Sheba's Gambit

by Kristine Frost

  “Okay, kid, I promise. But you need to promise to follow the doctor’s orders as much as possible.”

  “I promise. Thanks, Tony.”

  An hour later the train started to slow. “This is our stop,” Tony said. “We’d better wait until everyone leaves so your knee doesn’t get bumped.”

  “I like that idea!” She exclaimed. “I think I’ve had all the pain I want today.”

  Once they were out of the train station, the doctor said, “I can give you a ride to your appointment.”

  Sheba looked a Tony who nodded. “We’re really appreciate that, sir, but our appointment is at Christ Church at Oxford University.”

  “Not a problem. I go past the University on the way to my office. It’s quite a walk, but I’ll get you as close as I can.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they were knocking on Dr. Aaron Aschler door. “Come in,” a very old voice called.

  Tony opened the door. Sheba limp into the room. “Dr. Aschler, I’m Tony Bond and this is Sheba Bentley. We made an appointment for 11:00 today.”

  “Yes, yes, yes.” He watched Sheba limp across the room. “Dear, dear, dear. You’ve hurt yourself. Do, do, do sit down.”

  Once they were seated, Sheba said, “Dr. Aschler, a few weeks ago, I purchased the diary and the log book of a deceased sea captain. Ever since then, someone has been trying to get it from me.”

  “That’s interesting my dear, but I fail to see how it concerns me.”

  “The sea captain, Elmer Seacliff, claims to have found the Kingdom of Sheba in Turkey. From reading the diary and the logbook, I think it was in the volcanic region between the Mediterranean and Mt Ararat. However, he lists some towns that we can’t find on the map so we were wondering if you could help us.”

  “Since,” he finished for her, “I’m known as a nut case who thinks that Sheba wasn’t in the Sudan or Yemen as the popular theories state.”

  Sheba laughed. “Well, if you’re a nut case for thinking that Sheba was in Turkey, then I am one too, because that’s what I’ve come to believe from my research.”

  “Can I see the diary?” He asked.

  “All I brought are the pertinent pages. It’s too dangerous to carry the original around.” Sheba said. She stood up and pulled the security belt from under her blouse. She took the copy, unfolded it and handed it to Dr. Aschler.

  Eagerly, he pulled his glasses from the top of his head, secured them to his nose then scanned it.

  “It’s a little difficult to read.” Sheba said apologetically.

  “No, no, no, the writing is easy to read. Quite copperplate really.” He read further. “Yes, yes, yes, I know the name of these towns. I believe he is using the old names with the old spelling as sort of a code, but I know what he is talking about. He walked carefully over to a box filled to the brim with rolled-up maps. He began pulling the maps out, glancing at them impatiently, then throwing them on the floor. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

  “This is an old map. A very old map. Very, very old. It is hand drawn. I bought it from an old, old, old man who lived in Turkey in the very region the diary talks about.”

  He set the map on the desk. With a shaking hands, he wrote the names from the diary below the names on the map.

  Sheba looked over at Tony. Is he going to give us the map? .

  She turned back to Dr. Aschler. He had changed pens. Now he wrote the current names of the towns under the names from the diary. Then he pushed the map toward Sheba. “Take it, my dear.”

  “But don’t you want to find Sheba yourself?” She asked in wonder.

  “Child, I am 97 years old. I am dying. I have been ridiculed most of my life because I held to the Turkish theory rather than the Sudanese or Yemen theories. My life has been threatened because I would not tell what I knew to a certain man who lives in this country.”

  He looked at her for a few moments. “All, all, all that I ask, is that when you find Sheba, you publish your findings giving me what credit I deserve. I would like to be proven right and have the world know that I was right. Your promise that you will do this for me is enough payment for the map.”

  Sheba looked like she was going to cry. “I give you my word that I will make sure the world knows that your theory was correct. Thank you so much for helping us.” She swallowed. “I wish you could go with us. You know so much more than I do.”

