Chapter 23
The phone seemed never to stop ringing. Every time Archer regained his focus on whatever task was at hand, it rang again. He calmed himself down and answered it, “Vaughn here. What’cha got?”
“This is Scott, from IT, calling about the computer.”
“Yeah, Scott, good to hear from you. You get anything from it?”
“No problem. None of the files were encrypted or password protected, only the initial sign on, which took less than five minutes to break running it through the software.”
“Great. What can you tell me?”
“Looks like it served primarily as his business computer. Other than playing some online gambling games and viewing a few porn sites, there wasn’t much on it but his business files.” Scott paused, Archer could hear rapid key tapping. “There was a spreadsheet program. He used it to list and organize his active orders, the orders with the nearest shipment date sorted to appear first. He has columns for the customer number, order number, item, date paid, and ship date.”
“Ok. What else?”
“The other program he used was one for creating and maintaining databases. He kept his inventory and customer information in three separate databases. The inventory is one file, called Inventory surprisingly enough, and is a general listing of all the items, sorted alphabetically, with the number of items he had in stock, along with an expected receiving date for more on order, if there were any.”
Archer heard the mouse clicking, and Scott continued, “There are two database files for customer information. One, titled Customers, is quite long and the fields are for name, customer number, shipping address, phone number if he had it, most recent activity date, and the value of the customer’s order history. The other database is much smaller. This was titled Clients. Mr. Tyndall obviously had two distinct groups of people who made purchases from him. The Clients file is minus the customer name, address, and phone fields, but does have a Customer Number column. Maybe a privacy measure? The additional fields in this file are for item recovered, recovery location, locator, and notes.”
“That would mean, wouldn’t it, that there is a file or document somewhere that is basically the key to who the customers are? If they are only listed by number, he’d have to have the information somewhere.”
“I would think so.”
“Are you sure it isn’t somewhere on the computer?”
“I’ve checked everything and didn’t find anything that would pass for a key on the hard drive. He could have had it on a thumb drive.”
“I’ll need to follow up on that. But back to what we do have…please tell me the data is still there?” Archer held his breath unconsciously waiting for an answer.
“Oh yes, there’s still data in the fields. Want me to burn it for you or do you want me to print all of this out?” Scott asked, obviously preferring to burn a DVD with the information.”
Archer answered, “I’d like you to burn two DVDs for me. I want a backup. Can that be done soon?”
“I’ll do it right now and you’ll have them within thirty minutes, if not sooner. What do you want me to do with the laptop?”
“Send it along with the DVDs. Oh, what about the password for sign on?”
“I removed the password protection, you won’t need one.”
“Thanks, Scott, good job.”
“Not a problem.”
Archer ended the call. He stood up, paced around his office, sat back down, got up again. “Finally.” He said out loud. “Finally, something to work with.”
He got himself a soft drink and a bag of pretzels from the vending machines in the break room. Trying to make the time pass quicker until he got the DVD, he detoured through the lobby to ask the desk sergeant how things were going. It was a rare quiet night. He walked past the lock-up. The prisoners they had in the cells were just receiving their evening meal and were intent on eating. As he circled back to his office he could hear his phone ringing.
He darted in and answered from the visitor side of the desk. “Vaugh.”
“Detective Archer Vaughn? Is that who I have here?”
“Yes, whom am I speaking with?”
“Hello, Detective Vaughn, this is Wilbur Giles, from the University of Richmond.”
“Oh yes, hello Mr. Giles. What can I do for you?” Archer stretched the phone cord and leaned forward as he shuffled around the end of the desk and sat down.
“I have just had a very interesting and informative discussion with Dr. Orcenith Graham, whom I understand was in your office this morning.”
“Yes, he was.”
“I have to say that I’m impressed with the artifact you have in your possession. I believe you are aware of the national history conference we are sponsoring here at the University this week?”
“Yes, I heard about it.” Archer wondered where this was going.
“I felt compelled to contact you about the possibility of me borrowing this wonderful specimen for display here during the conference. It would fit in quite well with many of our lectures and would definitely be a major attraction for the scholars here. Finding such a unique and rare antebellum side arm is not something that happens every day.”
“I appreciate your interest, Mr. Giles, uh Professor Giles, but I’m afraid the item is in custody as evidence at this time. I can’t release it.”
“That is extraordinarily disappointing, I’m sure it would be of great historical interest to the numerous university professors gathered here for the conference. Are you certain we can’t have it on loan for even one day, say tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry Professor, it isn’t ours to lend. I appreciate your interest in it, but at this time, we can’t release it to anyone.”
“Oh dear, I understand. I was hoping otherwise, but I do understand that you need to keep it under lock and key there at the police station,” he paused, “is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I see. Well, thank you for your time Detective Vaughn, I had to try.”
“You’re welcome. Goodbye.”
