by Zulu, Arthur
Maryland was beckoning.
Chapter 5
President Bill Godsend was shocked when he received the security briefing. He quickly called the Attorney General.
“The abductors of the Nobel laureate must be apprehended post-haste!”
“We will get them, Mr. President.”
The president hanged up his phone after Mr. Paul Lawman, the Attorney General, gave him the assurance.
He needn’t have made the call. His department was already coordinating all the agencies under it to break the Washington conundrum. All the security heads were heading the search for the kidnappers and the abducted professor. So began the largest manhunt in American history.
The Attorney General was in his office monitoring the search. His phone kept ringing crazily and his fax machine kept spewing out hourly briefs. He was being updated and he, in turn, briefed the president.
He received an urgent message:
“We are interviewing the star witness, Professor Cramwell of Harvard.”
That was a first step, he thought. He did a quick check of the professor in the database and found no criminal record. He was waiting for the outcome of the interrogation.
“Did you say you were sitting with two North Korean women earlier?” the Police Commissioner in charge of investigations asked Cramwell.
“Yes, two beautiful ladies: Huizhong and Quaohui. They can win beauty competition any day.”
“Good. Did they come over to you or did you walk over to them?”
“No, they came to me and requested to keep me company,” he answered.
The Police Chief took special note of that.
“And what were you discussing before Professor Muse came?”
“We talked about life in North Korea and …”
“No, take it one after the other,” interrupted the Police Commissioner.
“Okay. I told them how bad the North Korean regime was.”
“Did they like that?”
“I don’t know. They just wondered how I knew so much about their country.”
“Have you ever been to North Korea?”
“Never.”
“Do they have reason to believe you are a spy?”
“No, I told them I am a professor and that I knew about their country from books.”
The Police Chief paused and sent his next brief:
“He met two North Korean ladies and discussed the dictatorship of Pyongyang. Note: the ladies came to him.”
Interesting stuff, Attorney General Lawman was thinking. The ladies had intent. What could that be? Cramwell was not working for the White House.
“Would you know them if you saw them?” the Police Chief resumed his interrogation of Professor Cramwell.
“Yes, even if I were blindfolded,” he answered.
“That’s good, Prof.,” said the Police Commissioner. “What else did you discuss?”
“The Bible.”
“The Bible?” asked the Police Chief, curious.
“I told them I can recite all the sixty-six inspired books of the Bible from memory including the Apocryphal ones.”
“Which are the Apocryphal books?” asked the Police Commissioner.
Professor Cramwell laughed. “Which Bible translation do you use?” he asked in reply.
“The Catholic Challoner-Douay Version.”
“The Douay–Rheims Bible you mean. So you are Catholic, perhaps. Then you are reading the wrong books. All the non-canonical, or added, Bible books are in that Bible and in a few other translations. They were written by storytellers—all anonymous, except one, the author of the Wisdom of Jesus. Let me give you the full list of what your church calls the deutero-canonical, or later, books. They are Tobit or Tobias, Judith, six incorrect addenda to Esther, Wisdom (of Solomon), and the longest of them all called Ecclesiasticus or The Wisdom of Jesus. Others are the book of Baruch which includes the Epistle of Jeremias or Jeremiah, The Song of the Three Holy Children, Susanna and the Elders, The Destruction of Bel and the Dragon, and First and Second Maccabees. There are also other uninspired books like the Prayer of Manasses and First and Second Esdras deemed non-canonical by the Council of Trent.”
“That’s impressive and educative. What about The Gospel of Jesus’ Wife?”
Cramwell laughed very much.
“Don’t pay attention to everything you hear. Jesus never married. Forget the rumor mongers. There is no such book. What I have given you is the full apocryphal list. Of course they will tell you more—even The Gospel of Judas. And the pope will give you a longer list. He is custodian to dozens of classified apocryphal titles in the papal archive.”
“Never knew so much before,” said the Police Chief. Now, about the crime scene . . .”
“Sorry, before that I must mention that there are also the Gospel of Thomas and the Acts of Peter that belong to the Apocryphal New Testament, a parody of the Gospels that portrays Jesus in negative light. Never read those. Now the sixty-six inspired Bible books you are to read are Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers . . .”
“Yes, I know those,” replied the Police Chief, not wanting to listen to another discourse.
“But I could have named them all for you just to be on the safe side.”
“Not, not to worry. I will cross out those story books in my Bible; that takes care of that. Let’s get done with this interview first.”
“It’s okay, if you say so,” replied Professor Cramwell grudgingly, not happy that he didn’t have the chance to display his scholarship by mentioning all the sixty-six inspired Bible books.
“Now, tell me, who brought up the Bible topic?”
“I did,” replied Professor Cramwell. “And then I told them the name of the Bible in Harvardspeak.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a language that we use in Harvard to hoodwink people.”
“Why would you want to deceive the ladies?”
“No, they asked me what we call the Bible in Harvardspeak.”
“They did?” he asked, curiously.
“Yes.”
The Police Commissioner noted it.
“And what is it that you call the Bible in Harvardspeak?” asked the Police Chief, with pen poised to write.
