Haskin was impressed with Archer’s assembling the information provided and making conclusion.
“Yes. Another year passes. Our scientist is wrecked with guilt. He consults his rabbi. Lucky for me, the rabbi is one that I have worked with before.”
“Meaning he assisted you in acquiring antiquities.”
“Correct.”
“Why you?”
“Two reasons. Money and money. I have the money to look for the object. And, I have the money to make it worth his while for the information.”
“What is the object?”
“The tablets. The Ten Commandments. The scrolls tell the story of a young acolyte of the high priests in the Temple of Solomon. The temple was built in the tenth-century BCE. There were constant wars with neighbors. You probably know all of this. One of the neighbors was Babylon. The high priests must have feared the capture of the tablets. The Babylonians were becoming stronger and more reaching with their conquests. The acolyte was part of a small group of high priests who secreted a parcel out of the temple one night and traveled toward Haifa. The acolyte was along to tend their needs. He was evidently a good listener and his position was one of invisibility to those of higher rank. He learned they carried the tablets. Eventually, they reached Haifa and Mt. Carmel. The Scrolls say that the acolyte remained with the animals as the high priests took the tablets up Mt. Carmel. They did not return. Then the information we have is sketchy. The acolyte states that the next day he saw the tablets leave the mountain heading to the north.”
“What did the acolyte do then?” Chad asked.
“He hightailed it for Greece. He assimilated himself into that culture. Fifty years later, Persia defeated Babylon. They set up an administrative division that included Judea. Persia was so widespread, they were more tolerant of religions. The acolyte returned. Perhaps the rabbi and scientist know more than that. That is all the rabbi shared with Boyer.”
“No clue where the tablets went then?”
“No, not at that time. That is why I hired Dr. Clark and why I would like to hire you. With Dr. Clark’s reports and perhaps his notebooks, you can quickly follow his path. Assimilate the information he had and learn more. We hope you will learn where they were shipped or who had them. Dr. Clark felt he learned of clues that would lead to or reveal the location.”
“Intriguing, as I said before. But, you realize it might be a dead end.”
“I’ll take the risk. Here is what I offer. Twenty thousand a month for May through July. A one hundred thousand bonus, if you find them by the end of July. I pay all expenses, first class, or my jet if needed.”
“I don’t think you will get your money’s worth for May. I still have classes and finals.”
“Work the weekends?”
“Sure. Your dime. Do you have a place for me to start?”
“The rabbi. He is expecting you next Saturday.”
Part 3
Archer’s Quest
Chapter 34
Archer sat at his kitchen table Tuesday morning. He had been gone a week. The milk and Fiber One was a welcome alternative to the large, fatty meals he consumed lately.
“Hello.” He answered his buzzing cell phone.
“Dr. Archer, this is Detective Sergeant Moffat. Did I wake you?”
“No. I’ve been up. As a matter of fact, I just finished a fry up.”
“Hah! Mister eat-nutritious having a fry up? Even a bad detective can see that’s a lie. And, I’m a good detective.”
“It’s nice to hear your voice, Sandy. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How was the funeral?”
“It was a good step toward closure. I still feel the shock. Thanks for asking. What prompted you to brighten my day?”
“I wanted to let you know that I rechecked all the steps the constables took that night. I interviewed more patrons and workers at the pub. I learned nothing new except that Dr. Clark’s wallet wasn’t on him that night.”
“What do you mean? I thought the police had it?”
“We did, but not until morning. We found it under a parked car in the daylight. All we had that night was his passport. That’s how we knew who he was and contacted the embassy. When the wallet was found, the constable found a room key in it. When they went to the hotel, they learned you were arriving that morning.”
“Sandy, isn’t it suspicious that his wallet was not in his pocket?”
“I thought so as well. It could be that he was taking it from his pocket, perhaps to remove his room key. Do you know him well enough to know if he usually kept it in his wallet?”
“Yes. It was his routine. Henry has OCD. He was all about routine.”
“I see. Did he usually keep money in his billfold or did he keep it in a money clip?”
“In his wallet. Organized. Smaller bills at the back, larger ones in the front. There wasn’t any money in his wallet, was there?”
“No.”
“Are you thinking he was mugged?” Chad asked.
“Perhaps.”
“A crime of convenience, Sandy? Or a planned robbery?”
“That’s the question isn’t it?”
“Could he have been drugged and then robbed?”
“That would be a lot of work for a few bills. Chad, I’ll keep looking at it, but you should let it go. Move on.”
“You are probably right, But, you’ll let me know if you learn more?”
“I will, Chad.”
A thought occurred to him. “Sandy, have the personal effects been sent to his daughter?”
“I asked. They went out Thursday afternoon. Probably arrived yesterday.”
Chad changed the subject. “What will the Detective Sergeant be up to this weekend for fun?”
“I was thinking of hanging around the York hotels again looking for a tall, good looking, red-headed man. I got lucky last week. Maybe I’ll get lucky again. I might take him for a walk around the town. I’ll show him the really interesting parts this time.”
“You’re shameless, Sergeant. And, a tease.”
“I know. But, I’m good at it. What are your plans?”