Archer set the receiver down thoughtfully. After a couple minutes of reflection, he made a quick call to Eleanor to ask about any paperwork or anything that could be a flash drive which had belonged to Felix. His encouragement was dampened somewhat by the news that she had thrown away all the paperwork and ‘gadget-y things.’ They were long gone.
After another ten minutes of fidgeting, Scott appeared in the doorway with two DVDs in blue jackets and the computer. “Here you go, Detective. I hope you find something to help.”
“Great! Thanks, Scott.” Archer immediately turned the laptop on to boot up.
Scott laid a black cord on the desk, “Here’s the power cord.”
“Oh, right. Thanks.” Scott left to return to the IT Lab and Archer closed his door. The laptop was obviously not new, but before he could sit back down, he heard the familiar welcome sound. ‘And still quicker than my computer here,’ he thought to himself. The image was one of the randomly chosen ones included with the Windows system. He hadn’t personalized it at all. There were very few icons. ‘Must have been an all business kind of guy.’
Archer doubled clicked the icon for the database program. The right two-thirds of the screen listed the most recently used database files, of which there were three, along with the generic templates included with the software. He chose the first one which opened to what looked very much like a spreadsheet program but with a different set of toolbar functions than he was used to seeing. The grid that filled the screen was a mass of fields and information, some of the data was longer than the visible box. Assuming it worked in the same manner as a spread sheet, he clicked on a field where the data entered was not all visible in the box. He was able to read it at the top, or he could pull the column open wider to see more than one entry at a time.
After playing around with the program for a little while to familiarize himself, he started going through the customer information line by line.
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***
It was after eight o’clock. Archer’s eyes were dry and he had to keep blinking to clear his vision. “Time to stop for the night.” He shut down the laptop and looked at his notes.
After going through the information, it appeared that Felix was either purchasing items from relic hunters and reselling them or was working a deal to sell and share the profits. He had found a record for what he believed was the knife Tom had received from Nina. The knife had been recovered, as the database called it, in Alabama and was shipped to Virginia, to Felix Tyndall, to be sold. Felix had died after receiving it but before he could ship it. A payment was recorded for the knife in the database, a $2,500 down payment. The theory that someone felt entitled to it was accurate.
There was a customer number for the transaction in the order spreadsheets. Tom had jotted down the information from the record for the knife transaction. Customer number 106, recent order date April 7. Value of order history was zero, which means the client hadn’t purchased from Felix before, or it hadn’t been filled in. Item recovered was a braided handle side knife with scabbard, recovery location Mobile County, Alabama. In the Notes field, it said, ‘Recovered on private property with consent of owner.’ That was interesting. If that was the case, it made a difference in ownership of the item. In Alabama, anything recovered on private land with permission was the property of the one who found it. If they chose to sell it, that was their option.
He turned his attention back to his notes and savored the next bit of information. He read it several times. Locator: Morris.
Chapter 24
“What’s on the agenda for today?” Perri asked after she finished brushing her teeth in the plush bathroom. She, Nina, and Tom had just gotten back to their hotel room after breakfast.
“It’s up to you ladies today,” Tom announced. “I’ve spent all my time here doing the things I wanted to do, and if you let me pick, we’ll be going to Civil War museums, battlefields, and stuff like that.”
“Well then, if it is up to us,” Nina said quickly before Tom could change his mind, “I’m going to opt for the Canal Walk, maybe even one of the cruises?” She nodded yes to Perri to gain her support.
“That sounds great to me. It’s a beautiful day out there today and I could do with a nice long walk. I’m curious to see the area anyway, especially the James River. I haven’t seen it before.”
“Good. That’s settled.” Nina pulled her walking shoes and a pair of socks from her suitcase.
Perri casually mentioned, “I also noticed there are a couple of different ghost walks in town. We could always do that tonight, maybe after supper. You think?”
Nina threw a knowing glance at Tom. “Sure. But I know you, you’ll be disappointed if you don’t see one.”
“Now you know that isn’t true. I just like an honest scare every now and then. Finding someone who can tell a ghost story properly. These days, finding someone who can do that, or who can make a truly scary movie, is rare. Everything has to be murderous horror with axes and saws and chisels. A little overexposure and now nothing is big enough or ghastly enough to top the last show. I guess ghost stories are too blasé for people now.” She paused, “Do I sound old?”
“Yes, you do. But I agree. I’ll take a scary ghost story over a chop ‘em up any day.” Nina headed for the bathroom, “Hang on, be right back. Don’t want to have to stop as soon as we get started.”
“Good idea. I’m next,” Tom added. Then to Perri, “We’ll pick one of the ghost walks and get the start time and location, then plan on going after we eat. Let’s find a restaurant nearby. It’ll round out a full day: exercise, food, then get creeped out before going to bed in an old historic building.”
“Right up my alley and you know it.” Perri reached for her camera and made sure she had her zipped pouch of extra batteries in her purse. She put her sunglasses on and was ready to go.
