He lay down but couldn’t sleep. Turning on the television a BBC news item caught his attention.
“Authorities in Mexico originally claimed the gun battle that erupted near Chihuahua was a power struggle between two drug organizations. Ten men were left dead at the known headquarters of the El Mejor cartel. It has been rumored that two of the dead were top men in that organization. A local station learned that five of the dead bodies were dressed in military uniforms, with no identification, and equipped with sophisticated weaponry and technological devices.
“In view of this information, authorities have admitted it appeared to be an attempt at stealing money from the cartel or possibly a kidnapping. The assailants were not identified, however, sources say they were not from Mexico.
“Several groups are protesting against the American Embassy in Mexico City claiming it was an American DEA and CIA operation on Mexican soil. No government official of Mexico or the USA has commented.”
So much for the renegade Captain Landau of Aman, thought Chad. The thief followed the lead and coordinates on the false locator stone. An eye for an eye. Blood for blood.
Chapter 121
Archer awoke after twelve hours of much needed sleep. He drove to York and checked in at a hotel under an assumed name, a different ID than the car rental and airline flight.
It was June twenty. Tomorrow was the summer solstice. It was the annual meeting at the chapter house for the guardians. He looked up local events and saw that there was a private meeting of the Yorkshire Astronomical Research Society. An interesting cover.
Chad walked to York Minster, went through the cathedral to the chapter house, then through the large oak doors still decorated with the original ironwork. He slowly strode through the octagonal sixty-foot wide building looking at each of the bench seats and the names on them. They were labeled with the deacons and reverends from the area that made up the administrative chapter. There were funny contorted faces and comical gargoyles above each seat. What was the architect or the designer thinking? Was he making fun of something?
The roof was high and supported in some way to make it look unsupported. Tall beautiful stained glass windows provided a solemnity to the quiet. The roof was as high as the room was wide.
Where would I hide, he asked himself? If I were the thief that Moffat chased. If I were to hide tomorrow night? Perhaps above the ceiling? Chad could not see any place that would work. He looked again at the solid doors. No way to eavesdrop through them. But above them? The panels of glass above the doors alternated pale green and clear glass.
Chad walked outside the room into the vestibule. The ornate woodwork could support a man in its corner who could lean over and view the room. Awkward. And no doubt risky, assuming there would be a guard or two posted outside the door. How long could one lean at a stressful angle?
Perhaps he could use a mirror.
He remembered something in Henry’s journal. He titled the last day’s entry as Reflections on Moffat’s Secret. Could it be?
Chad wrote Moffat’s Secret on a pad of paper:
E N 170
He modified the letters and numbers. The E was written as script. Capital N for north became a small n. He added a small o after the n. The zero was changed to an o.
He found a men’s room and held his paper up to the mirror.
Archer learned what Doc had figured out. He learned why Doc had written ‘ha, ha’. He learned what the man chased by Colin Moffat had seen. And, then wrote with his blood. It was all becoming clear.
orion 3
-----
“Julie,” Chad exclaimed. “Finally we hook up. I looked up the results. Congratulations. You won fifty-five to forty-five.”
“Chad, I am so sorry. It has been a whirlwind few days. I heard your messages. I really appreciate your calls. You gave me strength. I was so nervous.”
She spoke for thirty minutes about the celebrations and the contacts already made in Washington. The Party reached out to offer advisors for her Fall campaign, though everyone said she was almost a given with the district’s voting record. She said they really wanted to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.
She asked Chad, “How about you? Your last message said you were getting close.”
“I did better than get close. I found what Doc set out to find. It’s almost over. In fact, tonight I am in York again. Back where we lost Henry. I think I’ll go to the Crossed Arms Pub in honor of him. I’ll toast a job-well-done to his spirit. We did it together.”
“That’s nice of you, Chad. He would appreciate it.”
“He deserves the credit, Julie. It was his notes that helped me.”
“He always said you never took enough credit. He knew better. I know better. You did it. Congratulations, Chad. I have to run. I get to meet the super-PAC donors tonight. Come see me when you are finished?”
“I will, Jules. Take care.”
-----
Late that evening, Chad sat on a bench facing the bar, a table in front of him and empty chairs across from him. It was the seat Henry occupied his last night at the Crossed Arms.
He was on his second double Macallan. A commotion to his right grabbed his attention. It was an argument concerning interference with one of the dart throwers. Even the arguing seemed appropriate. Chad found camaraderie in this pub. He remembered his time here with Sandy. He remembered all of his time with Sandy. He would be done with this tomorrow night. Then he would find her. He had avoided calling her all week, not knowing what he would say. He knew now. He loved her and wanted to make this work, whatever it took.
Chad, watching the argument to his right, didn’t notice a man sliding onto the bench beside him.
“Dr. Archer. How nice to see you. It’s been a while since we heard from you.”
Chad’s head jerked left at the sound of Boyer’s voice. A hard metal object was jammed into his side.
“Sit still, Chad,” Boyer said quietly. Boyer ran an electronic detector over Chad and around their table and seats.
