Moffat's Secret

by J. C. Williams

  “What became of the gathering at the chapter house that night?” Chad asked.

  “They were gone by the next morning. It was several years before they returned.”

  “No one noticed?” Chad asked.

  “York was a large city at the time, ten thousand to fifteen thousand people.”

  “What happened to Colin Moffat?”

  “Oh, right. He conveniently disappeared a week after the inquest.”

  “Really?”

  “People thought the dying man told him where the treasure was located. They looked for him as well. They went as far as Scotland. Just north of the border with England is the town of Moffat. It was where his clan was living. They were a suspect lot. They raised sheep and stole sheep. There were many places to hide stolen sheep in the hills nearby. Or hide a man, a man on the run. He was never found.”

  Chad assembled the information quickly and shared his thoughts aloud. “So, the locator stone was taken by the Templars to Stonehenge as the coordinates indicate. Somewhere along the way or when they went there, they met up with a guardian or two. The guardians and the Templars hide the stone at the Minster, a safe haven in England. This incident brings a heightened unwanted attention on the Chapel House meetings. Maybe they were discussing where to move the stone to for safety. Someone overhears the plan. He runs. A guardian, or someone else kills the thief. Maybe, as Aman suggested, there is a guard for the guardians. Maybe Colin Moffat was a guard. The guardians disband but take the stone with them? Or does Colin take the stone with him? Or is he sent to guard it? A lot of speculation.”

  “Here’s more speculation,” she said. “There is a story within Clan Moffat about Colin Moffat. I cannot claim it as a fact. It is said when Colin left a week after the incident, he rode off with two strangers and two Templars. People said he was on a quest for gold. Was it a quest, or could it be as you suggested, was it to move or hide the locator stone?”

  “I need more facts.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Like more information about York Minster. Like a tie into the Templars.”

  “Let’s trade places,” she said. “You drive. I’ve a satellite card in my laptop. I’ll research it.”

  Sandy pulled over.

  Chad hopped out quickly. He wanted to get a look at the car that had been behind them for the last hour and a half.

  He was surprised that the trailing car didn’t pass them. Instead, it pulled over as well, three hundred yards back.

  Chapter 91

  Archer listened as Sandy summarized what she found. He kept an eye on the car behind him. How did they track him? No bugs in the room. He didn’t open his phone. Sandy. They probably have a tracker on her car. They know about her connection to him. How much danger is she in?

  The subject of his concern continued reading to him.

  “Walter de Gray was an important person in Yorkshire and England in the first half of the 1200s, at the time of the second crusader conquest of Jerusalem. It was also the time that the Templars were redefining their income streams without the pilgrimages. Walter became a bishop, signed the Magna Carta and in 1215 went on a secret mission for the King of England. Wonder what that was?”

  “Spy stuff? Make a deal?” Chad asked.

  She continued to read and summarize. “The Templars were smart. Many powerful men owed them money, like the King of France. That might seem to be leverage for Templars, but it also might be a reason to eliminate their Order. The King of France had installed the pope at the time. France and England were fighting each other. The King of England was fighting with the pope over who had what authority to appoint clergy. Perhaps the Templars saw what was coming – England against the team of France and the pope. And, France against the Templars. Perhaps the Templars sought alliances elsewhere.”

  “That makes sense,” Chad said.

  Sandy continued, “While on the secret mission, de Gray was named Archbishop of York. That was contested but in the end, thanks to payments to the pope of what is several million dollars today, de Gray was confirmed. He received permission to build a large cathedral at York. That began in 1220. The chapter house was added in 1260. Was all this timing coincidental?”

  Chad gave his opinion. “If the Templars moved the locator stone to England in the early 1200s, to York, as you are implying, then the coordinates I saw must have been written about that time.”

  “Is that a problem?” Sandy asked.

  “Wasn’t Jerusalem retaken by the Muslims? Who held Jerusalem in what years?”

