by Cat Connor
I had to do something to stop the insanity. I was in a room full of larger than life men with no privacy to speak of, so no hope of a quick and dirty phone call to Rowan. I glanced around the room. Guess I could always take my phone to the bathroom. A smile wandered around in my consciousness. I heard mom’s voice, “Behave, Ellie.”
It seemed smart to try to concentrate on something else.
I took a sip of the hot chocolate that Kurt gave me. It was good. Half the cup later it was time to give the relationship between Iain Campbell and John Brown some thought. What I needed was confirmation that Brown was our Unsub. That thought was set aside while I considered the relationships. We knew Iain was army with a classified record and Brown didn’t exist. I didn’t for one second think their only connection was through Maria Doyle. So where did they meet? Where would someone like Campbell meet a non-existent potential killer like Brown? And Noel disappearing like he did pissed me off. Unacceptable rudeness.
I drained the cup and set it back on the counter.
Flopping back onto the bed, I carried on trying to make sense of the Campbell/Brown meeting. What did their meeting have to do with the Bleich family? And the Sutherlands? And Maria Doyle was what to whom? And who was related to whom? I was starting to appreciate the Days of our Lives aspect of the case. All that was missing was someone lying comatose at the bottom of a set of stairs with another person buried in an avalanche and we’d have the makings of about five new episodes. The tangents spun on and on, the darkness climbing higher. Mac leaned over a thick concrete wall covered in graffiti. His voice echoed into a brick alleyway, “Come on, Babe. You can do this.”
I blocked out the soap opera aspect of my earlier thoughts and focused on one fact. One thing I did know. Four members of one family were dead. That, I knew was truth. Clawing fingers reached for that last solid thought, trying to drag it into the abyss. I watched as the Bleich parents contorted in agony as they spiraled downward into a fiery pit.
“Earth to Ellie.”
Flames leapt and the whole room smelled like a barbeque.
“Damn, I’m hungry,” I said wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Conway? Hungry again?”
So, that was out loud then. “Smelled barbeque, made me hungry.”
“I’m not even going to ask how that was possible or where you think you were.”
“What’d I miss?”
“Sam found something about that diamond,” Doc replied. He was lying propped up on one elbow, facing me. His expression bordered on concern. I detected a smidge of amusement and that tempered the unease drifting across his face.
“What’d you get, Sam?” I rolled over and sat up. My head spun. Should’ve done that slower. I swallowed and let the spinning stop.
Doc’s hand closed around my arm. “Hold on there, tiger, you okay”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because all the color just drained from your face and you swayed.” He was off the bed and crouching in front of me. “Look at me.”
Look at him? I wanted to smack him. There he was doing his doctor impersonation, except he was one, and doctors should not be as cool or sexy as he was. It’s just wrong.
Atta girl, go there again.
“I’m okay. Sat up too fast, that’s all.”
“That’s it? Nothing else going on? No headache?”
Fair enough, I let him have his moment. It’s not like I haven’t flipped out on the team before while suffering from a massive migraine.
“I’m good. I swear.”
He was still right there scrutinizing me. “Show me your hands.”
I held my hands up and sighed. “See, fingers not crossed. Now can I talk to Sam about sparkly things?”
There might’ve been something going on, but I didn’t think it was anything important. Tiredness, maybe. “Yeah, go ahead, I’m making more tea.”
I left that alone. Tea. Don’t even go there.
“Chicky Babe?”
“Wow me, Sam …”
“The Heathcote diamond was cursed or magical or something. To control the power contained within the original stone, a person must own all the pieces,” Sam said.
Awesome. That’s just what we needed, because the case wasn’t interesting enough so far, we needed magical curses to muddle things up some more.
“Bleich cut it into five, yeah?” I said.
“Yes, but not just those five stones. Everything from the original diamond pre-cut,” Sam said, he appeared to be paraphrasing from information on his laptop screen.
“That wouldn’t be possible, would it?”
“I don’t know how much is sliced off when they cut diamonds?” Sam replied. “Let me get some stats here, so we have a ball park idea on the loss.” He typed on the laptop keyboard. “A lot, depending on the diamond. The Centenary Diamond was five hundred and ninety nine carats uncut weight and a mere two hundred and seventy-three carats cut.”
“Okay, so, the diamond is cut into five but to activate the curse all the dust and whatever from the cutting and the five stones must be owned by a single person?”
“That’s how I understand it,” Sam said.
“Why did Bleich buy it originally?”
Why buy a cursed stone?
“The story on his website is that he bought the rough diamond with the intention of keeping it whole. Then strange things began happening. He found out about its history and the curse,” Sam grinned. “Are all diamonds cursed?”
“Seems that way,” I replied. “You never hear of happy stories about big diamonds. What happened next?”
“Bleich was told that cutting the stone would destroy the curse as long as the pieces were kept in different places and anything cut from the stone was buried.”
“He brought all the stones together for that charity affair.” I felt it was my duty to point that out.
Lee hummed the Twilight Zone theme. “He did, but one would assume the filings or dust or whatever were buried and not dug up again for this occasion and therefore the curse wasn’t reactivated.”
