Tim shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. Answer my question.”
“I met Richemartel on a trip to Paris. Met him in a bar, actually, a tourist trap. We struck up a conversation and he invited me to join him for dinner. He said he was an investment banker and consulted with Jim Sapphire. I'd finished my business and had a plane ticket for home the next day. So I accepted.”
“And that was normal, a mere coincidence? Nothing unusual?”
“I had no reason to be suspicious. I still don't. He asked me to listen to a proposal from the man he had planned to meet for dinner. That was Hartmann. I listened to his idea. I looked at his projections, and when dinner ended, I gave Hartmann my card, never expecting to see or hear from him again. Before I left, Richemartel asked my opinion. I told him that if the program could do what Hartmann said, it would revolutionize internet security, not to mention putting a lot of criminals away for a long time.”
“That became NDC. What happened next?”
“He asked me if I thought Jim would agree to be a test site. He knew of a firm that hired the best hackers in the world to find security breaches. If Sapphire would agree, he'd have this firm attack and we could find out immediately if the system worked. I told him I would ask. I did and it worked. Jonathan Hartmann became an instant success. Not bad for a thirty-seven year old.” He glanced at Fritz.
“Then what?”
“I bought a bunch of NDC stock. I did a little business with Hartmann, mostly insurance, a little investing. Never saw Richemartel after that dinner, only a couple of phone calls.”
“Did you ever hear about the Caballeros?”
“Only from Linda and him.” Fritz started to say something, but the president pushed him back like a parent holding a child in the car when the brakes are put on hard. Arm straight out.
“Does the name Thomas Richter mean anything?”
“No.”
“How about Thomas Koppler?”
“Thomas Koppler is a Wall Street myth. A compilation of financial supermen. He's no more real than unicorns.”
“Strange, then, because you have seen a unicorn. Richemartel, Richter and Koppler are the same man.”
Tim looked at the president as if he were crazy. “No. You're kidding.”
“And the man responsible for Linda's kidnapping and torture is Thomas Koppler, alias Richemartel.”
Tim sat back, eyes glued to the president, and shook his head. The president watched him for any sign he might be lying.
“You're not serious,” Tim said. “I don't believe that. Why would he? He's rich enough to buy anything.”
Fritz leaned forward again, but the president grabbed his arm. “Tim, Koppler is real. He's the man behind the attempts to take down the government, including the Election Day power crash. We have evidence to show he had planned a coup. Each step, something went wrong. In the end, he seems to have manipulated the outcome of the election. He went after Linda to find out how to get to Fritz. He'd met you and Sapphire, and when Sapphire told him that you knew about the portal, he found the weak link to get to me. You're responsible for your daughter's abduction. Fritz used the portal and saved her. And he saved me once again, this time from a savage attack. Incidentally, Fritz's actions almost cost him his life. He still has the stitches, over one hundred across his abdomen.”
“I didn't believe it when Joe, he's my son, told me.”
“I've met Joe. And Emily. Well, Fritz, what do you say?”
He eyeballed his father-in-law with his arrogance diminished, not gone, but an improvement. His face gaunt from lack of sleep and fear of his surroundings, he posed no threat. Fritz looked him over, but the orange jumpsuit forced the decision. He didn't belong in jail.
“Let him go.”
The president quickly concluded their visit. “Tomorrow morning, you will be released, and all charges will be dropped. The money deposited in your account has been frozen. We'll figure that out later.” The president stood up. “Let's go, Fritz.”
As they walked across the street, Fritz said, “I had no idea. Have you told Linda?”
“I haven't said a thing to her. Joe and Emily told her about Sapphire and the portal. Agent McConnell stayed in the room when they visited. He told me. His meeting with Hartmann we picked out from his business records. I guessed at the rest. Now, let's go home.”
* * *
ASHLEY SAT ACROSS from Fritz. The clutter of the kitchen table illustrated how little attention Fritz was paying to his basic maintenance. Ashley pulled the piles of mail into a stack, noticing bills to be paid.
