“I don’t, actually. My husband was always better at keeping track of those details.” Barbara managed a smile.
“That’s okay, we’ll look it up. My name is Tasha and if your husband had an account here I’ll be able to find it for you.” She squinted at the screen, scrolling through what must have been a long list of names. “I don’t see it. Could it be under another name?”
A wave of despair washed over her. Griffin slid his arm around her waist and she leaned into him for support.
She wondered if David had used the name on the passport she had found in his other safety deposit box, but she couldn’t remember that name at the moment. Neither would she be able to prove that she was married to someone with that name, and therefore entitled to access their safety deposit box.
“Oh, here it is. Sorry about that. Box number 157. Here, I’ll take you to it.”
Tasha guided them to the small room and inserted her key into the lock chamber. Barbara held her breath and inserted her key as well. Tasha removed the small metal box and handed it to her.
When Barbara was alone with Griffin, she didn't hesitate to lift the lid. This time she hoped the diamonds were inside. Instead she found a piece of white notepaper, one that had been crinkled and folded, as if it had traveled miles upon miles in the safety of David’s pocket or wallet.
Written in blue ink and in David’s block lettering were the words:
Next to the two monumental stars that were built to stay free.
Beneath the first window, down two, over three.
“This has to be where he’s hidden the diamonds. Two monumental stars. What is that?” she asked.
Griffin took the paper. “I think this is the clue he would have given you if he had had time. Writing the clue out like this—he was trying to find a way to give you the information you needed to find the diamonds, without making it obvious to someone else who might see it.”
“Well it’s not obvious to me. Two big stars? What location has two big stars?”
“Two big stars is accurate, but monumental has two meanings. Look at this.” He took a pen from the coffee cup on the table and started writing on one of the bank notepads. “Built to stay free is an old anagram. Meaning, the letters from this phrase can be logically rearranged into another sensical phrase.”
He pushed the paper toward her. At the bottom of the page he had written: The Statue of Liberty.
She compared the phrase David had written with the one that Griffin had written. “You’re right. All the letters are the same. David used to work at the Statue of Liberty when he was a park ranger.”
Griffin scrolled through a web site on his phone. “Looks like that's where he hid them. See here.” He pointed to an aerial photo of the Statue of Liberty. Look at the base of the statue, it’s an eleven pointed star.”
“A hendecagram,” she said plainly.
“That’s right—”
“David had a hendecagram taped to the side of the refrigerator.” Her voice trailed off. “But what’s the other star?”
“The halo she wears. A lot of people think the spikes coming out of her crown represent the seven continents. But they’re the rays from the sun, which is also—”
“A star,” she said. “David put a graphic of the sun on the ceiling above the fan. He told me the sun was also a star. A dying star.”
“That’s right.” He looked at her, his expression resolute. Brave. He pressed his lips to hers, his kiss soft and yielding. “We’re going to find the diamonds. And we’re going to get your father back.”
Strength and hope mixed in her heart and fueled her determination.
They left the bank, the sidewalk and cross streets crowded with morning traffic. Halfway to the parking garage, she stopped and looked around.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“I have that feeling, like someone’s watching me.”
Griffin searched the area with a long look. He slipped his arm around her and they picked up their pace. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
16
“They called.” Kris’ voice was thick from crying.
Barbara's chest clenched tight with panic. “What happened?”
“The negotiator answered the phone, he was super calm. The guy on the other end just had this normal voice, no accent, but very impatient. The negotiator told him that before we handed over the diamonds, we needed proof that Pop was alive. So they posted a video of him with a timestamp. Detective Boone says we can’t trust it, that one of us needs to talk with him in a two way video call. He’s trying to set that up so that they have some time to track down his location. He looks like he’s in bad shape.”
“Why? What did you see?”
“He seemed disoriented. Kept asking where he was and who they were, what they wanted. They said we have forty-four more hours to return the diamonds, and if they don’t have them by then, they said they’re going to kill him. Then they would move on to the next family member and the next, until they got what was theirs.”
Barb's fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white.
“I’ve got the plane tickets,” Griffin whispered and held up his phone.
Barbara turned onto the highway and sped toward the airport. “Were they able to trace the call?”
“Yes, and Detective Boone just sent a bunch of police to an apartment complex off Old Concord Road. He said we shouldn’t get too excited, though, because it could have been a burner phone. Or they could have been sitting in a car while they used that phone. Maybe they even tossed it afterward.”
“I just came from that area.”
“What?” Kris asked.
“Nothing. I have another lead on the diamonds. I’m on my way to New York to follow through on it. Keep me posted on Pop.”
* * *
After they landed at LaGuardia, they caught a cab to Battery Park, where they boarded a boat to Liberty Island. The boat rocked and chugged toward the Statue of Liberty while the cool wind whipped over the water and chilled her bare arms. She leaned into Griffin and he held her close.
