“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And what plea do you wish to enter?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
Since you are a business owner in Manhattan, and since you have no prior criminal record, your attorney has asked that you be released on your own recognizance. I find that unsatisfactory considering the gravity of the crime with which you are charged. Mr. District Attorney, do you have any objection to bail of one hundred thousand dollars?”
The opposing counsel stood. “That’s satisfactory to the State, Your Honor.”
The Judge then said, “Bail is therefore set at one hundred thousand dollars. If you post bail you are ordered to reappear on May 20th for a preliminary hearing. You must also surrender your passport until then.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Nicole stood with Brian as the detective rejoined him.
“Where do you stand on bail?” Detective Calvin asked Nicole.
“We’ll meet the bondsman in the hall. I paged him while the Judge was talking to Brian.”
Brian whispered to Nicole, “I can put up a hundred thousand dollars myself if you give me a couple of hours.”
“You don’t have a couple of hours. You’re charged with felony assault. You have to stay in jail until bond is posted. I know you can do it yourself but it’s just easier right now to use a bondsman. It’s going to cost you ten grand but I think you’d spend that right now to walk free and not spend a single second in a cell.” She didn’t wait for his response. Pushing through the doors into the hall, she looked around and found the man she was searching for. She raised her hand in a wave and a man in a gray suit walked toward her.
“Stay here for a sec, Brian,” she said. Detective Calvin moved closer to Brian as they stood out of the way of the human traffic moving through the hallway. She spoke to the bondsman who finally nodded and walked away.
Nicole looked at the detective. “He’s posting Brian’s bail now. If you don’t mind, can we walk into the Court Clerk’s office and get this finished?”
“Sounds good to me. I have other people to catch, you know.” He smiled but neither of them returned it.
It took only a short time before bail had been posted. The detective read the paperwork the Court Clerk’s office submitted then asked Brian to turn around. He unlocked the handcuffs and said, “OK, you’re free to go. I’ll see you in court, as they say.” He walked toward the elevators and entered the first open car.
They waited for a different elevator car. “How in the hell did you get bail so fast?” he said to Nicole as they rode down.
“I would hope by now you’d think I know how to do my job. Every white-collar client I bring here wants to be out fast. My firm has these bail bondsmen on retainer and they jump through hoops when we call them. I texted this one last night before I went to bed and told him to be on alert and ready to go if I paged him this afternoon.
“The biggest fear to a bail bondsman is whether his prisoner might disappear and leave him having to pay the bail. When bondsmen deal with Carter and Wells they know they can’t lose. The firm guarantees the bail bond. Now we turn right around and collect the entire amount from you and put it in an escrow account. Once everything is settled and bail’s no longer required, we give your money back. Simple, huh? We get great service because Carter and Wells guarantees payment if you skip town. The bondsman is happy because he’s making a fee with no risk. You’re happy because you’re out of jail. I’m happy because you’re happy.”
Chapter Fifteen
The sedan dropped Brian and Nicole at the gallery. Jason Hardesty, the newer of Brian’s assistants, was with a client as they walked through the showroom to Brian’s office. In a few minutes they heard the soft ding of the front door and then Jason stuck his head around the corner.
“Have you gotten an update on Collette?” he asked.
“I called early this morning and they said they couldn’t give me any information.”
“Her father called here for you. I told him you hadn’t arrived yet. He said she’s out of danger but still asleep. They say she’s not in a coma but she had a hard blow to her head. I…I guess you know about that, though,” Jason stammered for a moment as if he’d said something wrong. “Mr. Sadler, I want you to know…I, uh, both Collette’s father and I don’t believe you were involved. That would just be crazy. So if there is anything I can do to help you, and Collette too of course, just ask.” He looked embarrassed and was saved by the bell, literally, as the front chime softly rang. “I’ll be up front,” he said, making a quick exit to see who had rung the bell.
“That was awkward,” Nicole commented.
“It sure was. I wonder if Collette’s father really believes I have no involvement. It’s pretty hard to refute at the moment.”
“Show me the video, Brian.”
Nicole asked him to rerun it several times and she paused frequently to look closely at one frame, then another. She watched the man come into the gallery, then rewound and watched it again, over and over.
“That’s not you.”
“Well thanks for your vote of confidence. But you have to admit it looks like me.”
“It does, but he doesn’t have the same gait as you do. That’s probably not enough to convince a judge, but it does allow us to begin picking at the rest of this to see if there are other things that corroborate my thinking. Let’s think for a minute of every way possible for someone to look exactly like someone else. Give me some ideas – way out of the box is fine – anything you can come up with.” She took a yellow legal pad from Brian’s desk and pulled a Mont Blanc pen from her inside jacket pocket.
Brian thought for a moment and said, “OK, it could be my twin brother.”
“Which you don’t have, but some people believe that somewhere in the world every person has a twin.” She wrote it down.
“The guy has a passing resemblance to me at a distance but up close he’s completely different.”
“That might fly. He’d have to look pretty similar though. Collette let him in and didn’t appear afraid of him even when he was fairly close to her.”
“The guy is wearing a latex mask.”
