Max filled the Chief in about the mix-up of the cellphones and how the senator must have inadvertently taken his wife’s phone by mistake. “Mrs. Spark had no idea that her husband was dead, only that her phone was lost.”
“Okay, so we’ll trace it?”
“Sorry. She followed the Lookout Security protocol and erased the data. Then she deactivated the phone.”
The chief frowned.
“But wait, before she disabled the phone, the Lookout Security program located the device at around 9:00 p.m. on the same day the Senator’s body was found in the park.”
“And?” the chief asked impatiently. “It was at The Bachelor’s Mill.”
The chief broke out in laughter. “Certainly not a place I’d expect the senator to frequent.”
“Especially if he was already dead.”
“How long have you been on this case, Max?”
“Oh, about two hours.”
“Okay,” he huffed, “we’ll share any unsecured information. But if I find out you’re holding on me, your new career will end very quickly. I’m the new sheriff in town and you play by my rules.”
“Ray, is this any way to start a new relationship? You have my word. As soon as I come across anything definitive, I’ll turn it over.”
“Max, when you start being cooperative—I start to worry.”
“Enjoy your day, Chief.”
Chapter 11
THREE FOR THREE
Max returned to the townhouse and settled back into her office after noticing that Jax had stepped out. Moments later, the doorbell rang. “Yes?” she asked through the intercom.
“Flower delivery!”
From the monitor, Max could see the profile of young kid with shaggy hair. Behind him was a white van with the name “Nosegay Florist” scrawled across the side. Feeling at ease, she opened the door, but was taken aback by the enormous arrangement of flowers placed inside a vase large enough for the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The bouquet blocked the kid’s face and before she could thank him, he had swiftly turned around and headed back down the front steps. “Have a good day, ma’am” were his parting words.
“Mmm,” Max said as she placed the flowers on her desk. She unpinned the small envelope attached to the tag and read the card inside: Congratulations, from your ardent admirer. “How sweet, Noble,” she said aloud, but questioned, “Why edelweiss?” Max then started to wonder whether they could have actually come from Stanton but held off from calling him for the moment. “Another mystery to solve, but not today!” Suddenly, the phone rang, interrupting her thoughts.
“Hey, how uncanny, I was just thinking about you. Where are you?”
“Can’t say, but it’s great to hear your exuberant voice. What gives?”
“Noble—I have my first case!”
“That was fast. Who’s the lucky client?”
“Isabelle Spark.”
“The senator’s wife?”
Max could tell from Noble’s voice that he was a bit stunned. “Yes, she believes her husband was murdered and wants me to prove it.”
“I thought the papers reported it a suicide.”
“The coroner hasn’t ruled out foul play yet, so the case is still wide open. And there’s definitely more digging to be done. I don’t have any conclusive evidence, but it’s out there and I’m going to find it.” Max refrained from telling him about the two dead scientists or the photo album, and she certainly was not about to mention her phone call to a mystery person in Sarasota. Like Noble, she also played things close to the vest.
“Take it slow, Max,” he cautioned.
“What do you think about edelweiss?”
He thought it an odd question, given the sudden change in topic, but he was certainly curious. “Why?”
“Oh, I was considering decorating options for the office.”
“How clever! Using a flower with the German term for ‘noble’ in the name. You’ll be surrounded by me every day.” He chuckled, knowing that decorating was not her forte. “What going on with you?”
“Nothing.” Pooh, he didn’t send them.
Max appeared distracted and he did not want to stay on the line much longer anyway. “Sweetheart, congratulations on your first case. I’m really proud of you for going out on your own. But I pity the suspects you uncover.”
“Thanks. And how’s it going on your end?”
“Everything’s fine. I’ll call you in a few days. Right now I’m pushed for time.”
“Okay. Be safe wherever you are. Love you.”
“Love you too. Give my best to Jax.”
Max hung up the phone and sat back to admire the bouquet. At the same time, she tried to envision where Noble was—all she saw was a blank canvas. The reality that she would also be forced to retain secrets was sinking in, something she still wrestled with. She shook her head and refocused on the flowers. So if it wasn’t Noble, who sent the bouquet? Then Stanton popped back into her mind. “Oh, let it go. Too much self-contemplation for one day. I have a business to run.”
“This is Max Ford, the former deputy director of the SIA. I’d like to speak with Senator Erog.” She thought a little clout wouldn’t hurt, given the situation.
“One moment, please,” his secretary replied.
“Max, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” the senator asked jovially, hiding his uneasiness. He had wrestled with the SIA before and did not care for their sticking their noses into his various Capitol activities, whether or not they fit under their investigative purview.
“I’m investigating the death of Senator Sherman Spark.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Senator,” she prodded.
“Yes, yes. I understand Sherman’s death was ruled a suicide.”
“The police are continuing their investigation, so the case is not closed—”
Erog cut her off. “But why are you involve—” only to be cut off himself.
“Senator, the point of my call is to ask what is the main objective of your committee?”