I leveled my eyes at him. I was too sleepy for curses.
“We all know my views on assuming anything.”
Sam piped up, “Never assume, it makes an ass out of u and me.”
I grinned. “Exactly.”
“What would be gained by digging up the dust and activating the curse?” Lee interjected.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the deaths of everyone involved in the separation of the stones.” Yeah, I pulled that out of thin air. But it was pretty good.
“The stone is killing?” Doc said. He couldn’t hide the skepticism in his voice and I didn’t expect him to. This was way into Twilight Zone territory. Deep, deep into the realms of improbability.
“I’ve never yet come across a stone of any description with opposable thumbs,” I replied. “People kill.” They also create curses and torment each other for fun. “This isn’t about a curse, but it could be about greed.”
Fighting a feeling of major space between my ears, I palmed my phone and made a call to Misha. If he answered, he was on the ground. If not, he’d get my message when he was able to turn on his phone again.
“Privet, Ellie.”
“Privet, Misha. Good flight?”
“Da. I am taking Mr. Bleich to a hotel.”
“Keep him close, Misha. I have a feeling …”
“A feeling?” I knew by the way he spoke that he knew what I was thinking but couldn’t talk. Not with the man seated next to him.
“He could be involved.”
“Good enough for me. I will be in touch.”
I hung up. All the eyes in the room were on me. Lee spoke first, “We’ve gone from talking about diamonds to thinking the remaining son is involved somehow?”
“Yep.”
“If we could bottle your gut instincts we’d make a fortune,” Doc said.
“I might be wrong.” The room erupted into peals of laughter. “Serious
ly, I did think Maria was involved and then I thought she wasn’t – so I could be wrong.”
Their faith in me was comforting. I lived fearing the possibility that one day the music wouldn’t be there for me and I’d be lost, fumbling in the dark unable to do what I do now. Mac chuckled inside my head. His warm voice reminded me of all I’d lost. Didn’t see that coming. Proof that I was fallible like anyone else.
“Where do you stand on the Maria situation now?” Doc said.
“I think she’s been used, and I think Campbell is right about her being in danger.” Tiredness was taking over. To be honest, it was kicking down the door with steel-capped boots and demanding I give in.
They all nodded.
“We need to find Maria and the Unsub,” Sam said.
“We need to find Campbell too,” I added. “Although finding him alive might be beyond our abilities.”
I yawned. Rain battered the windows. I needed to sleep.
“Sam, you and Lee see if you can find a park ranger. I’m done waiting.”
“On it.”
The door opened and closed. I left another message for the park ranger asking someone to call urgently. My eyes didn’t want to stay open much longer. I tried walking around the room and sitting by an open window but nothing was working.
“Get some sleep, Ellie,” Kurt said. “If they find him and can get an address then we’ll wake you.”
“We need to find her.”
“We will. Patience, grasshopper.”
Twenty-Four
Shine A Light
On Wednesday morning, I woke to Kurt announcing the rain had stopped and my phone going nuts. Waking in the morning meant no one found the park ranger. That wasn’t ideal. I checked the phone display hoping it was the park ranger. Carla.
“Carla?”
“Mom …” She sounded mad. It was too early for mad. What happened to the kid I took to a Grange concert in the weekend? Where was my happy, excited, joyful teenager who couldn’t wait to tell her friends she was on stage with Grange? OMG it was sooo cool.
“What are you doing awake at this hour?” I said, wriggling up in the bed until I was sitting.
“It’s seven o’clock, it’s not that early,” she snapped.
“Too early for your tone, young lady.” I rubbed my eyes and cautioned her, “You might want to rethink your approach.”
A long sigh preceded her next sentence. “Why can’t Joey hang with me today? It’s not fair. He’s my best friend.”
How to answer that without sounding like the Wicked Witch of the East was tricky. “It won’t hurt you two to spend a day apart. Anyway, you’ll see him at school.”
“We hardly have any classes together.” Every word grew in volume until she was yelling, “It’s not the same!”
That’s no way to change my mind or negotiate. “He’s not coming over after school or tonight. That’s all there is to it.”
“You’re mean!”
“It’s part of my job description. I love you. Have a good day.”
“But … but … it’s not fair!”
Click. She hung up on me.
When I looked up Kurt was holding a cup out to me.
“Thanks,” I replied. I took the cup, peered at it, sniffed it, and took a sip. Coffee. I dropped the phone on my bed.
“How is she?”
“Mad as hell at me.” I took a sip of the hot black liquid. Bliss. “She’ll get over it.” Sunlight crept across the floor as clouds parted. “Thought we were starting at dawn?”
“I think we all needed a little sleep,” he replied.
I looked around the room. “Where are Lee and Sam?”
“Having breakfast.”
My phone rang it was Cheryl.
“Morning, have some results for you. Sorry it took so long, it’s busy over here.”
“Shoot.”
“The twins are not Sigmund’s sons, they are Marika’s.”
“Don’t suppose your magic machines could tell you if Sigmund knew that?”
