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Only the Future is History
by Rich Lewis
***No portion of this text may be reproduced or copied without the expressed written permission of the author. If you have comment or questions please email the author. You may print a single copy of this novel for your personal enjoyment, which must be destroyed upon completion.***
CHAPTER 5
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I awoke on the couch in the dark, the panic fading, and removed myself to my bed. It seemed as if my head had just touched my pillow when the alarm went off. I was glad I'd had the sense to set it when I had moved to the bed. As tired as I now felt I probably would have slept until noon.
By the time I was showered and dressed Carolyn
was pounding on the door. The greeting I received was not one I had anticipated.
Opening the door, she stepped in and asked if I was all right. Saying that I
was, she slapped me.
"Who the hell do you think you are
Jarrett Scott?" she exploded. "Hanging up on me, twice, running around
New Mexico with the U.S. Army after you, and what the hell happened to your car.
Do you know how worried I've been about you? Just guess how much trouble the two
of us are in? Well?"
I didn't say anything for a moment. I just stood there in shock and stared at her, waiting to make sure she was done yelling. My mother had done this once, when I hadn't phoned home and stayed out all night. I had made the mistake of talking before she was done shouting, and I didn't want to repeat that here. Not that Carolyn was my mother, but she was a woman. I had never seen Carolyn this upset in the three and a half months we had worked together, and I surely did not want to see her angrier.
Carolyn threw her purse onto the couch and
sat down, still huffing and now pouting. I pulled my hand away from my stinging
face and sat down next to her. I had a million one-liners running through my
head at the moment, which brought a grin to my face. Just what the moment could
use, a little comic relief. Using my better judgment, I decided not to use any
of them.
"So what are you smiling about,?"
she asked.
"Oh nothing," I replied.
"It's good to see you."
"You know Jarrett, you could've let me
know what you were up to?"
"I know, I know. Things just happened
too fast." I got up and headed for the kitchen. "Want some
coffee?"
She followed me into the kitchen and sat at
the table. At least she was a little bit rational now. I gave her a cup of
coffee and sat down opposite of her. She continued to stare, impatiently,
waiting for me to explain everything to her.
"So, spill the beans Mr. Scott," she
demanded. So I did. I explained everything that had happened since I had last
seen her, included the freeway incident, and the Scholten's. When I had
finished, she just sat there, thinking to herself. I did however, forget to
mention Jack Mellor.
"So there is a connection?" she
asked.
"Yes, there is, only someone
doesn't want it to be made. And this cover up has been going on at least since
1962."
"So what now? With the heat you're
going to get at the Institute, it's going to be damn near impossible to work on
this."
"I know. So tell me what happened
here."
She began to explain what had happened
Monday morning. As soon as she got to work Mr. Paulson had been waiting for her.
He had repeatedly grilled her on what I was up to and why I was in New Mexico,
and not visiting my relatives in Jersey. Not satisfied with her answers, he had
stormed out, telling her to be in his office at ten.
When she entered his office, Betty
immediately ushered her in. Along with Paulson, were Erickson and McCall.
Erickson explained how the U.S. army had telephone him at home on Sunday, asking
about me. McCall was there as a material witness to the fact that she had made
copies of the project papers. After twenty minutes of questioning, both her and
McCall were told to leave. Outside of the office she said McCall had just
grinned and left, something that had irritated her greatly.
Returning to the basement she had gone to
work on the new project they had sent down the previous week. Not long
afterwards, Erickson had come down for a third round of questioning, and
informed her that when I returned that "Mr. Scott's ass" better be in
his office immediately.
Hearing her description of the beginning of
her day gave a whole new meaning to the term "Monday morning blues."
"And another thing," she said.
"When I left work last night someone was following me. I think at
least." She paused for a moment. "I guess you're not so paranoid after
all."
Thank you for that vote of
confidence Miss Williams, I thought to myself.
