Code Name: Crescent: A Matt Preston Novel

by Paul Shadinger

  I opened her door and Gladys was still laughing when I got behind the wheel. “Oh goody!” I was surprised, for all of her class there was still a nice chunk of good old nasty about her as well.

  That evening I did my best to show her just what an old man was capable of.

  And even better, how things work the next morning as well.

  CHAPTER 17

  RETURN TO ROSS ISLAND

  Today was going to be a day of celebration for me, and for Beanie it was her first trip to a beach. I was celebrating my freedom and the fact that I was totally off the hook as far as Cox’s death was concerned.

  The newspapers were having a field day with the Cox murder once the news regarding the rapes got out. The juicy details about Ambruster hunting Cox down and killing him were daily fodder. I did think one paper went a bit overboard with the headline, ‘The Butler Really Did It.’ Ambruster was a lot more than a butler to Samara and Kim.

  Ambruster was recovering and there was a lot of legal maneuvering over what the charges would be. I’d lost count of the number of women who were coming forth and relating tales about that rat bastard Cox. The newspapers had vilified him and the University was doing all it could to distance itself from the whole ugly mess. The media was making Ambruster out to be a saint. Krista Sellers had agreed to handle his case and he was getting the best representation he could ever want. If there was any way for him to get off, I was positive Krista was going to find it. Between the positive press and a stellar attorney, Ambruster was in great hands.

  I was headed for my favorite beach on Whidbey Island. I remembered the first time I had taken BJ there and how much she had enjoyed running up and down the beach as fast as she could. Whenever I took BJ to the beach, she would be so exhausted I’d have to pick her up and set her in the truck. I had made the mistake one time of just putting her on the floor and then I had to stop and pick her up and put her on the seat, she was too exhausted to climb up without help. For the rest of the trip home, she didn’t move a muscle. The next day every time she moved she groaned. Her first trip to the beach had been perfect.

  Beanie had been on a ferry before, but she had never explored a shoreline. After we got off the ferry, we drove up the island to a small road where I can park the truck near the water. Once we hit the beach and I released Bean, she was gone. For a while all I saw was a small brown speck off in the distance, and then she came running back as fast as her little legs would go. She raced around me a couple of times, barked twice and then off she went running down the beach the other way. I chose today since the tide would be out further than any other day for the next four weeks.

  As we rounded the promontory, I was greeted by a totally empty bay. The tide was completely out, revealing a huge expanse of beach. There were a few tidal pools, but for the most part, the bay was now just tidal flats. Bean saw a flock of seagulls walking out on a sandy spit and she took off at a dead run, barking as she went. The birds seemed to know just how close they could let her get to them before they went wheeling off into the air, their cries sounding like they were laughing at her, teasing her because she couldn’t catch them. For the next half hour, Bean chased them, only to have them fly off at the last moment every time she got close.

  I found a log and sat down, using it as a backrest. I’ve always enjoyed the beach, but today it was extra special. I was savoring every little morsel of the experience. This was so much better than sitting in a jail cell wondering what was going to happen to my sorry ass. The heat of the sun felt good and Bean’s antics amused me. As I sat there, I must’ve dozed off for a moment, because the next thing I was aware of was Bean crawling into my lap, wet, sandy and stinky. I kept pushing her away and she couldn’t understand why I didn’t want a stinky, sandy, soaked dog curled up in my lap.

  I reached into my backpack and pulled out a dish and a gallon jug of water. I was sure she was thirsty and I didn’t want her trying to drink saltwater from the Sound. She lapped up the water and when she was finished, the bottom of the pan was covered in sand washed from her face as she drank. For a long time, we sat there, side by side, looking out across the empty bay. Eventually Bean got bored and started to walk out across the flats again. I decided I needed to get my lazy butt in gear as well so I stood and followed her.

  As we walked across the bay, when I would come to a tide pool I’d just walk through it. Bean followed and as I walked through one that was deeper than the rest, she found it necessary to swim part of the way. When we got to the other side, she made sure she was standing right next to me when she shook off. She was determined to share. I laughed and as I tried to move away from her, she followed me.

