“Yes, Sergeant Stagmeyer was just complimenting the food,” said Lindsay.
Lindsay thanked Stagmeyer and left to find Luke. He wasn’t far, just outside the tent discussing baseball with Adam. She was surprised at how much relief she felt getting out of the crowded tent into the open. She hadn’t really realized she was feeling so confined.
“Luke,” she said. “Sleep well, I hope?”
“Pretty good. Food’s not bad, either. Nice job you have here if you didn’t have to get up before the crack of dawn.” Adam caught sight of Joel and trotted off to meet him. “You doing okay? You look a little winded.”
“I’m fine. Luke, you see how many people are here. I’m sure you must have other things you’d rather be doing?”
“Trying to run me off?”
“No. Just feeling guilty.”
“Don’t. John’s been working my butt off. This is like vacation. Adam tells me you’re digging up the bodies today.”
“That’s the plan.”
Luke laughed as he looked around at the people, tents, the generators, the lights. You guys sure make a big deal out of it.”
“Thanks for being here, Luke.” Lindsay pointed out Drew and Eric getting up from breakfast. “I suspect those two are involved in some way. I don’t have any concrete proof whatsoever.”
Luke scrutinized them through the door of the tent. “Want me to keep an eye on them?”
“Stealthily.”
“You got it.”
It occurred to Lindsay as she watched Drew and Eric that perhaps she didn’t need to find an expert in collectibles to talk to, but an expert in crime. After all, it was the theft of the items that she was curious about. As soon as it reached a decent hour, Lindsay knew who to call.
“We are going to start the excavation,” said Lewis, coming up behind Lindsay. “Want to watch?”
“A little while. It’s likely to get crowded in there, and I’m not really needed. You got Peter calmed down yet?”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen. He’s been hoping for something like this to come along, and now he’s depending on it for his dissertation.” They started walking toward the tents covering Features 2 and 3 along with a crowd of other people. “Tell me, Luke, what kind of project is John working on?”
“He’s building an aquarium in South Carolina—one of those where you watch the fish through glass. You’ll have to come down for the opening. Lindsay, I’m going to hang around out here.”
“Sure, Luke.” She took his hand and squeezed it, then continued on toward the tent. On the way, she saw Eric Van Horne in deep conversation with the guy bussing the tables. There was something about him that Lindsay couldn’t put her finger on. She was staring at him when he looked up and caught her eye for a moment and smiled.
An argument was already under way when they arrived at the first tent, the one over Feature 3, the cemetery, assigned to Joel, Sharon, and Powell.
“You’re not digging with that shovel,” said Joel. “In fact, you’re not digging at all. You’re the one that’s been worried about punching a hole in the coffins, and you bring along a pointed shovel.”
“You can’t dig with those flat things,” insisted Peter, holding his shovel with the tip in the ground.
“We are not digging a hole. We are excavating,” said Joel. “And we’re taking it down a layer at a time. We have to get a profile once we’ve uncovered half.”
Lewis was about to say something when the geologist stepped in. “Joel’s right, Peter. Let them work.”
Powell leaned over to Sharon and whispered, “I think something happened to Claire, and she came back as this guy. Did we do some kind of shit in a past life, or what?”
Lindsay tried to ignore the dissension and study the contents of the tent—alien machines, cylinders, and all manner of containers. Several of the other graduate students were busy setting up, testing, and calibrating. As she looked at the tubing associated with the machines, Lindsay realized that these were the mechanisms they would use to capture the antique air. She wanted to go over and ask them about the process, but they looked very focused.
She spotted a chart posted on the side of the tent, just inside the entrance, and went over to have a look. It was a diagram of the extraction system. It was complex, but essentially a sharp stylus, similar to a drill bit, imbedded in a boxlike structure with flexible tubing leading from it. Following its path was like working one of those maze puzzles. Lindsay put a finger on the start—where the stylus would fit into the coffin and traced the diagram to a container cooled in a tank of liquid nitrogen. Apparently, once the air was sampled, they were going to pump cold argon gas into the coffins—to keep the remains stabilized, Lindsay guessed.
“Impressive, huh,” said Marina over her shoulder.
“I’ll say.”
“I still don’t understand how they are going to penetrate the coffins and not let any outside air in.”
“I think it has something to do with the design of this stylus and the box attached to it,” said Lindsay.
“I guess.”
Lindsay heard Lewis suggest to Peter that he go to the Feature 2 tent. “It will be going faster. Half has already been excavated once, and a profile already done.”
Peter agreed, and Lindsay, Marina, and Drew walked with Lewis to the Feature 2 tent where Adam, Byron, and Dillon were already under way with the excavation.
“Won’t the decaying body have contaminated the air?” Lindsay asked.
“There’ll be a lot of gases we’ll have to sift through for sure. But, we know what to expect from the decaying process.” He grinned as though looking forward to the tedious procedure. “If this works, it will be one of the oldest air samples to date. Do you know what a find that is?”
