood became stronger as the lid was raised. It reminded Brent of the smell of the closet his grandfather remodeled in the master bedroom.
“What kind of wood is that, gramps?” Brent had asked.
“It’s cedar. You should always use cedar if you don’t want the contents of whatever you’re building to mildew. It’s hard for it to decompose and it doesn’t let moisture in.”
Chloe gently ran her hands over the outside and inside of the chest. “Brent this is definitely an Ark of some sort.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Its construction. It’s made out of Shittim wood.”
“Excuse me, what kind of wood?” Brent said.
“Shittim wood is the same as Acacia wood. It was the wood used to construct the Ark.”
“Do you mean the Ark, like the one in the Bible?” Before Chloe could answer, Brent continued. “Just because it’s made out of Acacia wood, what makes you so sure that it’s an Ark?”
“My emphasis in school was on Biblical History. My doctoral thesis was on the construction of The Ark of the Covenant,” Chloe said. “There is no doubt in m
y mind that this is the exact same dimensions and is built with the exact same materials as the Ark. I would stake my reputation on the fact that we are in the presence of an Ark built in the same time frame as The Ark of the Covenant.”
Brent first looked at the Ark and then with astonishment, at Chloe. “You’re sure?”
Nodding her head, Chloe answered, “Yeah, I’m sure, the only thing that is not original are the locks. There would be no key holes or locking mechanism built into an Ark.”
“Why do you think they were added?” Brent asked.
Shrugging her shoulders, Chloe said, “Whoever installed them must have thought its contents were important enough to protect.”
They both just sort of stared in amazement at the ark for a moment and then as if on cue, they simultaneously looked inside. Inside the box were four envelopes, an old piece of parchment paper rolled up scroll-like and tied with a string, and a handgun.
Looking into the box, Brent was stunned. “It can’t be,” he muttered. “How the hell did this get here?”
“What’s wrong? Why are you so shocked? I know you don’t like guns, but—”
“You don’t understand. This isn’t just any gun…it’s my service pistol.”
“Are you sure? I mean, don’t they all look alike?”
Brent smirked while he stared at it. “That would be like you looking at two pairs of black shoes, one yours and one not. Would you be able to tell which ones were yours?”
That she understood. “If it’s your gun, how did it get here?”
“I have no idea,” Brent said. He reached in to pick it up. “Hopefully, one of these envelopes will explain.” As he grasped the pistol’s handle, a wave of security washed over him. Suddenly, he felt a little taller and a lot more confident with it in his hand. He looked closer at it and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was his. It was no ordinary military-issued handgun. It was a Colt M1911A1. The A1 made it different from standard issue. The weapon was handmade and had the proper weight and size to fit Brent’s hand, specifically. Its accuracy was second to none. His mind flashed back to the last time he’d seen it.
“Are you sure, Captain? Just because you’re leaving the military, for now, you might still need your weapon.”
“First of all, Seven, I’m leaving for good. You’ve already tried to make me stay, but I’ve made up my mind.”
“You know as well as I do that once you’re a member of the Phantom Squad, you’re always a member.”
“I know. I’m just trying to think of the glass as being half full. You know if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away.”
“Same here,” Seven said. “Tell you what. I’ll hold onto it for you, but if you ever need it, it’ll be right back in your hand.”
Brent tried not to think about how the pistol had gotten from Seven into the box in a steel vault underneath the First Federal Bank and Trust, but it was hard not to. Just another mystery I hope these documents will resolve, he thought.
While Brent checked out his gun, Chloe looked inside the box. She was examining the four envelopes when she thought she noticed something unusual about the one on the bottom.
“Brent, look at this envelope,” she said, her eyes wide with excitement.
Brent, preoccupied with his own mystery, hadn’t heard her. Chloe nudged him with her elbow. “Hello, earth to Brent.”
“Huh, what?”
Chloe looked like a child on Christmas morning as she held up the off-white-turned-beige, five-by-eight envelope. “Brent, the parchment this envelope is made from is at least one hundred years old, maybe a lot older.”
“Are you sure? How do you know?”
“It’s what I do, remember? This material is not even paper, at least not paper as we know it. It’s a woven cloth used in the mid-to-late 1800s and only used by society’s elite.” On its front, in script, was written “The Endowment.” Turning it over, Chloe was taken aback. “Brent, the envelope is closed with a wax impression of the presidential seal.” She looked at him. “Should we open it?”
“We’ll open all of them, just not here. Let’s go to my office where we’ll have privacy.”
Brent picked up the other three envelopes. One, faded from age, was addressed to “Keeper,” one had his name on it, and the other was addressed to “Maddie Smith.”