For the next few moments we just sat
in the kitchen and finished our coffee. I was trying to figure out what to do
next. My first priority was to get Carolyn off the hot seat. To begin with, I
did not want her getting into trouble for my actions. Secondly, if I did get
fired I would need a contact that still had access to the Institute's archives
and computer, and she was the only one I could trust. If she were to get fired
as well, I would never be able to accomplish anything. As we were sitting there,
the phone rang. I remained sitting and let it ring.
"Well, are you going to answer
it?" she asked.
"No I'm not. I turned on the machine
when I got up, just be quite and let's see who it is."
After the fourth ring the answering machine
turned on. We both sat quietly while the person on the other end left a message.
It was Detective Roebuck, saying he would like to see me at my earliest
convenience. Wonderful, I thought.
Now the police were after me as well.
Guessing home was not the place
to be, I decided to get my coat and head for the Institute. Carolyn kept
quizzing me all the way to the car about what I was going to do. I just kept
telling her I would handle it. Unfortunately I had not yet thought of what I was
going to do.
Following Carolyn to work allowed
more time for me to get my thoughts in order. It also allowed me to check out
who was trying to follow us. After slowing at a couple of streetlight, and
speeding through yellow lights, it became obvious the dark sedan following
didn't care if I knew he was there or not. The one thing I was sure of was that
it wasn't the same sedan from the freeway. It was in perfect condition, unlike
the side of the Mercury I was driving.
When Carolyn and I pulled into the
Institute parking lot the sedan was gone. It lead me to further my conclusion
that someone inside the institute would keep an eye on us here, and there was no
need for a tail. I had little doubt, due to recent events, that this someone was
one George McCall. I had never liked McCall much to begin with, and every since
Jenkins' death his nose appeared in everything.
Carolyn and I walked slowly from the
parking lot to the building entrance, neither of us saying anything. I wasn't
looking forward to the confrontation with Paulson and Erickson, and wondered if
I would be able to salvage my job. I was however anticipating having a
conversation with Mr. McCall. When
I opened the door to the building and followed Carolyn inside, I realized both
conversations were going to be put on hold for a few minutes, as Detective Roebuck
was waiting at the front desk.
Seeing us enter, he made a beeline for us.
Carolyn gave me an apprehensive look when she saw him coming. Detective Roebuck
definitely looked all business.
"Don't worry,” I whispered to
Carolyn, “ I haven't broken the law." I thought about that statement
quickly, and realized I had trespassed on military property in New Mexico.
Still, Roebuck shouldn't have anything to do with that.
"Mr. Scott," he said,
putting out his hand. "I'm detective Roebuck, New York police
department."
"Yes," I said shaking his hand.
"We met last week."
"I wonder if we could have a chat for
a few minutes, somewhere private?"
"Certainly," I answered. Carolyn
just stood there staring at me, probably wondering what was going to happen
next.
"Go ahead and check us in,"
I said to her. "Tell Paulson I'll be up as soon as I'm done speaking with
the detective.”
Nodding her head she started off for
the office, stopping briefly at the front desk. At the elevator she stopped and
glanced back at me, giving me a weak smile and a wave as the elevator doors
closed. Roebuck stood there watching her go, then turned back to me.
"Lovely lady," he said.
"Why don't we step outside for some fresh air?"
"Great," I replied,
following him back outside into the parking lot. He continued to walk along the
sidewalk around the building, not saying anything for a few moments. I wondered
exactly what Roebuck had on his mind.
"Mr. Scott," he began,
"it seems you've been quite busy the last few days."
"Um, yes," I replied. "I
took an extended weekend. Did some traveling, visiting."
"Yes I know." Roebuck stopped
walking and turned to face me. "My colleagues in Santa Fe called me late
last night. It seems you were visiting a Doctor Scholten down there."
"Scholten," I corrected him.
"Dr. Jerry Scholten. And yes I was visiting him."
I was starting to get a little
nervous. Could the New Mexico police actually think I had something to do with
the Scholten’s death? Of course my little act at their house probably did not
help their opinion of me, yet I doubted that they had been able to identify the
running man as me. I stood there staring at Roebuck, who seemed to be enjoying
himself, stringing this out as long as possible.
