SILVER-2 (NORRIS FILES)

by Marshall Huffman

  The following morning he returned to the building. This time he used a pair of bolt cutters to remove the lock from the fence. Once inside he replaced the lock with one he had just bought.

  Dressed in coveralls and wearing the hard hat he went around to the back of the building and removed the sheet of plywood and set it aside. He could hear movement inside. Taking out his flashlight he entered the building and shouted, "City Building Inspector. Anyone inside has one minute to clear out of here before I get the police. Move it people."

  Several people wondered out of the building. Some pushing shopping carts. He checked out the first level and found one man still sleeping. He woke him and forced him to leave as well.

  He started a floor by floor reconnaissance and found no one else in the building. He did find that someone had been using the elevator that had stopped on the third floor as a sort of house. The door was jammed open and someone had actually built some crude shelving.

  He continued up, checking out each floor. On the fifth floor he found a set of stairs leading to the roof. A chain and lock were around the push bar that opened the door. He cut the lock and went out on the roof.

  From the north side he could easily see the Convention Center. He would be too exposed up on the roof in the open. Searching around he found the door to the elevator shaft that housed the cable and pulley arrangement. He had to remove the hinge pins to get the door open.

  Once inside he found a walkway. By looking out of the vent, he found that he could see the center with no problem. It would work very well for what he needed. He estimated the distance to be around 6500 feet with no obstructions. He would have to find a way to get on the roof without having the chain off the stairway door.

  Holding the elevator room door shut was not going to be hard. He made some measurements and a quick sketch. This would do just fine. He replaced the hinge pins and went back down to the fifth floor.

  He forced the door open to the elevator shaft and decided that with the proper rigging he could get to the machinery room from there. He made a list of all he would need. This is would be his primary site.

  There were eight days to get ready. Preparations needed to be started immediately. Retracing his steps to the ground floor, he placed the plywood over the door and used several concrete nails to hold it in place.

  He retrieved his truck, removed his coveralls and drove to a Kinko's copier store. Using one of the computers, he designed the notice he wanted and made enlarged copies. When he was satisfied he returned to the hardware store and bought what he needed from his latest list.

  Unable to obtain everything he needed, he located a sporting good's store and purchased the remaining items. He returned to the building and placed the signs he had created on several places around the building and on each entrance. The signs read:

  CONDEMNED

  This building is condemned by order of

  The City of Louisville Effective immediately any person inside this building is subject to arrest.

  Demolition of this building is imminent.

  City Building Inspectors will check this building daily. Anyone caught on this

  property is subject to a fine of up to

  $ 500.00

  By order of The City of Louisville

  Building Safety Department.

  Removing the plywood door, he repeated the procedure of checking out every floor. He found no one this time. He entered the machinery room on the top of the building and went to work on the riggings. It was much cooler today than it had been, but he found himself sweating nevertheless.

  The rigging took several hours before he was ready to lower the sling he had made. Once he was satisfied, he lowered the device and went down to the fifth floor. After forcing the elevator door open he was able to pull the sling over with little trouble. He slipped into the seat he had fashioned and taking a deep breath, swung out into the elevator shaft. He quickly hauled himself up to the top.

  He lowered himself again and made sure he could work the device efficiently in both directions. It worked perfectly. He could actually lower himself to any floor if it was needed. He rigged the elevator door so that he could open it easily from inside.

  How all he had to do was get provisions, haul up the SILVER-2 and he would be ready. He replaced the door on the machinery room on top of the building. Taking an old key he had brought along, he placed it in the keyhole and broke it off. No one would be opening that door soon.

  He replaced the chain on the stairway door and the padlock. On his way down he stopped and placed several of the condemned notices on the walls. He quickly checked out the bottom floor just for good measure and left the building. Now all he had to do was wait. He decided he would move to a new motel every other day or so.

  CHA PTER THIRTY-NINE

  Harmon Wells had seen the classified advertisement as well and knew that they would be closing in on him soon. He had already closed down the house in Chantilly, Virginia, that he had been using as a base. He knew they would find it before too long. With luck, they would think that the operation had been called off.

  If Mr. Red had followed instructions and bought a Washington Post every day, he was aware of the problem as well. There was nothing he could do but wait and see if the shooter contacted him.

  He had already transferred five million dollars to Mr. Reds account. That was the deal. Even if it was called off, he would receive half of the promised amount.

  He moved into the fallback safe house and waited.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  "Sean, PJ, Ron wants to see you in his office just as soon as you can."

  "We're on our way," Sean answered.

  They made the short walk to the Chief Operations Officer's office.

  "Anything new develop?" Ron asked by way of greeting.

  "Just tracking down leads. Nothing too promising so far. Why? What have you got?"

  "The lab report from the house we tracked down. The phone had been disconnected but we got the address. The lab boys were all over it yesterday. Here is the report," Ron said handing it to PJ.

  He flipped it open and read. "Whoa," he said excitedly, “are they sure about this?"

  "As sure as they ever are about anything. Pretty damn sure."

  "What gives?" Sean wanted to know.

  "According to this, they found four sets of prints in the house. Wells, Zane Tolbert, Giovanni DeRosso and, are you ready for this?" he said, “Linden Schranz."

