by Dane, Max
Ryan thought about all of the meetings, conferences, dinners and ceremonies Dr. Frances had attended over the last five years.
All by televid, and all fake.
For that matter, the same applied for Steven Ranks. The two figureheads of IntelliHealth, guiding the largest organization in the world, and even interacting with governments around the world, all this time.
What had they done?
Ryan and Jeff had to drive for over an hour to get from the airport to the address in Newport. They didn’t talk much in the car, and they didn’t stop. Jeff looked as nervous as he was.
When they finally arrived, the sun was up and they could see blue water rolling behind a row of houses. They got out of the car and stared at the house from the curb.
Dr. Frances’ home sat up high on a rocky, sandy shore, overlooking the water. The grass in the front lawn was green and cared for; it was a good sign.
Ryan relaxed a little.
Across the water, there were sailboats all leaning to one side as they tacked against the wind. Gulls cried in the distance, and somewhere a dog barked. The scene was beautiful; maybe they would find Dr. Frances here after all.
Ryan steeled himself, shrugged and walked up to the front door.
Hesitantly, he reached up and pushed the doorbell.
They could hear it ringing inside.
After a minute or two, with no response, he knocked as well.
Still hearing no response he called through the door, “Dr. Frances, if you are there please answer.”
They waited.
Only silence from within, giving nothing to indicate movement inside.
His heart sinking, Ryan motioned to Jeff and they walked around the house to the back. Ryan led with his less than devoted sidekick in tow.
He knew Jeff didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to find the body they would surely find inside. Ryan was sweating. He touched the phone in his pocket lightly, just to make sure he had it.
In back of the house they found a lush, green yard that ended with a small drop to the water. There was a boat-dock with a sailboat tied-up inside.
Walking around the house, they arrived at the back door.
Ryan tried the handle, but the door was locked. Cupping his hands around his eyes, he could see through a window in the door. There was only a small bolt locking the door.
He looked quickly at Jeff.
They both seemed to be thinking the same thing. They had come too far to stop.
Jeff nodded.
With barely any effort, he shouldered the door open.
They stood on the porch step, and he called inside.
“Hello, Dr. Frances are you there? Hello?”
There was only silence inside, and the sound of the surf blanketing them outside.
From far out in the bay, he thought he heard someone laughing.
He stepped inside.
It was the kitchen; it smelled musty.
All the signs of life were there; utensils on the counter, a stack of plates visible across the floor on the far counter. There were glasses stacked up, and a magazine on the table. He stepped over to the magazine, and looked closely without touching it. He read the name Frances on the address label, and noticed the date at the top.
It was five and a half years old.
A thick layer of sandy dust covered everything, as it does in beach houses. As they walked, they left clean footprints in the grit on the floor. He walked through the dining area and found the living room.
Chairs, a couch and a large televid. Frances must have been living here at one time.
“Dr. Frances, are you here? Hello?” he called again.
Nothing.
Still the gritty dust covered everything. Jeff swiped his finger down the front of the large televid leaving a clean trail behind.
Ryan walked into the adjacent bedroom, bracing for the body he still expected. The bed was unmade, and clothes lay around the room on chairs, and the dresser. In the adjoining bath, there was a leather bag with a brush and a toothbrush next to it. Towels were on the floor, and some hair in the sink.
Dust covering everything.
These things had not been moved in some time.
Turning back to the dresser, he spied a leather satchel with papers inside. Carefully, he picked up a pen, noticing the clean place it left on the top of the dresser. Slowly, he used the pen to hold open the satchel and read the papers inside. He saw a header, which read, ‘Dear Dr. Frances’.
These were his things.
He had been here.
Ryan set the pen down, and walked carefully back to the hallway.
Moving away from the living room, he found a second bedroom. Just as in the first, clothes and belongings lay about the room.
There had been two people here.
Finding a folder with papers on the dresser, he carefully opened it. He saw the name written on the top, ‘Steve Ranks.’
They had both been here.
This was where it happened.
‘The event that took them both,’ he thought.
Suddenly, Jeff screamed from across the house.
Ryan quickly stepped backwards, and ran to the kitchen.
Jeff had opened the refrigerator. It was rank with molds covering the interior. The foods kept here had gone bad quite some time ago.
Jeff shut the door, “Sorry Ryan.”
They stepped outside. It felt good to be back in the sun again.
He looked across the yard at the boat dock.
‘Well,’ he thought, ‘we’ve come this far; may as well see it all.’
Ryan walked to the boat.
“Ryan, why do you want to see the boat? We know he’s not here.”
“We have to see everything before I make my report to Cohen.”