"Yes, Scholten. He was killed Sunday
night you know. Both he and his wife."
"Yes, I heard that on the news. I
really couldn't believe it."
"The New Mexico authorities asked me
to talk with you. They got your name from a neighbor who had talked with Mrs.
Scholten the day before they were killed."
"What do they want to know?" I
asked. Roebuck turned and started walking back towards the building entrance.
"They'd like to know what time you
left their house Sunday. They're trying to put a finger on the time of the
robbery. It seems someone entered the house and in the process of cleaning out
the Scholten's safe, the robber was discovered, and had to kill the Scholten’s."
I didn't know if Roebuck noticed, but
I let out a sigh of relief. The police did not think I had something to do with
it. Still, I knew what the thief had been after, the pictures of the cliff
dwelling. I should not have let Dr. Scholten convince me to leave a set of the
pictures with him. I tried to clear my mind of the ugly sight of the Scholten's
killings and pay attention to Roebuck's questions.
"Dr. Scholten dropped me
off at my hotel around 9 p.m. He had to return his nephews pick up, so I really
don't know when he arrived at home."
Roebuck didn't say anything for
a few steps. Stopping again, he turned to face me. "Why did you visit Dr.
Scholten, Mr. Scott?" he asked.
"I needed to talk with him about
a project I've been working on."
"Is this the same project that you
were involved in with Dave Jenkins?"
The heat to my face once again began to
return. The last thing I wanted right now was a police detective raising vocal
questions about this project. If that happened, what little chance I now had to
continue working on it would become absolutely zero. So I lied.
"No. It was a personnel project I've
been working on. Dr. Scholten had some previous experience with it."
"Um," he said, and stood there
contemplating my answer for a moment. Putting
his hands behind his back he began to walk back towards the main parking lot and
the building entrance. "I see you had a little fender bender Mr. Scott.
When did that take place?"
"Oh, about three weeks ago," I
lied again. It was becoming easier. I continued to walk with Detective Roebuck,
but neither of us said anything until we approached the entrance door. Again he
stopped and faced me. I hoped there would not be too many more questions. I did
not enjoy having to lie to a police detective.
"Well Mr. Scott. That's about all for
now. I might want to talk to you later."
"Fine," I replied.
"Detective, what have you found out about Dave Jenkins death?"
"It's still being listed as a suicide." He paused for a moment. "I'll be honest with you Mr. Scott. Something doesn't fit there though. I can't put my finger on it, but I will. Please let me know if you decide to leave town again.
I'd like to know where to find
you if I wish to speak with you. Have a good day." Finished with our
discussion, Roebuck turned and headed for the parking lot and his car.
For some reason I detected a hint of
sarcasm in Roebuck's voice when he wished me a good day. He climbed in the car
and quickly pulled away. I was very confused at the moment. I would have liked
nothing more than to explain everything that had happened in the last two weeks,
but what good would it do? I really didn't know why Jenkins had died, or exactly
what the robber was after at the Scholten’s, or why someone had run me off the
road. I really did not have any proof of anything. Not anything I could prove,
or worse, anything the police would believe.
I also realized something else as I turned
and reentered the building. I really did not have any way to determine who I
could trust. Beyond Carolyn, anyone else could be involved in trying to stop my
investigation into the Linear A connections. Anyone could have thrown Jenkins
out the window, or ordered the Scholten's deaths. Who could I trust? Jack
Mellor?
Back inside the Institute
building, I first went to the basement to get myself in order. Carolyn was
sitting at her desk scratching away at her notebook. When I came in she looked
up, her eyes questioning me.
"Don't worry," I said to
her, taking off my jacket and sitting at my desk. "He just wanted a little
talk. Honest, I haven't done anything."
She did not offer any response, but
went back to work. I could tell she was still worried, and a little upset,
knowing I had held out on her. I had the feeling Carolyn thought we were in way
above our heads. She was scared. Actually, I didn't blame her a bit. I was
pretty scared myself.
