A Dubious Artifact (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 6)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  “And we have put the issue of the ashtray artifact to bed. No one will bother to look for it now,” Loni said happily.

  “Amen to that,” Banyon quickly replied. They touched their coffee mugs to celebrate.

  “Should we keep the real one in the vault?”

  “Loni, the artifact is part of both you and me, going back to World War II and even earlier. I believe it is meant to be in our hands,” Banyon said. He then kissed her on her lips. She giggled.

  “It’s our secret then,” she fluttered her eyebrows at him.

  “Have the obituaries for Tom and Greg shown up yet?” Banyon inquired

  “I’ve found Tom’s. It is at ten o’clock in the morning, tomorrow. She then gave him the details.” She started to look for Greg’s obituary.

  “We are going to present Tom’s wife with one of the gold chains,” Banyon said. “He was a good man. Another one will go to Greg’s mother. The rest of us will also have a chain to wear as well. Maya’s will have the gold locket. It’s to remember Greg.”

  “Look,” Loni suddenly said. “I’ve found Greg’s obituary. It says that the funeral will be at two in the afternoon tomorrow. It also says that he is survived by a brother. I didn’t know he had a brother.”

  “What else?”

  “He is also survived by his mother and father and…” Loni suddenly was silent. Her face turned ashen and she couldn’t speak.

  “Here, let me read it,” he finally said. Suddenly Banyon’s face was ashen also. They just sat there and stared at each other. The article said that he was also survived by his pregnant fiancé.

  ***

  About an hour later, the kitchen door flew open and in stepped the three Patel women with Eric following carrying a mountain of shopping bags. Loni and Banyon had retired to the great room and were quietly talking on a couch. The three women looked happy and full of energy.

  “We have some announcements,” Previne said.

  “We already know that Maya’s pregnant,” Loni shot back. “It was in Greg’s obituary in the newspaper.” Loni said sarcastically. Both, she and Banyon were shocked that Maya had not told them before they found out by the media.

  “But I wasn’t sure until today,” Maya said defensively. “We have just been to my doctor and he confirmed it. I don’t know how anyone else knew, unless Greg told someone.” Her lower lip began to extend, her face dropped and she was seconds away from crying.

  Banyon quickly jumped up and hugged her. “Do you want a boy or girl?”

  “It’s a girl,” Maya returned with a small smile. “And you should know that I have decided to stay in America and raise her here. I want her to be an American.” Maya now stood proudly, defiant in front of them.

  “We are going to stay here as well,” Pramilla told them. “We are going to stay at least until the baby is born. Previne and I will take a leave of absence from our work. Eric and I will go back to India and be gone a week to wrap things up there. Previne will stay here. I also need to return the poor man’s jet that I borrowed.”

  “Maya will need our help,” Previne interjected.

  Banyon was speechless. “Well, as I told you, you can stay here for as long as you want, all of you.”

  Loni was in even greater shock. This is definitely going to cause me problems, she thought.

  Studying the shock on Loni’s face, Previne said. “We will only stay here for about a month or so, Loni. We took a look at the Spitz house today. I’m thinking of buying it. We could live in the same neighborhood. We could drop over and visit anytime we want, how cool is that?”

  When will this stop, Loni thought. “Don’t forget that Colt and I are going to our condo in Las Vegas in a couple of months. We’ll spend the winter there.”

  ***

  Tom’s funeral was held in a private cemetery. He was buried next to his father. His wife, Mary, sat in a chair by the grave for the ceremony. It was a sad and somber affair. The Banyon group stood near the back of the mourners, they didn’t know Tom as well as the other people there. As the ceremony broke up, Banyon approached the stricken woman.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” he began. “We, my friends and I, were with Tom in the end. He was a fine man.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “When he told me over the phone that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, I knew there was danger. It was our little code for trouble. He did talk about you and how your fathers were connected Mr. Banyon.”

  “Call me Colt, please.” He told her. He then introduced the other members of the team using their first names.

  “Now, I can put faces to some of your voices,” she mysteriously replied.

  “We want you to have this,” Banyon brought out the necklace. “It is made from the very item he was protecting when he died. We are all wearing a necklace from that item.” He then showed her his.

  “I will wear it every day, Colt.” She clutched it to her heart. They turned to leave, but Mary called after them.

  “You know both Tom and I worked at the OIG, right?”

  “Yes, you were tracking the Effort,” Banyon added.

  “Well, from now on, if you need help in any way, you call me, okay? Tom would want it that way.” She reached into her purse and handed him a card.

  ***

  They were at the funeral home for Greg Gamble by eleven thirty. Maya went to the open casket first. Eventually, they all paid their respects. The atmosphere was incredibly somber. Greg’s mother and father, along with the brother, sat in the front row. Maya went and sat next to them.

  Several people went to a small podium at the front and talked about their experiences with Greg. Banyon was one of them. He told everybody in the room he had known Greg and his family for several years. How, in the beginning, he had miss-trusted the always formal FBI agent. He told them he couldn’t cheat at golf when Greg was around, how Greg dominated a room, and how Greg was the best FBI agent he had ever met. Banyon then brought out the necklace, walked from the podium and presented it to Greg’s mother.