“Do you see what's here? Bills, the dishes? The place is a mess. Reminds me of me. Before Jane. You really should come with me for Thanksgiving.” Ashley began to sort through the mail.
“Leave it alone. I'll be fine. I'll have time to clean up.”
“You have two letters from the president here.”
“I saw them.”
“You want me to open them?”
“I'll do it next week.”
“Fritz, you have to shake this off. You're alive and you have to get back to work. Things are going to work out.”
“Yeah, right. While you're in Virginia, leave me your desk key. Tony said he'll be around, so maybe I'll go somewhere.”
“Sure, but if you're using the portal, why not come to Jane's, at least for a little while. You'll get a kick out of her mom, and her dad is really into the Civil War.”
“I'll think about it. I have her number. I'll call first.”
“I'm going home now. I'll tell her you might stop by.”
Fritz said good night and continued to sit. He thumbed through the letters, but tossed them back on the counter. The one he'd hoped to see wasn't in the stack. But at least Ash would make his plan easier. He went to his desk and brought his list and computer to the kitchen.
“So where do I want to go?” he said. He'd made a long list. “I can go anywhere with nobody to stop me.” When he glanced at Robert E. Lee at the top, he got up and found another book. “I can go see General Longstreet.” One last thing to do, he filled the coffeemaker and went to bed.
* * *
TIM MILLER WALKED in the front door just before noon on Wednesday. The president had arranged a ride, so he surprised Emily when he walked in. TJ crawled around the corner and stopped short when he saw Tim. “Da,” he said. Linda came in behind and picked him up.
“No TJ, that's grandpa.” When TJ said “Da” again, Linda said, “Da's not here, TJ.”
“He was,” said Tim. “Last night, he and the president came to see me. The president dropped the charges.”
“Well, we're glad you're home, Daddy.”
“How's Fritz?” Emily asked.
He shrugged. “The president didn't let him talk. He looks the same.”
“Did he ask about me?” Linda asked.
“Not a word.” Tim looked out the window avoiding eye contact. The whole story would take her time to get out, but Emily had years of experience in making him talk. His answer had undone in one breath all her work to change Linda's mind. “I'm a little tired, but I need to go to the office for a while.”
“It's nice to see you,” Emily said. “Come visit again. Oh, and Tim, when you come back, will you bring me a statement for my personal account?”
“Why?”
“It's my money, isn't it?”
“Of course.”
“Then it's none of your business.” Tim grinned, assuming she was teasing. Her scowl told him otherwise.
* * *
CLASSES ENDED at noon. Ashley had told Fritz he had one trip he wanted to make before he left for Virginia. He picked Fritz up and they waited until no cars remained in the parking lot before calling Tony. Prior to going in, Fritz told Ashley to walk around and make sure George had left.
Tony asked, “Where are you going?”
“Paris. He wants to be sure he can set the paperclip in the right place.”
“What's in Paris
?”
“The first stop on his honeymoon.”
* * *
“HEMINGWAY, WE have guests,” Sylvia Beach called out.
“Who?” came a recognizable voice from a hidden corner.
“Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Russell.” A chair scraped, followed by running footsteps.
“So, you've come back. Needed an injection of real culture?”
“Good to see you both again,” said Ashley. “I've come to ask a favor.”
“You want a favor? From us?” Beach asked.
“I'm getting married and I'd like to come here and have her meet you.”
Hemingway said, “That's as good a reason for a party as any. We'll gather the whole gang. When?”
“In about three weeks, my time. I'll stop back and give you a little notice.”
“Ash, you won't be able to stay for long.”
“Don't be a spoil sport, Russell. We can put a party together in an hour.”
“If we have an hour's notice,” she said.
“We'll find a way, Sylvia. Now what do we get in return?”
After a quick glance at Fritz, Ashley said, “How about a look at the twenty-first century?”