The boat was pointed into the dock. He could see the name written across the side of the bow, ‘The Long Victory’. Ryan thought the sailboat looked to be about twenty-seven feet long and very modern, with lots of fiberglass fins and bright steel trim.
He knew his way around sailboats, and when they entered the dock, stepped deftly onto the deck. Jeff waited, standing just inside the dock, in the shade of the wooden beams stretching overhead.
Ryan stood on the foredeck and noticed the mainsail and jib were hanging loose as if someone had brought them down, but didn’t bother to reel them in, or tie them up.
Loose cords littered the deck. The mast itself had a large noticeable dent about halfway up. He stepped carefully around the edge to the stern, and down into the sitting area. Only one side even had a cushion. It was half hanging in the air, all tangled in the ropes running to the boom. It swung slowly back and forth, as the boat tilted with the water below.
He walked around the steering wheel so he could see into the cabin, below deck.
It was in total disarray.
The beds, mattresses, cushions, furniture and a lot of clothes and belongings were thrown upside down and everywhere.
This boat was a mess, and not at all what you would expect to see from someone like Dr. Frances. ‘What happened here?’ he wondered.
He climbed back out, and walked with Jeff back to the car.
“Jeff, they were both here, Sid Frances and Steven Ranks. The house looks fine, but the boat is in terrible shape. I think whatever happened to them, happened on that boat.”
They got in the car and started the drive back to the airport.
That night Ryan arrived home around one o’clock in the morning, local time.
He was tired, but glad to be home. Having trouble falling asleep, he went to his computer and sent Cohen another report.
‘Eric, I’m home, and look forward to seeing you in the morning.
This has indeed been an adventure. Jeff and I made our way to the final home of Dr. Sid Frances, only to find him still missing.
However, it was there that we found his belongings. It seemed as if it was his last place to have been. Evidence suggests that Ranks was
there too. The house was in good order, but there was a large boat outside, the ‘Long Victory’, that was not. I look forward to fleshing out this report when I see you again.’
He read the message once before sending it. It occurred to him that they only had one suspect left to talk to. Ready now for what was to come, he signed his message.
‘I think I have an idea of what to do.’
- Ryan.’
After sending it onward, he went to bed feeling a little like a cat.
He was getting ready to pounce.
CHAPTER 15
“People who claim that they're evil are usually no worse than the rest of us... It's people who claim that they're good, or any way better than the rest of us, that you have to be wary of.”
― Gregory Maguire, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Ryan arrived at work almost two hours late.
He had overslept after getting in so late last night.
Going to his office, he found Jim and Jeff talking with Lara.
They were all waiting for him.
As he approached the group, they all started to speak at the same time. He stopped in his tracks, held up one finger and through squinting eyes, said only one word.
“Coffee.”
Like magic they vanished en masse on a quest for coffee.
It bought him time to get to his desk and set his things down.
He fell into his chair still worn out and not quite adjusted to the time yet. He could hear his team talking in the open area out front as they made their way back to his office. Lara set a cup down on his desk. Jim handed him a plate with a bagel on it.
“Good morning Ryan, how are you?” said Lara.
“Hey Ryan, so what did you find?” said Jim.
“Ryan we really need to talk,” said Jeff.
Looking at them, in that moment, he was reminded of the Wizard of Oz. Jim needed a brain, Jeff needed courage, and Lara… well, he imagined Lara would look great in sparkly red shoes. He laughed a little, took a sip from his coffee, and said, “Lara you’re first. What’s up?”
“Dr. Cohen wants to see you as soon as possible.”
“Ok, please confirm that I am here, please say that I apologize for being late, and that I will be there shortly.”
With a mouthful of bagel, he said, “Jim you’re next.”
“Did you get my message about the video feeds for Frances and Ranks?”
“Yes, I did; excellent work Jim. I suspected the Frances video was a fake, but it honestly never occurred to me that the Ranks video could be too.”
“Well, what did you find?” asked Jim.
“Jim, I’m going to take you with me to see Cohen. I’ll explain then.”
“Jeff, you’re up.”
“I just wanted to know if you want me to go with you to talk with Cohen?”
“Yes, you are coming as well.”
He finished his bagel, and drank a little more of his coffee.
“Before we go, I need to know something,” said Ryan, “Jim, if you were given a new video clip of Frances, how long would it take you to analyze it they way you did before?”
“Well not long, why?”
“Could you be prepared to capture it, analyze it and say if it was fake, all in the space of 1 or 2 minutes?”
“Well, yes I think so. I would need to set up for it, but once I was prepared, I could write the algorithms to process the video and look for the telltale signs of forgery very quickly. I would only need about 20 seconds of actual speech, but he would need to talk during those 20 seconds.”
“Thanks Jim, I knew you could do it.”
“Now, let's go see Cohen.”