  Later, as he stood in an alcove in the back of the funeral home, Greg’s mother approached him. “Colt,” she said. “Greg considered you as a good friend. He was always working and didn’t have too many friends. I would consider it an honor if you would be a pall bearer for him.”

  “It would be an honor for me as well,” he replied graciously.

  “You know, I kind of jumped the gun on Maya being pregnant. They hadn’t actually announced that she was with child yet. But, I knew.”

  “Did Maya ask you to talk to me?”

  “She just asked if I had put it in the obituary. Did I do something wrong?” Greg’s mother asked with concern on her face.

  “Of course not,” Banyon said sincerely. “We were just surprised, that’s all.”

  “At least I will have a little piece of him around. She has a qualified baby sitter anytime she needs me.”

  “Loni and I also want to help Maya raise her,” Banyon replied. “Congratulations, you’re going to be a grandmother. Maya and her sisters are wonderful people and the baby will always get plenty of attention.” He smiled at her and gave her a hug.

  Suddenly, there was a huge commotion in the front of the funeral home. It interrupted their conversation. Several men in black suits, dark sunglasses and stern faces poured into the funeral home and took up positions around the perimeter. Several people turned with concern on their faces.

  The front door flew open and in walked the President of the United States. He removed his sunglasses and scanned the people sitting in the parlor for a minute. He then proceeded to the casket containing Greg Gamble and paid his respects.

  “Oh, my God, he did come,” Greg’s mother uttered and hurried to her seat. When the President was done he went over to the Gambles and sat down to talk to them.

  As Banyon watched, he became aware that there were two agents flanking him. Without turning his head, one agent said. “The President would like a word with you in private. Please follow
me.” The two agents lead Banyon out of the funeral home and into the Presidents limousine.

  “Wait here,” he said and closed the door.

  ***

  About twenty minutes later the door opened and in slid the President of the United States. He held out his hand for Banyon to shake. Banyon went to stand up, but the President waved him to stay in his seat.

  “Mr. Banyon, may I call you Colt?”

  “Of course, sir,” Banyon replied.

  “You may call me Mr. President,” he laughed, showing that he had a sense of humor.

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  The President had no time to beat around the bush. “Colt, America suffered a great lost when Greg Gamble died.”

  “Yes sir,” Banyon uttered.

  “As you know, he was heading up a very important task force to rid our government of an incessant evil, an evil that is striking at the very core of America. I know you have helped him in this quest.”

  “I have, Mr. President.”

  “Our work is not complete. I need you to continue the work that Greg started.” The President said as he looked Banyon straight in the eye.

  “But, how…?” Banyon stuttered.

  “I am well aware of your ability to gather information.” He used his fingers in quote signs. “I need you to go after the Effort and clear them out of our government before it is too late. Will you do it?”

  “Mr. President, I’m not qualified,” Banyon answered.

  “Nonsense,” the President exclaimed. “I like results, Colt. How many artifacts have you already recovered?” He began counting them off on his fingers, “the Aryan tablet, the infamous copy Mein Kampf, the Black Diamond, an invisible formula, open sesame chant, some sort of ashtray, not to mention all those German wonder weapons. And how many Nazis have you taken down?”

  “What would you have me do?” Banyon interrupted.

  “I’m going to appoint you to a new position. Don’t have a title yet. Don’t know where your office will be and don’t know who will work with you, but we need to get started. The Effort can’t wait.”

  “Do I get to make choices of my team and the location where we will be centered?”

  “The only restriction I have, at the moment, is that Maya Patel will work for you in some capacity. She has asked for that and I want to oblige her.” Banyon suddenly realized his recent time at the FBI headquarters was actually a job interview and Maya had a hand in the process.

  “How long do I have to think about it?” Banyon tried to stall for time; after all, he was at his friend’s funeral.

  “I’ll give you five minutes alone.” The President opened the door and left the limousine.

  ***

  It was six minutes later when Banyon entered the funeral hall as the President’s caravan sped away

  “Where have you been?” Loni was right in his face. “They want to start the procession and one of the pall bearers has been missing, you.”

  “It’s hard to believe,” he remarked seriously. “But I was accepting a job offer.”

  Author’s Notes

  This book is a complete work of fiction. Any similarities between real people and my characters are a pure coincidence. At times I do use the names of people that I have known, but they have agreed to have their name in print.

  As always, I have woven actual history into the plot of the book. In particular, the history of “Merrill’s Marauders” is real. The number of Japanese that they killed and the havoc they caused during their campaign in Burma, now named Myanmar since 1989, will never be completely known. Their mission was to harass the Japanese in the area and to help in the reopening of the vital Burma Road between the allies and China. Three thousand men went in and in the end only about two hundred were left. My father was one of them. He was seventy pounds when he was evacuated to India. And yes, he was MIA for some time during the campaign.

