“He was just a kid then. Thousands of kids lost mothers and fathers in those days and have never made an issue out of it.”
“Hmm,” said Linsky to himself as he examined some spots on the plant’s leaves.
“I also read his academy admission evaluation,” said Fischer. “There were no red flags.”
Linsky turned from the window and the plants on the sill to look at Lieutenant Fischer. “Being evaluated for academic value to the PRA is not the same as being evaluated as a suspect in an official investigation. And let’s not be too quick to discount the manner of his father’s death. Hatred’s embers burn long. What about the mother?”
“She’s a dedicated citizen,” said Lieutenant Fischer. “Eager to cooperate, but I don’t think she knows anything useful. I get the impression neither Chambers nor her boy was in the habit of telling her much.”
“Because they were hiding something?” asked Linsky.
Fischer shook his head. “Because she’s a gossip.”
Colonel Linsky returned to his chair and sat down. He smoothed back his hair with his right hand. “So, barring any new evidence, we’re left with our initial conclusion. Accidental death.”
“I think so, sir.”
Linsky laced his fingers together and placed them on the desk in front of him, momentarily lost in thought. Then he looked up at Lieutenant Fischer. “The most pivotal person in the most significant effort of our time smashes his car into a bridge just before his work is completed. Just when he is needed most,” said Linsky. “I refuse to accept that as coincidental. There’s more to it.”
“We’ll keep digging,” offered Lieutenant Fischer.
“Do that. Pay attention to every possible lead. I receive daily inquiries on this matter and I don’t want to disappoint.”
“Understood, sir.”
Fischer turned and walked toward the door.
“And lieutenant,” said Colonel Linsky. “Look deeper into the grandson’s connection. Check his apartment door monitor, his buy card history, public transportation records, city safety cameras. The full treatment. I think there’s more going on here than meets the eye.”
“Yes sir.”
Chapter 16
Lena arrived at the apartment a few minutes after Logan and Cap.
“That was fast,” said Logan as he held the door open for her to enter.
“Really?” she said. “Or are you two just slow?”
“I guess we like to look our best,” he replied with a smile. He led her into the small living room and turned on the view screen hanging on the wall. He handed her the remote control.
“Feel free to help yourself to whatever is in the fridge,” he said as he went into his room to finish getting ready.
“There’s no way I’m eating anything that comes out of a bachelor’s fridge,” she said as she sat down in front of the view screen. She cycled through a few channels showing the usual mix of sporting events, comedies, and dramas. She stopped when she found the news channel.
A young well-dressed male reporter was providing the latest information about a clan raid. “The Defense Ministry has released new footage of the atrocity, which occurred in the predawn hours this morning on the frontier west of Nashville.” Images of dark-clad armed militants wearing red scarves across their faces appeared on the screen. They were running and shooting indiscriminately at fleeing men, women and children.
The reporter continued. “This large raiding party is believed to have crossed the Mississippi two days ago near Memphis and quickly slipped deep into the frontier territories. They attacked the town of Bixby and looted a food convoy destined for Chicago as well as a nearby farm development.”
The view screen showed footage of a half dozen burning convoy trucks on a two lane road. In the distance, black smoke rose from a small town.
“There is still no report on the number of casualties,” said the reporter, “but we have been assured the situation is now fully under control. A strike force is in pursuit of the clan raiders, but advanced anti-aircraft and other weaponry provided by both the Pacific Federation and the so-called League of Free Cities has limited the PRA military’s ability to kill or capture the raiders. There are also unconfirmed reports the raiders downed two pursuing Bering Class helicopters.”
“The Congress of Representatives passed a resolution this afternoon calling upon the Guardians to direct the military to take all measures necessary to fully and completely secure the frontier. The Guardians and military leadership are now in closed door discussions regarding how to address this rapidly escalating conflict on the frontier. Here is Guardian Helen Hyatt, who spoke to us just moments ago prior to joining her colleagues in this critical meeting.”
Guardian Hyatt appeared on the view screen. “This is intolerable. We have heard the calls of the people struggling to bring the frontier region under control, and we will answer that call.”
She looked directly into the camera. “These good people have labored and tilled the soil to make the frontier fruitful once again, but clan raiders and their foreign backers are destroying everything they’ve worked for and filling their hearts with fear. But rest assured, the People’s Republic of America will not let this aggression go unanswered. We will bring peace, prosperity, and security to the frontier. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed inside.” She smiled and walked toward a large wooden door. An armed guard standing next to the door opened it for her.
“Strong words from Guardian Hyatt,” said the reporter as the image switched back to him standing at the scene of the attack. “But what about the views of those directly impacted by the raids? I have with me Yolanda Perez, who awoke before dawn this morning to the sound of gunfire outside her home. A home which has been reduced to ashes.”
The camera panned to a young woman holding a small child in her arms. The child was sobbing into her shoulder. They were both covered in soot. “Someone has to do something,” she said to the reporter, her eyes flashing with anger. “Why do the Guardians tolerate this? I know they want to resolve all of this peacefully, but they’re burning our homes and stealing our food. They’re murdering us! It’s time to fight back!”
