by David Wood
Bones stopped scanning the area and shone his light towards Marshall. “Sounds like a lot of BS to me. How do we know you’re telling the truth?”
“Come on, chief, I just lost my brother, I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“You do realize how offensive it is to call a Native American ‘chief?’ Don’t forget, I’m a foot taller than you and armed.”
Marshall sighed and shook his head. “So you’re gonna shoot me because I’m insensitive?”
Bones opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. This was the first time Dane could ever recall the big man at a loss for words. He looked at Marshall and decided to be a little more direct. “So you didn’t see anyone here earlier?”
“No, I just got here.”
“Well, we’re looking into something. Did you know anything about your brother’s medallion?”
“The Celtic cross?” Marshall’s brow furrowed. “Don’t tell me that turned out to be important.”
“We don’t know for sure, but it could be.”
Marshall’s shoulders sagged, and his voice lost some of its energy. “I knew it. Cornelius always screwed up like this. He needed the money and sold it, but I always thought there was a story behind it. What did you find?”
Bones set his jaw. “Enemies.”
“Enemies?” Marshall paused. “You mean you think the medallion had something to do with him being killed?”
“Assuming we buy your story, then I think it’s a safe bet.”
“Yeah. You know, the reason I went over there is because ever since the night before I had the sense something was wrong with him. They say twins have some sort of special sense, which mostly seems like crap, but I had a really bad feeling. Looks like I was right.”
His voice gained some volume and he looked up. “Hey, we should team up, see if we can find those guys and hunt them down.”
Dane couldn’t help but run his eyes over the smaller man. “No offense, but I think we’ll be better off on our own. I’m impressed that you were able to follow them, but this is going to be dangerous. It already is. You may want to disappear for a while.”
“Don’t you worry about me, I can take care of myself. And I still think we’ll be better off working together. I can be the brains, you guys will be the brawn.”
Bones stuck an index finger in his chest. “Or we could just be the brains AND the brawn.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize how that sounded. You know, what I mean, we’ll be better off with more of us trying to figure things out. I already figured on tracing the registration of the plane they took out here. I can help you, I swear.”
Dane said, “So what exactly do you bring to the table, besides being the first man to ever say something that shut Bones up? Why do we need you?”
If it weren’t for the glasses and freckles, Marshall’s grin might have appeared menacing. “I can tell you about the coat of arms on the envelope.”
Bones snorted. “We already figured that out in under an hour at the library.”
The grin disappeared. “Well I can tell you the tail number on the plane.”
“Nothing we couldn’t get by working some of our contacts in the service, but I’ll grant that it would save us a little effort.”
Marshall nodded. “Absolutely. Plus, I also have something else you guys might want if you’re interested in the Celtic cross.”
Dane took a step closer and allowed himself to edge up onto his toes to increase the amount he towered over Marshall. “And what is that?”
“If I tell you, can I work with you?”
Bones glared at him. “No, but I might keep myself from slapping you. No promises.”
“Okay, okay ch—” He stopped himself as Bones scowled.
“I have the document that was in the envelope.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Think they’re dead?”
O’Meara leaned back in the plush seat as they cruised eighteen thousand feet above the Pennsylvania countryside. The trip back to Philadelphia was short and they’d soon move out of level flight into the descent. O’Meara was not accustomed to traveling on a private jet, but he decided it was something he could get used to.
The raspy voice carried disdain in response. “You were there as well, O’Meara. What do you think?”
He looked across the aisle at the old woman. He still didn’t know what to make of her. To see her move across a room most of the time you’d think she needed a walker, but she had easily kept up during the two short hikes through the snow. He’d watched her going down the stairs into the hidden cellar, watched her lean over the treasure chest with no hesitation. She wasn’t nearly as feeble as she liked to pretend.
“If they had no digging tools, then even if they survived the collapse, there’s no way they got out either of those entrances. But these guys are like bad pennies. I’d be surprised if they don’t somehow turn up.”
“So you answered your own question.”
“I have some contacts in the Pennsylvania State Police. I could probably find out if they dig up any bodies.”
The old woman finally met his eye. “You can do what you want, but right now no one even knows an explosion occurred, let alone suspects casualties. This was an old ruin, and by spring any damage we created will be indistinguishable from what was there before.”
“Unless someone knows the area well enough to know that those piles of collapsed wood and stone are new.”
“Which doesn’t really change the lack of wisdom in calling attention to it now.”
O’Meara knew she was right, but inside he burned at her condescending attitude. In theory they shared the same goal, but he was getting close to telling her to piss off. Especially now that they had the document.
Correction, she has the document. Once they were out of the elements and in the car, she had handed it to him, and he had forced his hands not to tremble reading what he had sought for so long. It was exactly as expected and would be one piece of a chain reaction which the puppet-masters in the government couldn’t control or contain. She had taken it back after five minutes and he hadn’t seen it since.
