by Jeff Noonan
Lee drove aimlessly around the area for several hours, lost in thought. Whenever he saw a home for sale, he stopped and jotted down notes about it. He planned to return over the weekend and look at homes in the area.
CHAPTER TWELVE - HOUSE HUNTING
fter his morning run the next day, Lee dressed and headed for the Media area to look for a home. On the way he found a diner and enjoyed the first big breakfast he’d had since Maggie left. When he finished, he stopped and bought a local newspaper and a county road map.
The evening before, he had narrowed the search area significantly. He’d decided that he really liked the area around Media. These were open residential areas with a lot of wooded, rolling hills. Looking at the map, he realized that there were three townships in the area he liked. The furthest north was Swarthmore, the home of Swarthmore College. Just south of that was Wallingford, where he had seen that nice high school yesterday. Then south of that was Rose Valley, a bedroom community with many older mansions and several upscale, but small, developments. These were his target areas for today.
The morning passed rapidly. He independently looked over four or five homes that were for sale but didn’t see any he liked. At one point, he called a realtor and had her show him a home that looked reasonable. But, once inside, it proved to be less than he had expected. The rooms were small, dark, and somehow depressing. He thanked the realtor for her time and continued his search.
By 1 p.m., he was famished and getting discouraged, so he drove to Media and found a pub with sandwiches. The pub, Packy’s Grill, turned out to be a real find, with a cheery atmosphere and good food. He ate and was about to leave when he noticed two men in a booth toward the back of the room. One of them was the big man he’d seen yesterday. Today he was wearing a dark suit complete with a necktie, but again Lee had the feeling that he knew this man from somewhere. He looked at him for a moment, debating whether to go ask the man if they had met. But the man caught his look and glanced away with no hint of recognition. Lee decided his imagination must be getting the better of him. He paid the bartender for his lunch and left to resume the house hunt.
The bearded chairman called the Skimmers to order for their monthly meeting. Marie, the group’s secretary and accountant, had prepared for the meeting by placing pitchers of iced tea and glasses on the long table. Everyone settled in and, as was their routine, filled their glasses before the meeting started.
Routine financial and administrative matters were discussed and resolved. Then the chairman opened the floor for new business. Marie, who seldom spoke at the meetings except for her financial reports, raised her hand. “I’ve been doing some research and a lot of thinking about that FBI investigation that seemed to peter out a while back. I think we should keep an eye out for possible FBI infiltrators in the shipyard. They’re well-known to plant people on site when they want information. I’m a bit afraid that they may try to sneak someone into the yard to spy on us.”
She was repeating the thoughts of “Papa,” but the people at the table had no idea of that. In fact, they had no idea that “Papa” even existed.
The chairman took up the subject immediately. He didn’t know about Papa, but he knew that Marie had a lot of good ideas and was certainly someone to listen to. “That is an excellent observation. Any thoughts, people?”
A man at the end of the table chimed in with, “Probably not that easy to get people into the shipyard. The hiring freeze would probably slow them down.”
Another man differed on this. “There’s always a few people coming and going, even with the hiring freeze. There’s transfers from other shipyards, and there’s always the Navy guys. The hiring freeze don’t apply to either of them.”
The chairman took up the conversation from there. “Okay. Were there any shipyard transfers recently?” The question was directed at a small grey-haired lady about halfway down the table.
“There’ve been two shop guys that transferred in from Norfolk so they could be closer to their homes. One welder and one rigger. But I don’t think they could be a threat to us, with them working out on the waterfront and all. There’s one new Navy guy, a new combat systems officer that came in. He’s already created some waves. Got Vince Askew in trouble with the shipyard commander. He would be worth watching, I guess. I don’t know for sure.”
The chairman picked up on this. “Anyone else had anything to do with this guy?”
One man raised his hand.
The chairman nodded to him and asked, “What do you think?”
“I really don’t know. He seems like a classic Navy guy, more like the shipboard sailors than the engineering officers, if you know what I mean. He’s mainly been a fleet sailor, although he has done a tour of duty up in Bath, Maine. Seems a bit too rough around the edges to be an FBI guy, I think.”
At that, the man who had first mentioned the hiring freeze spoke up. “Are you sure about him working at the shipyard in Bath?”
“Yeah. He was the quality assurance officer up there.”
“Then something is definitely fishy here. The planning officer told us that we’re scheduled to train him next week. Why does he need training if he’s been around shipyards before? We’ve never trained any of the other officers the Navy sends in to babysit us. Why are we starting now?”
Discipline at the table suddenly deteriorated as everyone began talking at once. After a moment, the chairman slapped his palm sharply on the table. “All right, all right. Pipe down. Do any of you have any idea why this guy is getting the royal treatment by the planning department?”
Another man held up his hand, saying, “It ain’t only planning. When he’s done there, they’ve scheduled him to come over to where I am in the supply department for more training. We’ve never trained any Navy people before.”
At this, the chairman reared back in his chair, staring straight ahead. It was a position that he took when something very bad was happening. The people around the table had only seen this a couple of times over the past decade, and they knew something serious was coming.