“I have a project to work on. I’m taking over for Doc. I met his employer over the weekend at the funeral. I’ll probably be traveling. I need to see my Dean this morning, and my finals are today. I should be done with the semester except for reading and grading the term papers. I can do that all electronically from anywhere.”
“That’s good news. You will be coming back to York?”
“Eventually, I guess. Not right away.”
“That sounds exciting. Luck to you, then.”
“Thanks, Sandy. Good luck to you as well.” Chad added, “With the loitering and soliciting.”
“Yuk. Yuk. I’ll call you next week. Bye.”
Chapter 35
Archer was in his office at school later posting final grades. The finals, a five-person group exercise with unannounced topics had gone well. Chad loved to see how his students could think on their feet and work as a team. Part of the grade was the team success and part individual effort to achieve team success. That’s what it took on a dig. Chad felt they should learn it now.
Without losing his focus, he picked up the ringing office phone.
“Chad Archer,” he said.
“Professor, it’s Mac. I was sorry to hear about Dr. Clark. How are you doing?”
It took a couple seconds for Chad to remember Detective MacDonald.
“Thanks, Mac. I’m doing okay. It was a shock.”
“I understand.”
Thinking of Henry, jarred loose a thought, one that occurred to Chad after his conversation with Sandy.
“Mac, Dr. Clark died under what I would call unusual circumstances.”
“Like what?” the detective asked.
“I think he was drugged in a pub and then a stranger helped him walk out and robbed him. Have you run into that before?”
“Sounds like the Good Samaritan.”
“The what?”
“Do you know the biblical story of the Good Samaritan? Helps a stranger that was robbed and beat up. Gives the victim all his money then is on his way.”
“Yeah, I know it. Only this seems like it is the other way around. The Good Samaritan takes the money.”
“That’s right. There has been a series of the Good Samaritan attacks in Boston and other large cities. I can tell you more about it this afternoon if you like. I was calling to ask for your help in our dead lawyer case. Would you have a little time?”
“Sure. Where and when? Another chalk outline on a sidewalk?”
“No, not this time. How about Headquarters, Schroeder Plaza, five this afternoon?”
“I’ll be there.”
Chad hung up. The Good Samaritan, he thought. It wasn’t hard to imagine the process. Drug a target. Help him. Rob him. Dump the wallet. But it was risky that someone would remember you. And who carries enough money to make the risk worth the payoff? There must be more to it.
-----
It was Chad’s first trip to Boston’s Police Headquarters. The simple sign in front of the four-story glass-walled building simply said Boston Police. Chad wondered about the tall radio tower in front of the building next to the sign. Had to be an afterthought. Too distracting.
Parking, Chad looked over the modern building and thought it didn’t accurately reflect nearly two hundred years of law enforcement.
Inside, through security, Jimmy MacDonald waited.
They rode the elevator to the third floor and then walked past large work areas with small signs designating their area of investigations – narcotics, robbery, and homicide.
“Coffee?” Mac asked.
“Sure.”
Mac worked the buttons on a fresh-every-time machine, handing Chad a cup and then getting one for himself.
“This destroys my image of thick, overheated, muddy police coffee and institutional metal desks covered with open case folders,” Chad told him.
“Sorry. I’ll try to make up for it.” Mac pointed to his desk, cluttered with files and papers. “The phone is twenty years old, too.”
“Great. Now I can get into the spirit,” Chad smiled. He took a chair next to the desk.
“Tell me more about the Good Samaritan?” Chad asked. “Seems like a lot of work for a few bucks.”
“I’ll summarize it for you. Basically, they go after credit cards and they do it in such a way they are not missed by the victim. Not missed right away. So, they have an opportunity to run up tens of thousands of dollars before it is noticed.”
“How do they do that?”
“There is a team. One selects a mark. Usually alone. Looks like money. These robberies take place in some higher end bars. Even hotel bars. One of the team starts drinking with the mark, drugs the drink, so that the mark looks really sloshed. Another of the team steps up and helps him or her out of bar – the Good Samaritan. They take the wallet for about ten minutes. They have a van set up with computers to steal the identity, just long enough to use the card.”
“What is happening to the mark or victim?” Chad asked.
“He or she stumbles to their car or room. Then the wallet gets returned to the Good Samaritan. The Samaritan makes an issue that the mark shrugged off their help. Then he finds the wallet left in the bar and gives it to the barman. It does not look like a robbery. They leave the money and cards all intact. It’s the next day before the card spending is noticed.”
“Wow. Maybe that was what happened to Doc. Except his wallet showed up outside and empty the next morning.”
“How did he die?”
“Car accident.”
“I could see that perhaps his death prevented them from getting the wallet back into the bar. So they emptied it and made it look like a mugging.
“Perhaps,” Chad said. Well, that is one more theory that points to an accidental death. If it were the Good Samaritan theft, they wouldn’t want the victim to die. “Would it be okay if a Detective Sergeant in York calls you?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks. Her name is Sandy Moffat. Now tell me about your case.”
“Ten days now, we’ve been looking for the girl. We expected a second try on the blackmail, since the first time failed. We have undercover teams hanging out in Southie trying to spot her. We haven’t shown her picture around yet. We don’t want to spook her.”