"You better see Paulson,"
she said, not looking up from her work. "He's gonna get real pissed if he
finds out you're here and haven't gone up to see him."
"I know, I know," I replied.
"Might as well face the music." I
got up and turned to head for the elevator.
"If you're a good boy," she
called after me, "I've got a little surprise when you get back."
I turned and looked at her sitting at her desk, trying to fake a smile
for me.
"Don't you mean if I get back," I
said as I entered the elevator. The
doors closed, and I began to feel a little nervous. I was never very good at
being chewed out, and I wasn't looking forward to the chewing I was about to
receive. I had taken a chance in going to New Mexico, and now as far as my job
was concerned, it was time to pay up.
Betty greeted me as usual, smiling and
happy. Some things never changed. I still could not remember a day when I had
ever seen her in a grumpy mood. She quickly called Paulson, and ushered me into
his office.
Paulson was sitting behind his desk,
with his best mad face on. For the moment I thought things were looking up a
little since Erickson wasn't here. Paulson just did not have the heart to be too
cruel, at least that's what I was counting on.
"Sit
down Jarrett," he said, still staring at me. He sat there for what seemed
like eternity just staring, twirling a pen in his fingertips. Putting the pen
down, he leaned forward on his desk.
"Jarrett, I hope you understand the
trouble you're in right now. I spent all day yesterday with Erickson trying to
keep him from firing you." Paulson stood up and began pacing, his voice
becoming louder.
"What the hell's the matter with you?
I've never seen you behave like this. You had a direct order to cease work on
the project and turn in all materials concerning it. That of course includes
copies."
He turned and leaned on his desk,
staring right into my eyes. "Copies which you made after you were told to
quit the project. Then you fly off to New Mexico, leaving the number of some
friend in New Jersey, and get picked up by the military police."
He stopped for the moment, his last words
almost yelling, and turned to look out the window. He stood there for a few
moments, not saying anything, as if searching for the right words to say, or
simply trying to regain his composure. I tried to brace myself for what might
come next. If he fired me, it would be almost impossible to continue; yet he had
just said he had talked Erickson out of firing me. I might get through this
after all without losing my job. Slowly he turned back towards me.
"Look Jarrett. If you had just
let things alone you probably would've had your project back in a couple of
weeks. You're going to be lucky to stay employed for that long now. Jesus you
should have seen how hot Erickson was yesterday."
I didn't say anything as
Paulson sat back down at his desk. I had never seen John Paulson so upset in the
three years I had worked here.
"This is the way it is Jarrett,"
he began. "You're to take a couple of weeks of, with pay. During that time
Erickson's going to decide what to do with you. In the meantime, try to keep
your nose clean, and stay off this project. Understand?"
"I understand," I replied.
"Fine."
Paulson leaned back in his chair, playing with the pen again.
"I don't have to tell you this hasn't helped your career here, do
I?"
"No, you don't." I
couldn't think of anything to say, at least anything Paulson would want to hear
right now. If he only understood what a discovery like the one I was on the
verge of would do for my career, he might understand. I was still wondering the
effect on my life as well with people tailing and threatening me.
"Okay. Just take a couple of
weeks off, lay low. I'll see what I can do with Erickson."
"Thanks," I said, getting
up from the chair. I turned to leave and Paulson called one more time.
"Jarrett, make sure you leave
this alone for awhile. I don't know why Erickson is so pissed about this, but
believe me, he is."
"Okay boss," I said,
opening the door to leave. "I'll be a good boy."
Paulson had nothing else to say. I
closed the door, and said goodbye to the ever-smiling Betty, and headed back
downstairs. I now had two people on my watch list. The first was George McCall.
His actions of late added to my already poor judgment of him. The other was
Wayne Erickson. There had to be some reason why he was so adamant about this
project being closed down.
My final thought as the elevator
doors opened to the basement was that there was no way I was going to stop now.
I knew in the end it was going to cost me my job, but there was more at stake
than that. I was sure three people had been killed already because of this,
which was the only evidence I needed to prove this was something big. Something
I was not going to back down from.
