The Dane Commission (The Dane Chronicles)

by Dane, Max

  Ryan got up to leave, and looking around, picked up his tablet. If they found Frances, it had all of his files on it, and technically he could give his presentation if he needed to. He walked out to Lara’s desk with Jeff behind him.

  “Lara, please make arrangements for Jeff and I to fly to Bellingham, Washington tomorrow, and Newport, Rhode Island the day after. Also, we’ll need transportation in each city. Please make all the arrangements tentative, and send me the details.”

  “Sure, Ryan. No problem, I’ll send you the details shortly.”

  Jim said, “Ryan, why are you and Jeff flying to Washington and Rhode Island?”

  “Jim, please just trust me, I can’t say any more right now.”

  He headed to the garage with Jeff following behind.

  Lara looked at Jim and said, “Was that mysterious, or was it just me?”

  “Yeah, that was weird all right.”

  He almost ran back to his office.

  Sitting down at his terminal, he pulled up the IntelliHealth video archives. Looking through the dates and times, he found the video of the Saturday meeting. He sat back and drank his coffee as it started to play.

  Once they were in Ryan’s car, and exiting out of the IntelliHealth parking lot, Jeff said, “Okay, Ryan where are we going?”

  Ryan reached for his tablet, and sync’d it with the car. Now the GPS in his tablet could lead them to the local address for Frances.

  “Cohen wants me to talk with Dr. Frances in person.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty cool. But why am I here, and what’s with all the mystery?”

  “Cohen thinks the SID program, was impersonating Dr. Sid Frances at the Saturday meeting, and then afterwards at a private meeting between the two of them.”

  “What? SID was impersonating Sid?”

  “Yes, SID the program, was impersonating Sid Frances the man.”

  “Oh my god, really? Is he sure?”

  “No, he’s not sure. That’s why we’re going to talk with Dr. Frances.”

  They drove for a few minutes in silence while Jeff absorbed what Ryan just told him.

  “Okay, but why am I here?”

  “Jeff, I brought you because you are my friend, this is a very weird thing to do and basically, I need a sidekick with me.”

  Jeff paused briefly.

  “I’m not the sidekick. I know the man better than you do. In fact, he was the reason I came to IntelliHealth in the first place.”

  There was a pause. He looked at Ryan and saw that he was smiling.

  “Okay, I am the sidekick. So where exactly are we going right now?”

  Ryan laughed.

  “I have a list of three home addresses for Dr. Frances. The first is local, and we’re headed there right now. If he’s there, I need to find out if he actually attended the meeting on Saturday.”

  “And if he did?”

  “Well, I don’t know exactly; I’ll play by ear. If he’s not there, then we go home and leave tomorrow for Bellingham, Washington.”

  “What am I supposed to tell my wife, Kali?” said Jeff. “Hello dear, I’m off to Washington to see if a robot has eaten Dr. Frances?” Ryan chuckled, thinking he was lucky Jean was at her parents, or he would be facing the same conversation.

  Ryan handed the tablet to Jeff and said, “Here take this and help guide me there. Dr. Frances’ address is already set.”

  ”Okay,” he said watching the display, “turn right at the next light.”

  When they arrived at Dr. Frances’ home, they found a gate closed across the driveway. It was a low gate, with lots of pretty curves, looking mostly like decoration. They parked outside. Ryan turned the car off, and they got out.

  Jeff found an intercom on the gate. Glancing at Ryan, who shrugged, he pushed the button. No sound emerged, it was completely dead.

  Ryan pushed on the gate.

  It was locked.

  He leaned over and looked at the back of it. He saw that it was rusted through in places, and seemed to be in pieces from exposure. It had the appearance of being unused for years.

  Looking up the driveway, they could see weeds and overgrowth. There were lights leading to the house, but none of them were on. A Mercedes covered in dust sat in the driveway. Ryan noticed an ant bed formed around the base of the front tire.

  The two men looked at each other.

  “Jeff, that car hasn’t moved in a long time.”

  Jeff nodded.

  Ryan said, “Jump in there and go ring his doorbell.”

  “That is not what the sidekick does, my friend. I will wait and guard the car.”

  Looking at the gate again, Ryan wondered why he was doing this.

  “Keep your cell phone handy. This is creepy, and I may need back-up.”

  “Yes, of course, I have it here Ryan,” he said, “But who should I call for back-up?”

  With a big sigh, Ryan climbed over the gate and dropped to the ground inside.

  “Hey Ryan, at least there are no big dogs in there.”

  “Thanks Jeff, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  He walked around a corner and followed the stone walkway to the front door. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was a good-sized home. He counted thirty-five steps on the path to the front door. Next to the door was a fountain in front of a big picture window. It wasn’t running, and the window behind was dirty. He gathered himself, and nervously he knocked on the door.

  Silence.

  He pushed the doorbell, but still there was no sound from the house.

