“Wonderful. Because of that, I’ll try scare up some biscuits for our tea. Keep you here a while longer.”
“How long did you teach?”
“Thirty years. Then we did some travel. Went to the states. Massachusetts was one. Tommy died five years later. It was sudden. I started a new career. Museum curator. The Castle Museum. Did that for ten years. Then when I was seventy, five years ago, they sort of forced me to retire. They needed new ideas, they said. They let me come in here a couple days a week and whenever someone wants to see the old stuff.”
They walked and looked as they talked.
“Any children, Elizabeth?”
“We never had children. I had my museum and my roses. I raise roses. Just a few blocks from here. I have a greenhouse. I’ve actually won some prizes. There, that’s my life. What’s yours?”
They wandered through old exhibits. An hour went by quickly. Between explanations, Chad filled Elizabeth in on his short life. It seemed even shorter when he left out the current project. What have I accomplished, he wondered. Where am I heading?
“Got a sweetie at home?” she asked.
“Actually, in London. She’s English. Scottish. We just met.”
“H-m-m. Another case of falling in love with each other’s accents?”
“I hope it is not just based on that. But, I admit, sometimes we are speaking a different language.”
“I remember how that was with me and my Tommy.” She laughed. “Well, Chad, that is it. We covered everything for those centuries and more, unless you want to look through the boxes and records.”
“Would there be anything under a heading of Moffat’s Secret or Moffat’s Treasure, or perhaps the treasure of York. It happened in 1360?”
“We can look. Time for that tea, as well.”
As they turned toward her office, an exhibit caught Chad’s eye. “What is that? A flying saucer?
“Yes. The Rendlesham Forest incident.”
Chad’s face was a blank.
“A UFO landed and the American military interacted with it. You haven’t heard of it?”
“No. When?”
“1980. Ah, before your time. It has been called Britain’s Roswell.”
Chapter 94
“Milk?” Elizabeth asked.
“No milk. Just one sugar please, Elizabeth. Thank you. I cannot get over the flying saucer. Tell me the story.”
“You can look it up for more details. But here it is in a nutshell. The day after Christmas, 1980, there was a UFO sighting at three in the morning. Numerous people saw it. Soldiers did as well. Including some high ranking ones. It appeared as if there was a crash landing in the forest. American soldiers responded and saw a metallic craft with lights. When they approached, it floated away through the forest. Police responded at four in the morning. They reported, at that time, there were no lights that were unnatural. Just a lighthouse. The next day, the US army investigated. They found a triangular depression and a burned area at the spot where it was seen on the ground.”
“Why was the US involved?” Chad asked. “Wasn’t it an RAF base?”
“The US was storing nuclear weapons there. Your air force was there for security. And, I suppose, a launch if it came to that. That information was not known by the public at the time.”
“I see. Go on.”
“From there it gets messy. People swearing what they saw. Disputed radiation readings. Denouncement by the UK police and military. Claims of a cover-up. In the nineties, we did the display you saw. It has been a topic of local lore and notoriety. But, I removed the display in 2010. That was when things got weird.”
“Then it got weird?” Chad asked. “Seems like this calls for another cup and another biscuit.”
Elizabeth laughed.
Chad asked, “Do you believe in UFOS, extraterrestrials, and such?”
“I do. I don’t believe we humans made the progress we did without some help along the way. I taught science, as I said, for thirty years. I came to appreciate the significant leaps in science that we made, based on what a few geniuses did. I think they could be called blessed, if you were religious. I say, they were inspired and guided by some intelligence. What do you believe?”
“I haven’t thought much about it until lately. I’m still thinking about it. So what happened in 2010 that was weird?”
“Well, Chad. On the night of the sighting in 1980, three U.S. air force personnel responded. One watched. Two approached. One of the airmen that approached, Jim Penniston, was twenty-six at the time.”
“Did your husband know him?”
“My Tommy left the service three years earlier. He had not met any of the three, but he did know several in command there. Tommy had no additional insight into this, other than this was not the first sighting he had heard about. Why not? Nuclear weapons. If we are being monitored, that would be a place to keep an eye on.”
Chad took a few notes.
She continued. “Penniston and his buddy said they had felt an electrical charge in the air when they approached. Penniston touched the craft. He made some drawings in his notebook. The next day, Penniston said he was seeing ones and zeros in his mind. He wrote these down in his notebook as well. Sixteen pages of them.”
“I’m lost Elizabeth. So this information came out in 2010, not in 1980?”
“Right.”
“Why not? Official Secrets Act?”
“No. He says that once he wrote it down, the numbers disappeared from his mind. He puts the notebook away and doesn’t think much of it until thirty years later.”
“Didn’t think much about it?” Chad asked. “Just your usual old UFO encounter?” He shook his head in disbelief. It sounded so absurd that he started laughing. He tried to stop, but couldn’t. He was able to squeak out a ‘sorry’. Elizabeth caught the contagious laugh. The laughing became louder. One fed off the other. Finally teary eyed and out of breath, they stopped.