I sat back down at my desk and began
packing a few things out of my desk when Carolyn returned from the archives. She
had an ashen look on her face when she saw me going through my desk, and just
stood there staring. Before she broke into tears I spoke up.
"Don't worry Miss Williams, I haven't been
fired, yet. Just given a little mandatory vacation."
"Mandatory vacation," she said, coming
over to my desk and sitting on the corner. "What the hell is that suppose
to mean?"
"It's Erickson’s way of telling me I
screwed up, and now I have to go to my room and think about it."
"Jarrett, maybe we better cool off on
this thing? This is really starting to cost heavy."
"More than you can
imagine," I said. I sat back in my chair and thought for a moment.
"Carolyn, there's something
really big about this. Someone is going to a lot of trouble to stop me from
working on it. I just can't stop now."
"Yeah," she said, "I
figured you'd say something like that." She didn't seem real thrilled at
the prospect of my continuing, but my loyal partner was still willing to help.
"I'm just worried about you, that's all."
I could tell Carolyn's feelings were genuine.
Given other circumstances I would have liked to have spent some time with her.
The more I got to know her the more I liked her. Still, what I wanted now was as
much distance between us as possible. I didn't want anything to happen to her
because of my bullheadedness.
"So," she said, perking up, "are
you ready for your surprise?"
"I'd almost forgot. What is it?"
"Oh, impatient are we?" she said,
getting up and going to her desk. She opened a drawer and returned with a piece
of paper. "When you left last
Friday, I was a bad girl. I ran one more check on that picture of the cave
drawing in Tibet."
"Oh, you are naughty Miss
Williams," I said, grabbing for the paper. She pulled it back out of my
reach and smiled.
"This is going to cost you an
expensive dinner Mr. Scott."
"Great," I said, growing
impatient, "if it's going to cost me, can I at least see what I'm
getting?"
"Sure you can," she said,
handing me the paper. "I found another picture of the cave drawing,
unfortunately it's in London."
"London?" I said,
raising my eyebrows in surprise. "Why is it in London?"
"A friend of mine found a
picture of the cave in their archives, at the London Historical Archives. The
bad thing is, they can't send the book; it's too old and valuable. They won't
let it out of their sight."
"They couldn't just send a
picture," I asked.
"I'm sure they could Jarrett,
but it's kind of hard to request something out of the London Historical Archives
without getting us into a little more trouble. Paulson would come unglued, not
to mention what Erickson would do."
She was right, as usual. There was no
way we could issue an official request to London without Paulson's approval, and
Erickson's knowledge. The only way to get the information was to go there.
"Well it just so happens that I
have some spare time on my hands. Maybe I'll jet off to London for a week.
Always wanted to visit Big Ben."
Carolyn giggled, and returned to her desk.
I finished packing and got ready to leave. Carolyn came over to see me off, and
walked me to the elevator.
"You make sure you're careful Mr.
Scott," she said as I entered the elevator. To my huge surprise she kissed
me on the cheek, and stepped out of the elevator. "Make sure you call me
for that dinner."
The elevator doors closed, leaving me
standing there in shock. I grinned as I thought Carolyn had probably enjoyed
watching the elevator doors close with me standing there looking totally
confused, my mouth hanging open. There just was no way to figure out women.
I returned home from the Institute,
figuring to catch a quick nap. I had plenty of time until my meeting with Jack
Mellor, but a lot of plans had to be made. I also wanted to see if the negatives
of the pictures from New Mexico had arrived yet. I didn't pay much attention to
see if anyone was following me back to my apartment, still thinking about the
kiss Carolyn had given me. I cussed at myself for acting like a teenager. I came
to the conclusion that I had enough problems to deal with right now without
adding romance to them.
I stopped at my mailbox
and picked up the mail. Fortunately the negatives I had mailed myself were
there. I was not however prepared for what I found when I entered my apartment.
The place was a disaster. The entire apartment had been torn up. Everything that
I owned had been turned over, tore apart, and even shredded. I knew exactly what
they had been searching for and headed immediately for the bedroom. They had
found it.