The streets were busy and noisy, but the three of them enjoyed the walk through the downtown area to reach the canal near the James River. The walk was punctuated with stops to browse in a shop, get a snack from a bakery, admire a historic building, or check out a used bookstore.
Several hours later, after a canal cruise whose guide was filled with information about Richmond’s history, they strolled through a riverside park overlooking some of the James River falls and sat for a while just enjoying the sound of the water.
At Tom’s recommendation, before finding a restaurant for supper, they paid a visit to the Edgar Allen Poe Museum. Always the curious one about the places she was about to visit, Perri had done some online research about their hotel. She pointed out that Edgar Allen Poe and his brother had been adopted by a family who owned the property on which the houses were eventually built which had become the present-day hotel.
“You’re a fount of information.” Nina chuckled. “Where do you find all this stuff?”
“Various places. Online, books, brochures in hotel lobbies.” Perri sniffed the air exaggeratedly, “I take offense to your derisive tone.”
“How about a good old thump on the arm?” Nina’s eyes glinted.
“You probably would. No, I’m kidding.”
“I know you are, sweetie. You are literally too literal.”
Perri smiled, a little chagrined, “Let’s start looking for a place to eat? I’ve seen a lot of restaurants that look pretty good. Anyone want anything in particular?”
Tom’s phone rang before any responses were made. “Hello?”
They stepped out of the foot traffic on the sidewalk while Tom took the call. Nina and Perri waited, listening to Tom’s side of the conversation.
“Oh yeah? Is that right?”
“Who is it?” Nina whispered.
Tom held up a finger, not his index finger but his pinky. Nina rolled her eyes and looked to Perri for commiseration.
“Wow, that’s great! When?” He nodded as he listened.
Nina persisted, “What?”
Tom scrunched his face in her general direction. ““Hey, thanks man. Bye.”
Nina arched her eyebrows and waited expectantly. Tom ended the call and put his phone back in the holder on his belt.”
“Well??”
“Well, well, well. That was Archer. He has some news about the knife.”
“Good! What did he say?”
“Hope it’s good news.” Perri said hopefully.
“It’s a bit complicated I think, but basically he said a file recovered from Felix’s computer, the guy who had the knife in his stock, indicates that the knife was recovered in Alabama on private property with permission.”
“What does that mean?” Nina looked perplexed. “For us, what does it mean from our standpoint?”
“It basically means that, as of right now anyway, unless contradictory information comes in or someone can prove a claim against it, the knife is ours.”
Nina’s face lit up. “Oh my gosh! I never expected that.”
“Me either.” Tom was thoughtful.
“But?” Nina asked.
“But…I think I will need to display it rather than actually use it. It would be an honor to possibly wear it for a short time, like for a special occasion, but I don’t want to put its condition at risk. The thing’s over one hundred fifty years old and in fine condition. I don’t want to spoil that. It needs to be conserved.”
“I think so, too,” was Perri’s automatic response. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on the situation, it’s between you two, but I can’t help but to say I honestly feel conserving it and displaying it in a way that will prevent deterioration is the right thing to do.”
“Yeah, I see your point, both of you.” Nina acquiesced. “I do understand. I’m disappointed that you can’t use it though. You’ve been looking for one for a while and now you have to keep looking.”
Tom put his arm around Nina and hugged her as they continued to walk down the city sidewalk. “Don’t let that upset you, I’m lucky to have it! How many gu
ys have something like this, especially that their wife found for them? None that I know of, I can tell you that. Besides, I would like for you to help me pick out another one, a reproduction this time though.”
“Ok. Let’s do that after we get home. I want you to have one for the next event you go to.”
“It’s a deal, and I’ll hold you to it. Let’s not mope any longer. Let’s go find a restaurant.”
The Rook was in a low-slung building near the river’s edge. Immediately inside the entrance door was a vestibule and another set of doors. Once through the second set, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim lighting after being in the bright sunshine.
They were seated at a table covered with a linen cloth. The room was cool and very soft music played. “Are we underdressed? I feel a little underdressed.” Perri looked around trying to unobtrusively see what other patrons were wearing. She turned back to Nina, “That woman over there,” she twitched her head to her right “she’s wearing a long dress. Is there a dress code?”
Nina replied, “Well, they let us in, so I guess not.”
Tom commented, “Never fear. There’s a couple in the back who are both wearing shorts and t-shirts. I think we’re in the clear.”
Perri relaxed. “Good. Didn’t want to get tossed out on my ear for wearing capris in a formal dining room.”
The waiter brought water, menus, and retreated to give them time to decide. The three took several minutes to read through the items available.
Nina spoke first, “I’m going to try the local greens and avocado salad, then the chicken breast with mushrooms and rice.”
“I think I am going to have the blue cheese, fruit, and fresh tuna starter. I am going to have to go for chicken too, the rosemary braised chicken.” Perri folded her menu and placed it on top of Nina’s.
Buried Roots Page 13