  “Dr. Frances are you there? I need to speak with you!”

  He waited, but there was no response.

  Anxiously, he walked around to the back yard, to find the same state of disuse. There was a tennis court with weeds growing through the cracks; a pool, with mold and debris resting on the bottom.

  He found a backdoor and knocked, but no one answered.

  He called out again, “Dr. Frances, please are you there? I need to speak with you.”

  His ear pressed against the door, he listened but heard nothing.

  ’No sounds of life here,’ he thought.

  Only the wind blowing around the decaying yard.

  He walked back around to the front and found another car had pulled up to the driveway. An older couple were out of their car and talking with Jeff. Ryan spotted a release for the gate as he walked up. Pleased he didn’t have to jump over again, he opened the gate, and walked up to the conversation.

  “Ah, Ryan I’m glad you’re here. These are the Bentworths, and they live next door, up the hill there.”

  “Yes, I’m Larry and this is my wife Nancy. We were hoping you would have a lawn man do some maintenance around here.”

  “Yes, it certainly seems to need it, doesn’t it?” said Ryan.

  “Yes it does, the mosquitoes are heavy this year, and we all need to keep the grass mowed to help.”

  “We are looking for the man who lives here, Dr. Frances. Do you know him?”

  “We did, but he sent us a message some time ago saying that he had moved on,” the gentleman said. His wife added, “That was about six or seven years ago.”

  “Do you remember if he left a forwarding address?” said Ryan.

  “Yes, it was someplace in Washington state… Bellingham maybe.”

  “Well, thank you so much. I’ll see about getting the lawn mowed.”

  “Thank you, goodbye,” they said as they got back in their car. They were obviously pleased to have met someone attached to the property.

  Ryan stepped close to Jeff.

  “No one’s here. The back is as dead as the front. The whole place looks like it was deserted years ago. No one is maintaining it, and I don’t think it has power.”

  He looked up the hill, watching the Bentworths as turned into their driveway in the distance.

  “They mentioned the Bellingham address; that’s the next one on Rosemary’s list.”

  “Why would he just walk away from this?” Jeff asked.


  ”I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “So I guess we’re going to Bellingham.”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t think I like being on your commission Ryan.”

  “Neither do I.”

  They got back in the car, and headed back to IntelliHealth. When they got there, Ryan let Jeff out at the curb.

  “Jeff, lets meet at the airport in the morning. I’ll forward the travel details from Lara. Thanks for coming with me.”

  “Quite an adventure, yes?”

  “Yes, it certainly is.”

  “Very good, Ryan. I will see you in the morning.”

  Ryan drove home.

  It was still in the afternoon, so he sent a few messages from his tablet.

  He sent Cohen and Rosemary a message saying that the local address for Frances was deserted. He and Jeff were moving on to the Washington address in the morning.

  He sent a message to Jim asking him to respond if he found anything in the video footage. He also forwarded the travel details from Lara to Jeff.

  Lastly, he sent a message to Jean saying that he had to go to Bellingham, Washington on business to retrieve some information for Dr. Cohen. He would be in contact soon, and hoped that they were having fun in Florida.

  He went to bed wondering what he would find in Washington. He had visions of finding a desiccated old man propped up at a table.

  ‘This wasn’t exactly what I signed up for,’ he thought.

  The next morning found Ryan and Jeff on a plane, flying to Washington.

  Ryan loved to fly, but Jeff seemed squeamish. He made a mental note to find a better sidekick when all this was over. They landed and found the car Lara had arranged already waiting for them. Ryan sync’d his tablet to the rental car, and followed the GPS directions to the address in Bellingham.

  Dr. Frances’ home was large and positioned on an overhang such that it looked out over the woods behind. The driveway had no gate this time, and they were able to drive all the way to the front door. The drive split and circled in front of the house.

  They parked the car, and walked up to the front door.

  Overall, the whole house looked to be in good repair. And outside, the yard and shrubs were maintained.

  Ryan pushed the doorbell, and from within the house, he could hear its ring.

  There was no answer.

  Ryan called through the door, “Dr. Sid Frances? It’s an emergency may we speak with you?”

  Jeff knocked but the house returned only silence.

  Together they walked around the house and looked in the back yard.

  Like the front, the back yard was mowed, and the property maintained, but there were no signs of life. There were no lawn chairs, no umbrellas or tables with glasses.

  Sterile.

  It reminded Ryan of a house for sale.

  Breaking the silence, in a low voice Jeff said, “On our way in, I noticed some kind of community clubhouse. Maybe we can ask there to see if anyone knows something about this house.”

  “Jeff, that’s a great idea. I may just keep you after all.”

  “What?”

  They walked back around the house to the car and Ryan drove back to the front of the community. Sure enough they found an information center sitting next to some sort of activity facility.

  They walked inside and asked about the Sid Frances property. After a minute or two, a clerk at the front retrieved a gentleman who introduced himself as the Property Manager for the community. To Ryan, he seemed far too eager to speak with them.