“Really? When? Could we go now?” Hemingway's excitement indicated a story that had begun to germinate and flashed from his dark brown eyes.
Fritz said, “Look, you need to understand how risky this is. Our history tells your story. You're our past. But you can change our present and future. We have no inkling of what that would be.”
“We accept your admonition,” said Beach. “We will follow your directions.”
“Sure, sure. Let's go now,” said Hemingway. “Then we can take our friends for a drink.”
In the same spot as their previous visit, the portal flickered under the awning next door. Fritz went first and Ashley last.
“My God, it's real,” said the astonished author.
While they glanced at their surroundings, Ashley said, “Follow me,” and he led them to the trophy case. The banner and trophies proved they had indeed traveled to 2016. A congratulatory message hung on the wall behind, reading “Riverboro High School Girls Soccer Team, Division 3 Champs, 2016.”
“Well this is too elaborate to be a prank. I like your style, Gilbert.”
“Let me show you my classroom,” said Ashley. Tony sat, once again reading while he awaited their return. When Ashley introduced him, Hemingway snatched the book away.
“Sylvia, look at this.”
She read the description aloud. “ 'The Old Man and the Sea, winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the Nobel Prize for Literature. Perhaps Hemingway's greatest work.' Here's a picture. You are a handsome old devil.” She handed the book back, and he looked at his picture.
“May I keep this?”
“Sure,” Tony said, glancing at Fritz.
Fritz said, “Mr. Hemingway, this book was, will be, published in 1951. You know now that you wrote it, but if you take it, you might never write it. It would be better if you left it here.”
“Or I might just copy it. It's already good, so why write it again. Maybe if I don't take it, I'll never write it.”
“And we'll never find out if we've changed your future,” said Fritz. “Or ours.”
A quick tour of Ashley's classroom and an explanation of the portal's operation took another ten minutes. Before leaving, both visitors scanned Ashley's bookcase, which contained a paperback copy of “Ulysses.”
“We'll have to tell Mr. Joyce. He'll probably have some dour comment,” Hemingway quipped.
“He won't believe us,” said Beach.
“You, and we, might be better off if you don't tell him,” said Fritz. “We've already seen changes when we disturb the past.”
Hemingway took a chair. “Like what?”
Fritz looked from the author to Ashley and back. “We visited William Shakespeare. He hadn't found the name for a play. We gave it to him.”
Hemingway said, “I may write a story about that. Which one?”
“Romeo and Juliet,” Ashley said. “We went with another teacher. She told him and that's changed history. If he'd come up with something like Jack and Marion, or Ernie and Sylvia, Shakespeare might never be famous.”
“You can see the risk,” Fritz added, then waited to see if his warning had penetrated. “You've been given a gift. Insight into what's to come. Please don't take it lightly.”
Hearing him and seeing the serious look on his face, Sylvia Beach said, “I hope we'll see you again soon when we can discuss and understand what this means to us. We will protect your secret. Come, Hemingway. Home.”
Chapter 13
ASHLEY ASKED ONCE more if Fritz would come with him. Fritz again declined and asked for the desk key.
“Ash, drive carefully. You have a long trip ahead. Maybe you should go tomorrow. The roads are going to be crowded.” Fritz rubbed his neck, remembering his crash exactly a year ago.
“I'll stop if I get tired. You should use the portal to get to Jane's.” As Ashley drove off, Fritz waved, glad that he could proceed without interference.
Thanksgiving. Again. Fritz collected his list and his books. The rest he'd already loaded in the car. Anxious to unload before curious eyes spotted him, he slid the generator down planks to a dolly braced at the curb, and with a lever he'd made, pulled the generator up. With wheels to help, he pulled the dolly through the door and left it by Ashley's classroom. Two more trips provided the wires he needed and his books, which he stacked on the floor.