“That’s when I took the display out of the main museum. It was embarrassing. I left it set up in here and added a section for 2010.”
“A hoax then?” Chad asked.
“Not the whole thing. But certainly thirty years was plenty of time to draw pictures and make a binary code that translated to something.”
“The translation that I saw on the exhibit? I didn’t realize that was 2010. I was not sure why it was there. Now, I understand. What does it say?”
“The translation says it was a time machine visit from our own planet six thousand years in the future.”
Chad wore a big grin.
“Let’s look at this seriously for a minute, Chad.”
He went along, “Okay.”
“I’ve considered this every way that I can. I am just an old schoolteacher. I’m sure brighter minds can make a case for its logic and truth.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Liz.”
“You can have another biscuit, Chad. No need to use flattery. Oh, go ahead, have two biscuits.”
Chad munched on a biscuit, as Elizabeth said, “I had surgery a few years ago. Have you had surgery?”
“No.”
“They give you this drug before they knock you out. It blocks your memory. Amazing. You are awake for a while after the drug, but you remember nothing. Let’s consider what might be available in technology and drugs six thousand years from now. How far have we come in the last six thousand years? You’re the archeologist. What happened then?”
“Before the pyramids? Before Stonehenge?”
“Yes. So, is it too much to think that there could be mind projections like he said he experienced. Telepathy. One with a coded message to forget about it?”
“But why?” Chad asked.
“No answer. An experiment? Not perfected yet or too many unknowns about the psyche of humans six thousand years earlier?”
“Okay. What else was in the code?” Chad asked.
“It indicates their origin point is somewhere in southern England. However, it is not currently a
well-populated area. That bothers me. There were coordinates of other stops along their way, six in total. Like Giza in Egypt and the Nazca line in Peru.” She told him the others.
“What are your thoughts on that, Liz? The six places are known to us today as extraterrestrial sites, correct?”
“Yes, Chad, and I see where you are going. I go there as well. It could all be made up from what is known today.”
“What bothers you, Liz?”
“If you visited the year 1776, where would you want to go?”
“Boston. The revolution.”
“Right. And in the years around zero CE?”
“Jerusalem.”
“Exactly. So what is significant about visiting Rendlesham Forest in 2010? Surely we have more interesting places in the world today. Now, they do not say they when they visited Giza. If it were in 2010, no big deal. If they visited five thousand years ago to see it built, that would be different.”
“It almost sounds like you want to believe that the time machine was true?”
“There are days, Chad. There are days, that I do believe it. Perhaps, because I don’t have many days left.”
“Aw, c’mon, Liz,” Chad said.
“You have to admit, not as many as you,” she stated.
Maybe not, he thought. But, the way things have been lately, she might outlive him.
She asked, “I was thinking about the binary code. What language would you pick to communicate in if you visited from the future? Binary code is a good choice if it’s kept electronic, but written out? Sixteen pages for a simple message. Not very advanced. What language would you choose to communicate to man six thousand years ago, Chad?”
“Unfair. Written languages were still twenty five hundred years away.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Good point. But if you were planning to go to England during a time when there was a written language, wouldn’t you use that? Surely our current language would not be so obsolete that they could not have it translated to whatever theirs is, or should I says ours is, in 8100?”
“Make you think doesn’t it?” Chad asked. It wasn’t the first time he asked himself about the tablets. What language do you use for thousands of years in the future?
He looked at his watch. “I better get going back to London. Liz, this has been a treat.”
“For me, too.”
“I didn’t see a car outside. Can I give you a ride?”
“That would be nice. Sometimes, I walk. Sometimes, though, I am tired. Tell you what. Give me a lift and I’ll give you a rose for your sweetie. What is her name?”
“Sandy.”
It was another thirty minutes and a tour of the greenhouse before Chad left. She gave him a yellow rose. He gave Elizabeth his card.
“Oh my. A doctor. Teacher?”
“Teacher and a digger, Lizzie.”
“Liz to you, Dr. Archer,” she scolded. You’re not the first pushy yank I’ve run into. Have to keep you cheeky blokes in check.”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek.
On the drive to London, Archer once again wondered why Doc went to Ipswich. Chad hoped he hadn’t missed a clue. He also thought more about the surveillance he spotted in Ipswich. Once again, he thought about who knew where he was going and how they knew. Something was wrong. He thought he knew what it was.
Chapter 95
“Ooh. You brought me flowers,” Sandy smiled, obviously pleased.
“A flower,” Chad responded, happy to see her smile.
“A yellow rose. How sweet.” Sandy kissed Chad. “I’ve never had a yellow rose. Does yellow mean something special?”
“I don’t know. Probably does.”
“It means you like me. You like me. You like me,” she taunted in a singsong voice while hunting for something to put it in.
“How did the trip go?” she asked.
Chad gave her an abbreviated version. As he spoke, he noticed her smile faded and was replaced by a frown. Finally, he asked. “What.”
“So Mrs. James really gave me the rose. Not you.”
“Well…,” he stuttered.
“She suggested it.”
“Yeah, but….”