Finally, the chairman spoke. “Let’s not get carried away here. This may not be everything that it seems to be. I want those of you who work in the shipyard to get around somehow so that you see this guy and can recognize him if you need to. Then I want all of you to keep an eye on him. Watch his every move. We don’t want to overreact and do something that could bring any more attention down on us, but we’ll take care of him if we have to.”
The chairman then cautioned them to be very careful in the near future. “Don’t do anything rash. If we have to dispose of this dude, we’ll do it in a methodical manner that won’t scream murder and won’t track back to us. For now, let’s get our ducks in a row and figure out if this really is, or isn’t, a Navy guy. We’ll meet again next Saturday. Same time, same place. Thanks, everybody.” With that the meeting adjourned.
By the middle of the afternoon, Lee was tired. He’d looked at almost every home in the newspaper and had found nothing that he liked. He was driving down the main street of Media for the hundredth time when he spotted a real estate office. He decided to pull in and go talk to someone. His way wasn’t working, and maybe they could help.
As luck would have it, as soon as he walked into the office, he heard a voice greeting him. “Hello Lee. Did you finally decide to ask for help?” It was the woman who had showed him the house that morning. She was laughing cheerfully.
He put on his most sheepish face and said, “Yes, ma’am. What can you do for me?”
The realtor began by asking a series of questions that he was able to answer readily. Then, using a thick book of real estate listings, she began to find properties that interested him. They spent over an hour looking at pictures and narrowing the search. At the end of the hour, she had a list of ten properties they would look at the next afternoon. They parted company after agreeing to meet the next day at her office. Lee headed back to the Navy base.
As soon as Lee was in his BOQ room, he gr
abbed the phone and dialed Maggie’s number. She picked up immediately. “Hey big guy. I thought you’ be calling today. What’s new in Philly?” Lee told her all about his house-hunting adventures and misadventures. She was very interested, asking questions and giving him hints on the kind of home she would like. Finally, the conversation turned to his visit with the accounting firm yesterday. “Lee, what about your uncle? Did you go see him?”
“No. I did go to his office, but it turns out he retired and is living in Florida now. I did spend some time with his partner, though. He’s been handling everything that my folks left behind since Uncle Mike retired last year.”
“Oh. Is there anything interesting there?’
“Yeah. For starters, there’s a climate-controlled storage unit full of things that Mike kept for me out of the old home. I told him we’d go through it sometime after you get out here. That way we can decide together what we want and what we don’t want.”
“Good, that might be tough for you. But for me, it might be really interesting, maybe even fun. I’ll be able to see some of your childhood stuff. I’d like that.”
“Yeah, Mag. But there is something else that is even more important, and something that’s a bit scary. There’s some money I didn’t know about.” Maggie laughed cheerfully. “I’m sure it’s no big deal. It’s not like either one of us is a millionaire or anything. After all, a few extra bucks can always come in handy in an emergency.”
“Maggie, I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to blurt it out. One of us is a millionaire. In fact, one of us is a multi-millionaire!”
There was a long silence, then, “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“No, love. There was some money when my folks died. Then Uncle Mike invested it. Now they tell me that it’s worth somewhere over six million dollars.”
“Oh my God, Lee. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing, Maggie. I told them to keep it and just keep handling it. I don’t want it. At least, I don’t want it now. I’ve got a good life and a good woman. I don’t want to do anything that could jeopardize either one of them. I started out looking for a nice, affordable little house yesterday before I knew about this. Today, after I slept on all of this, I kept looking for a nice, affordable, little house. I want the life we talked about and dreamed about. Nothing else. Is that okay with you?”
Maggie was crying softly over the telephone. “You big idiot. Of course that’s all right. It would have scared me to death if you had decided anything else. I really do want the life we’ve talked about. I don’t care about money. I love you, you big nut!” Now she was over the crying and was laughing somehow, softly. He was laughing with her, but tears were running down his cheeks. This was what he’d wanted to hear.
They talked that night for hours.
That evening, somewhere in Philadelphia, a telephone rang. The voice that answered it was rough and demanding. “Yeah?”
The man’s voice on the other end was equally rough, with a strong South Philly accent. “Boss, I think he made me. He spotted me yesterday and then today I saw him staring at me.” “Okay, stay with him. But let Sal take the close work so he don’t see you no more. What’s he been doing?”
“He went to some accountant’s place in Media yesterday. Stayed for a couple of hours. Then he just drove around in Delaware County. Today he went back there and spent the day looking at houses that’s for sale. He’s back on the Navy base now.”
“Okay, Billy. You guys stay with him. Don’t let him out of your sight if you can help it. Oh, watch for long-range hit men with rifles. I’ve been hearing rumors.”
“Gotcha, Boss. If I see anything I’ll call.”
“Thanks, Billy. Good night now.”
“G’night, Boss.”
That same evening, another meeting was in progress in the old mansion on the Main Line. The older gentleman was again chairing the meeting. “Let us dispense with all formalities. I’ve called you together to hear what Marita has brought us from the Skimmers last meeting. Marita, you have the floor.”