Chad waited for Boyer to ensure he was not recorded or monitored. “Surprised to see you here, Boyer. Thought you had what you wanted.”
“I commend you. Your tablets looked good. It was only with the spectrum analysis, and microscopic review of the cuts that we determined it was not the original. Your tools left some fine particles. I don’t think Moses had stainless steel tools.”
“It is said that God used his finger to carve the commandments. Some people believe it was visitors from another world who used lasers. Why wouldn’t they have stainless steel?”
“We don’t think so. Hand me your backpack.”
Chad hesitated.
“Those two men playing darts are mine. The big guy on the stool near the door. He’s with me. Also, two others outside. Most important the gun has a silencer on it.”
Chad handed Boyer the backpack.
Boyer rummaged through it. He didn’t find the tablets.
“I bet Haskin that you would not let them out of your sight. I guess I lost that bet.”
“They are safe. Why did you kill Begay?”
“He knew too much. He knew me. I couldn’t trust him. I made that mistake with the rabbi.”
Chad didn’t know that. He thought it was Aman. Or Captain Landau.
“Did you also kill Lipman?”
“He was becoming unstable. The rabbi knew all that he knew. We knew all that the rabbi knew. You knew all that the rabbi knew. They were no longer needed.”
Chad remembered the ransacking of the rabbi’s home.
“But the rabbi had something that you didn’t have. You looked for it. Did you find it?”
“I wasn’t there, Archer. And it does not matter what we found or didn’t find.”
“You think he sent it to his brother. Did you kill Radcliff as well?”
“I’m surprised you ask that. The man we sent to Lyons to deal with the brother never returned and the brother disappeared. The same thing happened with t
he archeologist in Mexico. We sent a man. He did not return. Then the archeologist disappeared. We thought you were somehow providing protection for them. Interesting. I will have to give that some thought.”
That was good news, about Radcliff and Juan. Boyer tried to get to them but someone stopped him. Who was that someone?
Chad had one more death to ask about.
“Why did you kill Dr. Clark?”
“He died in a car accident.”
“You are lying,” Chad said angrily.
“You have asked all the questions I intend to answer. None of it is provable. Let’s get back to the tablets. I could ask you where they are and threaten you. We could follow you. We could take you with us. We could make you talk.”
He looked hard at Archer. Chad tried to remain expressionless. He knew though that his face betrayed his anger. Anger at the deaths that he knew Boyer and Haskin ordered. Including Doc’s. It was all he could do to keep from striking the man.
Boyer spoke again. “I expect you have a stubborn streak of integrity. You may die under torture rather than talk. There is no need to test your threshold of pain.”
Chad said nothing.
Boyer continued, “You have proven to be the best puzzle solver I ever met. You are one of the smartest people I have met. I can only imagine where you have safely stored the tablets. I know they are close by. I know you plan to hand them over to the Guardians tomorrow night.”
Boyer paused. Chad still remained silent.
“I also expect that if you disappeared or died, the tablets would turn up somewhere we don’t want them to. So, it will be best that you just give them to us. I know you worry that once we have them, we will kill you. We don’t think we need to do that. You will not talk of any of this to anyone.”
Chad finally spoke, “Why would you trust me to keep quiet?”
“I expect that once you have given me the tablets, that you still have some revealing, embarrassing, and possibly, criminally convincing communication that will be initiated should you die. We don’t want that.”
Boyer read Chad’s eyes and knew it to be true. Then he added, with finality, “Besides, we know where your family lives.”
That fact struck Chad like a punch to the gut. He paled.
“And, is that why you expect me to give you the tablets?”
“No. I want to trade for them.”
“Trade what? The promise not to harm my family?”
“No. I’d like to trade her.” Boyer handed Chad his phone.
Chad stared at a video feed of Sandy tied to a chair, duct tape over her mouth.
Boyer took his phone and placed a piece of paper on the table. Chad read the typed note.
Tomorrow. Five o’clock. Bolling Hall. Come alone.
Chapter 122
Archer stood outside the large sprawling stone building at five o’clock as requested. He read all he could find about it on the Internet. Bolling Hall is a 14th century stone museum in West Yorkshire, about an hour from York. For centuries it served several families and the city of Bradford as a fortress on a hill. Many Bollings and Bowlings descended from the original family. Some stayed in England, some went to the United States and ended up in Kentucky and Ohio. Chad hoped that some of their frontier and new world spirit remained inside to help him.
It closed today at four o’clock. There were no cars. No evidence of Boyer or anyone else.
Chad carried nothing. He approached the 21st century yellow pine double doors at the entrance. They were unlocked.
Inside it was dark except for a light coming from deep in the building to his right. Chad walked through two parlor type rooms and crossed through a short connecting passageway that led to a large dining hall. Sandy was sitting at the end of a long oak table. Her hands appeared tied behind her. Her mouth was taped, as it had been last night in the video.
Chad couldn’t take his eyes from her eyes.
“You disappoint me, Dr. Archer.”