The envelope of the pictures I
had brought back with me were gone. I was proud of myself for having the
foresight of making several copies of them, but disgusted with myself for
leaving that set here in my apartment. I was too big of an amateur to go around
patting myself on the back for being clever. I was going to have to start using
my head a little bit more. The mess in my apartment gave me a good scare, one I
probably needed. I was going to have to start thinking, and staying a step ahead
of whomever was trying to stop me.
Leaving the mess, I headed back for my car.
The first thing I had to do was get the set of negatives I had to someplace
secure. The only thing I could think of was to put them in a safe deposit box. I
drove to the bank, convinced I had not been followed, and rented a box. Along
with my name, I put down one Jack Mellor. If anyone knew how to hide these
pictures and hang onto them, he would. I just hoped whoever had ransacked my
apartment didn’t have enough clout to get inside the bank.
By the time I finished at the bank
and returned to my apartment it was almost three o'clock. I called Gary Nelson
again, and begged for another favor, which he politely granted. Having arranged
a ticket to London for the next day, I spent the next three hours trying to
restore order to the apartment, and then took a little nap. I awoke at eight,
and showered and dressed for my appointment. At nine I left the house, spending
about an hour driving around New York, making sure no one was following me.
Convinced I was alone, I headed for the restaurant, and my meeting with Jack
Mellor.
The Cafe de Paris was a small, quite
restaurant, tucked away downtown. It was a little dark inside, just the kind of
place I would expect Mellor to pick. I went inside and was seated towards the
back of the restaurant. I ordered a drink, and waited.
Precisely at ten o'clock Jack Mellor
entered the restaurant, but I never saw from where. I was sure he had not come
through the front door. He quickly noticed me and casually moved through the
restaurant towards my table. He sat and said nothing as the waiter approached.
Ordering a drink, he turned and waited until the waiter was out of earshot
before speaking.
"I don't have much time," he
said. "There are a few people out looking for me tonight."
"Don't worry," I replied,” I
wasn't followed."
"Oh but you were Mr. Scott. I picked
you up when you left your apartment, and helped your tail lose you."
"What do you mean my tail?” I asked,
staring to resent Mr. Mellor just as I had in New Mexico.
"Just what I said. At least you were
smart enough to leave early. Took me another half hour for me to shake
him."
"I'm sorry," I said, somewhat
disappointed at my attempt to arrive at the restaurant safely.
"Don't worry about it. You're new at
this. Unfortunately, you don't have time to learn. Just remember, there's
usually more than one car involved in a tail. You have to lose them both."
The waiter returned with Mellor's drink,
and we both sat back, saying nothing. Waving off any menus, the waiter gave us a
sour look and left.
"Like I said," Mellor
spoke, "I only have a few minutes. "
"Fine," I interrupted him,
"there's a lot I need to know, and say. First, here's a key to a safe
deposit box, First Bank on 5th avenue." I handed him the key and he quickly
tucked it away in his pocket. " It contains some negatives of some pictures
from New Mexico. Someone tore my apartment apart and got the pictures I had, and
I have no doubt they have Scholten's copies as well."
"Well at least you made more
than one copy. One point for you." I
sat for a moment, relishing the compliment. "Don't let it go to your head
Mr. Scott."
"Don't worry," I shot back,
"I won't. Now, tell me who you are."
"I can't be very precise I'm afraid. I
represent a group of men who are very interested in your current project. They,
or we've been trying to piece this together for over thirty-five years, since
the New Mexico project."
"So tell me what I'm on to," I broke in
again. "Give me some direction."
"Look Scott, if I told you
everything we know, you wouldn't believe me, besides the fact we're not even
sure we know the whole truth. Anyway, you have to go it alone."
"What do you mean alone. If there's
others, why can't you help.”? I was beginning to become somewhat frustrated at
this conversation. It seemed I was to remain all alone.
"It was decided we can't
influence your investigation. Like I said, you wouldn't believe me anyway.
Besides, if you did know, you would skip a few steps."
"What do you mean skip a few
steps?" I was beginning to become angry.