“What do you think, Mac?”
“I think she’s dead. Along with her helper.”
“Why?”
“Twenty thousand in blackmail might be the going price of things like infidelity, minor embezzlement, or a witness a theft. But the lawyer Moore skimmed five grand. Doesn’t he risk the target finding out? No. Because he was a go between, a negotiator. This was not a one-time payment. This was an initial show of faith. Show me the money and show me some evidence. This is an expensive blackmail. So what is the real amount? Ten times that? Fifty times that? A million dollars?”
“The girl and guy were in over their head, weren’t they?” Chad asked.
“Yeah. Amateurs. The mark would have sent somebody better than Moore. Someone who could trail the blackmailers. See what they are all about. Someone capable of stopping them. A Cleaner. I believe he was there. I believe after ten days, he’s cleaned it up. They’re dead.”
“What do you do to check that out?”
“Look in the morgue. Look into missing persons. We found nothing.”
“And the lawyer?” Chad asked. “Any leads?”
“We’re stuck. Our dead lawyer has lawyered up,” MacDonald said.
“What? How’s he do that?” Chad asked.
“He left word to contact his lawyer and not allow access to his office. We did get some info. Phone records, bank records, and credit card records. We could not get access to his files, or his computer, based on client confidentiality. The judge upheld it and didn’t give us a warrant.”
“So, let’s see what we have for forensic history, Mac. Girl discovers some secret. Has to be worth a hundred thousand, or a million, if your fifty-to-one assumption is true. She contacts Mr. Big. How? In turn, Mr. Big either knows Moore or uses a firm that knows Moore. Moore is to make payment and is the contact with the girl. It goes wrong. Moore dies. Girl and guy are followed by a Cleaner. They’re dead.”
“That’s how I see it. What would you do next, Chad?”
“Make two lists. One is any important person, or law firm who serves important people, that Moore has had a contact with. The second is a small list of Bostonians, and their lawyers, who have that much to lose. High profile politicians, or the very, very, rich. See who is on both lists.”
“We think alike. We did that. We added people who might be involved in a crime. Maybe even at risk of losing a wealthy spouse who has a pre-nup. We also looked for any contacts Moore had with people in low places. Maybe Moore worked for the Cleaner as you called it.”
“Did you find anything?”
“We followed up records for Moore going back two years. We found interaction with three high-powered law firms. One attorney was in a firm with many partners. He was a junior partner. We didn’t see him fitting the profile. The other two were in firms with small exclusive client lists. The attorneys handled only three to five each. We checked out seven of the eight clients. Three of the seven are possibilities for the blackmail target. One is a politician, one is old Boston money, and one may have ties to the mob. We asked the organized crime unit to background the mob connection for us. Have not heard back. We are running finances on all three.”
“Good work, Mac. That leaves one more client out of eight.”
“Right. I meet with him tomorrow at four in the afternoon. Want to come?”
“Sure. Have to ask, Mac. Why did you need me? Orders from your lieutenant again.”
“No. Not this time. It was all me. This had me stumped. I wanted to have another good brain look at it. My partner and I have good instincts. I wanted to make sure we didn’t over-instinct it a
nd looked for facts, forensic facts.”
“Well, thanks. Why isn’t your partner going with you tomorrow?”
“Cause he thinks even less of this guy than I do. I need a cool, calm, scientific observer.”
“Who is it?” Chad asked.
“Brian Biskell.”
“The car czar?”
Chapter 36
Archer received a FedEx package from Julie on Wednesday morning. She sent a note that said she had received it from the York police and didn’t want to go through it. Could Chad do that?
Chad cleared a space and pulled the box in front of him. It felt like he was opening up a part of Henry’s death. He didn’t want to reopen all the emotions he felt this past week. Slowly he removed the lid. He took out Henry’s watch. Julie would want that. There was some English currency - a few bills, a few coins. His wedding ring. A set of keys. Next he removed a Swiss Army knife, a passport, wallet, and three books – the pocket calendar and two journals - the daily activity dig journal, and the larger daily project report journal. He glanced through them. Sparse and cryptic like Boyer and Haskin said. The third journal, Doc’s Reflections, was missing. Chad made a mental note to call Sandy about it.
Chad opened the wallet. One side was water stained, the other wasn’t. Probably from lying on the ground under the car. The moisture only penetrated the outside of the wallet. Pictures and papers inside were dry. There was no money in it. Most likely taken by the Samaritans. Chad made a small pile of credit cards, license, health insurance cards, and store cards.
He stared at everything. Something seemed odd. It was the wallet. How was it wet on only one side if it sat under a car all night? It should be totally dry, or if it was in a stream of water, totally wet.
-----
The Professor looked out at the North Sea though his large windows. The gray sky and angry waves matched his mood. The daylight in St. Andrews would hold on for several more hours at this time of the year. Sunset would be nine thirty, he thought. It’s days like this that Mother Nature wasn’t fair. Days like this should end sooner. The first bad news came last Saturday when he learned that Haskin was in Madison, Georgia. He sent people there.
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