  We continued on until we got to the other side of the bay and started to round the next point. I looked back to where I had grounded our stuff. We hadn’t seen anybody so far and I thought it was safe to leave our gear unguarded. As I started to turn back, I happened to glance up at the bank above where I had been sitting. The bank was made of sand and clay and was between eighty to a hundred feet high. Above where we had been sitting on the beach, I spotted a crack in the bank. I thought the crack was in the shape of a partial moon… like a crescent moon!

  In that instant, I had a flash.

  Crescent!

  I can’t begin to explain how the human mind works. Why something will click in the brain and start a flow of information, and the strange thing is somehow the trigger that makes everything happen is so obscure. Why would a scar on the bank start me thinking along the lines my mind started to run? I thought about when Hollis was on the run, how he could have gone anywhere he wanted. He knew he was being chased; he knew he was a wanted man. When he was at Lan’s apartment, Hollis had talked to somebody on the phone. Lan had heard him tell somebody he was going to a lighthouse on an island and I had found him there. Why had he gone to that lighthouse? What was there that I had missed? I knew Hollis had grown up on the island and knew it well, but it was an island, not an easy place to escape from. Why would he go to a place he had to have known was going to be difficult to escape from?

  As I trudged down the beach after Bean, my mind drifted back to that day in the tower. I tried to remember everything I’d seen as I crawled up towards the lighthouse that day. I remembered the sounds the bugs were making and the feel of the sand on my hands as I crawled towards the tower. I remembered the scent of the bushes and how I had felt seeing Sakol lying wounded on the ground. I remembered how sad I was that he might be dead, and how happy I was when I saw him move and heard him groan.

  In my mind I once again ran towards the lighthouse, waiting for the feeling of a bullet tearing into my body. I remembered how when I had moved into the cold round dirty tower, there was a difference in temperature between outside and inside of the structure. I looked down and I noticed I actually had goosebumps.

  I recalled what the sound was like when I heard Hollis above me. My mind went carefully over each detail: the feeling of the damp wall of the lighthouse on my hand and moving up the stairs so carefully. Then I remembered how I had slipped and fallen and how lucky I had been that my arm was extended up towards the top of the tower. I still shuddered as I recalled looking up and seeing Hollis pointing a gun down at me. Again I heard report and I felt the hot pain in my thigh. My hand actually went down to the scar and it felt as if I had just been shot again. I remembered seeing the wound blossom on his chest from my bullet and I saw him fall backwards.

  I forced my mind to go back once more to climbing the tower, going up each step, carefully up and up while keeping my eyes trained on the opening above my head, never looking down until I tripped.

  Tripped!

  My mind stopped. Mentally I went back down a couple of steps and then tried to remember each step up. Tripped! Why? Why had I tripped? As far as I remembered, every step had been the same height, so uniform that I didn’t even think about my ascent. I had been able to move up the stairs with such ease, and then
BANG! I never did look at what tripped me. And on the way down out of the tower, I was passed out. From the time I lay my head on the cold floor until I woke up in the hospital bed, there was nothing.

  Ross Island was just one island over from where Bean and I were, and I knew there was a little ferryboat that ran between the islands. Since we were this close, I decided to go visit Ross Island. I wanted to go up the steps in the old lighthouse one more time. This time I was going to examine each step very carefully. I called to Beanie and we headed off to pick up our stuff and head over to Ross.

  There was a long line of cars waiting at the ferry when we got there, much longer than I had expected and I was surprised. A skinny little older gentleman was sitting under a tree when we pulled up. Once I was stopped, he stood, dusted off the seat of his pants and then came over to my truck. The old fella was wearing filthy tan pants and his red woolen plaid shirt had seen better days. His face was covered in gray stubble and when I put my window down I noticed he really needed a bath. Even from a few feet away he smelled bad. When he spoke he revealed spaces between his yellowed teeth. He started the conversation with, “Tide’s out.”