"Just what I said. Look, we know the
truth, or what we think is the truth. We just don't have any way of proving it.
You have to do it. You've gotten farther than anyone else. We've been trying to
get proof for thirty-five years and have come up empty. You have to get the
proof."
I sat back and thought for a moment. Mellor
was not much over thirty-five himself, making this a second-generation
organization. Thirty-five years! Whatever I was into it was big, and had been
going on a long time. This was not shaping up like I had hoped. Coming to this
meeting I had hoped for some assistance, not someone else telling me I was on my
own.
So what do I do with this proof when
I get it?" I asked.
"Just get it in a safe deposit
box, like the pictures. When we get it all, then we'll step in and make sure
people see it."
"Wonderful," I said. "People
are trying to kill me, and I'm suppose to do the work, and your people will step
in for the grand finale." I sat back in my chair, disgusted with Jack
Mellor and his organization.
"Look Jarrett, right now anyway, no
one’s trying to kill you, or you’d be dead. Anyway, that's the way it is.
You're building a legal case, something that has to stand up in a court. If we
go influencing what you know, it won't be sound from the bottom up."
"Great," I said, staring to
get up. "This has been so much help."
Mellor reached out and grabbed my
arm; looking up at me he spoke. "Jarrett, you have to do this. You can't
imagine how important this is."
"I realize Mr. Mellor. Three people
have been killed, and I'm guessing I’m next on their hit parade. I realize,
believe me."
Mellor stood up to face me, reaching
out his hand. Instinctively I reached out mine to shake it. When our hands met,
I noticed a piece of paper there.
"Here are two names. One's in
Paris, the other on Crete. If you need help, contact them. There will be others
from time to time, watching you."
"So how do I tell the bad guys from
the good guys?” I asked, releasing his hand and slipping the paper into my
pocket.
"They'll mention this place, and they
won't try to blow your head off," he said, almost smiling. I didn't find
the thought that amusing. "You're
leaving for London in the morning right?"
"Right," I answered. "So do you
want to tell me how you knew that?"
"Not really," he said, smiling
again. "We have ways. Just remember, so do they."
"Fine, I got it. I'm on my own, you
won't help, except a few mysterious names, and you've succeeded in scaring the
shit out of me. I guess we're through."
"Yeah, I guess we are. I'll be around
until you leave for London, so rest easy. They won't try anything tonight."
"Hey, that makes me feel a whole lot
better." I turned and headed for the door, then stopped, returning to face
Mellor. "One more thing, Carolyn Williams."
"We already have someone watching her.
Don't worry, its you they're after."
I grumbled an acceptance of that fact and
turned for the door. At the entrance I turned to look back, and Mellor was
already gone. Christ, I thought to myself, this is worse than a James Bond
movie.
Getting back to my car, I decided to head
straight back to my apartment. If Mr. Mellor and his boys were on the job
tonight, let them take care of the bad guys. I needed some sleep, and I had the
feeling I was going to be missing a lot in the next few days.
*
*
* *
The next morning I rose early and headed
for the airport. The flight Gary had booked me on left at nine-thirty. I was
going to make damn sure no one followed me this time. Remembering Mellor's
advice I watched for two cars this time, and sure enough, I spotted the tail. It
took me well over an hour in downtown traffic to finally lose them. I wondered
if that had been the good guys, or the bad guys. I chuckled at the thought that
maybe I had lost Mellor himself. I spent an extra half hour driving around just
to make sure no one was following, and then headed for the airport.
About half way there I realized it was
about to make another disastrous mistake. If I left my car at the airport, it
would lessen the time they would need to find me. I had no doubt they would, but
the longer I could delay the slightly larger chance I would have.
Turning off the freeway I headed back to town and found a perking garage.
After paying the attendant, I hailed a taxi and headed for the airport, almost
out of time to make my flight.
The terminal was pretty crowded this
morning. Score one for me. A lot of Wednesday business flyers. I checked my bag
through, watched it as it disappeared on the conveyor belt that I had made
another mistake. I started for the gate and decided to call Carolyn and let her
know I was leaving. If I kept it short no one would be able to trace the call.