“More trouble on the frontier,” said Cap, who had come into the living room to hear the report. “What the hell’s going on out there?”
“Judging from the news, it looks like the Waste clans are getting bolder and bolder,” said Lena.
Cap went to the view screen and tapped a few controls in the lower right corner. The image changed from the news channel to a peaceful scene of ocean waves rolling gently onto a sunny beach. “We’re going to hear plenty about the frontier, the clans, the League of Free Cities, and all the rest when AD starts. For now, let’s listen to some music and relax.” Cap pressed a button on the controller.
Lena was silent for a moment as she listened to the music. “What’s this? It’s…unusual.”
“Louis Armstrong, Mack the Knife,” said Cap. “Listen to it. I think you’ll dig it.”
“Dig it?” she said with a chuckle. “You’re in a world of your own, Caparelli.”
“Give it a try,” he said as he walked toward his room. He stole a glance over his shoulder before going through the doorway and saw Lena looking at book titles on the bookshelf. He smiled when he saw her hand tapping her hip to the beat of the music.
Chapter 17
Cap woke to the sound of someone pounding on his bedroom door. “What?” he croaked, his face half buried in his pillow.
“Let’s go!” Logan yelled through the door. “Lena’s here. We’re waiting on you.”
Cap pulled himself out of bed and threw on an old blue bathrobe. He opened the door and blinked, bleary eyed, at Logan.
“Nice bed hair,” observed Lena, who appeared from the kitchen. “Get ready. Let’s go.”
“What are you guys talking about? Where are we going?”
“To solve the riddles, my friend,” said Logan. “Lena thinks she’s cracked the code. Remember t
he answers? Flowers, Edgar Allen Poe, the letter V?”
“What?” asked Cap, trying to catch up to the conversation.
“I think it’s a place,” said Lena. “My piano instructor teaches out of her home on Poe Avenue and there’s a flower shop on the five hundred block. You know V is the Roman numeral for five, right? Anyway, I go by the shop once a week on the bus.”
“You play piano?” asked Cap.
“And the clarinet,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “If you want to come with us, you’d better get dressed.”
“But don’t we want to watch the banner race? You know, top ten racers from around the country…banner thieves,” his voice trailed off. “C’mon, I’ve got money riding on it.”
“No,” said Lena without hesitation. “Get dressed.”
Cap looked at her as if to argue, then said, “Okay, okay. Give me a minute. Someone make some coffee.”
“Will do,” said Logan. “Now get moving. Unhitch the plow.”
Cap closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. “Did I just hear you say ‘unhitch the plow’? I didn’t know you spoke hillbilly.” Then he closed his bedroom door.
Forty-five minutes later, the three of them were stepping off a city bus on Poe Avenue. It was a warm sunny day and the sidewalk was full of people on their way to the banner racecourse, which wound its way around the Capitol District.
“Finally,” said Cap with an approving smile as he looked at a pair of women walking together and laughing. “It’s finally warm enough for women to wear dresses.”
“You’re a classy guy, Caparelli,” said Lena. Then she pointed and said, “It’s a couple blocks up this way.”
They wove their way through the pedestrian traffic, which was walking in the opposite direction toward a fenced-off section of the racetrack two blocks away. There was already a sizeable crowd lined up along the fence. As they walked along, Lena occasionally stopped to look at something in a shop or to talk to street vendors selling everything from pretzels to jewelry. Logan tried to hide his impatience with her uncharacteristically relaxed pace. He’d been wondering about the unusual note his grandfather had sent him for several days now and was anxious to solve the mystery. Lena’s theory that the riddles were clues about a place made sense to him and he was eager to find out if she was right.
“What are we supposed to be looking for at this flower shop anyway?” asked Cap as they crossed the street to the five hundred block of Poe Avenue.
“I don’t know,” said Logan. “I guess we’ll know it when we see it.”
“That’s very helpful,” replied Cap. “Maybe you can buy me some flowers.”
“It’s not like we have any place to be now that our finals are over,” said Lena as she looked at the people on the opposite side of the busy street. “The graduation ceremony isn’t until tomorrow.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Cap. “I was happily sleeping away the day before you two came banging on my door.”
They reached a store with a display of flowers and bouquets in the window. The brightly painted sign hanging from a wrought iron bracket above the door read “Wallflowers and Early Bloomers”.
“I guess this is it,” said Cap as he stared at the sign.
“You don’t miss a thing, Caparelli,” said Lena. She opened the door and entered.
Logan looked at Cap and smiled. “Has she fallen under the spell of your charm yet?”
Cap shook his head. “She’s playing hard to get.”
Logan chuckled. Holding the door open for Cap to enter, he said, “Yes. Very hard to get.”
The flower shop was small. Along one wall was a line of refrigerators with glass doors containing various flower arrangements in vases. On the floor around the main counter and along its side were buckets filled with different kinds of flowers. At the back of the store were decorative vases and other containers for displaying plants and flowers, and an assortment of knickknacks and figurines filled several shelves on the back wall.
“Can I help you?” asked a young man from behind the counter.
“We’re just looking around,” said Cap as he strolled toward the refrigerators, hands clasped behind his back.