* * *
It didn’t take long to reach the part of the coffin that had already been excavated. Peter’s eyes glowed with excitement.
“Now be careful.”
“They will,” said Drew, smiling at him. “Don’t worry. We are going to take it back a little farther. You said you don’t want it completely uncovered?”
“That’s right. The dirt covering will help keep it stable,” said Peter.
Lewis and Drew determined that sifting the fill could wait until after the project was completed. The dirt went on a pile beside the pit. It had just grown light outside when they got the coffin about halfway uncovered. They took whiskbrooms and swept the surface, examining it for writing or any kind of symbols.
“Look at this,” said Adam.
Peter jumped down into the hole with him. “Damn. We’re not going to get any air from this one.”
Lindsay squatted by the edge of the pit. Lewis and Jarman were on either side of her. Jarman shook his head.
“Same thing on the other side,” said Drew.
Peter looked at Lindsay. “I hope you’re right and there is another one, or we’ve all come down here for nothing.”
Lindsay barely heard his complaints. She was trying to figure out what the holes punched into the side of the coffin meant.
Chapter 31
The Grave Digger
THE SIX OF them, Jarman, Posnansky, Peter, Lewis, Drew, and Lindsay stood outside the tent discussing how to proceed.
Posnansky puffed on a brown cigarette. “Is there any need to x-ray the damn thing? Why don’t we check it for weaknesses, haul it out of the ground, and concentrate on the second coffin.”
“If there is a second coffin,” Peter grumbled.
“We’ll know soon enough,” said Jarman. “Do you see any reason not to take Poss’s suggestion?”
“Lindsay?” Lewis had that look she’d seen him use with other people. The one that asked the question: Are you about to make me look bad—this was a hell of a lot of trouble and expense.
“I believe there’s another coffin, based on the archaeological and remote-sensing data I’ve seen. Like Alex Jarman said, we’ll know soon enough. As for this one, I personally don’t
see any reason to zap it inside the lead coffin, though I’d like to take traditional x-rays when it’s out. Can you guys do simple stuff?”
Posnansky grinned. “Yeah. We can do the simple stuff.”
“Good,” said Jarman, nodding. “Let’s complete the excavation, see if this thing has any cracks, and get it out of the ground.”
* * *
Juliana Skyler, expert in nondestructive evaluation, sat cross-legged in the pit with the coffin. “What we are going to do here,” she told the archaeology crew with elaborate gestures, “is to see if the coffin is in good enough condition to be lifted out of the ground.”
“If it isn’t?” asked Drew.
“We’ll have to open and analyze it here. Simply put, what we’re going to do now is send different kinds of energy through the coffin. If the coffin is in absolutely perfect condition, whether it’s heat, or sound, or electromagnetic currents being introduced, they will go through relatively undistorted.” She moved her hands smoothly along the top of the coffin. “However, if there are flaws or weaknesses, the various currents and eddies will be distorted.” She moved her hands across again, occasionally wiggling her fingers. “The degree or pattern of distortion tells us how serious the weakness is.” Skyler spoke as if she had explained it a hundred times.
Lindsay was watching Skyler and her assistants monitor their equipment, when she suddenly remembered a call she needed to make. Lindsay slipped out of the tent and headed for the house. On the way she met Phil McBride at the entrance.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long," she said.
“Just got here. I know you said it would probably be tomorrow, but I got a colleague to cover for me all this week and I thought I’d pop down early.”
Lindsay took him to get his pass, which Stagmeyer had ready as promised, and Phil clipped it on his collar. “I didn’t realize you had such security."
“Besides the very expensive equipment, they have some cobalt for the gamma x-rays of the lead coffins. It comes with its own set of guards, inspectors, and sacks of sandbags.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Me, too. And way out of my depth. They’re good at explaining everything as they go along, but it is far more complex than I realized. The first coffin was compromised, so they are checking to see if they can lift it out of the ground. Come with me and I’ll introduce you to Francisco Lewis.”
Lindsay took him to the tent and motioned Lewis over to introduce him to Phil McBride. “Phil and Elaine own the cabin from the site.”
“We appreciate your sharing your photographs,” said Lewis, shaking his hand.
“I’ve got to go make a call. I’ll be back shortly.” Lindsay was off before Lewis could ask her any questions she didn’t want to answer.
This time she decided to use her car phone. Inside the relative privacy of her SUV she dialed the FBI.
“Parker, hi. This is Lindsay Chamberlain.”
“Lindsay, how are you? I heard about what happened. You doing okay?”
“Pretty good.”
“I don’t have to tell you how lucky you are.”
“I try not to think about it too much . . . actually that’s not true. I’m working on something that may or may not be related, and I need to ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“If you heard of a theft where the thief took some valuable historical documents and along with them took some items that didn’t seem to have any value, is there anything you could make of it?” Lindsay explained about the missing paper, ledgers, and printer’s blocks. When she finished, she felt a little silly. What could he possibly make of what she had told him? So she was surprised when he gave her an immediate answer.
“Forgery. Particularly, document forgery.”
“Forgery? How?”