Right? It was a chance I was going to take. As I picked up the phone I heard the
second boarding call for the flight.
The switchboard operator at the Institute
answered, and I asked for Carolyn. A quick second later she answered.
“Carolyn Williams,” she answered.
“Hi, it’s me,” I said.
“Jesus”, she almost creamed into the phone. “Have you left yet?”
“Almost”, I murmured.
“Roebuck has been here this morning. Detective Roebuck. Says he wants
to talk to you.”
Wonderful. Score one for them. What now? I was not about to hang around and find out.
“I’m leaving in five minutes. He’ll have to wait.”
“He didn’t make it sound like a request Jarrett.” Carolyn’s voice
hinted of genuine concern. “There’s been another murder Jarrett, someone you
know.” She stopped talking, the silence echoed. Any noise from the terminal
was lost in the moment.
“Are you there,” she whispered.
“Yeah, I’m here. Did he say who?” I paused, not really wanting to
know who.
“Did you know someone named Gary Nelson?”
“Oh God,” I moaned. Stunned, I couldn’t find words. Panic welled
within.
“Did you hear me Jarrett? Roebuck
said they found an envelope sent from New Mexico with your name on it.”
My head was swimming, almost as bad as when I’d walked into
Scholten’s. I began to nervously look around, paranoia growing rapidly. I
wanted to drop the phone and run. How could I have been so stupid? So out of
touch with reality. I was an amateur at this. All alone. Someone had killed Gary
because he had the pictures. My stupidity had killed.
“Jarrett, are you there? Are you alright?,” Carolyn asked.
“No, I’m not alright, “ I hissed. The last boarding call sounded.
Panic was turning to anger. I was in way over my head. Jack Mellor wanted to
play spy games. Detective Roebuck wanted a collar. I wanted out.
“Jarrett god dam you, say something”, Carolyn growled into the phone.
“I’m here, but I have to go. My flight’s boarding.”
“Is this connected to what we’re doing,” she asked.
“To what I’m doing Carolyn, got that. To what I’m doing. You’re
out. I got Gary involved and he’s dead. I’m not making that mistake with
you.” Silence again. “I have to go.”
“Jarrett,” she whispered, “please be careful.”
“I will Carolyn, I will.”
I replaced the phone and picked up my travel bag. Turning towards the gate I noticed two police officers. Maybe I wasn’t going to London. Were they here for me? I turned back to the phone for a second, watching out of the corner of my eye. The closest officer glanced over me and continued on. I turned and tried to act like a typical businessman trying to make a last minute flight and headed for the gate. I didn’t think anyone was watching
Once on the airplane I began to relax, a little anyway. I tried to wipe
the sweat off my face. It seemed extremely hot. This was getting to be way too
much for me. It was only now starting to dawn on me that these people played for
keeps and I could be next. I racked my brain but could not find a way out.
The stewardess was quick to see to everyone’s demands once we were
airborne and steady. I asked for a drink, with alcohol. She provided it quickly,
a slightly puzzled and disapproving look. God, how long had it been since I’d
started drinking before ten a.m.
I finished the drink and sat back in my chair, again contemplating what I
was doing. I cam to the conclusion I had no frickin’ idea. It was one thing to
go against the boss and play detective but things were getting out of hand. Dave
Jenkins had been with me when we didn’t understand what we were in to. Mr.
Scholten had known the risks. Gary Nelson had known nothing. He had simply gone
out of his way to help a friend, and he was dead. They were playing for keeps. I
had been extremely luck, and they were done playing. I was going to have to
figure this out quick, or it would be over. There wouldn’t be anymore car
bumps, or ransacking the apartment. Next time I would be dead.
I dozed. My mind whirled, I talked myself into a million corners. I knew I needed to sleep. Every kid reads war books, and knows you sleep whenever the opportunity presents itself. I needed sleep. I was in combat. Now I just had to figure out who the enemy was.
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18 Dec 2001