“So we just wait to see if Maddock and Bonebrake reappear?”
“Can you think of a better idea given our resources and what we know? Nothing they can do will stop us now.”
“We know the hotel they’re staying at. I’ll have my guy keep watching it.”
“You do that. I also know they are due back in San Diego in a week. Perhaps they’ll show up, perhaps they won’t.”
O’Meara sighed. “Presumably you’ll let me know. When should we reveal the document?”
She raised her eyebrows. “It can wait a few days for the perfect opportunity. I was thinking of reserving time to speak at the Patriots rally in D.C. this weekend.”
“Makes sense.” And it did. What better place to reveal what the founders really thought than a rally dedicated to returning to their ideals?
Despite his verbal agreement, O’Meara wasn’t focused on the nature of the rally. He instead pondered the old woman’s choice of pronoun. Despite working closely with him over the past months to obtain the Randolph document, her use of the first person singular made it clear how things now stood.
O’Meara didn’t like it. But he wasn’t without skills or the ability to discover things on his own. In these situations, knowledge could be power. Before they had headed out to the Marshall place, he’d made a discreet phone call to someone he knew in the Pennsylvania State Police. It didn’t sound like the old woman’s thug had gotten himself arrested. But without O’Meara even giving him a name, his contact had mentioned a murder in the city at an apartment owned by one Cornelius Marshall.
Murders are common enough that O’Meara was surprised his contact would have happened to know about it. Until his contact told him the unusual part. O’Meara didn’t know yet how he could use the information, but he figured he’d think of a way.
The police had found not one but two dead bodies in the a
partment of Cornelius Marshall.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I hope I’m not the only one who suspects this document is a load of crap.” Bones said.
Dane’s only surprise at this comment was that Bones had waited nearly an hour to voice it. After agreeing to meet Marshall back in Philadelphia the next day, they had made their way back to the Mustang and hit the road.
“Maybe. But it won’t hurt to check it out.”
“Unless it’s a trap.”
“You think they sent Marshall out there to lure us to a spot in Philadelphia when they could have instead taken us out while we were talking to him? Even for a guy who believes in Bigfoot and Atlantis, that’s a stretch.”
“Hey, dude, Bigfoot is real and Atlantis is a documented historical place. Narrow minds can’t see that, but I won’t hold it against you.”
“Atlantis is historical fact?” Dane rolled his eyes.
“Just you wait. One day they’ll find it and you’ll owe me a beer.” Bones paused. “You’re probably right about Marshall. He’s kind of .. .”
“Weird?”
“Exactly.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Bones laughed. “Good point. Isn’t it my turn to drive?”
They arrived in Philadelphia without crashing or getting a speeding ticket, which Dane could only conclude meant that their luck had taken a turn for the better. They decided to check out of their motel and find another one, as it seemed like the Sons knew where they were staying. Bones parked a few blocks away and Dane went in through a back door with a winter hat pulled down around his ears and a jacket with the collar turned up. Not the most clever disguise, but hopefully enough misdirection to get him in and out without being recognized.
They checked into a place several miles away, paying cash. They chose a non-chain motel that didn’t ask for ID, so Dane was able to use a fake name. Despite all these measures, they slept in two shifts.
The precaution proved unnecessary. After an uneventful night they headed to meet Octavius Marshall, who lived in an apartment in a suburb on the New Jersey side of the city. Both men remained vigilant as they exited the car and went into the building. The neighborhood seemed fine, but four attempts on their life in recent days had triggered a healthy increase in Dane’s paranoia.
In the elevator on the way up, Dane watched floor numbers climb. “I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.”
“Normally I’d say it’s just that stick you have up your butt, but in this case I have the same feeling.”
“And you don’t have a stick up your butt?”
“Exactly.”
Octavius Marshall opened the door before Dane had managed a second knock. He looked different in the daylight and without the hat and winter jacket. Not a single hair adorned his skull, and he seemed even thinner dressed in jeans and white collared shirt. He stood only two or three inches shorter than Dane but couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and thirty pounds.
“Come on in guys, have a seat.”
Dane looked at him. “We just walked right up here. You realize you might be in danger too, right? Do you have any security?”
Marshall gestured with his hand. “Here? No, but I don’t even live here. It was just a convenient place to meet.”
“Wait, then who owns it?”
“I do. It’s my official address. In fact, it’s just about the only thing I own that’s in my name.”
Dane shook his head. “I’m confused now. Why would you do that?”
Marshall’s smile seemed forced. “Are you familiar with a little place on the coast east of here called Atlantic City?”
Bones interjected. “Get to the point.”
“I own several casinos there.”
Bones slapped his hands together. “Hey, my uncle Charlie owns a casino. So now I get it. You owe money to the mob and you want to hide your real stuff as much as you can.”