  “H-m-m. Let me check.” She clicked on a few screens. “Here we go. The first crusade took Jerusalem in 1099, after four hundred and fifty years of Muslim rule. The Templar came into existence around 1120. They were given the Mosque in Jerusalem that supposedly was built on the site of the Temple of Solomon. That’s good for our theory. The Muslims took Jerusalem back ninety years later in 1187. The sixth crusade recaptured Jerusalem for the Christians in 1229. Timing would be perfect to coincide with the building of York Minster. Except that the Templars did not have much involvement in that crusade.”

  Chad offered an opinion. “It would make sense that they did their looting in the first ninety years they were in Jerusalem. I’m sure they realized the precarious occupation of Jerusalem. It’s likely they moved it out of the city.”

  Sandy picked up the thread of logic. “Assume they made a deal with de Gray in 1215. Walter’s backers for his bishopry are willing to spend a million dollars because they know the secret treasure they will obtain. Walter builds the cathedral in 1220. It’s a good place to hide artifacts. What do you think?”

  Chad agreed. “Sounds like a theory to fit facts. Is there anything to tie the Templars to York? And, how do we jump from Stonehenge to the Chapter House?”

  “Okay,” she said after a few minutes. “Here are four other facts. One - the mills in Yorkshire were given to the Templars. Why? Two - Yorkshire was second largest community of Templars in England next to London. Three - when the papal decree against the Templars was issued in 1312, few of the leaders in England were arrested. Finally, and you’ll love this, when King Henry III went to France in 1242, he named Walter de Gray as the guardian of England. The guardian, Chad.”

  “Why did he go to France? I thought they were fighting?” Chad asked.

  “They were. He went to reclaim the lands they owned there. Remember, the Normans had captured England in 1066. What if the legend of guardians is true? What if Walter de Gray was a guardian long before there was a cathedral? Did he build the Cathedral and Chapter House for the guardians of Stonehenge? Were the Stonehenge coordinates written in Jerusalem as the meeting place to transfer the stone to the guardians?”

  “I like the idea better and better. Could the stone and other artifacts still be hidden in the cathedral?”

  “I doubt it,” Sandy said. “Not according to the story. The guardians were nervous. The people of York were…”

  “Yorkians?” Chad interrupted.

  She ignored him. “The people of York,” she paused purposely, “were suspicious. The guardians would probably move some or all the treasures.”

  “So, then we have Uncle Colin, and his disappearance.” He looked back at the traffic behind him once more.

  “They still there?” she asked.

  “You knew?” he asked.

  “I saw them when I was driving. I saw them pull over as well. I think we are safe. They just want to know where we go.”

  “Do you think your granddad is okay?”

  “He’s being watched over. I arranged it when I picked up your phone.”

  They drove in silence for a while.

  Chad broke the silence. “I think we need to find out where Colin went.”

  Sandy was happy. “Goody. A treasure hunt. We will finally solve the Moffat Secret. A Moffat will solve it.”

  Chapter 92

  The next morning after a night at Sandy’s apartment, Archer rode the Tube for an hour, doubling
back, leaving the underground, and then abruptly turning around and walking back down into the subway. Finally, he took the Piccadilly line to Heathrow, joined the queue for the rental car center, and rented a car with a GPS. He set it for Ipswich, one of Doc’s secret side trips. He didn’t stick to the route suggested. Over the next two hours he took main roads and then side roads. He stopped often. If teaching does not work out, he thought, maybe the spy business would be a good career change.

  He passed through Colchester, stopping at the old pub, the Rovers Tye Farm, established in 1353. That was about the time of the York incident with Colin Moffat. Coincidence?

  The building construction was interesting to the archeologist. Part of it was from the original earthen-wall home. The farmhouse was expanded over the years as construction techniques evolved. In the 1500s, according the story on the menu, the first stone addition was made. It only lasted a couple centuries. Imagine that he thought, only two hundred years. Shoddy workmanship. Now, he was seated in its replacement, erected in 1725. Solid, he thought, almost three centuries old.