“One of the problems with forging documents is making the paper look old. Some do it by soaking it in strong tea to discolor it and by putting coffee grounds on it for the foxing—the speckles often found on old documents—then drying it in the oven. Some forgers make their own paper. But the best method is to use genuinely old paper. Same goes for using the engraver’s blocks for graphics. If you have the real thing, you don’t have to draw it and introduce mistakes.”
“But the ledgers have lines on them. What would—?”
“Money.”
“Money? I thought . . . I don’t understand.”
He laughed. “Can’t spend it, but you can sell it to collectors. At one time, states and even companies printed their own money. Companies printed it to be exchanged for only their own goods. Anyway, when paper was scarce . . . as it was from time to time, they used what paper was available . . . recycled old ledger paper was common. Very collectible stuff.”
“How hard is it to forge documents and the like?”
“Depends on how talented you are.”
“Is it hard to detect?”
“Sometimes very hard. Forgers can be very clever. There’s hardly anything one person can make that another can’t make just like it.”
“But old things . . . aren’t there tests?”
“Yes, but if you use old paper, chemically age the ink, have a good hand . . . One popular thing to do is to use a genuinely old document . . . like a letter written and signed by a president. Then add something, like a postscript about a notorious event in his life. You have a more valuable document, and most of it’s authentic.”
“Is there a type of person who is a forger?”
“Not one particular type, but a collection of possible traits. For example, some are artistic, but some are just good with a computer. Often they are very meticulous and detail oriented—have to be, to do what they do. Rarely women, but not completely unheard of. Some are motivated by the desire to prove they can do it. Some are people who feel they have been wronged in some way and want to show their ability. Or they are people with low self-esteem and success reinforces their self-image. Some like to match their ability against an expert—risk takers. Some are just greedy.”
“This is something I never thought of.”
“I can fax you some information, if you like. Got a number?”
Lindsay thought a second. “The library. I don’t have the number here, but if you call Afton Phillips at the Marella Oliver Public Library in Kelley’s Chase, Tennessee, and ask her for the fax number, I’m sure she’ll give it to you. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Glad to help. You think this has something to do with what happened to you?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible, but I really don’t know.”
“Be careful. People don’t like getting caught.”
“Right now I’ve got the army reserve camped out in my front yard.” Lindsay told him about the site and what they were doing.
“Damn, that sounds interesting as hell. Let me know how it turns out. You know, once upon a time, I wanted to be an archaeologist.”
“It’s not too late.”
“Maybe that will be my retirement vocation. Take care, Lindsay. I’ll send this information right away.”
“Thanks.”
Lindsay got out of her Explorer and ran into the man who was earlier bussing tables in the mess.
“Hi. My name’s Mike Gentry. I thought maybe you and me could go out when I get off. I saw you making eyes at me.” He winked at her.
“You saw me being polite, Mr. Gentry.” Lindsay started around him, but he blocked her path.
“Call me Mike.”
“They’re expecting me to look at some bones right now. Don’t block my path. I’m not going out with you.”
He stepped aside. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend. I saw you looking at me and thought you were interested. I like girls with long legs and long hair.”
Lindsay brushed past him. Her heart was pounding. She didn’t know why she felt so afraid—there were plenty of people around. The crew and science personnel were eating lunch at different times, so Mrs. Laurens had had her people bringing trays of food to
the mess tent since noon. But she didn’t like that man. She didn’t like the way he wore his hair, his gold jewelry, his voice. Especially, she didn’t like presumptuous men. She would have taken flight if she could; she would have run if it wouldn’t have made her look afraid—and vulnerable.
A shadow startled her as she walked past a copse of trees. “Hey,” a voice said. “You okay?” It was Luke leaning against a tree out of view of the house.
“Luke.” She put a hand to her chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Just looking out for you. I saw you come up here and thought I’d follow. That guy’s had a couple of intense conversations with Eric Van Horne. I’ve been watching like you said.”
“I’m glad to know that you were there. He . . . well he frightened me.”
“Have you ever seen him before?”
“No. Just here. He’s just a type I don’t like.”
“I’ll find out who he is. The people around here seem to like to talk to Indians. Maybe I’ll become a private investigator.” Luke grinned, showing even, sparkling white teeth.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Have you talked to John?”
“Last night.”
“I suppose you told him about what’s been happening.”
“He’s not real happy. He wants me to stay here a while. I agree.”
Lindsay felt very relieved, but a little disappointed that John didn’t drop everything and come down himself. But she wouldn’t have liked that, either. Somehow, she had to figure out how to get her old independent feeling back. Every time she seemed to be making progress, something set her back. Unfinished business, a voice in her head said. “Where did that come from?”
“What?” asked Luke.
“Nothing.” As they crossed the bridge, they heard whooping and clapping coming from the tent over Feature 3, the cemetery. “Must have found something,” Lindsay told Luke and increased her pace around to the gate.
“I’m going to ask about that guy,” Luke told her as they parted ways.
Airtight Case Page 29