“Okay. Please let me know if you need anything,” replied the man. He returned his attention to the bouquet he was arranging at the end of the counter.
Logan looked at the displays and along the walls, hoping to find some new clue. He was surprised by the number of gnomes, fairies, angels, and unicorns displayed in the back of the shop and on the shelves. But if they stock them, there must be demand for them he told himself.
Cap wandered over to Logan and whispered, “Any luck? Or are you just looking to add to your gnome collection?”
Logan shook his head. “Funny guy,” he said. He looked from display to display and sighed. “Maybe this is a waste of time.”
“You think?” asked Cap in a sarcastic tone.
Lena joined them. “See anything, Logan?” she asked. “Anything trigger any thoughts?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Maybe we should…” He stopped speaking mid-sentence and stared at the top shelf. “Look up there. See the bust?”
“Yes,” said Lena as she looked up to see several white plaster statues of angels, fairies, and the like. In the midst of them was a bust of a man wearing a helmet.
“My grandfather wrote me a note that included a line from an ancient poem,” said Logan.
“You didn’t mention a note or a poem,” said Lena. “Just the card you showed the SPD officer.”
“Must have slipped my mind,” Logan replied without looking at her. He repeated the line. “Wanderer, if you come to Sparta, tell them there you have seen us lying here, obedient to their laws.”
“That’s a nice poem,” said Cap. “Cheerful. What does it mean?”
“See the bust of the man?” asked Logan, pointing at a bust of a bearded man wearing a helmet. “I’m guessing that’s Leonidas, the Spartan king who said those words twenty-five hundred years ago.”
Cap raised his eyebrows and looked at Lena, whose gaze was locked on the bust. Then he nodded his head and said in a confident tone, “I agree. It’s Leonidas.”
“Don’t pretend you know who Leonidas was,” said Lena without looking at him.
“Of course I know who he was,” said Cap. “He was the bushy bearded king of the Spartans.”
Logan turned and walked to the counter. “Excuse me,” he said to the clerk. “How much is it for that bust up there?”
The clerk disappeared into a back room and returned with a step ladder. He placed it near the back wall and retrieved the bust from the top shelf. Once back on the ground, he examined it with a puzzled expression on his face. “Strange,” he said. “There’s no tag on it.”
He turned it around in his hands a few times, looking at it from different angles. “Let me call the owner. He’s at home today.”
“I’ll give you twenty dollars,” said Logan, immediately chastising himself for sounding too eager.
The clerk looked at him for a moment and said, “I’m not sure how much it costs, and without a price tag and code I wouldn’t even be able to ring it up. Your buy card wouldn’t work.”
“I’ll pay cash,” said Logan. “It’s a gift for my mother. It’s her birthday today and I need something right away.”
“Well, something like this is a cash-approved item,” said the clerk. “But I should probably call the owner, he’d...”
Logan interrupted. “Fifty dollars. You’d be doing me a huge favor.”
The clerk hesitated. Logan dug in his pocket and pulled out thirty dollars. It was all he had. He looked at Lena and Cap. “A little help would be appreciated.”
Lena had ten dollars, which she gave to Logan. He looked at Cap, who slowly shook his head and produced his money clip. He pulled out two five-dollar bills and reluctantly handed them to Logan, who handed the cash to the clerk.
The clerk was about to say something, but then reconsidered. “Wo
uld you like it giftwrapped?”
“No thanks,” said Logan as he took the bust from the clerk’s hands and handed it to Lena to put in the small backpack she had brought. “We’re in a rush.”
Chapter 18
Logan used his buy card to purchase a cup of coffee for each of them at a nearby café. Cap had suggested that they sit at one of the sidewalk tables, but Logan insisted on sitting inside. Once they were seated and had their coffee, Logan pulled the bust out of Lena’s backpack and placed it in the middle of the table.
“So, what’s the deal with this head, and why did I buy a twenty-percent stake in it?” asked Cap.
Logan looked at the bust and rubbed his chin. “I don’t know, but I can’t believe all of this, the riddles, the flower shop, the poem, and the bust, are not somehow connected.”
Looking at Lena, Cap said, “For Lena’s benefit, can you explain who Leonidas was?”
She shook her head look and said, “Oh, please.”
“He was a Greek king of Sparta,” said Logan as he rotated the bust, examining it.
Lena jumped in. “Twenty-five hundred years ago, Leonidas and three hundred of his men held off a horde of Persians at a narrow pass, buying time for the other Greek cities to prepare their defenses.”
Cap took a sip of coffee. He made a face and added a generous amount of sugar. “I knew that. Are there any more riddles? Any more clues about what to do with the head?”
“It’s a bust. Not a head,” said Lena. “Logan, you have to tell us everything your grandfather wrote to you. We’re obviously missing something.”
Logan took a deep breath. “Okay, you know about the riddles. You know about the line from Leonidas. The only other thing he wrote me was a request.”
Lena leaned forward. “What kind of request?”
“He asked that I keep something safe until he could retrieve it.”
The Navigator (The Apollo Stone Trilogy Book 1) Page 8