“Science can only do so much,” Cheryl replied with a small chuckle and hung up.
“The twins weren’t Sigmund’s,” I said to Kurt. “That means Marika has played the adulteress card before but I’m not sure what it means for the case, yet.”
Kurt sat in the chair by the window.
“Interesting,” Kurt said. “Breakfast in the dining room when you’re ready. You okay?”
“Yeah.” Breakfast in the dining room. I’d sooner skip it and just get moving. It felt like we were trapped in a quagmire of nothingness. “Still no word from the ranger.”
“We’ll track him down,” Kurt replied. “Breakfast first.”
He was right. We had to sleep and we had to eat. We’d do no one any good if we didn’t look after ourselves.
“Gimme ten minutes.” I drained the last of the coffee in my cup and hit the shower.
I stood under the streaming water for a few minutes. Letting the hot water wash away the feelings of guilt associated with Carla. How is it kids do that? I know that enforcing some Joey-free time won’t hurt her, so how does she make me feel guilty about it? Not cool.
Showering, dressing, and packing took a little over ten minutes. It was quick without incorporeal interruptions or musical interludes.
The quiet in my head defied logic and normality.
Breakfast was entertaining but fast. There was no mention of how the day would go until Sandra rang me while we were finishing up.
“I got a hit back on the prints from the diner,” she said. “Interpol databases, not ours.”
“He’s not American?” No one mentioned an accent; okay, so only one person we’d spoken to had heard him speak and she’d been shot. Might not be the best witness considering the circumstances.
“Nope, he’s British. From Northern Ireland to be more exact.”
“And he’s our Unsub?”
“Yes. He’s also known as John Brown.”
“Now that’s interesting. The hospital staff never mentioned he wasn’t an American. No one seems to have known he wasn’t American. You’d think someone, maybe Director Doyle, might have mentioned the man was Irish.”
“Until we investigated him he was just John Brown, Maria Doyle’s boyfriend and an innocuous one at that.” I heard her fingers tapping on the keyboard in front of her. “Interpol says he is Pearce Maguire, wanted for questioning regarding several assassinations in Europe.”
“Assassinations? This guy is a hit man?”
Independent contractor sounded nicer than hit man.
“Looks that way.”
“And he’s a Brit national?”
“Yes, holds a British passport.”
“How much time has he spent in the USA?”
“It’s hard to tell. Interpol told me he uses aliases and false passports. They have him entering the USA in 2004 and leaving three months later. No record of him being in the USA at the moment.”
“So our Unsub has a name. I suspected Brown was the Unsub. Good to know my instincts still work. We’re looking for Pearce Maguire not John Brown.” And then the penny dropped. “John Brown and Harper’s Ferry. Guess he thought that was funny.”
John Brown made an unsuccessful raid on the armory at Harper’s Ferry in 1859. Later that same year, he was tried for treason against the state of Virginia, the murder of five pro-slavery Southerners, and inciting a slave insurrection. He was subsequently hanged.
Great. A killer who is throwing our history in our faces. He’s not as funny as he thinks he is. In fact, he’s funny’s cousin. Joke’s on him. I’m not above a good ol’ fashioned lynching.
“Did you find out any more about Iain Campbell? Any luck getting into his records?”
“We’ve hit a wall, but haven’t yet been told to back off.”
I could feel it coming. The military were sensitive about us snooping into their people.
“Keep trying. Will you ask Caine to interview Zachary Bleich? Misha said he was c
hecking into a hotel with him last night.” I didn’t want to influence Caine’s questions so said nothing about my feeling that Zachary could have something to do with the deaths of his family. If Caine came back saying he thought the man was withholding information, then I’d tell him. If not, then I was wrong.
“I’ll get Caine onto it. He’s got a few hours between meetings this morning.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else?”
“I don’t think so.” I held my phone out to the table. “Anyone want to ask Sandra anything?”
A chorus of good mornings resounded but no questions.
Then Kurt changed his mind. He took the phone and asked Sandra about Carmel and if she could find out from local police what happened. When he hung up, he placed the phone next to my plate.
“All right?” I said.
“Yeah, just seems a little too coincidental that Carmel was shot over the day’s till money, right when we were going to meet her.”
We all agreed.
It was time to see the local park ranger and ask him if he’d seen Maria, Campbell, or Maguire. None of my calls had been returned so an ‘in person’ visit it was.
The sign on the ranger station said they were open and a bell above the door jangled as we entered the foyer, lined with historic maps and old pictures. There was a long desk and beyond that a closed door. No one came to answer the bell.
There was a name on the door, Raymond Harris.
I knocked on his office door then opened it and walked in.
“Raymond Harris?” I said, holding my badge up for him to see. “I’m SSA Conway. I left a number of urgent messages overnight.” My eyes roamed the room and spotted the flashing message light on his phone.
“Ma’am?”
“I think you’ll find you have messages from me on your phone,” I said, pointing. “You don’t check messages?”
“There was no one on last night. It’s just me and a few volunteers in the office this week, we have a lot of guided tours happening.” Harris moved papers across his desk and picked up a pencil. “How can I help?”