  "The Schranz that's the buddy of the Vice President? That Schranz?"

  "None other," Ron said.

  "Holy shit. What the hell does that mean? Is he mixed up in this?"

  "And what about the Vice President? Is he the leak to Wells?" Sean said.

  "Man, this is a real can of worms we've opened this time," PJ said.

  "So you opened the can, how do you intend to handle it?"

  "Christ, I don't know. Let me think a minute. Man oh man, this is delicate. I ain't exactly known for my delicate side."

  "No kidding," Ron said.

  "Any suggestions?" PJ asked.

  "Boy that's a switch. You asking me, instead of telling me what you’re going to do," Ron mused. "I would, if it were me, schedule an appointment with Linden Schranz and just approach it head on but with some tact. There could well be a reason he went to see Wells. I can't think of an explanation he could come up with, but you never know. Maybe it was legitimate."

  "Sure, and pigs can fly."

  "It would explain a hell of a lot. He was around in the 60's too. It's got be the missing link we have been overlooking. What do you think Sean?" PJ asked.

  "You could be right. It would explain how Wells got the travel plans of the President. I was voting for Wainright as the accomplice, but it could be Schranz just as well. No matter what, Ron's right, we have to go see him. I'll do the talking if that would be better."

  "Yes, that makes sense to me. Can you live with that PJ?"

  "Hey, it's all yours. I'll just be there a
s backup."

  "Mr. Neilson, can you set up the appointment for us? I doubt if he would give us the time of the day if we called."

  "I'll handle it. You just be ready to go."

  They went back to their office and did some more shadow chasing on the few meager leads they had. Ron called to tell them that Linden Schranz would see them at 3:00 P.M.

  They checked out a car, ate a late lunch, and headed to Schranz's office. They arrived ten minutes early.

  "We're here to see Mr. Schranz," Sean said to the receptionist.

  "Yes. Have a seat gentlemen. He is expecting you. He should be off the phone any minute now. I'll tell him you're here," she said pleasantly.

  They waited and looked at the old magazines that were on the rack.

  "Can I get you gentlemen something to drink?"

  "Coffee would be great," Sean said.

  "A Diet Coke, if you have one," PJ added.

  She returned in a few minutes with their drinks. She handed Sean the coffee and a Diet Pepsi to PJ. They thanked her. Sean was quite content with his coffee but PJ didn't bother to open his. It was Pepsi. Diet Coke and Diet Pepsi was not the same thing in his mind. A few minutes later the intercom buzzed.

  "Mr. Schranz will see you now, gentlemen," she announced. She showed them into his office.

  The room was opulent, to say the least. Pictures covered almost every inch of the walls. Most were of Schranz with famous people from all over the world. There was a surprising number of him with show business celebrates. He was indeed a high roller.

  "Good day gentlemen. I'm Linden Schranz. I assume your Matts and Parker."

  "Yes sir. That's Paul Matts and I'm Sean Parker,"

  "Gentlemen, I am extremely busy. I’m only doing this out of respect for Ron Neilson. It you will just tell me what's on your mind I would appreciate it," Linden said.

  "Well sir, does the name Harmon Wells mean anything to you?"

  Linden never flinched.

  "Wells. Harmon Wells. I recall that name from some place, but I'll be damned if I can remember where. Why?"

  "We believe that he is mixed up in a plot to assassinate the President of The United States."

  "Hum. Is that something new? I mean, doesn't the Presidents get lot so threats? It goes with the job."

  "This isn't your regular threat. We know that Harmon Wells was the master mind, or fixer as he calls himself, of one of the world’s great Presidents, John Kennedy."

  "That Wells. Yes. Yes. I knew I had heard the name before. His name was a hot buzz word in the late 60's. Goodness gracious. And you think he is out to kill the current President?"

  "Well, without going into too much detail, yes we do. We have reason to believe he is back in the country and on a mission."

  "How do you know this for real? Did you capture this guy?"

  "No, nothing so simple I'm afraid. We did manage to bag his right hand man, Zane Tolbert. Does that name mean anything to you?"

  "Not really. I remember some of the details but that was a long time ago. I've slept since then."

  "We convinced Tolbert to give us what he knew. Unfortunately it wasn't all we would like to have. We need more."

  "So why come to me? I'm sure whatever I knew about Wells in the 60's would be of little value to you today. If I ever knew anything important in the first place."

  "Actually, we think you may be able to help more than you know. Do you know where 100 Springhill Lane is?" Sean asked.

  "I don't believe so. Why?"

  "Well sir, you should. You were there fairly recently."

  "Springhill Lane. I don't think so. What makes you so sure?"

  "We lifted your prints off the coffee table in that house."

  "Impossible. Where in the hell is Springhill?"

  "Chantilly, Virginia."

  "Chantilly? Wait a minute. Why didn't you say so? Chantilly. Sure. I looked at a house that was for sale in Chantilly. The address didn't ring a bell. I'm looking for a new place with a little more privacy. I found out about this place, called and made an appointment to look it over. Nice house. A little further out than I would like, but a great place. Reasonable price too."