  “I take it that screws up the ferry?” I asked.

  He looked at me as if I wasn’t playing with a full deck of cards. “Well of course.” He spat out some vile looking dark yellow liquid from his mouth onto the ground. “It’s way too shallow for the ferry to pull into the slip. Fucking government too cheap to fix it. Pays my taxes and they just fritter the money away. Fucking crooks.”

  “Any idea how long before the ferry can move?” I could see the ferry was only about fifty feet away from the dock with a few cars stuck on board.

  “Bout half hour or so, I reckon.” Another wad of yellow spit hit the pavement.

  “Will all of us fit on the ferry going over?”

  “Yeah, but not too many more.” Once more with the yellow spit. I had considered letting Beanie out for a quick run, but there was no way I wanted her to get near the old man’s spit.

  “Well, thanks for the info.”

  The old fellow wasn’t done with me yet. “What ya want on the island?” He pointed off towards Ross Island.

  “I wanted to see the lighthouse,” I told him. I wasn’t too keen on sharing my reasons for visiting.

  “It’s closed ya know?”

  “Yeah, I know, I just want to walk around and look at things.”

  “Durn fool, ain’t nothin’ to look fur. Fort’s gone. Lighthouse is almost falled down too. What’cha wants over der?”

  “I just want to look around.”

  “Waste of time if ‘n ya asked me. Tower ain’t safe neither.” Some more yellow spit hit the ground. I was surprised there was that much room in the old guy’s mouth.

  “Well, I had some time to kill and I always wanted to see the island.”

  “Waste of time…” The old man had started to move away, calling back over his shoulder, “Durn young people today, don’t listen to a thing, just fritter away their time. Harrumph!” A new car had pulled up behind me and the old fella had somebody new to explain the reason we were waiting.

  It didn’t take much more than the promised half hour. I felt sorry for those stuck on the boat. None of the drivers seemed very happy as they drove over the gangway and away down the island. It must have been very frustrating to have to just sit a few feet from the dock and not be able to do anything about it.

  Soon it was our time to pull onto the little boat, and the old man who had explained why we had to wait was still standing on the dock talking to those who now had to wait for the ferry to return.

  The ride over was short and I could see even if the ferry had been able to discharge the cars on the other side, it would have been impossible for it to get into the dock on the Ross Island side. We were just able to pull into the dock and I felt it as the keel bumped up onto the sand.

  It was eerie pulling into the parking lot at the fort. I tried to keep the memories out of my head, but it was difficult. Somebody had put up a chain across the parking lot, so I had to park the truck on the road and walk back to the lighthouse. I didn’t know what to expect so I decided to leave Beanie in the truck.

  This time I didn’t need to crawl through the bushes; there was no need to keep myself hidden. As I passed the place where I had seen Sakol lying that day, I thought I saw a dark spot that could have been blood. I tried to keep my mind off those thoughts. I stepped into the cool tower and looked up. I half expected to see Hollis look down at me.

  I started to walk up the stairs circling the inside wall. When I came to each step I looked carefully at it. Did it seem any different than the step before or after? Slowly, step by step, I climbed. A few steps from the top I spotted the step that actually looked a bit different. The step was just a little higher than the steps before and after it. I got down on my knees and looked at it carefully. A person could have passed over that step without ever noticing the slight difference. The only reason I found it was that I knew what I was looking for. My body had been so in tune with the building the day I was stalking Hollis, my feet could tell the difference. I had expected the step to be the same height as the last one and the slight difference had caused me to trip.

  I tried to move the step, but it seemed to be firmly set in place. I knocked on it with my knuckle, but I couldn’t really tap hard enough to tell if it was hollow under the riser. The only thing I got out of knocking on the stone was a sore knuckle. I had a toolbox down in the truck and I went back to get a hammer and a cold chisel.