They arrived at Dr. Cohen’s office, and waited at the door. Ryan saw Cohen talking to several men, and women. Rosemary was there too. She noticed Ryan getting off the elevator, and came to them. In a hushed voice she said, “Ryan, wait here for a minute or two.”
She looked at a list she had displayed on her tablet.
“Dr. Cohen is wrapping up with this group, and will be with you shortly. Have a seat in the conference room, and Ryan, do not talk about anything while you are in the conference room. Do you understand?”
“Not really, but I understand. We won’t talk in the conference room.”
They sat in silence, and a few minutes later Cohen appeared at their door, without speaking, he waved at them to follow him. Single file they wound their way back to his office.
Rosemary closed the door.
“Sorry about that, every conference room has a SID interface. I am not going to take any more chances,” said Cohen.
“Ah, now I understand. How are you, Eric?” said Ryan.
“Very good, but we have little time for pleasantries. Please summarize what you’ve learned.”
Ryan looked at Jim and Jeff, turned back to Eric and began his story.
He explained what he and Jeff had found at the three homes belonging to Dr. Frances.
“The local house was abandoned roughly five years ago. It is in a terrible state of disrepair, apparently without power or any kind of upkeep.” Ryan described the older couple who lived up the hill and very much wanted someone to maintain the yards of Dr. France’s home.
”The property in Bellingham is completely vacant, empty of any furniture or belongings. It has been routinely maintained by the local community office, also for about five years.” He also told them about Tom, the local Property Manager who helped them to see inside the Bellingham property.
“Then we arrived at the Newport house. I forced our way into the home through the back door. Inside we found the clothes and belongings of both Dr. Sid Frances and Steven Ranks. Their clothes and things were lying about as if they were vacationing. Dates on them, and a magazine in the kitchen indicated they were five years and several months old. The sandy dust around the room suggested their belongings hadn’t been moved since the event.”
“The event?” asked Jim.
“Yes, we don’t know any details, but we can guess that something happened to Frances and Ranks about five and a half years ago. And I think it happened on Dr. Frances’ boat.” He cleared his throat, and turned to face Cohen again.
“Eric, the boat looked as if it had been rolled in the deep water.”
Eric nodded, “Well Ryan, after seeing your message this morning, I contacted the local officials in Newport, and learned that the coast guard found the boat with no one aboard five years, and seven months ago. It was identified as belonging to Dr. Sid Frances.”
“They contacted him, and apparently he responded via an electronic message. Sid apologized for the mess, and said it must have slipped out of his boat dock, and drifted out. He agreed to pay any associated fees, and requested that they would return it to his slip, at his home address in Newport.”
Dr. Cohen leaned back in his chair, and took a deep breath.
“Considering the presence of Steven Ranks’ belongings at the Newport home, and the falsified videos Mr. Safe has identified, I believe we might infer that Ranks and Frances were lost together, probably on that boat.”
”And that SID has been impersonating them ever since,” said Ryan.
The words hung in the room, followed by a sudden silence.
The conclusion was logical and understood, but no less horrid and dark. As if possessing its own gravity, they could not pull their thoughts away from it for several moments.
It was Cohen that spoke first. In a low voice he continued, “I’ve made arrangements to pull in the authorities, but I haven’t pulled the trigger yet. Ryan, you said you had an idea of what we should do next. You’ve been at the heart of this mystery from the beginning; I want to hear your idea.”
“It’s obvious I think.”
“I think it’s time to confront SID,” said Rosemary.
“Yes.”
“But how Ryan?” Rosemary stood and moved a hot coffee pot to the center of the conference table.
Ryan said, “Let
's have a small conference. It will be fake, filled with whatever police, and IntelliHealth officials you believe are appropriate. Of course, you must invite Dr. Frances, and as usual we’ll use the televid to accommodate him. Once the meeting begins, you must get him to talk for 20-30 seconds.”
He turned and winked at Jim. “Jim will capture that 20-30 seconds of video and tell us within a minute or two, if it is fake.”
“I can certainly keep the meeting going for that long; no problem there,” said Cohen.
“Okay, but we all believe it will be fake, so what’s next?” said Jim.
Jeff, in a low voice burning with hate said, “We confront the bastard; in front of God, and all the people in that room.”
“Who’s going to do it?” said Jeff.
Ryan looked around the room. It would clearly have to be either Eric, or himself.
“I’ll do it,” said Ryan, “I’ve been chasing him since I began.”
“Agreed,” Cohen said relieved, “Well, it seems that I have arrangements to make. I think everyone should return to work. Do not speak of this, and do not talk near any place that has a SID interface.”
They all stood.
Eric added, “Be thoughtful; be careful. I will contact you soon.”