  The artifact in the book is indeed an ashtray. I still have it. In the book, it had formulas written on it. The Chinese have experimented with alchemy for thousands of years. The concept of Yin and Yang fostered many imperial chemists to attempt to produce gold and elixirs to extend the life of several emperors. History well documents many emperors dying of poisoning produced by a plethora of elixirs.

  Lastly, I do want to mention my daughter-in-law’s jewelry store. It is located in the diamond district in downtown Chicago. It is called the Classic gem store.

  Acknowledgements

  Several people helped me with this book. Tom Cruickskank, my brother-in-law, was most notable. He provided me with valuable insight into Merrill’s Marauders that he got from my father. Both Tom and my father are veterans and Tom spent countless hours talking with my dad, before he died, about his part in the war. My brother Stephen Kubicki also filled me in on several things that I did not know.

  My son, Kris and his lovely wife Lollie gave me valuable information about gold and jewelry.

  Kathy Mayeda as always is my major sounding board for ideas and the first to read and criticize my work it only makes my books better.

  Bonus Reading from my next book

  A Dubious Position

  Chapter One

  Colton Banyon strolled casually down the sidewalk on Hubbard St. just north of the loop in downtown Chicago, IL. He was currently only a few blocks from the famous Michigan Avenue. He had parked his car at his son’s house and walked the several blocks to his destination.

  It was a bright late-spring afternoon. The temperature hovering at seventy degrees and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was a beautiful day. His black Tumi satchel slapped at his side as he walked, reminding him that he had work to do today. As he neared the restaurant, he noticed several people across the street milling around the Marriot hotel. Some had on Cubs hats and jackets and some wore Yankees hats and shirts. He immediately realized they were all going to the game scheduled at Wrigley field today. He knew a bus ran from the Marriot directly to the ballpark and the people were waiting for their ride.

  It was rare for the Yankees, his favorite team, and the Cubs, to play each other except in the World Series and that hadn’t happen since 1902. But interleague play had changed that. The Yankees were in town for a three game series starting tonight at seven o’clock. He looked at his Movado watch and noted that it was only a little after one o’clock in the afternoon. The people had a long wait before the game started.

  He suddenly realized the baseball fans across the street would spend most of their day just going to a baseball game. How great it must be to have that much free time, he thought. He was envious. Although, he was supposed to be retired himself, he was always busy and today he would be starting a new career. He was heading to a luncheon where the details would be explained. This was, however, no ordinary position. It had been arranged by the President of the United States.

  As he neared the entrance to Shaw’s Crab House he spotted a black Cadillac Escalade parked illegally on the street, right in front of the restaurant. Two men in black suits and sunglasses stood at both ends of the vehicle and scanned the surrounding area with watchful eyes. One noticed Banyon and kept him in a steady gaze as he approached.

  “Good afternoon Mr. Banyon,” he spoke with a slight southern accent.

  Wondering how the man knew his name, he responded with, “Hello”.

  “The Secretary is waiting for you, but first we must scan you,” the man said evenly and motioned for Banyon to move alongside the SUV and out of the line of sight of the fans across the street. He opened the back door of the SUV and produced a hand held scanner. The second man grabbed Banyon’s bag and rummaged through it as the first man passed the device over Banyon.

  Satisfied with the results, the first man announced, “Clean”.

  “I did shower this morning,” Banyon joked, but it was lost on the serious Secret Service men.

  “Follow me; I will take you to the private dining room,” one said.

  They entered the busy restaurant and weaved
through the crowded serving floor. They soon came to a closed door. The man opened it and Banyon walked inside.

  The room was small. There was only one person in it, The Secretary of the U.S. Department of Justice. The Secretary did not get up to greet him, she was a woman. Banyon stepped over to her and extended his hand. “I’m Colton Banyon,” he said.

  The Secretary said nothing and didn’t offer her hand. She was munching on a piece of bread. Instead, she motioned for Banyon to sit next to her at the small table. She continued to chew for a full minute as she sized up her visitor.

  Finally, she asked, “Want a drink?”

  “I’ll have a vodka and tonic with a twist of lime,” Banyon told the waiter who had been all but invisible in the corner of the room.

  “Do you have a preference for the vodka?” the waiter quickly asked.

  “Stolichnaya,” Banyon replied.

  “I’ll have a Jonny Walker Red, neat,” added the Secretary. The waiter left to fill their order.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, madam Secretary,” Banyon started, but was waved off by the DOJ.

  “We’ll talk after he brings the drinks,” she announced dismissively and went back to eating more bread.

  Banyon already knew a few things about the woman next to him. The Secretary of the Justice Department was a cabinet level position. The DOJ was a political appointment made by the President. Her name was Marlene Moore and it was rumored that she was very close to the big man. It was also rumored that she was a control freak, and ice queen, and never said anything more than was absolutely necessary. As he studied her, he realized she had once been very attractive, but the weight of her position was taking its toll on her features. Her clothes were fashionable and sexy. However, she looked more like a woman that had passed her prime, but refused to believe it. He was sure she recently had plastic surgery.

  The waiter returned with their drinks and served them. “We will have our preordered lunch in exactly one half hour,” she informed him. “Until then, leave us alone.” The waiter left the room.