“It’s public record. We study a variety of climate-change initiatives and recommend funding allocations to the House Committee on Appropriations. Why do you ask?”
“Do you know a scientist named Claus Veunet?”
Again there was silence, which Max found more telling than if he had given a direct response. She gave him the time to grapple for an answer.
“Max, what does this have to do with Sherman?”
“Veunet died in a climbing accident days before he was scheduled to testify before your committee. A committee you and Senator Spark co-chaired. And now the senator is also dead.”
Erog refrained from denying. He knew it would only feed her suspicions. “Yes, it was very sad. Veunet was a brilliant scientist and Sherman was a dear friend. I’ll be attending his celebration-of-life ceremony later this week.”
She did not buy into his sentimentality routine and continued to grill. “What about Luca Doerfinger?”
“Luca Doerfinger,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. “I’m sorry, Max. I’m already late for a meeting. I really have to go. Great talking with you.”
The dial tone reverberated in her ear.
“I would really love to play poker with that guy sometime.” She smiled thinking how easy it was until, unexpectedly, her phone rang while it still rested in her hand.
“So, Madam P.I., how was your first week?”
“Stanton, you’re my lucky charm. On Sunday I hung up the shingle you gave me and a week later my first client appeared.”
“Fantastic, Max! You’re destined to be great detective. What’s the case about?”
“I’ve been hired by Isabelle Spark to investigate the death of her husband.”
“The senator!”
“The one and only!”
The fact that Stanton was head of the president’s Secret Service detail made it easier for her to confide in him. But Max refrained from revealing t
he details of the case until she had verifiable facts. For the moment, she thought it best to change the subject and turned to more personal issues. “Amanda decided to take the honeymoon cruise on her own and Noble decided to disappear as well.”
“Hmm, interesting. You sure he’s not sailing on the blue-blue seas?”
“Oh, stop!”
“You can’t blame me for wishful thinking.”
“Oh, I almost forgot to thank you for the edelweiss, my ardent admirer!”
“Hey, doll, I’ll always be your admirer, but I didn’t send any flowers. And if I did, they wouldn’t be a flower that literally means noble. Are you sure they’re not from him?”
“Yes! So if Noble didn’t send them, and you didn’t send them, who sent me edelweiss?”
Stanton let out a pleasant laugh and made light of the conversation. “You’re the detective. I suggest you should start profiling jealous admirers.”
“Very funny.”
“Max, good luck on your case. And you know you can call on me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Stanton.”
“Catch you later.”
For the first time in a long time, Max reflected back on the day she had met the Major. It happened to be the day after a horrific explosion took place in an underground encampment in Utah, during which she had been badly bruised, but it also took the lives of two soldiers. Max was conducting an investigation for the SIA. Stanton was later assigned to work with her as a team to reenter the encampment in an attempt to locate the notorious terrorist Simon Hall. Initially, sparks flew as they stepped on each other’s turf. Then the sparks took on a new meaning. There was no denying he’s handsome, intelligent, and witty…and the sex was great. She smiled as she evoked the memory. But for some unknown reason and in spite of all his attributes, she was never able to commit. She chalked it up to one of life’s mysteries and was content with the way things were, until another horrible event occurred. It was the day she was kidnapped and splattered with the blood from the former First Lady’s fatal wound and Noble rushed to her side. At that moment, while he held her in a comforting embrace, she realized that he was the one who had touched her heart. Denying Stanton as her lover was painful—losing him as a friend would have been unbearable.
Chapter 12
TRADING HITS
The senator leaned back into his office chair, clearly unnerved.
Beads of sweat blanketed his brow. Then he heard the vibrating phone in the desk drawer and panic shot through his rotund body. “The timing sucks,” he muttered. But having no choice, he opened the drawer and answered the call.
“Have you found him yet?” The voice was purposely distorted, but the gruffness was apparent.
“No. And we have another problem. Spark’s wife apparently hired Max Ford to investigate his death.”
“Shit! There’s nothing to uncover—right?”
The senator suddenly had a sinking feeling that the conversation would not end well, but holding back would be lethal. “You don’t know Ford. She’s already thrown out the names of Claus Veunet and Luca Doerfinger.”
“She’s fishing with an empty hook. Find them and end this nightmare!”
“What do you want me to do about Doiron and his gang? They’re still out there, propagating the fallacies of global warming.”
“Leave them alone! They’re too exposed. Half the scientific community thinks they’re a bunch of geriatrics who’ve lost their stuff. That’s good enough.” The brusque caller paused and then, in a calmer tone, admitted, “However, there are two scientists running amok who could prove these guys actually know what the hell they are talking about.”
“But now Ford complicates matters. It means we’re in a foot race with her to find them.”
“Then find them first!”
The phone went dead.
The senator hastily placed a call from the same secure phone and waited to hear the click on the end of the line. Then he spoke. “The Director is getting nervous. Find them soon or all will come tumbling down—and you’re going with us.”
“We’re working on it.”
“There’s something else I want you to do.”