She hadn’t been to Liberty Island since she was in elementary school and she couldn’t remember much of anything she had seen back then. She had no idea where David would have found a place to safely hide something as valuable as diamonds.
They could do this, she assured herself. If the diamonds were still there, they would find them. They had to. Because Barbara hadn’t been able to stop her mother’s death, or her father’s heart attacks or David’s murder. But she knew if she could find the diamonds, she had a real chance at saving her father’s life.
She opened David’s note and reread the message for the hundredth time in the last few hours. Next to the two monumental stars that were built to stay free. Beneath the first window, down two, over three. She watched the Statue of Liberty grow taller as the boat neared its port.
“What does that mean—beneath the first window, down two, over three?” she asked.
Griffin shrugged. “I’m not sure. I haven’t been here in years.”
They wandered up to the first floor of the statue and looked around.
Barbara studied the note and searched the area. “We have to find a window. The hiding spot is beneath the first window.”
“The base of the statue—the hendecagram—is an old fort, so there aren’t going to be any windows there. Let me see the paper again.”
“Next to the two monumental stars,” she said and pointed to the first line David had written. “Next to them.”
They went outside and Griffin squinted into the distance, and then made a fist. “I think I know.” He took her hand and they walked away from the statue, trying hard to look like any other tourist.
Barbara took stock of her surroundings, searching the crowd to make sure they weren’t being followed, that they weren’t being watched. But there were too many people. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Just over here.” He nodded
to a small, one-story house that was located across the island and behind a row of trees. A white maintenance truck was parked beside the house and a man pushed a lawnmower over the grassy lot.
“Windows,” she said. There were several on at least two sides of the house that she could see.
When they got close to the house they walked all the way around it, avoiding the man with the lawnmower and ducking below the windows just in case someone was inside.
“Which window is the first one?” she said aloud, referring to David’s wording. She turned back to the statue and decided on the one closest to Lady Liberty. “This one.”
Griffin turned toward the statue, then again toward the house. “Good idea.”
“Down two and over three,” she said. “He had to have been talking about the bricks.” From the lowest part of the window she counted down two rows and over three bricks. She scraped at the mortar and bits of it began to chip away. “Try this one.”
They both searched the area to make sure no one was watching.
“Wait here,” Griffin said. He ducked low and crept to the maintenance truck. He returned with a small toolbox, and dug in it until he pulled out a small, serrated blade with an orange handle.
He jabbed the blade into the edges of the mortar until a strip of the sealant popped out. The brick wiggled loose and he handed it to her.
She reached into the hollow chamber and removed a black velvet bag, her knuckles scraping on the sides of the brick. Inside the bag were dozens and dozens of stones, white, sparkling, priceless. She held a few in her palm, ran her finger over them.
“Diamonds,” she whispered to Griffin and handed him the bag. “He really stole them.”
“They probably came from Africa,” he said. “Blood diamonds out of Africa are big business. They usually go through India and then around the world.”
“Ajay must have been importing them through David’s business.” She poured the diamonds back into the bag, wondered if David knew about the diamonds ahead of time or if he stumbled upon them by mistake.
The curtain moved in the window and Barbara gasped. A dark-haired man in a park ranger uniform rapped on the glass. “What are you two doing here?”
Griffin took Barbara by the hand and backed away from the house. He smiled gently, waved. “We were with a tour and—sorry. We got separated.”
“This is a private house. You can’t be here.”
The park ranger spoke into the walkie-talkie that was attached to his uniform at the shoulder. He eyed the toolbox on the ground. “This is Eugene, I’ve got two young people next to my house, I need two officers down here to take them in for trespassing.”
“Sorry!” Barbara waved and flashed her friendliest smile. “Run,” she whispered to Griffin.
They ran until they reached the crowd, Griffin guided them into the thickest flow of people. Barbara’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she was breathless. If she were stopped and searched, they would find the diamonds.
“Through here,” Griffin said. He guided them to a freestanding vendor. He threw two twenty dollar bills on the narrow counter for two NYC baseball caps and two pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses. “Put these on. Tuck your hair into the cap if you can.”
They slowed their pace through the crowd, glasses on, caps pulled low. When they reached the ferry, Barbara found an isolated corner and called Detective Boone. Without mentioning the diamonds specifically, she told him that she had what Ajay was looking for. “They can have these, just as soon as I get my father back,” she said. “Do you have his location?”
“We think he’s on the West side of town. I’ve got police canvasing that area now. But, Barbara, we haven’t gotten the live video call with your father yet. We need to have the proof that he’s alive before we offer them the diamonds. We have to maintain that leverage.”
She meditated on her father's name. Frank…Frank. Nothing. She had never checked to see if someone was alive or dead before. She didn't know if she was too stressed to get anything or— “Just tell them, so they won’t hurt him.”