  A bangers and mash lunch later, Chad was back on the road. Ipswich unfolded before him. The country town was larger than he expected, a sign revealing it was home to over a hundred thousand people. It had light industry and busy ports. An estuary reached the North Sea. Advertisements hinted that it was an art and cultural center. A jazz festival was scheduled in two weeks along with midsummer’s fairs.

  Taking a cue from Sandy’s comment about the York museum as a source of information, he started with their local museums. He was hoping to find something that would refer back to the fourteenth century, something that would tie to his quest. He wished once again he had all of Doc’s journals. Two hours later he had visited the natural history museum and a transportation museum that included a boat exhibit that depicted examples of all the invaders that used Ipswich over the centuries. After a midafternoon pint in a busy pub, Chad went to the last place on his list – the Castle Museum. He had asked about the museum in the pub and received mixed reviews. Several patrons suggested he skip the museum and stay at the pub.

  The Castle Museum seemed too small to be called a castle, but it claimed to have some of the oldest Roman walls as its foundation and a tower that at one time was four stories high. Chad wandered through the several rooms with interactive exhibits. The squeals of laughter and excitement of two children groups spoke to its success. Personally, he liked museums with displays of old anchors, original wooden beams, and sketches of what life was like. The graphics and video game interactions were a change from his not-so-long-ago childhood.

  “Can I help you?” a neatly attired woman with a museum badge asked.

  “Oh. No thank you. I am fine. Its looks very new and very fun,” he commented.

  “All remodeled in the last few years,” she said proudly. “It doesn’t look like you are having much fun though?”

  “Oh, it’s just not what I expect in a museum,” he said honestly.

  “We hear that occasionally,” she replied. “Its okay. Usually, it’s the adults. Children like the change. Attendance is up.”

  “Are they learning anything or just having fun?” he asked. “I hope that doesn’t sound critical. I’m a teacher.”

  “We think so. We conduct follow-up quizzes with the groups. It seems that they learn a few things. You’re not from here. American?”

  “Yes. Just here for the day. Thought I’d absorb some history.”

  “Do you have a couple hours yet?” she asked.

  “I can, why?”

  “Let me call Mrs. James. We have a castle annex that holds some of our old exhibits. In addition there are many stored and catalogued historical items. Would you like to see that?”

  “Sure, if it’s not an inconvenience.”

  The guide returned with a piece of paper and a smile. “Mrs. James does not work everyday, but she will be there at three if that will work. I wrote the directions down for you.”

  “Thank you, very much. Three is fifteen minutes from now. Is it far?”

  “Five minutes.”

  Chad left feeling good. Even if this was not a day that advanced the project, it had proven to be an interesting day of rest and relaxation.

  He thought he might walk there. He left the parking lot on foot. Remembering, he might need paper and pen, he quickly returned to his car.

  Something caught his eye. A person turning away quickly on the wall of the castle. A woman? She wore a black hoodie and held a cell phone to her ear. Chad changed his mind about walking. He started the rental, looped around the block and waited across the street from the exit.

  A car emerged. He could just make out the figure in a hoodie. She, if it was a she, stopped just outside the parking lot and exchanged words with a second car going in the opposite direction.

  How was he followed? Who knew where he was going? Sandy did. So did Julie. He called her on his newly cleaned phone and let her know he was continuing to follow her father’s lead. This time to Ipswich. He had told Boyer last night as well.

  Last night, he swept Sandy’s apartment for bugs. It was clean, as was his backpack and clothes. He didn’t use his computer last night in case Aman had tampered with that as well. How and who knew his movements? Paranoia had returned.