Chapter 13
JUMBLED CLUES
When Max heard Jax coming through the front door, she sprang out of her chair and dashed into the reception area. “Luca Doerfinger!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Doerfinger! That was the name of the scientist who died in the car crash. Now we need to find out if there’s a link between Claus Veunet and Luca Doerfinger. According to Veunet’s wife, both were classmates at the École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne.”
“Impressive! Pronunciation and all. But how do you come up with this stuff so fast?” Jax shook his head in amazement. “I’m not even sure you need me on this case.”
“Ah, Jax, of course I do. You’re my right arm. Now cheer up; there’s more.” Max rapidly filled him in on the rest of her conversation with Veunet’s widow and her subsequent conversation with the senator. “You can’t believe how easy it was to get Erog to give himself away.”
“Whatever’s going on, it obviously has the co-chair of the committee rattled. But before you go flying into outer space, I have something to show you. Follow me.” Jax headed into his office and sat down at his desk.
Max trailed behind.
“Pull up a chair and sit next to me.” Jax opened to a page he had bookmarked in the Spark family photo album and pulled out one of the photos to show Max.
“What’s that, Gematria? Or some other coded language? I don’t understand.” She was confused by the scribbling on the back of the photo.
“I’m not sure, but I found similar letters and numbers on the back of only three other photos. I remembered your telling me that the senator hid the letter to Isabelle behind the family portrait. As you suspected, he most likely damaged the frame deliberately, knowing that his wife would ultimately find his final instructions.”
“Mmm, Senator Spark would have known that if anything unusual happened to him, everything in his office would have been confiscated except for personal items, which would have been handed over to his family. It’s standard protocol for any investigation of a high-level official. Now it appears our senator had good reason to be suspicious.”
“Exactly! So that got me to thinking. Why would he want you to have the family photo album?”
“You think the letters and numbers are clues as to why he was killed?”
“If these scribbles are in the senator’s handwriting—they could be our first clue.”
Max inspected the notations more closely. “It looks like the same handwriting from the letter he wrote to Isabelle. But I can’t be sure. What’s befuddling is that we still don’t know exactly how Spark died, thanks to the snail-like investigators at the Capitol Police Department.”
“True, but hear me out. I wanted to preserve the evidence in the event we end up having to turn it over to the authorities. So I wrote down what I found scrawled on each of the photos and then returned them to their original place. It’s not going to be that easy to decipher, but I have a few wild guesses.” Jax winked and then placed the photo back in the album. He then handed Max a sheet of paper. “Have a look. I’ll explain the notations in parentheses as I go along.”
Max studied the jumbled clues.
LD 5.19-5.16 (CH)
AM (IT)
JVB 10.13 (GR)
CV 4.8-4.2 (FR)
“Do you think they were written on the photos randomly and then scattered throughout the album?” she asked.
“I wondered the same thing, but bear with me. The first notation on the list, starting with the letters ‘LD,’ followed by the numbers five-point-nineteen to five-point-sixteen, which were written on the flipside of this photo, the one I just showed you.”
Max re-examined the photo as Jax continued to explain the significance.
“As you can see, Mrs. Spark is standing on a river bank.
I’ve been there. It’s in Lucerne, Switzerland. The buildings behind her were a giveaway. The ‘CH’ scribbled in parentheses is my notation for Switzerland.”
“Okay! You have my undivided attention.”
Jax turned to another page in the album. “You can see for yourself that’s the Duomo in Florence, Italy. This time, I assume it’s of the entire family. On the other side of this photo were the initials ‘AM.’ Again, my scribbling ‘IT’ indicates the country.”
“What are you doing? You said the initials read ‘AM.’” Max asked as she watched Jax reach into the plastic casing to retrieve the photo.
“Look.” Jax turned the photo over. “I wasn’t about to write this gibberish down.”
Temp(year) – Temp(1850) < 1.8{Log[CO2(year)/CO2(1850)]/Log[2]} deg C
Max was baffled by the chaotic mix of letters, numbers, and symbols. “This case is getting weirder by the second. What’s your best guess?”
“Considering we are looking for a bunch of scientists—I’d say a scientific formula. Now let’s try to find one of the Einsteins who can tell us.” Jax started to slide the photo back into its proper place.
“Hold on a minute. Hold it still.” Max quickly snapped a picture with her smartphone. “Got it.”
Jax then put the photo back in the album and quickly moved to the next page. “‘JVB’ ten-point-thirteen was written behind this group photo of the family at the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, Germany.” Without hesitating, he flipped to another page and said, “Here’s the last photo. Obviously, it’s of the Eiffel Tower and this time no one is in the picture. But the letters ‘CV’ four-point-eight to four-point-two were written on the back.”
Max continued to study what appeared to be random letters and numbers.
Then while Jax was waiting for Max’s brilliance to come to the fore, he headed out to the kitchen. “I’ll go grab us a couple cups of coffee.”
“Thanks,” she answered. Her eyes remained fixed on the paper.
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