  He reached across the desk to pat her hand. “Child, child, child you will find the way. I can feel it here,” he said putting his fist on his heart. “I am glad you came while I was still alive.”

  He handed her the map and the diary. “I would suggest that you carefully hide the map in that trick belt of yours. Your life might be in danger if anyone knew I gave you the map.”

  “I think you’re right,” Tony said, as he picked up the diary After folding it, he carefully wrapped the map around the diary. “I think it might be a good idea if I wore the belt for our trip back,” he said. “They seem to be focusing on you, rather than on me.”

  Dr. Aschler said, “No, no, no. She takes the map.” He touched his heart again. “I feel here that she should carry it.”

  Reluctantly, he handed the belt to Sheba.

  Suddenly she turned to Dr. Aschler. “Sir, I’m staying at the US embassy in London if you need me for anything, anything at all.”

  “Thank, thank, thank you, my dear,” Dr. Aschler said as he stood up. Leaning on his cane, he shook hands with them. “Take, take, take good care of this little lady,” he said.

  “I’ll do my best,” Tony said as he helped Sheba secure the belt around her waist. She pulled her jacket down over it.

  Dr. Aschler smiled sadly, “I just hope your best is good enough. She has very powerful enemies. Very powerful. More powerful than you know.”

  Chapter 13

  Dr. Aschler had been gazing out the narrow window in his office, thinking about Sheba and the girl who would find it. I wonder if I was right to send her my research. He shook his head. But since I gave her the map, there isn’t any reason not to give her the research. I hope she will give me credit.” He watched a robin putting a small stick on his nest on the ledge outside his window.

  Somehow, I know she will.” He thought with a smile.

  His head jerked around as his office door was pushed open. Michael Slater stepped through the door. “Dr. Aschler?”

  “I am Dr. Aschler. What can I do for you?”

  “A young woman came to see you this morning. I want to know what you told her.”

  Dr. Aschler drew himself up as much as his arthritis would let him. “Since I don’t know you, I don’t see that it is any of your business.”

  Slater pushed the door shut with a slam. “I think you know why it’s my business.”

  Aschler said, “I assume you work for Nathan Breckenridge.”

  “I do, and that makes it my business.”

  “Well, I will tell you just what I told your boss. I’m not interested in sharing my research with anyone, including a girl with no education. I’m not interested in sharing my research with Mr. Breckenridge. I believe I’ve told him that at least eight times, if not nine. I realize that he doesn’t take no for an answer, but I am getting very tired of telling him no.”

  “It would be in your best interests to tell me.”

  “And what would you do to me? Kill me?” He laughed harshly. “At my age, you would be doing me a favor.”

  “If you don’t tell me,” Slater said as he put on his gloves, “You will find that dying will come slowly and painfully.”

  Dr. Aschler laughed. “Living is painful. I doubt if dying would be any more painful.”

  As Slater stepped toward him, Aschler grabbed at his heart, gasped once, then collapsed.

  Slater pulled off his glove, pressing his finger against Aschler’s neck, then he pulled out his cell.

  “He’s dead. He died before I could even touch him.” Slater sounded disappointed.

  “Did he tell you anything?�
��

  “He said he didn’t tell the girl anything. He wasn’t sharing his research with her or you.”

  “Bloody hell,” Breckenridge swore. “Search the place. He probably wouldn’t keep his research in his office, but you might find a clue.”

  “Will do.” Slater pushed the off button. He locked the door. It wouldn’t take long to search the small room.

  --------

  After they stopped at a pharmacy and purchased a brace and a pair of crutches, Tony hailed a taxi.

  When they were in a taxi driving to the train station, Sheba said softly, “Do you really think that he was dying?”

  Tony shrugged. “He said he was 97. That’s pretty old and his skin was a funny shade of grey. I would suspect that he has some sort of terminal illness. He’s been told that he doesn’t have much time.”

  “Well, I’m glad we got to see him. He was very nice.” She paused. “Tony do you think the powerful enemy is Breckenridge or someone else. It really creeped me out when he said that about a very powerful enemy. He said it three times.”