Marshall shook his head. “When I said own, that might have given the wrong impression. I’m an investor, a silent partner. The casinos are owned by corporations. Those corporations are fronts for the mob, true. But the days of casinos being solely used to launder money are long gone. They’re big business now. Since I’m an investor, I don’t borrow money; I lend money to the mob.”
Bones looked at Dane. “Dude, I never thought I’d say something like this, but we may want to steer clear of this guy.”
Dane remained focused on Marshall. “So that’s why you followed those guys to Hamiltonban. You figured that it was related to your business and they targeted Cornelius.”
“Yes, but now I don’t think so. First, I haven’t heard anything, and there’s not much point in doing something to him and not communicating a demand to me. More importantly, business is great, and everyone’s making loads of money. The reason I keep everything in different names is not because of them.”
Dane made the connection. “The government. Offshore accounts. Tax evasion.”
Marshall said nothing, but his eyes didn’t contradict the observation.
Bones used his deep voice in a Marlon Brando impression. “Let’s cut through it and see the document now. You made us an offer we couldn’t refuse.”
“Sure, sure, I have it right here. Be careful, though, it’s over a hundred and fifty years old. I normally keep it in an airtight vault.”
Dane took the document with a light touch. “Where did you say you got it?”
“My father left the medallion to Cornelius and the envelope with the document to me when he died. He said they had been in the family since at least his grandfather’s grandfather and that they were tied to a mystery which would contain both honor and shame for the family. Therefore, we should not open the envelope unless the family was at risk.”
“So you didn’t open it until...”
“I opened it with Cornelius when he told me he was going to sell the medallion and I let him keep the envelope. I figured all bets were off. It turns out the family is at risk. Cornelius and I are both childless, and he’s dead. At this rate, there won’t be any more family.”
Dane started reading. The document was on some sort of thick parchment, maybe vellum. It felt sturdy in his hands, and the black ink of the words was still perfectly legible.
Mr. Hawthorne,
I find myself near the end of the line. My final rest may be still in the distance, but I am no longer a young man. If you are reading this, it means I am now with my ancestors.
Recent events have given me reason to believe that my grandfather’s secret should come to light. So I will do more than simply pass the secret down to my son, as my grandfather did to my mother and she did to me. But I cannot dishonor the great man’s memory and simply reveal it. Instead, I will leave riddles, something I believe he would have found quite satisfactory.
My grandfather arranged for the final clue to the secret to be hidden in the Library of Congress. Only my mother and Edmund Randolph knew this, though I know not who else they told. The first riddle should be simplicity itself to solve: Look for one of the three, not one of the seven hundred and forty.
The second riddle has appeared before and will reappear when the right man applies his mind to it.
You might ask yourself why I am leaving this letter to you rather than one of my own sons. Rest assured they have been told. I know that your grandfather has never acknowledged your family and that you and I have never met. Edmund’s blood runs through your veins all the same, and the man you have become would have made him proud. Your grandfather and mine shared this endeavor from the beginning and I can think of no one better with whom to share their secret. I am confident you will know what to do with it.
Yours in gratitude,
Richard Franklin Bache.
Galveston, Texas
March 13, 1847
Bones was reading over Dane’s shoulder and let out a whistle. “Dude, this is cool. A voice from the grave telling us where to look.”
Dane couldn
’t resist. “I don’t know, Bones, maybe he’s not dead. Maybe he’s from Atlantis and learned the secret to eternal life.”
“You can laugh, little man. You know who Richard Franklin Bache was, right?”
Dane didn’t answer and Marshall raised his hand. “I know who he is. Benjamin Franklin’s grandson. But I can’t make anything out of the rest of it.”
Bones said, “You mean aside from some sort of secret that Ben Franklin and Edmund Randolph had? If it was those two guys, it’s gotta have something to do with the Constitution. Anyone know what ‘recent events’ made Bache think he needed to spill the beans?”
Dane re-read the words. “Well, this was around the time Texas was preparing to join the union. I wonder if that has anything to do with it. No clue about the three and the seven hundred forty, though.”
Bones sighed. “Much as I hate to say it, I think we’re headed for some library research. Unless you want to call Jimmy again.”
“Not yet, Bones, let’s see what we can dig up first.”
“I can help you with the research.” Marshall said.
Bones raised an index finger. “First you need to track down the owner of that plane.”
Dane was tuning them out, focusing on the document. Something was there, something he couldn’t place. All at once it hit him when he read the words, “The second riddle has appeared before and will reappear.”
“It can’t be that simple. Octavius do you have a match?”
“A match? I have a lighter, but why?”
“Trust me.”
Dane flicked the Bic and started moving the flame towards the document. Bones grabbed his arm. “No offense, man, but I can’t let you do that.”
Dane shook off the huge hand. “Come on, Bones, would I burn a document like this?”
