The Gilded Sanctum

by Keith Veverka

  “You know I will.”

  “Just please promise me something,” she said with pleading eyes. “Please be careful. Please don’t ever take unnecessary risks.” Nicole looked away again and glanced at the swinging medal. “I don’t ever want to be given a medal because you’re not there to receive it.”

  Walker put his arm around his wife and pulled her closer to him. “You know I’m always careful. I’ll always be there for you. I promise.” Walker decided he would not mention the SWAT team decision now. He would save that for another time. It would certainly cause some tension between them, but it would ultimately be a good thing, he reasoned to himself.

  Nicole looked at her husband with a mixture of fear and relief in her eyes. She scanned his face to ensure he was telling her the truth. “I know. I love you.”

  “I love you,” he said, suddenly reaching down and picking up Elise, who in her surprise, dropped the medal. Walker caught it by the lanyard and placed it around her neck, while still carrying her. “And I love you,” he said, as he planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for carrying dad’s medal, sweetheart. It looks great on you.”

  Elise wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and squeezed. “You’re my hero, daddy, and you always will be.”

  Chapter 3

  Walker glanced at the worn medal in the center console. A lifetime ago. He hadn’t touched it in years, just left it in the car’s console as a reminder of what life had once been. It had actually saved his life many times since then, when he felt like using the Glock in his glove box on himself. Looking at the medal always brought him back to the positive memories of the FBI and the happy moments with his family.

  Elise was thirteen now, and he hadn’t spoken to her in four years, but convinced himself it was for the best. He wouldn’t know the first thing to say, and he wondered if she would even recognize him in his current state of deterioration. Although he had shaved this morning and dressed in a freshly-pressed button down and khakis to give his audience a serious first impression, deep down it was all a facade. He wasn’t the same man he was when that medal was presented to him. So much had changed. So much had been lost. It was simply better that his daughter didn’t know him like this.

  Turning off the highway onto a long, winding road, Walker’s vehicle crested a slight hill, and the private school campus came into view. It was just past dawn, so the warm sunrise cast a golden hue on the ornate iron archway, emblazoned with a decorative crest and the words ‘Washington Academy’, which connected two red brick pillars, forming the main entrance. It was a stunning sight, fitting for an institution with this kind of storied and distinguished past.

  Washington Academy was founded in 1805, one of the earliest private academies in Virginia, started by an endowment from the Becker family, originally from the Tidewater region of the state. Tracing its roots to the original settlers to the New World, the Becker family had made its fortune in tobacco and cotton, a family business passed down through generations. The most recent patriarch of the family in the early 1800s was Augustus Becker, a budding entrepreneur and politician from Richmond, constantly looking for new opportunities in either business or politics.

  He found both with the establishment of Washington, D.C. and the growing federal government taking shape there in 1800. Augustus imagined that many politicians and businessmen would soon be relocating to the District of Columbia, with the hopes of sending their children to an esteemed preparatory school. Always the prescient, Augustus was correct, and Washington Academy was born. Named after the new capital city, with its burgeoning supply of sons and daughter from the wealthiest and most powerful families in the nation, Washington Academy quickly became home to the rising young class of America’s elite.

  One of the oldest continually operating private schools in the country, Washington Academy still enjoyed the largest endowments of any private institution in America and remained an independent, non-denominational school since its inception. Catering to the highest social class in the country, Washington quickly garnered a reputation for its superior academic program as well as its penchant for secrecy.

  The yearly tuition, far beyond the reach of most average American families, was paying for both. And the results were impeccable. Nearly all attendees to WA, so long as they followed the rigid guidelines set forth by the Board of Trustees and remained with the program all four years, attended Ivy League schools, and the cycle of wealth and power continued.

  Washington’s current enrollment in grades 9-12 was just over 700 students. The bucolic campus covered over 100 wooded acres, with the student dormitories and academic buildings spread artistically throughout the grounds. The nineteenth-century restored structures combined with the modern facilities gave the campus a traditional yet modern feel, which easily rivaled the nearby college campuses. Expansive athletic fields, a three-story library, and an original Virginia mansion completed the picture of one of the most prestigious, expensive, and successful schools in the country.

  Becker had originally purchased the land on which Washington Academy was located, a hillside hamlet just northwest of Washington, D.C. in Loudoun County, Virginia, for mere pennies on the dollar. The sleepy suburb with its rolling hills, horse farms, and rich agriculture was known as a breadbasket during the American Revolution and home to John Mosby’s partisan raiders during the American Civil War. It remained a quiet and rural stretch of land until the early 1960s when the construction of Dulles Airport in Sterling, Virginia led to rapid development and a population boom, which literally turning Loudoun into a bedroom community overnight. Through it all, Washington Academy had remained a fixture in the county.

  Walker pulled up to the front gate and was greeted by one of the security personnel for the campus, an embroidered crest underscored with the words ‘Campus Security’ located above his pocket and on his sleeve. He smiled at Washington Academy’s similarities to the Arcuri estate, just across the Potomac River.

  “Ryan Walker,” he said as the guard leaned down to the open driver side window.