“Now that’s a possibility. The market for that kind of stuff is pretty specialized, mostly in the spy world, but there are people who for a price can make a latex mask from a photo. It might not stand up to inspection a foot away from a close friend but I hear they’re pretty good even a short distance away.” She jotted a note.
“Any other ideas?”
“Not at the moment.”
“OK, next topic. What did he want so badly, how did he know you had it, and what’ll happen next, since it appears he didn’t get it?”
There was no progress as they considered how and why this all happened. They reviewed the video another time. The man’s clothes were similar to Brian’s but that would have been easy to duplicate. Brian wore dark pinstripes or solids every single day, with a muted tie and a white shirt. When it was cool he wore a trenchcoat like a million other New Yorkers. That’s what Brian had had on yesterday and what the man in the video had on too, except it looked as though he wasn’t wearing a tie. The resemblance to Brian was close but not perfect. But as Nicole said, it had been good enough for Collette to buzz him in.
Brian suggested they run up to the hospital to see if they could find out anything about Collette. They caught a cab to Lenox Hill Hospital and got her room number at the front desk. There was a “No Visitors” sign taped to her door, so they stood in the hall. In a few minutes a lady who appeared to be in her fifties or sixties came out. She looked tired but her facial features showed she was unmistakably related to Collette.
“Excuse me. Are you Mrs. Conning?”
“You’re Brian Sadler, aren’t you?” She seemed friendly enough, especially for a person who’s daughter’s attacker might be standing in front of her.
“Yes. I hope you don’t mind my coming here. Mrs. Conning, I had nothing to do with Collette’s injuries. This
is my friend and my attorney, Nicole Farber. We’re doing everything we can to figure out what happened.”
Nicole shook the lady’s hand. “I’m so sorry about your daughter. How are things going?”
“She’s been awake off and on but her short term memory seems to be gone. The doctor says shock can do that to a person. Her father and I can only hope and pray she’ll recover and be the person she was. The doctor says the blow to her head was severe and that she likely suffered a concussion.”
Mrs. Conning looked at Brian intently. “She has enjoyed working with you more than anything else she’s ever done. She considers you a fair, honest and exemplary employer and above that, a friend. She goes on about you every time we’re together. She absolutely loves everything about you and her job at Bijan. For now I’m choosing to believe you had nothing to do with this attack. Once Collette regains her memory hopefully she can cast some light on this whole thing.”
“Please let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Nicole said.
“Sounds like you both have plenty of things to work on at the moment. I hear the video shows that you were there. I don’t understand that.”
Brian started to respond – Nicole held up her hand to him. “Unfortunately Brian can’t really say anything at this point; I hope you understand. All I can tell you is that he was not there. Whoever it was, he did a good job of convincing Collette to let him in. We need to figure out what he was after. Concentrate on taking care of your daughter; I know she’ll be in good hands with you and her father here. Please contact Brian if she wakes up and feels that it would be OK for us to see her. God bless your family, Mrs. Conning.”
Part Two
Chapter One
Three months later
Within a month after the attack Collette Conning had made almost a complete recovery. She returned to the gallery, eager to participate in the Aztec Commission sale. She and her parents conferred with the District Attorney and expressed their deep feelings that Brian Sadler could never have been a part of the attack. In fact it made no sense – he had full access to the gallery, its vault and the items inside – so motive was impossible to establish as far as Brian’s charges were concerned. The Connings refused to support the State’s action against Brian. Without the victim to testify, the District Attorney’s office dropped the charges in a procedure known as nolle prosequi, which gave the state the option to re-file in the future if evidence warranted. The case remained open and unsolved and Brian hoped there would be an answer someday to explain what happened.
The Aztec Commission broadcast on History was a resounding success. Brian went to Mexico City for a total of sixteen days over several trips. He and Dr. Nunez, the archaeologist from the Museum of Antiquities in Mexico City, narrated the show, with voiceovers when the producers inserted video and stills of Tenochtitlan, the ancient Aztec capital where the artifacts were found. Brian thought adding the well-known professor to the broadcast was a valuable decision. He also praised the network’s producer for his editing and presentation of the broadcast.
As Antiques Roadshow appraisers do, Dr. Nunez and Brian had stood next to each artifact in turn. The archaeologist gave a brief narrative as to what was known – the item’s history, provenance, rarity and other interesting details. Brian then added the estimate of the price each of the ancient items would bring at auction. As the show progressed each value was added to a large ticker and the total recalculated. In a dramatic climax, Brian disclosed the final auction estimate at more than eight million dollars.
The show aired on a Sunday night at nine pm and ranked among the most watched documentaries ever. Two weeks later Bijan Rarities held the auction itself, simulcast from three sites so the attendees in each venue could see all bidders and each item up for bid. Brian was on site in New York, his assistants Collette and Jason were at the new Bijan gallery in London, and Dr. Nunez was in Mexico City at Tenochtitlan, where the artifacts were found. There were far more bidders than they’d anticipated, due in no small part to the publicity Bijan Rarities had generated through the History documentary.