  “I think he had a problem with the three-time thing. He repeated a lot of what he said three times. I’m not sure what kind of a phobia it is, but I know it exists.”

  -------------

  Back in London when they were seated in Tony’s car, Sheba looked at her watch “I didn’t think that train was ever going to get here. I know it goes about 150 miles an hour but it sure didn’t seem like it.”

  Tony said, “I think you should tell Ms. Nagle about your sister’s new boyfriend. I’m sure the powers that be aren’t going to be happy about this.”

  Sheba’s hands closed into fists. “I hope my sister cares more about Braden than she does about Breckenridge. If something happens to Braden, I might just have to hurt her.”

  Tony smiled. “I think it would be better if we didn’t let Breckenridge have him. I don’t want to lose my partner because she decides to mangle her sister. So keep your cool.”

  “No promises.” She looked at Tony. “Are you okay if I go to school with Braden tomorrow? It would give me a chance to rest my leg. It might also give me a chance to think about everything I’ve learned since I’ve been here.”

  Tony pulled up in front of the embassy. “I think it would be a good idea if you take the day off. You’ll feel better if Braden is taken care of.” He looked at her, “If you do figure something out, you’ll tell me, right?”

  “Of course. We’re partners.” Sheba said with a smile, but she couldn’t suppress the feeling that something was wrong. Sadly, Tony was part of it.

  As Sheba maneuvered her crutches toward the big, carved wooden door, one of the Marine guards pulled it open for her. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m not very good on these things yet.”

  He took her arm, helping her up the step. “Hey, Trevor. This lady is on crutches. It might be a good idea if you help her to the elevator.”

  A marine who had been standing next to the door, gently took her arm. “Do you want me to carry you to the elevator, ma’am,” he asked politely.

  When she looked down, she could see her body reflected in the floor, but before she could answer, Braden came running down the stairs.

  “Aunt Sheba, what happened?” He was running so fast that as he stepped from the stairs to the wood floor, his feet went out from under him. Before anyone could do anything, he slid clear across the foyer landing against Trevor’s legs.

  “Braden, are you okay?” Sheba cried out.

  “Sure. That was fun. Since I didn’t try to slide no one can get mad at me.” He let Trevor pull him to his feet. “I’m glad I slid into Trevor instead of you. What did you do to your leg?”

  “I twisted my knee when the train started to move. I have to stay on crutches for a few days.”

  He looked up at her and said solemnly, “Does it hurt a lot?”

  She smiled. “It does hurt, but I’m going to get a shot that will make it feel better.”

  He looked sad. “Then you won’t come to school with me tomorrow.”

  “Braden, I’ll go to school with you tomorrow if I have to crawl. Besides, the doctor said that it would feel a lot better by tomorrow.”

  Braden smiled. “If it doesn’t, then you don’t have to come.”

  Kid, it would take a bullet through my heart to keep me away. She looked up at Trevor. “I would appreciate it if you’d help me get to the elevator. I don’t think I can handle four flights of stairs.”

  Trevor put his arm around her waist, then took the crutches and handed them to Braden. “If you’ll carry these, I’ll carry your aunt, okay?”

  Braden grinned proudly. “Okay.” He said as he took the crutches.

  Trevor carefully carried Sheba to the elevator. After he set her down, he said, “Can you make it the rest of the way. I’m not supposed to leave my post any longer than is necessary.”

  “Thanks, Trevor. I can make it to my room now. I’ve got Braden to help me.”

  Once in the elevator, Braden said, “Don’t worry, Aunt Sheba. They’re supposed to be getting a new rug. That man you were with last night blew up the front door. It ruined the rug so they had to order a new one. It’s supposed to be really fancy. I think Mom said it was orimal.”

  Sheba thought for a minute. “Do you mean oriental?”

  “Yeah, oriemanal.”

  Sheba laughed. “Okay, oriemanal.” When the elevator doors opened, Braden leaned against them so they wouldn’t close on his aunt.