  The officer glanced down at his clipboard. “Yes, sir. I have you right here. Welcome to Washington Academy.”

  “Thank you,” he said, but wasn’t so sure.

  The guard handed him an orange visitor tag for his rearview mirror. “Here is your visitor tag, Mr. Walker. It’s good until the 28th.” Three days. “Dr. Ellis is awaiting your arrival. His office is in the administration building, just go straight ahead on Main and take your first right on Locust. I will call ahead and let him know you’ve arrived.”

  Walker thanked him again, and the campus security officer slipped back into a small, brick enclosure, which matched the brick façade of the front gate, and placed a call to the administration building. Walker drove under the opulent archway and entered the private school campus.

  The short drive to the administration building was breathtaking. Beautifully sculptured walkways meandered through a sea of trees, winding their way across the decorated grounds of the campus. The leaves on the deciduous trees had just started to change color with the early onset of fall, so soft shades of red, orange, and yellow added an additional glow to the already sparkling sheen of the campus. Students glided along the pathways, carrying their backpacks, talking with friends, ensconced by the beauty of academia. It seemed like the ideal location. How could this place be the scene of a crime? Walker thought.

  He parked his car in a small lot directly in front of an impressive three-story, nineteenth-century building which had been beautifully restored. The red brick mansion was encircled by a white wraparound porch, with a large set of concrete steps leading up to the entrance. A sign in the ground, just to the right of the building, was engraved with the words ‘Augustus Hall – Administration Building’ just above the Washington Academy crest.

  Walker admired the building as he made his way to the front entrance, complete with a huge wooden door and traditional door handles. He glanced at a golden plaque just to the side of the entrance wh
ich read ‘1805’ and thought this was perhaps the first building on the campus. The school had certainly grown a lot since then and was modern in every way, but here on this wraparound porch with the splintered wooden door, he felt like he had stepped back into history.

  Washington Academy, it seemed to Walker, was about as far removed from the fast-paced and crowded streets of D.C. as you could get, and it was as stunning as anything he had ever seen. No wonder it was closed off from the rest of the world. In here, it was its own little utopia, a perfect society unto itself. But Walker had read enough dystopian novels to know that if something appears too good to be true, it usually is. And he was sure Washington Academy, amidst all of its splendor, also had its share of secrets.

  Chapter 4

  Walker glanced at the building directory — a tiny rectangular board with a gray background and white magnetic letters — as he entered Augustus Hall and found the Dean’s Office located on the third floor: Suite 301. There was an elevator to his left, but he decided to take the stairs instead. Upon reaching the third floor and opening the heavy wooden door to Suite 301, he entered a smaller room than he expected, which had been converted into a lobby.

  A Persian rug covered the hardwood floors and historic prints in thick frames decorated the walls. Off to his right was a wooden desk with a pretty, young receptionist, and to his left were four high-backed chairs, which appeared to be authentic pieces from the same time period as the building. He gave the receptionist his name and settled into the closest chair to the only other door in the room, which bore a nameplate engraved with the name and title: Dr. Robert Ellis, Washington Academy Dean.

  Two of the paintings in the room immediately caught Walker’s eye. The first was a large portrait of Augustus Becker, which hung next to the dean’s office door, and the second was a Civil War print of John Singleton Mosby, serious and straight-faced, hanging above the receptionist. He stared at the Mosby painting for a few moments, and the receptionist gave him a stern look, probably thinking he was looking at her. He smiled back.

  Living and working in Virginia, a state rich in history, Walker was a weekend history buff, traveling to battlefields and historical sites as often as he could. He immediately recognized Mosby, who had always been popular in this area of the state. Also known as the Gray Ghost, Mosby was a Confederate cavalry commander who operated his partisan ranger unit out of Northern Virginia. During the war, Mosby’s Rangers, as they had come to be known, conducted highly successful raids against the Union Army, disrupting communication and supply lines with near impunity.

  When the conflict finally ended and the onset of guerilla warfare was a likely scenario, Mosby was one of the last Confederate officers convinced to surrender. Today there were as many as thirty-five monuments and markers in Northern Virginia dedicated to the actions of his rangers. This area of Virginia, in fact, was still known as Mosby’s Confederacy. Even the Loudoun County High School mascot in Leesburg, Virginia was the raider. Walker chuckled to himself as realized these two paintings represented Loudoun County’s prodigal sons.

  The far door suddenly swung open, and Dr. Ellis entered the lobby. The dean of Washington Academy was only about 5’8”, but his presence was looming. By exuding an incredibly calming confidence combined with a rational, learned demeanor, Ellis simply commanded a room. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored three-piece suit, capped off by his full head of white hair, expertly styled, without a strand out of place. There was no mistake; when you were in the presence of Richard Ellis, he was in charge.

  “Mr. Walker.” He said loudly as he stretched out his hand.

  Walker leapt from the low seat and shook the hand while still in a crouching stance. “Dr. Ellis. Glad to meet you.”

  “And a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Ellis said, looking directly into Walker’s eyes as he finally stood upright, although Walker was now three inches taller.