  PJ couldn't stand it any longer. He could only be polite for so long.

  "Are you trying to sit there and tell us that you went to Chantilly to look at that very house?"

  "Like I said, I'm not sure of the exact address, but yes, I went to Chantilly to look at a house."

  "Who owned the house, Mr. Schranz?" Sean said quickly trying to keep PJ from getting on a roll.

  "Hell I don't remember the name. I think I have it in my appointment book. Just a second," he said flipping through pages.

  "Yes, here it is. February 4th, 6:00 P.M., 100 Springhill Lane, Chantilly. Mr. Adam Johnson."

  "And Mr. Johnson met you there to show you the house?"

  "Yes he did. He said something about leaving the country and was most anxious to sell the place. I took a tour through the place and walked around the grounds. It was rather dark so I can't really tell you much about the place. What does this have to do with this Wells guy?"

  "He is, or I should say, was, the man staying in that house."

  "Oh horse feathers. I met a Mr. Johnson there, not Harmon Wells."

  "How do you know?"

  "Well, I guess I don't really."

  "What did he look like? You do remember that don't you?" PJ interjected.

  "Sort of. Six feet two or three, gray hair, mustache. Very distinguished looking."

  "Would you know him if you saw a picture?"

  "I think so."

  PJ handed a picture to him. Sean and PJ were watching him for any reaction. They were disappointed.

  "No. This is definitely not the man I met. Sorry," he said returning the picture.

  "Actually it's Zane Tolbert. We were hoping you could recognize him."

  "Can't help you gentlemen. Never saw the man in my life."

  "You're a good friend of the Vice President aren't you?" PJ asked.

  "I'm good friends with a great many people in this town. Robert Henderson happens to be one of them. Does that answer your question?"

  "Do you get to see him very often?"

  "When I need to. Why?"

  "Do you ever discuss the Presidents plans? You know, travel and such?"

  "Mr. Matts I'm not sure I am following you, and I'm not sure that I want to. What is it exactly you want to know?"

  "Someone supplied Wells with the exact travel plans of the President. That is very hard information to come by. I guess I’m asking, to be perfectly blunt, did you have anything to do with it?"

  Schranz sat there with an amused look on his face for a second.

  "Look at the walls gentlemen. Really look at them. What do you see? Famous people? No. What you see is power. I have all the power I will ever need. I don't need to go around encouraging people to kill Presidents, or anyone else for that matter. Mr. Matts, Ron warned me that you were somewhat brisk and unorthodox in you manners but he seems to have understated your talent. I have told you that I don't know Harmon Wells, and why I was in Chantilly. That is all I intend to tell you further, unless you ask a reasonable question."

  "I did ask you a question. Did you give the information to Wells or Tolbert? Don't bullshit us Schranz. I want the truth."

  "I believe I have already given you the answer. Now gentlemen if you will excuse me. This meeting is over; I have a lot of work to do."

  "This meeting is definitely not over Schranz. I intend to get the truth from you. I'm not leaving without it."

  Schranz had that amused look again. "Ah, to be young and stupid again. Nothing like moving into the big league, is there boys? We'll Mr. Matts, I see you have stepped up to the plate, let’s see who has the most on the ball shall we?" he said picking up the phone and dialing a number from his card file.

  "Ron Neilson, Linden Schranz calling. No young lady, I will not hold. You get him on the phone now. I don't care if he is in the john with his wi
ng-wang in his hand. I want to speak to him."

  "Ron, Linden here. 'm afraid we have a problem. Yes, it's Matts. Obviously. Quite the case of alligator mouth overloading his hummingbird ass I'm afraid. No, it won't do at all. I do not want to hear an apology from you. Yes, I quite understand. Certainly," he said holding the phone out to PJ, "I do believe he has something to say to you."

  "Ron, I...."

  "Yes. Yes. Alright. Yes. Yes. Yes sir," was all PJ could get in.

  He handed the receiver to Schranz.

  "I'm sorry sir. I was rude and out of line. I apologize."

  "Oh, no harm done really. Take it for what it is. A good lesson on the golden rule. He with the gold, rules. I have it Mr. Matts. You do not. I highly recommend that you engage your brain before your mouth. How gentlemen, get the hell out of my office, and if either of you ever show your face again, I will see to it that you are taken out and shot. If you think I'm kidding, just try me. Now, get out of my sight."

  PJ and Sean hurried out of the office.

  “PJ are you on self-destruct or something? What in the hell came over you? You weren't even supposed to talk."

  "I know. I know. Something about those kinds of guys just sets me off. So proper, and all the time lying through their teeth. I hate that shit man. Too much frickin’ money."

  "Well, you really screwed up this time. Neilson is going to have your ass when we get back. I'll probably get my ass chewed as well. He sure the hell knows Johnson. I saw them together in one of the pictures."

  "Shit. That prick was lying. I can feel it. He is good, but he was lying just the same."

  They drove back to OPS3. They were not in a hurry. When they entered the building Ron was waiting for them. Even the security guards didn't ask for identification.

  "To my office," he said, as he turned and entered the elevator. Nothing was said during the ride.

  "Parker, take a hike. I want to see Matts alone."