  When they got to her room, he opened the door. She stopped in the doorway, looking surprised. There was a wooden crate in front of her bed. “What’s that?” She asked.

  He touched her arm. “Come in, Aunt Sheba, so I can shut the door.” He sounded so serious that she looked down at him. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

  “Okay,” she said as she began to move forward. When the door was closed, Braden said, “A man in a brown uniform brought that. He said it was important and private. I thought it might be something the squeenchy-eyed man might want, so I had him bring it up here.” He added proudly. “I had to sign for it. The man said I shouldn’t tell anyone but you about it.”

  He brought a Queen Anne chair over to her. “You should probably sit down to look at it.” Gratefully, Sheba fell into the chair. Then Braden wiggled under the bed. When he came out, he handed her a small bar.

  “The man who brought the box, gave this to me. He said it would open the lid if you stuck it under the edges. Here and here.” He pointed to three places that had been marked lightly with a pencil.

  Sheba handed Braden the pry bar. “Would you like to do it?”

  Carefully, Braden inserted the edge of the bar under the first pencil mark and pushed down. There was a screeching sound. Braden jumped back and dropped the bar. He looked at her with big eyes. “What was that?” He asked.

  Sheba said, “That was pretty loud, wasn’t it.”

  “I hope Mom didn’t hear it or she’ll be up here wanting to know what I’m doing.”

  “Well, I think this needs to be our secret because it’s part of a case I’m working on. Okay?”

  He nodded solemnly. “I won’t press so hard this time. Maybe it won’t make that noise if I’m more careful.”

  “I think that noise was the nail pulling out of the wood. I think you’re right. If you don’t push so hard, it shouldn’t be so loud.”

  Gravely, he pushed the bar under the next nail and began working the bar up and down. Finally the nail pulled out of the wood. Then he did the same to the third nail.

  “Good job, buddy,” Sheba whispered.

  The door of the suite opened. Theo called, “Braden, where are you?”

  “I’m here in Aunt Sheba’s room.” He called.

  “Go,” Sheba whispered. “So you don’t get into trouble.”

  Braden handed her the pry bar, then carefully slid through so no one could see into Sheba’s room.

  “What are you doing,” Theo demanded. “You ar
en’t supposed to be in her room unless she’s here.” Her tone of voice was harsh.

  “I know, Mom. She’s back. I was helping her put her stuff away. She--”

  Theo interrupted him. “You’re supposed to be doing your homework. I don’t want you to get any further behind on your work.”

  “Yes, Mom,” he said sullenly. “I stayed in for recess today and got my math caught up. I just need to read my book and do the book report then I’ll be caught up.”

  Sheba opened the door and hobbled through on her crutches.

  “What happened to you?” Theo demanded.

  “I was trying to tell you about it, Mom,” Braden said loudly, “But you wouldn’t listen.”

  Sheba limped over to them. “I twisted my knee when the train started to move.”

  Later that night, Sheba opened the crate. On top of a pile of papers was letter. It read:

  Miss Bentley,

  All of my remaining research is in this box. I have destroyed everything

  that didn’t pertain to Sheba. I believe you will find that mythical

  land. If my research helps you, please give me credit. I have

  spent my entire life on this. I had hoped to be the one to find Sheba. It

  isn’t to be. I will probably be dead by the time you get this box.

  I wish you well, my dear.

  Aaron Aschler

  She thought about the old man as she gently set the letter aside. As she picked up a bunch of stapled papers she noticed that there was writing on the back of the letter. Picking up the letter, she read: Child watch your back. I have made some very dangerous enemies. Now they will be yours. They will stop at nothing to find Sheba or to prove that their theory is correct.

  Sheba looked at the words blankly. Things began to come together in her head. Tony, the train, her injury, the letter. It all began to make sense. She limped over to her purse that was laying on the rich burgundy satin comforter. Pulling out her cell, she hit number one.

  “Ms. Nagle, this is Sheba Bentley.” Without pausing for breath, she said, “I need Marshall here as soon as possible.”

  “Calm down, Sheba. Explain what is going on.”