“Inquisition Nemesis,” replied the professor.
The Police Commissioner hesitated. The other police officers laughed.
“You mean the Catholic Inquisition?”
“Yes, Chief. The Bible was the nemesis of the heretics,” replied Cramwell.
The Police Commissioner wrote his brief for the hour:
“They discussed the Bible, which the professor told them is called Inquisition Nemesis in Harvardspeak. He will recognize the women even if blindfolded. Note: the women asked the professor the Bible’s name in Harvardspeak.”
Now, this was strange, thought the Attorney General. Do they read Bible in North Korea? No, North Korea and Bible do not fit in a sentence.
“So what did you discuss, professor, when the Nobel laureate walked in?”
“His first statement was that he was kidnapped by the White House.”
“The White House kidnapped him?” the Police Chief asked in shock.
“He said that by way of explaining his lateness. We were supposed to meet by 9 P.M. but he came about an hour late.”
“I see. Were the ladies aware of your meeting?”
“Not at all.”
“All right. Go on.”
“Professor Muse told me he had a Hebrew prosody.”
“Hebrew prosody?”
“Yes, it’s our Harvardspeak for Hebrew poem.”
“You both seem to like to talk in Harvardspeak. Did the women take interest in the language?” the Police Commissioner asked.
“Yes. They asked what Hebrew prosody meant, and he told them.”
“So they were interested?”
“Yes. They even wanted to know more.”
“Did you both teach the women more?”
“We didn’t. We were there dri
nking and talking before they took us down to see the arrested people. And then I got pushed into the gatehouse with others while they whisked my friend away.”
The Police Chief was thinking.
“Did the women come to the restaurant with other people?”
“I do not know. They never told us.”
“Was anyone sitting and listening to your discussion?”
“It was crowded. There were people sitting and drinking all around us while others were dancing below.”
“Where did they take your friend?”
“I cannot tell. We were locked inside the gatehouse when two American police officers took him away. And they knew our names.”
“True?”
“The very truth.”
The Police Commissioner updated the Attorney General:
“Professor Muse had a Hebrew prosody, which is what they call Hebrew poem in Harvard. The ladies asked and were told what Hebrew prosody meant. Cramwell didn’t know where his friend was taken. Note: The ladies were interested in Harvardspeak. And the two people in American police uniform, who spearheaded the operation, knew the names of both professors.”
Mr. Lawman was looking at it with the probing eyes of an attorney-at-law, putting the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle together. He seemed to be nearer to the solution.
The ladies were interested in the Hebrew poem that Professor Muse was working on. However, what does Harvardspeak – the language of both professors – have to do with it?
“Sorry Prof., you are still in a state of denial,” said the Police Chief. “We just needed these few facts for our preliminary investigation. We will let you rest up a bit while we conduct a thorough search of the restaurant and its premises. We will need to ask you more questions later, sir.” With that, Professor Cramwell was taken to sit and wait in the police van with other workers of the restaurant.
The police officers beamed their powerful search light and began to comb the entire deserted restaurant for evidence. The Police Commissioner sent a report to the Attorney General:
“We are now searching for evidence.”
Mr. Lawman nodded to himself. He had fully briefed the president.
Americans woke up in the morning to read the scary news of the Hollywood-style nabbing of the Nobel laureate. All the newspaper stands across the country were crowded.
The newspapers didn’t disappoint. They were agog with screaming headlines–each trying to outdo the rest: Pyongyang Slaps Washington. Daredevils Kidnap Professor Muse. Terrorists’ New Game plan. Al- Qaeda on the Rampage. The Greatest Manhunt in U.S. History. Photo-Finish Operation in Washington.
The newspapers gave lucid accounts of the kidnap by suspected North Koreans and two American police officers, the police interrogation of Professor Cramwell, and the full-scale chase of the culprits.
One newspaper, the Los Angeles Times, even asked a humorous question by entitling its story, “Who Wants to be a Billionaire?” This was because the United States government was offering the sum of one billion dollars to anyone with useful information leading to the capture of the kidnappers. Americans knew from this price money that the missing professor was special to the White House
Of all the newspaper headlines, however, it was USA Today that waxed poetic with the title, “Who Plucked American Beauty Rose?” It was troubling, it said, that after New York, the seat of the Empire, was infamously shaken by Afghan terrorists, Washington, the most secure capital city in the world, could be threatened by a pariah like North Korea.
The newspaper wondered whether Pyongyang was getting its pound of flesh from Washington for its intransigence over North Korea’s nuclear ambition or whether the Nobel laureate was badly needed to crack a nuclear code. Of course that was meant to be a joke. For Professor Muse only knew how to decipher cryptic lines.
All the newspapers reported on the Harvardspeak: Hebrew prosody and Inquisition Nemesis. There were even conspiracy theories in the reports that the professor was done-in by Harvardspeak.
The Chinese Consul General in New York heaved a sigh of relief after reading all the newspapers. He sipped his tea. He had been watching the journey of the Chinese agents from Washington by GPS on his cellular phone.