“She picked it out.”
“Of course, but then I….”
“You just delivered it.”
Finally Chad smartened up and stopped protesting.
Sandy plopped down in his lap. “It’s still sweet. Just messing with you, Archer.”
--------
“Hello,” Boyer answered his phone. No caller ID. No number he recognized.
“It’s me,” Chad said. He had purchased a burner phone, just in case.
Boyer was smart enough to figure out something was wrong.
“Problem?”
“Yes. We need to meet.”
“Where and when?”
“Dallas. You and Haskin.”
“That won’t happen. He does not meet. He stays removed. Best for both of you.”
“He and you both need to hear what I have to say.”
“Where have you been?” Boyer pressed.
“Dallas. In two days.” Chad insisted.
“I’ll check and call you back at this number.”
“I’ll call you. I’m tossing this phone.” Chad hung up.
He felt good. In control - for a minute at least. But, that’s the way he felt before seeing his pursuers in Ipswich. Chad knew he had to do something different, something more to avoid detection. He had to disappear. Chad Archer had to drop off the grid.
Chapter 96
Twelve hours of sleep, ten miles of running, and three cups of coffee. Archer strode into the Boston police station feeling alive again.
“Look at you, professor,” Mac commented, looking up from a desk piled high with papers.
“Morning, Mac. “How are you doing?” Chad plopped in a chair next to Mac’s desk.
Jimmy MacDonald frowned and held up a stack of files. “Had to move on from Biskell.”
“The case is dead?” Chad asked, surprised.
“Back burner. Just me left on it. No more stones to turn over. No more leads to follow. Biskell has covered his ass well. At this point I can only hope for the two bodies to turn up. Even then, there won’t be any evidence linking Biskell. We’d have to find his hit man and get him to turn. Interpol has also made the auto thefts a low priority.”
“What about the fake VINs?”
“At least we shut that down. We’ve contacted all manufacturers of the high-end sports cars. They’ve cleaned up their records. They also put in some checks and balances and improved their firewalls. We’ve shut down that avenue of income, but I don’t think Biskell will care.”
“Do you think the leak about UK car thefts that night was a setup by Biskell?”
“I thought about that. Scotland Yard is beginning to think so, too. Just to eliminate Alan Evers, in front of our noses. Biskell seems spiteful and vindictive. I wouldn’t put it past him. Any new ideas?”
“Yeah, one. But if he has given up stealing and smuggling autos, it won’t work.”
“What is it?”
“You know how Biskell seems to want to micro-manage things. He has a personality that wants to be near where things are going on, but keeps himself layered and untouchable?”
“Sure. He certainly has that personality,” Mac agreed.
“Right. Tellier tried to place Biskell near the shipments over the last three years where they suspected smuggled autos. Every case, except for three, Biskell was in the States, wasn’t he? He was in England and Italy when Evers brought him in for questioning. Then he was never present until this last one, when he may have been there just to bait us.”
“Correct.” Mac was interested.
“What if Biskell had set up alibis in the states, but he was really not here. What if he traveled under another ID?”
“H-m-m. I see where you are going. There was no record of Brian Biskell leaving the country.”
“Exactly. If we lear
n that ID, can we track it in the future? Instead of tracking him as Biskell?
“ID or IDs. He’d probably have a few. If we know who he was when he traveled, and if he left a paper trail, we may be able to place him at past scenes. And, you are right, at least we’d be alerted if he traveled again.”
“Maybe. I don’t know much about that stuff. I don’t have any data or facts on how things are done. How you use a fake ID successfully and what things trip you up. I figure you guys have a squad for that or maybe an FBI contact or something?”
“We can check it out.” Mac was already thinking ahead.
“Okay. Well that’s the idea I promised you. I’ve got things to do. Let me know what comes of it?” Chad rose and started to leave.
“Whoa. Whoa. Where do you think you are going? I need you on this, professor. I need you to gather those forensic history facts and put together a plan. I’ll need you all day. Sit down. I’m calling a friend downtown. He’s been the liaison with Homeland Security and Customs. The US immigration and Customs heads up cases on Identity issues. We’ll see if we can get you a primer on the do’s and don’ts of fake IDs.”
Chad felt good. He got what he hoped for. He felt a little bad about using Mac this way.
-----
Archer parked on a crowded old South Boston Street. This wasn’t your quaint neighborhood residential area. It was eight blocks from the main street. Clanging of metal on metal, power tools, and welding fumes distinguished this area. Tiny restaurants and bars stood like sentinels on the corners. The diners served workingman portions of breakfast and lunch but were closed for dinner. There was too much competition with the bars at that time of day. Stale beer, greasy food, and dead dreams rose from the streets. Yet amid the businesses that came and went, a few stayed profitable enough through the years to become almost a landmark to prospective entrepreneurs. Charles Choppers was one of those.
It was opened in the 1950s, a dream of Charles Hadley, a twenty year old that loved motorcycles. Forty years later he turned the business over to his son Frank, who in turn passed it on to the current owner, Charles, named after grandpa.
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