  Ellis turned on his back foot and motioned with his left hand toward his office. “Please, come inside.”

  Walker entered the spacious office, a room much larger than the lobby, adorned with a masterfully restored mahogany desk, tall book shelves, and large bay windows which overlooked the campus. The space took Walker’s breath away for a moment.

  Two brown leather chairs — similar to the ones in the lobby but smaller — sat in front of the desk, the one on the left already taken by a Hispanic gentlemen, who was well over six feet, with his arm and chest muscles bulging through his tight polo shirt. His black hair was slicked back and his goatee was neatly trimmed. He immediately rose from his seat with an outstretched hand.

  Ellis, entering behind Walker, put his arms on the newcomer’s shoulders and said, “This is Joaquin Castillo, Washington Academy’s Security Chief. I’ve asked him to join us because of the circumstances, of course. He’s a former CID agent.”

  Walker was familiar with the United States Army Criminal Investigation Command, usually abbreviated as just CID, which harkened back to the original Criminal Investigation Division that was formed during World War I. USACIDC was headquartered at the Marine Corps Base in Quantico, Virginia, just minutes from the FBI Academy.

  CID special agents, who actually did their training at the Academy, investigated felony crimes and any serious violations of military law within the United States Army. However, jurisdiction over certain national security crimes — such as espionage, treason, or terrorism — resided with U.S. Army Counterintelligence and the FBI, so joint investigations between the two happened frequently.

  Walker shook hands with Castillo, who did not say a word. It was a tight grip and went on for several seconds. The eye contact with his deep brown eyes was penetrating. A head of security with a military investigative background? You can’t do much better than that, Walker thought to himself.

  Dean Ellis moved behind his desk, and all three gentlemen sat in the comfortable chairs simultaneously.

  “I must say, Mr. Walker,” Ellis began, looking directly at him. “Your reputation precedes you. The young man you found, Billy Suffolk, a few years ago. He was actually a former student here. A very good student as I recall. Quite the happy ending. Very admirable.”

  Walker acknowledged the compliment, picturing the medal in his car. “Thank you, sir. It was a long time ago.”

  Ellis nodded. “Indeed.”

  A few moments of silence lingered until Walker broke it. “I want to thank you for allowing me a few days to investigate the disappearance of Mr. Arcuri’s daughter. He very much appreciates your willingness to open your doors for me.”

  Ellis leaned back in the chair, comfortable with his position. “Absolutely. Anything for Lorenzo. His father and I had been friends for many years. I was so sad to hear of his passing.”

  “Of course,” Walker agreed.

  Ellis retained his solemn expression as he pointed to Castillo. “Joaquin and I are as mystified as anyone as to Miss Amanda Bryson’s whereabouts. As you know, we take security very seriously here, and for one of our students to disappear from our own campus, it’s simply unfathomable.”

  Realizing that Amanda used her mother’s maiden name as her last name, Walker wondered how many faculty and students actually even knew who her father was. “I know. Disappearances are very difficult for all involved.”

  Ellis peered at Walker, seeming to try and decide what he could and should say, choosing his words carefully. “We’ve kept this disappearance very quiet thus far, but I’m not sure how much longer that will last. We pride ourselves on our privacy here. It’s one of the reasons parents decide to send their children to us, so no information has been released to the media as of yet. We prefer to keep it that way. We are a very close-knit community, Mr. Walker, so we see no need why the general public needs to be informed of this disappearance. I’m sure you understand.”

  Walker nodded.

  “However,” Ellis continued, “our faculty is very much on edge. We’ve tried to keep them as informed as possible, but unfortunately, we simply don’t
know enough. As for the students, we’ve been trying to keep them calm as well, even fabricated a story about Amanda going home to visit her parents to quell some of the questions, but the rumors are starting to swirl and the tension on campus is definitely palpable.”

  “I see,” Walker stated flatly.

  Ellis turned to Castillo, who hadn’t yet spoken a word. “I’ve had Joaquin prepare a case file for you on Miss Bryson. Everything we have from our own investigation. Perhaps with your keen eye, you can discover something that has eluded us.”

  “Yes, that’s good. Thank you,” Walker said, giving a nod to Castillo, who remained expressionless.

  “It appears you have a multitude of cameras on campus,” Walker said, gesturing out the window behind Ellis. “I will need to have a look at that footage.”

  “Of course,” Ellis announced. “Joaquin will give you a complete tour of our security center and provide you with all of the relevant camera footage of Miss Bryson.” Ellis paused for a moment and then continued, “In fact, we’ve decided to give you complete access to the entire campus — save for our security center which only Mr. Castillo and our technicians have access to — for the duration of your three days with us. Joaquin will provide you with a keycard.”

  Walker was surprised by the generous offer of a keycard that worked for every building on campus, so he nodded his head in immediate agreement.

  “We’ve also arranged for you to stay in one of our residential housing units for these couple days,” Ellis said. “Some of our full-time faculty live in these units, which increases their presence on the campus. Once Joaquin has shown you our security apparatus, I will arrange for a student ambassador to show you to your housing unit. I trust the accommodations will be satisfactory to you.”