“I can’t,” he said. “We have to do this my way.”
17
Barbara and Griffin ran from the boat landing toward the cab stand at top speed.
“Cab!” Griffin yelled and raised his hand in the air.
“Hurry,” Barbara whispered under her breath. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.” She would have to find a way to reach Ajay herself.
“Barbara?”
She and Griffin turned. A man in a dark suit and reflective sunglasses approached them. He reached into his pocket, retrieved his wallet and showed them his photo I.D. A silver badge shone on one side and written details on the other: Charlotte Police, Detective Greg Kendall. He was tall, muscular, with brown skin.
“Detective Boone sent me. He said you might need an escort back to Charlotte.”
She backed up several steps and focused on his name as he leaned closer to them: Greg…Greg… Nothing. She recognized him. The driver’s license picture that Detective Boone had sent her. Even with his glasses, the angle of his jaw gave him away. It was Ajay.
He stood too close for a stranger, and his smile was too deliberate to be genuine. “Assuming you were able to find what you needed.” His voice was even, but a forced kind of low, trying to appear authoritative.
Griffin seemed to sense that something was wrong as well and he stepped closer to her.
“Unfortunately, we didn’t find them,” she said. “Thank you for your offer. But right now I just need to get back home.” She felt Griffin’s hand pressing at the center of her back, urging her forward. She tried to step around Ajay but he blocked her.
“We really have to get home, officer. The situation is urgent and we have to be there to help,” Griffin said. He guided Barbara to step around the man.
Again he blocked their path and this time he pointed a gun at them. “If you don’t have them, then you won’t mind if I check your bag.”
Barbara swallowed around the tightness in her throat and didn’t move.
“Hand me your purse,” he said.
Reluctantly, she took her purse from her shoulder. “You’re Ajay,” she said. “The man my husband stole from.”
He did a quick double take, as if he hadn’t expected to be recognized. “He shouldn’t have taken what wasn’t his. Give me your bag.”
She shook her head. “First I need to know where my father is, then you’ll get your diamonds.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a key that hung on a curled orange cord. “He’s in a storage facility, waiting for you to return what’s mine. You hand them over and I’ll tell you where he is.”
She pulled the black velvet bag from her purse and stared at the gun. ”How did you find us?”
“I’ve been shadowing you all day—from the moment you left your father's house to your trip to the bank. I stood right behind you at the airport. When you discussed LaGuardia while you printed your tickets, I knew exactly where to go. Even managed to get on the same flight.” He snatched the bag from her and Griffin lunged.
Ajay jabbed the gun in his direction, and Griffin stopped.
He opened the bag and a slow smile spread across his face. “Good work.”
“What about my father?” she asked.
“I’ll be in touch.” He backed away, keeping the gun focused on them until he got into his car and sped away.
Barbara fished her phone from her purse and called Detective Boone. “We just ran into Ajay. He found us up here and he took the diamonds. He said my dad is in a storage facility unit. He showed me a key on one of those orange stretchy curled bands that you can put on your wrist.” She thought of the westside location in Charlotte where the kidnapper’s phone call had come from. “What storage facilities on the westside have orange as a part of their logo?”
“I’ll look it up,” he said.
After a moment, Griffin pointed to a search listing on his phone screen. “This one.”
/> “Try the Queen’s City Storage Units on Old Concord,” she said.
“That’s the same area where the call came from,” Detective Boone said. “We’re on our way.”
The call disconnected and she looked at Griffin. “I hope we’re not too late.”
* * *
She called Kris several times until their plane took off. During the two hour flight Kris texted Barbara about every step she took with the police. It took an hour to get the warrant from a judge, then they sped to Queen’s City Storage Units, an outdoor facility with over five hundred storage spaces.
The owner checked his records for customers with names that matched Ajay’s or one of his companies. The police went from unit to unit with chain cutters, snapping off locks and raising doors one by one.
Kris’ texts dribbled in.
“Checked three units, no sign of him yet,” Kris wrote. “Opened five more, nothing,” another one of her texts said.
For the next hour, Kris’ texts detailed how they cracked lock after lock with no sign of her dad.
When their plane finally landed in Charlotte and phone service was restored, she called Kris.
“They found him, Barb. They found him,” Kris said when she answered the phone. “He was locked in a remote unit in the back. Tied to a chair, beaten pretty badly. I think he's going to be okay. No one else was around. Either they left when they heard us coming or whoever put him there was just going to let him die a slow death in that Godforsaken place. They’re getting into the ambulance right now. Hang on just a minute.”
“Barb? Are you there?” Her father’s voice was weak and scratchy.
“I’m here, Pop. Are you alright?” She wanted to crawl through the phone to get to him, help him however she could.
“Oh, sweetheart,” her father said.
“It’s me,” Kris said.“ They’re taking him to Carolinas Medical Center.”
Chasing Secrets Page 11