  When I got back to the step, I took the hammer and rapped on the stone. I tried tapping on the step before and after and I thought it sounded different. It sounded hollow. But the tread was so thick, and being stone, it was difficult to really tell. Taking the cold chisel, I started working on one corner of the tread. I gently tapped back and forth across the lip of the step. Slowly the tread moved a little. Just as I was about to try and pry the step up, I heard voices coming and I quickly pushed it back into place. I stood up and stepped on the tread to try and make it look normal.

  I went ahead and climbed the rest of the way to the top, hiding my tools behind a piece of cement sticking out of the wall. When I looked towards the spot where Hollis had died, there were several dark stains. Even though it had been either kill or be killed, I felt bad it had ended the way it did. At the time, I had hated Hollis with a passion, a hatred I don’t think I’d ever before experienced, but I still regretted taking another person’s life. I think anybody who can take a life and not have a little regret must have something missing in their personality. Back in Nam, when I was positive I had killed someone, even though they were the enemy, I always felt some sorrow.

  The voices turned out to be four boys who were wandering around the fort and the lighthouse. When they got to the top they pointed out the dark spots and one of the boys asked me, “Hey mister, do ya know what them dark spots are?”

  I decided to play dumb. I didn’t want them to know anything about me. “No. Weather stains?”

  “Naw, that’s blood.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, did you hear about the guy getting killed up here? And a bunch of other people got shot here too.”

  The boys were way too excited about people getting killed for my taste. I guess at that age they didn’t understand what death really means. What with today’s video games, you can kill monsters and bad guys and all you have to do is hit the reset button and everybody comes back to life and you get to do it all over again. The sad thing is life doesn’t come with a reset button. When you take a life, that game is over. I was sure none of these boys wanted to listen to an old guy tell them people dying was not a cool thing, so I just kept my mouth shut.

  I decided the boys were going to be in the tower for a while so I went back down to the truck and let Beanie out. For the next few minutes I watched as she ran and I wa
ited for the boys to leave. It seemed like the boys took forever to come back out of the lighthouse. Finally, they left and I made my way back into the tower. Beanie came with me but stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She stood and looked up at the stairs and I could see she was not going to follow me up.

  I slipped up the stairs and retrieved my hidden tools. I went back down to the loose step and started to work it away from the stair riser. Once it was loose in my hand, I was able to pull the stone away.

  There was a small hollow under the stone. The space looked old, as if somebody had chipped away the concrete under the tread a long time ago, and now it was being used as a small secret place to hide something.

  My hands were trembling as I reached down to pick up the contents of the small cavity. I could feel my heart racing and the hair on my arms stood up. I could see a little box and under that was a badly deteriorated leather pouch, both of them stuffed into the small hollow. I carefully lifted up the box so I could get a better look at the pouch. On the front cover of the pouch I could just make out a mark embossed in the leather.

  It was a sliver of…?

  The embossed pattern was shaped like a crescent!

  My hands were trembling so badly I dropped the chisel.

  CHAPTER 18

  Code Name: CRESCENT

  I can’t begin to describe how much I wanted to open the box and the pouch in front of me. But I knew kneeling there on the stairs was not the best place to do it. I was concerned the boys might return or somebody new might show up. I wasn’t comfortable staying too long in the tower. I pulled the box and the pouch from their hiding place and then slipped the step back into the notch I had pried it from. As I tapped the tread back into place I noticed a small indentation on the edge of the tread closest to the wall. I wiped the indentation off with my hand as it was covered with dirt and grime deposited there over time. Had I not been down on my hands and knees I would never have seen it. There, on the edge of the stone, was a crescent, a small sliver of moon carved into the rock. Who had carved the crescent into the stone? But even more important, who had hidden the two items in the riser? I thought it might be Hollis since he wanted to come and visit the tower before he died, but that was just a guess on my part. What I also found strange was the evident age of the crescent mark on the stair; it would have meant Hollis had put the box and pouch up in the lighthouse a long time ago, or at least the hollow space had been created a very long time ago. There was too much dirt and grime imbedded in the mark for it to have been during the time Hollis was on the run. No, this was something that had been created a long time ago. More mysteries to ponder at a later time.