  Chapter 93

  Archer circled several blocks taking ten minutes to lose any tail. He found the metal double doors at the annex locked. He looked again over his shoulder. Both directions. No lurking autos. Chad stepped back from the low roofed corrugate metal building. An awning covered the two steps leading up to the doors. In front of the door a straw mat as wide as the two doors was decorated in colorful flowers in large script - WELCOME. The steps had a large pot of flowers on each end. Sky blue foot-high letters on the wall next to the doors spelled out the Castle Museum Annex and provided additional color. On this typical overcast English day, the colors were cheery. Under the building name, in smaller red letters, were the hours:

  Open 10 to 4

  By appointment only.

  Next to the door on the left was a cowbell, and below it the words:

  Ring for Service.

  Archer fell in love with the building and its delicate touches. He wished he could meet the mind and heart behind it all.

  Smiling, Chad pulled twice on the cowbell. Clang. Clang. He stepped back off the small porch and waited.

  He heard a lock move inside the door. Slowly it opened. A short, trim, gray haired woman stepped out. Reading glasses were perched low on her nose, looped behind her head with a beaded strap. She smiled warmly. The long white sundress with red polka dots told Chad this was the person behind the décor. If there was any doubt, her bright orange Adidas, were conclusive.

  “Good afternoon,” she said. “Are you the American?”

  “I am. Hi, I’m Chad Archer.”

  “Come through,” she said walking ahead and motioning Chad inside.

  “Thank you for taking the time to meet me, Mrs. James.”

  “Elizabeth, please. And if we become friends, Liz.”

  Chad hoped they would.

  “Where are you from, Chad?”

  “Boston,” he answered. Then added, “Massachusetts.”

  “I may be old, Chad. Seventy-five last March, but I do know where Boston is. But, oh my. Is this some reality show? Is there a film crew outside?”

  “A film crew? Why a film crew?”

  “Are you a long lost unknown grandson of my Tommy?”

  “Tommy?” Chad asked though he felt he didn’t need say anything. Mrs. James would continue her monologue with or without him.

  “My Tommy was from Massachusetts.”

  “Ipswich, Massachusetts?” Chad asked. “It’s only an hour north of Boston.”

  “That would be a coincidence wouldn’t it? But, no. By the way, I do know where Ipswich is as well. He came from Worchester. It’s pronounced Wooster, though it is spelled Worcester,” she stated, pronouncing it war-ches-tuh. “A proper
English name.”

  “Don’t think I know where Worcester is. You say it’s in Massachusetts?” Chad asked innocently, trying to interrupt her chattiness.

  It worked. Elizabeth stopped walking, giving Chad a hard stare. “Really? It’s only fifty miles from Boston.” She remained silent.

  But just for a moment. She smiled again. “You almost had me there, Mr. Archer. Never heard of it. Shame on you. Teasing an old woman. I want your mother’s address.”

  Chad laughed and she joined in.

  “We’ll have to have a tea before you leave, Chad. Will you have time?”

  “I’ll make time. It would be a pleasure.”

  “What would you like to see?” she asked.

  “I was hoping to see a more typical museum. Maybe it’s just my expectations. Artifacts. History in objects, not in video games.”

  “You’ve come to the right place. There. That’s the last of them,” she said as she flipped a large light switch, the fifth in as many rooms.

  “Any particular period?”

  “Twelfth through fourteenth centuries.”

  “Very specific, Chad. You do know I don’t have first hand knowledge of that time period?”

  He laughed. “Where did you meet Mr. James?”

  “I met Tommy in 1962. I was twenty-two, just out of college. Tommy was stationed at the RAF base just outside of Ipswich. We met at a town dance. My, he was dashing. And American. He said I was beautiful and so English. I’m sure we were not the first marriage based on the love of each other’s accents. We married six months later and somehow he was able to stay here until retirement. He soldiered. I taught.”

  “What did you teach?”

  “Science.”

  “A particular area?”

  “General science. Everything from cirrus clouds to geologic formations. I particularly liked geology. The rock strata. The record of time. Why are you smiling? Boring stuff, right? I’ve seen that look.”

  “No. Not at all. My first science teacher was like you. He loved it. He inspired me. I became an archeologist.”