Chad recognized Boyer’s voice. He looked to his right and saw Boyer in the corner next to a large fireplace. He didn’t have a weapon. Chad took in the rest of the room, the large paintings, the green padded chairs, the sideboards, and the large windows looking out the back of Bolling Hall. Floor to ceiling white linen curtains covered the windows, protecting the interior from the UV rays, but allowing enough light to appreciate the furnishings from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
“Where are the tablets?” Boyer asked.
Chad carefully removed his coat and turned it inside out. There were two special inside pockets in the back of the coat each holding a fifteen pound tablet, wrapped in linen and protective small bubble wrap. He removed them and laid them on the table.
“You had them on you last night after all,” Boyer said amused. “I guess I can collect the bet.”
“Step to the end of the table, please,” Boyer instructed. “Next to her.”
Chad hesitated.
“Do as he says,” a voice commanded from behind him.
When Chad turned around he saw the man that entered behind him and now stood at the head of the table. It was George, the ex-MI6 commando, head of security for Haskin. He probably did the killing or directed the killing for Boyer and Haskin. He held a semi-automatic assault rifle.
“I want to make sure you don’t try anything heroic at this point, Chad,” Boyer told him. Boyer moved to the table and examined the tablets without touching them. He couldn’t hide his delight.
“Dr. Archer. You don’t know this, but by finding these, you have just done a service for mankind. You have changed our future forever.”
Chad removed the tape from Sandy’s mouth.
“Thanks for coming,” she said with a smile.
“Anytime,” he smiled back.
“You know they will kill us,” she said, as she stood so he could untie her hands.
“I don’t think so. Boyer knows what could happen.”
Boyer was listening.
“I don’t know, Archer. I might take my chances.”
George smiled.
Boyer placed the tablets into a protective bag made especially for them.
“Did you read the history of Bolling Hall?” he asked.
“I did,” Chad said.
“You know there is a ghost that is occasionally seen here. We may just add two more to keep her company.”
A voice came from behind one of the linen curtains “Let’s just call this a standoff.”
Boyer and George looked up in surprise. For a moment Chad thought they believed it was the ghost.
An arm extended holding a short automatic assault rifle. A woman stepped out. She was average height. Average looks. Average features. Average colored hair. She was unnoticeably average.
“You are?” Boyer asked.
George spoke first. “Lupa.”
“I think you have what you want,” she said. “Time for you to leave.”
Archer was elated. I knew it wasn’t Sandy, he said to himself.
Boyer was quick to realize that he was in the middle between the two weapons.
“We have our agreement, Archer.” He left. George backed out. Lupa followed them.
Chapter 123
Archer turned to Sandy and took her in his arms.
“How are you feeling? Hurt anywhere?” Chad asked.
“No. I’m okay.”
They stepped back. A silence hung between them.
“Let’s sit,” Sandy suggested.
They both started to talk at the same time. “Sandy, why…” “Chad, I need to tell you…”
“Go ahead,” they both said. Then smiled.
“Chad, you have a lot of questions for me I’m sure. You want explanations, I know. Can we save them for later?”
“Okay. No, not okay. Well, just this, Sandy. Let me say this. I don’t know what you do. I think I know who you are. It doesn’t matter. Not the way I feel about you. It doesn’t matter.”
She waited. Chad waited. She b
roke the silence.
“Chad, usually when one says that, you know, says, the way I feel about you, usually that person then says how they feel.”
Chad started to speak. Sandy waved him off.
“Sorry, Chad. I shouldn’t put you on the spot like that. I’ll tell you this much now. I’m one of the Guard that Aman asked you about.”
Chad was stunned. Sandy let it sink in. The she added.
“We are guards of the Guardians. Their eyes, ears, and enforcers. We are the guards of the people, the objects, and secrets that they guard. Initially, I was to learn what you knew in York. Then, what you learned in Jerusalem and Lyon. You were so good at solving clues, I was asked to lead you to Moffat’s Secret. When I found you at that house near Cambridge, my intention was to rescue you and drug the woman. I did not know if there was anyone else there. I was prepared for that as well. She had a gun. I shot you with the tranquilizer to take you out of harm’s way. She was the first person I ever killed.”
Chad asked, “How are you doing with that?”
“Okay. But, I think about it. I need some help to process it.”
Chad leaned over, took her hands and stood her up. He gave her a hug. She held on tightly. They separated, focused on each other’s eyes.
He looked around. “Eaten here before?”
She smiled. “No, I haven’t. I doubt they have much fresh food here. Could find some aged cheese, perhaps.”
“H-m-m.” Then with his best attempt at an English accent, he asked, “Would you fancy some chips, perhaps?”
“That’s terrible. Who are you trying to be?”
“Bond. James Bond. Rescuer of damsels in distress. Destroyer of global conspiracies.”
“Ugh. Let’s go. You buy the chips and I will treat you to a spectacular sunset.”
“Deal.”
They settled into a comfortable silence on the drive to York.
Moffat's Secret Page 43