He had just taken time off to read the newspapers and was happy that his country, China, was not fingered in the kidnap. The North Korean gamble was working, he surmised. They would discover the two other countries later.
Well, his operatives were traveling safely. Of course, they had diplomatic immunity to their advantage. No security official worth their salt dare searches a diplomatic vehicle, not to talk of opening a diplomatic crate.
Nevertheless, the Consul General had something to worry about – the price money leading to the arrest of the culprits. That Los Angeles Times article was clearly inviting Americans to join the billionaire club simply by telling the police the whereabouts of their beloved Nobel laureate. The professor’s photographs were all over the pages of the newspapers. Who did not want to be a billionaire? And Californians for that matter!
No, he said, anything can happen. He was nervous. He began to question the wisdom of the Washington-Maryland-Delaware-New Jersey-New York choice over the Washington-Maryland-Pennsylvania-New York option. Which route was longer and which was shorter?
There was no time to debate that now. He took his tea again and resumed the GPS tracking of the secret agents’ progress to New York.
What the police investigation team led by the Police Commissioner found at the crime scene at Citizens Restaurant was shocking. This was a carefully choreographed operation by professionals. Professor Cramwell’s testimony was only an aperture to a labyrinth.
The Police Chief updated the Attorney General with haste:
“Twenty passports of nationals of Iran, North Korea, and Cuba discovered at Citizens – ten males, ten females. There is no photo evidence because the CCTV was disabled. Cramwell and the other witnesses have been moved to FBI headquarters for further interrogation.”
The Attorney General was stupefied after quickly reading it. They had a tough case in their hands to unravel. This was an unholy coalition of America’s natural enemies. What was their interest in the hidden language of Harvard scholars?
As he was reflecting on this, his fax machine spewed out another brief from elsewhere. He took the paper and went through it:
“Three empty diplomatic vehicles belonging to Iran, North Korea, and Cuba found in the outskirts of Maryland.”
He did not know what to think about this. Did the twenty citizens use the three diplomatic vehicles for the kidnap or were they all diplomats? Now, this was becoming a lacuna.
Whatever the case, the criminals had changed vehicles. They must be tracked. He called to give instructions to his officers in the field. After that, he updated the president.
The president read the briefs from the Attorney General. He was as perplexed as his chief law officer.
Cheung and his men and women had been driving steadily in their four Chinese diplomatic vehicles with tinted window glasses toward New York. He was frequently updating Beijing, and the president was expectant and impressed. Of course, Cheung was aware that their journey was monitored through GPS by the Consul General in New York. He, too, was full of high hopes.
The crate had been regularly checked. Professor Muse was still fast asleep. The doctor was doing his best to keep him safe till they board the airplane.
What amused Cheung and his agents so much was the finger pointing to North Korea, Iran, and Cuba. No American would doubt that. They were teaching Americans how to play the game.
However, this Washington-Maryland-Delaware-New Jersey-New York trip seemed long. They had refilled at a gas station in Delaware and hoped that they would not run out of gas again till they get to New York.
It was funny that they were sought after, yet dozens of police vehicles kept driving past them while other motor vehicles were randomly stopped and searched. At the gas station in Delaware, they even exchanged
greetings with a police crime patrol team, who had stopped over to refill as well.
Immunity was good and it was sweet to be a diplomat.
They were now in New Jersey racing toward New York in a straight line. Accidentally, on entering New York, the left front tire of the leading vehicle suddenly went flat. The driver, wanting to avoid a bad situation, stopped the speeding vehicle abruptly.
But he worsened it. None of them expected anything of the sort. So the second vehicle hit the first, the third smashed the second and the fourth collided with the third. The multiple accidents brought the journey to a stop!
The CG saw this on his GPS mobile phone. He was out of sorts. Quickly, he led five other Chinese diplomatic vehicles and sped to their rescue.
Meanwhile, a vehicle loaded with FBI detectives was approaching the accident scene in the opposite direction . . .
The Attorney General sat in his office perusing and analyzing what seemed a mountain of briefs. They never stopped coming. The chief law officer had been working late into the nights—kept awake by coffee.
His phone rang. He took the call. After that, he resumed lifting through the papers.
Another call. He answered it. Putting down the receiver, he took a file, and cross checked some documents.
All the security networks in America were placed on red alert. A brief came in from the FBI:
“Professor Cramwell spoke on phone with Professor Muse, who wanted him to solve a problem. He asked to know where to find the oracular of Hebrew prosody. He told him oracular was in omega and quoted Mother Muse. Cramwell won’t tell us the meaning of the Harvardspeak. They arranged the date, time, and venue of the dinner also on phone.”
Mr. Lawman shook his head after reading the update. He had been waiting for this FBI interview hoping that it would lead to the breaking of new grounds in this investigation but there seemed to be little to celebrate.
Now, why was Muse calling his friend and asking for help in Harvardspeak? Why were the kidnappers interested in it? That as the heart of the matter!
The only helpful hint he got from the FBI brief was that the professor’s telephone discussion was bugged by the kidnappers. They likely listened to their discussion and knew their place of rendezvous. These must be a bunch of experts.