  Something had perturbed the man.

  “Yes, I know the property.” The man adjusted his pants as he stormed around the front desk.

  Talking fast, he said, “It’s a real headache for us. The owner is some fancy doctor who won’t return my calls, or mail. Are you here to respond to my complaints? Are you a lawyer?”

  Ryan held his hands up.

  “Hold on, we’re trying to help. We work for Dr. Frances, and we’re afraid something may have happened to him. We’re trying to find him. When was the last time you heard from him?”

  The man slowed a little, but was still tense, ready to fight.

  “He stopped maintaining the place about five years ago, and we’ve had to do it for him ever since. We add the maintenance fees to his homeowners’ dues, but it would be best for him to make arrangements himself. Can you remind him that he has a property here? He has responsibilities to the community.”

  Ryan was still trying to calm the man down. He took the man’s hand and shook it rapidly. “I’m Ryan Dane, and this is Jeff Sarin.”

  “Tom Spencer, Rolling Waters, Property Manager.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Tom. We’re from his place of work, and we’ve been trying to locate him ourselves. Maybe we can help each other. Is there any chance you could let us look around to see if there’s any clue where he might be?”

  Taking a deep breath, Mr. Spencer said, “Normally I would say no, but since we haven’t heard from him in so long. Let's go in together, but no one may take anything. We are just looking for information, agreed?”

  “Yes, thanks Tom. And in return we’ll help you get some support on this property when we return to work.”

  Together, the three of them rode in Mr. Spencer’s car. They drove up to the house, got out of the car and walked to the front door. After calling for Dr. Frances, Tom waited a moment and then opened the front door. Ryan and Jeff followed him inside.

  The house was empty.

  There were no furnishings, no tables, chairs or even papers on the floor. The windows were covered with curtains and blinds, but that was it. Dust had settled everywhere. They walked together covering the whole property, only to find empty rooms in an empty house. It didn’t look like Dr. Frances had ever moved in.

  “Tom, are you sure that Dr. Frances actually lived here?”

  “Well, I remember helping him make the arrangements, and then he signed the lease.”

  “When was that, and how did he look?”

  Tom pulled his phone out and searched for the lease information. “Well, it was a little over 5 years ago, but I never actually saw him. We handled everything over the phone and by mail.”

  Tom put his phone away and looked around.

  “This is so odd.”

  Returning to the car, they drove back to the Community Center.

  Ryan and Jeff thanked Mr. Spencer for his help, and promised to mention the problem here with the people at home. Ryan drove them back to the airport hotel.

  They had dinner at the hotel.

  They didn’t talk much.

  Both men were anticipating trouble in Rhode Island.

  Ryan thought he must feel something like a man who wanders across railroad tracks, suddenly bathed in the light of the oncoming engine. The crash was coming, inevitable, but he couldn’t look away or change his course. The answers were waiting for them in Newport. He hoped they wouldn’t run him down.

  That night at the hotel, Ryan sent Cohen an update.

  ‘Eric -

  We found his house, and a local (community manager) let us inside.

  Empty; it was completely empty.

  No furniture, no one living there. It appears that Dr. Frances never moved in.

  Evidence suggests it has been vacant for more than five years.

  We’re moving on to Rhode Island tomorrow.

  I’m beginning to fear the worst.

  - Ryan’

  He hit the send button.

  Looking though the rest of his mail, he found a message from Jim.

  ‘Ryan, you're not going to believe what I found.

  It’s the video of Sid Frances.

  You were right. There was something to see.

  It didn’t make sense until I turned the sound down.

  You can see several loops that simulate the mouth

  moving. I sent you the most obvious one. Also, if

  you compare segments of the au
dio track, you

  find that individual words are repeated from

  a single version.

  It’s a fake Ryan.

  But there’s more- so is Steve Ranks.

  They aren’t even very good fakes. I don’t

  think anyone has noticed because no one was looking.

  I attached a video clip to show you.

  I can guess where you are, be careful.

  I’ll see you when you get back.

  - Jim’

  Ryan was stunned; Steve Ranks was a fake too?

  He forwarded Jim’s message to Cohen.

  This was going from bad to worse.

  The next day they arrived in Rode Island.

  They found the car Lara had arranged, and sped off towards their last address in Newport.

  Ryan was nervous.

  He had convinced himself that Sid Frances was dead, and this would be where they found his body. The desiccated old man at the table he’d imagined. He was tempted to call the police. It would be the smart move, the safe move.

  ‘Except,’ he thought, ‘it would take too much time.’

  The police were slow, it would take time for them to understand his story, time for them to verify it, and then time for them to get the necessary approvals to act.

  After all he’d seen he needed to know, now.

  Where was the man who had cured cancer?

  Where was the man who had founded the greatest health and research institute the world had ever known? And most importantly, how long had he really been gone?