She stood and began speaking, referring to a small notebook that she carried. “Okay. To make a long story short, the Skimmers feel that the new combat systems officer, a Lieutenant Raines, might be an FBI plant. They’re basing this on the special attention that the planning and supply officers are giving him. There’s some doubt, but they believe they’re right and are watching him closely. After hearing their logic, I think that they could be correct.”
The stocky man at the table sat up straight in his chair, mouthing “I’ll be damned” under his breath. Then he spoke. “I’ve met him. He certainly seems like a normal Navy guy. And he has a lot of experience with Navy missile systems. I don’t know how an FBI guy could be that sharp, and up to date, on shipboard systems. But I guess anything is possible.”
The chairman thought about this for a moment. “We don’t want to overreact. Let’s let the Skimmers do their thing, and we’ll watch them. But this worries me. Having someone that’s possibly an FBI agent sitting in the combat systems office is getting a little too close to our operation. He’s actually closer to us than he is to the Skimmers. If he’s one of them, this isn’t good news.”
The other man agreed. “Yeah. But it’s still a long shot. Raines just doesn’t seem like anything but a hard-charging Navy guy. He even bitched a bit about having to get a new security clearance. I’d say that we should just watch, listen, and let the Skimmers do their thing.”
The chairman nodded. “I agree. But let’s watch him carefully. Can you put a bug on his office phone? How about his home phone?”
The stocky man nodded. “I can do the office easy. But he’s staying at the BOQ, so I’d have a lot of trouble getting in there.”
This statement caused the chairman to look up sharply. “Why’s he at the BOQ? Isn’t he an older guy? Isn’t he married?” The questions shot out.
The other woman at the table took it on herself to reply. “No. He’s not married. I’d say that he’s in his early thirties. Not over thirty-five.”
The chairman thought about this and then replied to her, “Can you get access to the paperwork he turned in for his security clearance? I’d like to have his background checked. If you can, make a copy of it and get it to me.”
She just nodded.
The chairman continued, “All right. Please watch him and monitor his calls as best we can. Get me his clearance forms, and I’ll have a check done on his background. Marita, please call me if you hear anything further from the Skimmers. Thank you my children. Be alert, but don’t worry. We can handle this person if we have to.”
With that, the meeting adjourned.
Lee met with the realtor at 1 p.m. on Sunday. She was ready and they immediately started on a tour of homes. The first two homes were far bigger than Lee wanted, so he looked her list over and eliminated two others. The third home was so run-down, and smelled so bad, that Lee wouldn’t stay to tour it.
The fourth home intrigued Lee even before they reached it. It was very close to Strath Haven, the school he’d seen when he’d first driven out here. Driving from Media to the home, they turned just before the school into a beautiful wooded area. After a short drive, they were on a road, Sykes Lane, that seemed to wander through a huge tree-lined circle behind the school. All the homes were Cape Cod style and all were constructed of bricks of various colors. Although they were all similar in architecture, each home had its own alterations and landscaping that gave it an individual character. The realtor pulled up in front of one of them. Lee looked at her, saying, “This is more like it!” For the first time, he brought out the camera that he’d been carrying. She smiled.
The house was exactly what Lee had been looking for. It had three bedrooms, two full bathrooms, a nice living room, and a big empty room upstairs that he could use as a study or a TV room. The basement was full and dry, and the place was actually air-conditioned! It also had a big two-car garage and a screened-in rear porch. It sa
t on a well-groomed acre of land with several trees that he couldn’t identify. The only drawback was that the kitchen was badly deteriorated, but he knew he could replace that. He loved it. He spent an hour going over the home, taking pictures and inspecting everything.
Finally, he turned to the realtor and asked, “How soon can you get me the paperwork?”
They submitted a formal offer of $72,500 that afternoon. It was accepted immediately. Lee had just bought his first home. The deal wouldn’t close for four to six weeks, but Lee was thrilled.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - PLANNING, ESTIMATING, AND SUPPLY
aptain Ray Matyas, the shipyard’s planning officer, was hosting the meeting. Lee and the shipyard’s head planner, Bob Farmer, were the only other people present. The captain was planning to give Lee an overview of the shipyard’s planning process before turning him over to the planners to learn the intricate details of their planning and estimating work. The three had filled their coffee cups and exchanged small talk, but now the captain was ready for the business at hand.
“All right, Lee, tell me everything that you know about the business of planning a Navy ship overhaul.”
Lee drew a deep breath and thought for a moment. “Well, about a year before the overhaul starts, a group of shipyard P&E8 people will come aboard ship and conduct a POT&I9 that usually takes about a week. They write up the repair and overhaul work that’s going to be needed during the overhaul. They bring this write-up back to the shipyard and put their notes about the required work into job order format. Then they do their magic to estimate the cost of the individual job orders. They also get a list of new ship alterations that are to be done to the ship during the overhaul and they estimate those and put them into job orders. Then they get approval of the individual job orders from the Navy, funding is transferred, and the overhaul starts. That’s my entire understanding of the process.”