He twisted the doorknob, but Ashley had locked it and he hadn't asked for the room key. With a hammer from the toolbox, he broke the window, wrapped his arm with his coat, and reached through to open the door. Using the generator as a doorstop, he retrieved one of the boards and laid it across the threshold. He moved his car behind the school, away from direct sight from the street, stuck the key above the visor, and left it unlocked.
Assured of no disturbances, he attached the electrical cord to the doorknob, securing it in place with the still-moist clay and plugged the cord into the generator. All that remained to do was turn it on.
He went to his classroom and grabbed a handful of paperclips, took a deep breath, and patted his desk affectionately. He carried the books to Ash's desk, and mapped his trip. First, he would peek in and leave, determining the various entry points. Rather than laying the books flat, he stood them on edge with the paperclips touching the desk. After a quick view, he would have time to visit a couple of places before attempting his mission.
Once he had prepared his itinerary, he called Tony. He said that Ashley had been in an accident and he needed to get to Jane's. “I hate to bother you. I'll be at the school in a couple of minutes.”
“Hang on.” Fritz could hear him tell Nat, who said to hurry up. “We'll see you as soon as we can. We'll be leaving inside ten minutes.”
“Tony, call the planes. I'll have everything ready when you get here.”
Fritz turned on the generator. The planes would be in place before Tony arrived. He checked his watch and tapped the doorknob every couple of minutes. He had a small window of time once the portal opened. Nat would be worried about Ashley, and would make sure Tony hurried.
From the first call, the planes took less than ten minutes to set the portal working. At eight minutes, Fritz grabbed the doorknob, received a jolt, twisted and pulled. In front of him were sand dunes, and clouds speeding by on the brisk wind. He closed the door. Six more times, he did the same, viewing each location, and when he opened it the next time, he walked in.
* * *
HIS PHONE BUZZED in his pocket. “Hi, Linda,” said Ashley. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Hi Ash. You too. Is Fritz with you?”
“No. I'm at Jane's parents' house. He didn't want to come.”
“He's not answering his phone.”
“He probably turned it off. Maybe he forgot it. Or maybe he doesn't want to talk to you.”
His comment stung and she recoi
led from his anger. “I wanted to talk to him, and tell him I'm sorry. I just now found out everything that's happened. Fritz even got my father out of jail.”
“Linda, I'll be home on Sunday. If I hear from him, I'll tell him you called.”
“Ash, tell him I'd like to come home.” Ashley turned to Jane, a grin rising up his face.
“I'll tell him. We'll all be glad to see you.”
* * *
TONY AND NATALIE pulled up to the door, no other car visible. She headed straight to the school door and pulled. “It's locked.”
“He's not here.”
She peered in and started to bang. Tony joined her. Shading her eyes from the reflection, she said, “He's somewhere inside. Look, a generator.”
“I've got to call somebody. This can't be good.”
“Call Ash. Maybe he'll know.”
“I should call the president.”
“Call Ash first.”
Standing at the door, the wind gusting and storm clouds filling the sky, Tony called, but Nat pulled the phone away. “Ashley, where did Fritz go?”
“Hi Nat, and Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”
“Don't be a wise-ass. Fritz went into the portal.”
“He said he might use the portal over the weekend.”
“He called Tony to get the planes up. He said you were in a car accident. He has his own generator hooked up.”
“Give me that,” Tony said, and snatched the phone from her. “Ash, I can't keep the planes up indefinitely and I can't get into the school. Do you have any suggestions? If the planes leave, he'll be stuck.” For a moment, the silence deafened. “Ashley?”
“I'm thinking. How long before the planes leave?”
“If the president okays it, they'll stay for a while. But I'll have to call him. And we can't just stand out here. I need to get inside and check the generator.”
“I'll call George. You call the president. I'll call you back in five minutes.”
Five minutes later, Ashley said to expect George within a half hour. Tony said he'd disturbed the president's Thanksgiving preparations. He said he'd make the call and wanted to be kept informed.
Storm Surge (Quantum Touch Book 5) Page 33