“Isn’t that the woman you were telling me about? The black widow, I think you called her.”
“Yeah, sure is.”
“Brent, there’s a piece of paper taped to that envelope.”
Great, more notes, he thought. He opened it and read aloud:
My dear friend, by now I’m sure you have met Miss Smith. I don’t know if she was friendly or adversarial, but I do know that when you get down to the nitty-gritty, you can trust her. Of this, I’m sure. Please make sure she gets this envelope as soon as possible. It’s urgent that she read its contents.
Sincerely, Joseph
P.S. Please take care of Lucille for me.
Brent was a bit stunned, but he knew time was of the essence. He placed the four envelopes and the scroll into his backpack and placed the gun in the waistband of his jeans. He looked at Chloe as if to say, “let’s go.”
Chloe nodded and said, “I hope the safety is on. I wouldn’t want you to hurt anything down there.”
“Everything’s safe, I promise,” he said and lightly kissed her lips. He flung the backpack over his shoulder and closed the top of the chest. They both heard the locking mechanism engage. He put the cross his grandfather had given him around his neck, and the one from Lucille’s around Chloe’s neck. At that moment, she knew without any doubt that they’d be together the rest of their lives.
They left the vault, turned to look at the chest one last time, not knowing if they would ever see it again. Brent shut the steel door and again heard the locking mechanism fall into place. Jody waited for them at the top of the stairs.
“Everything okay?”
“Everything is fine, thanks.”
“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” she asked, hoping for some details.
“It was sort of a history of my family,” Brent said. “You could say it was a family endowment.”
“Exciting,” she replied, with a hint of sarcasm.
The three walked to the front door. Brent thanked her for her help. Before they left, Brent thought to ask Jody, “Can you tell me the last time the safety deposit box was opened?”
“Never. I mean, at least not since I’ve been here, and that’s been fifteen years, in one capacity or another.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely. Access records to the safe deposit boxes date back thirty years. I’d remember if someone came in to access box number zero zero one, that’s for sure. Why? I mean, what makes you ask?”
“Nothing, really. I just wondered who the last person was.”
“Sorry, but there’s no way to tell.”
“It was just curiosity, no worry.”
“Brent, the rain has stopped. We’d better get going while we can,” Chloe said.
“You’re right. Thanks again, Jody.”
“My pleasure. It was nice meeting both of you. Have a great day.”
Brent wore a puzzled look as they walked to the car. “That makes no sense. Those two envelopes had to have been put in the vault recently. Joseph had to have opened the safety deposit box within the past two months. I would guess that he wrote that note about Maddie just before he died.”
“Do you think Jody was lying?”
“No.”
“You seem pretty sure. Why?”
“I could read it in her eyes.”
“How?”
“That was my job, remember?”
“But if she wasn’t lying, then how? She said that nobody but you had keys to the vault, n
ot even the bank has a key.”
“As of yesterday. Before that, Lucille had the one that you’re wearing, and I had the other.”
“Do you think they’re copies?”
“No, and even if there were, it doesn’t explain how he got into the vault.”
“I don’t know,” Chloe said. “I’m so confused at this point, I might believe you if you said it was magic.”
“Lucille said that all our questions could be answered with the contents of the box, in combination with my grandfather’s letter. Let’s hope she’s right.” Brent opened the passenger door for Chloe and then got into the driver’s seat. “We really need to get to my office and read these things.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Your office, I mean. Don’t ya think that it’s being watched?”
“I’m sure of it, but we’re not exactly going in through the front door and they’ll never find us once we’re inside.”
Chloe smiled at Brent’s words.
CHAPTER 29
As they drove, Brent thought about Joseph’s comment that Maddie could be trusted. He still had his doubts. Yes, he decided, Maddie will have to earn my trust. Brent used back roads and alleys to get to the library, even confusing Chloe. He’d figured there would be less chance of being seen this way, and he was right. Unknown to Brent, Thomas and James were parked in front of the library, a block away, waiting and watching for Brent’s arrival. Before getting out of the car, Brent made a quick phone call to Maddie.
Chloe and Brent used his master key to enter the library through the fire door. Joan happened to look up as they walked from the stock room into the main lobby. A little squeal escaped from her as she ran over to hug Chloe. “It’s about time this meathead came to his senses,” she said.
“It’s good to see you again, too, Joan.”
Joan looked at Brent. “Since the two of you came in through the emergency exit, I assume that whatever was going on yesterday is still going on?”
“You can assume so,” Brent said. He told her they were going into his office and told her not to let anyone know. Joan winked at them before she headed back to her desk.