The sale was a huge success, exceeding Brian’s estimate and grossing slightly over ten million dollars. The gallery’s percentage was almost a million dollars, but even better was the immeasurable publicity from the television broadcast. The New York Post interviewed the couple that had consigned the Tenochtitlan artifacts for sale. They had high praise for the gallery and its illustrious owner, Brian Sadler.
As Brian spent countless hours on pre-production work for the show and auction, he often thought of Captain Jack Borland. Shortly after they met, Brian had told Arthur although he was committed for these three months, they should talk afterwards. If Jack were still missing Brian promised to help.
Brian had split up the items Arthur left with him. He delivered the box itself to one expert and a gold sheet to each of two others. He guarded their background and provenance carefully. If the gold sheets were truly Mayan they were priceless. Further, the idea that they somehow turned up in Oklahoma added an element of mystery to the story. Brian had to be cautious not to betray Arthur Borland’s confidence or even to potentially endanger Jack Borland, if he were still alive.
The box went to the director of Mesoamerican studies at Columbia University. The educator had spent his adult life studying the Maya society. He told Brian it was likely the item was Mayan. He consulted several reference books and finally showed Brian a picture. It showed a similar box found in Palenque, Mexico at the Temple of the Inscriptions.
The scholar said, “It’s impossible to say with certainty if your box is Mayan, but we could certainly carbon date it and at least confirm the period from which it comes.”
A couple of days later he took one of the gold sheets to the prestigious Bryant Park Museum of Ancient History, having called his friend Anthony Fuselman, who had recently become Assistant Curator for Pre-Columbian Civilizations. Fuselman held a doctorate in archaeology and specialized in ancient artifacts. Brian had read his thesis on the writings of the Aztec and Maya civilizations with an emphasis on whether they came from similar root languages. He was a recognized expert in the symbology used by both.
Fuselman took one look at the sheet and said, “This is incredible. Where did you get this?”
“I’m sorry but at the moment I’m under strict confidentiality with a client and I can’t tell you anything. Hopefully you can still help me. Is it possible that the writing shown here is sixteenth century Mayan?”
“And my payment for this project is…what?” he smiled at Brian. “When are you going to have me be an expert on one of those television shows you produce? I could have been famous by now if I’d been your Aztec go-to guy!”
Brian smiled, knowing the man was half-kidding. He explained that Dr. Nunez’ presence on the show was a capitulation to the Mexican government to allow Brian to remove the artifacts from their country.
“OK, I get it. I’m mostly kidding. Dr. Nunez did a great job and he was the right guy for that production. Just don’t forget your old friend Anthony and the Bryant Park Museum over here, ready to help in exchange for a little positive press now and then!”
They got down to business. Fuselman told Brian the gold sheet might or might not be authentic – provenance would be critical for that determination. Since the sheet had been removed from where it was found, provenance could never be firmly established.
He added optimistically, “That said, the writing and symbols are perfectly correct for Mayan civilization in the 1500s. Do you want to know what it says?”
Although a translation wasn’t critical, Brian listened as Dr. Fuselman explained that the sheet was one of a series. It was the continuation of a story of conquest of one Mayan city by another. “I see no names either of cities or people, but I feel very comfortable telling you this all fits. Unless someone went to a hell of a lot of trouble to create a fake, even going so far as to use a real gold sheet, I’d say this is authentic.”
That wa
s good news. Now Brian scanned a portion of the letter from the Governor of Guatemala, Pedro de Alvarado, to King Charles V of Spain. According to Arthur the letter itself had apparently never been sent. Captain Jack had copied the original during his visit to the archives in Seville, Spain. Brian’s scan omitted enough of the verbiage to mask its meaning but it was still sufficiently long to give a flavor of the writing itself.
He emailed the scan to the Institute for Mesoamerican Studies at the University of Mexico. Since Brian didn’t have a personal relationship with anyone who could authenticate Spanish letters, he had called a couple of colleagues in London who had dealt in similar items. He got the same name from both, a professor named Moreno. Brian asked him if the words appeared consistent with how the letter would have been crafted and written in 1540.
Soon Brian received his response – the letter’s sentence structure, words and other nuances were identical to thousands sent from the colonies to Spain in the sixteenth century. The archives in Seville and Mexico were full of examples that perfectly matched Alvarado’s letter.
Now Brian was convinced he was dealing with real Mayan artifacts and a letter from the 1500s.
Brian called Arthur, told him the items had passed authentication and arranged to meet him the next week when Brian planned to be in London. Over lunch at The Savoy Grill, Brian handed the box and its contents back.
From prior conversations Brian knew Arthur had heard nothing more about Captain Jack. He said, “I’ve gotten things arranged so I can take a couple of weeks off very soon. I’m sorry it’s taken so long but now I’m happy to help if I can.”
“I’m absolutely convinced you can help me figure out this enigma. There’s only one hitch. I wanted to go with you but my mother has fallen ill. She’s getting old and is very frail. As you can imagine, my father’s disappearance has only exacerbated her failing health. Now she’s constantly nervous and jittery. There are no children but me and I can’t leave her at this point.” He explained that in-home care was too expensive so he and his wife were looking after his mother and staying at the family’s manor house outside of London.
Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries BoxSet Page 32
