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DeVere turned to Amanda. “Anything from your end?”

She shook her head. “The laptops were in my office on the other side of campus. I didn’t have time to get them.”

She opened her purse. She reached in and carefully pulled out the sheaf of loose papers she had shoved in at the lab.

”I had printed out Kennedy’s daily itinerary and was studying it at home. I brought it with me to the lab.” She rifled through them quickly.

“I lost all of 1961 and much of 1962 but I seem to have all of 1963 with me.”

“Well,” Pamela said shakily, “at least we’re all alive. Right?”

Amanda got to her feet, still groggy. She looked around. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Paul said soothingly. “We all made it.”

DeVere scrambled to his feet and stood next to Ginter. Lewis put his arms on his hips and looked around.

“Is it really… 1963?” Amanda asked.

“Looks like it to me,” Ginter said. “Those cruisers sure looked right.

“Look,” he continued, “we still don’t know where those cops went, or why they were here. We have to get inside. Get out of sight. We need to come up with a new plan. Or at least a survival plan. If we stay outside wandering around with a hundred fifty thousand dollars in a duffle bag and these IDs we’re not going to last long.”

“A hundred fifty thousand?” Pamela asked. “Noams?”

“American dollars. Money seems to be one of the few things that made it,” Paul said. He turned to Lewis. “What do we do now?”

Ginter took a deep breath, reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped through it.

“First, I’d say we stash our identifications,” Ginter said. “Anything at all. Driver’s licenses, birth certificates, social identity cards, credit cards, employee identification, all of it.

“Next, we divide up the cash in case one or more of us get busted.” Ginter gestured at the others. “A hundred fifty grand in twenties in this duffle bag is more than we can carry in our summer clothing. Good thing we have money belts. We’ll take what we can and bury the rest here. Then we have to get out of this park. We should try to check in to a hotel.”

“Where?” Amanda asked.

Lewis gestured to Paul. “You’re the native.”

“I left here when I was 18 and never returned,” deVere said. “I won’t be born in this area for another nine years.”

“When you were here, what do you remember?” Pamela asked. “Any good hotels?”

“We’re not talking about the ones you used on prom night,” Ginter said.

DeVere grimaced. “There was an old hotel downtown. Was supposedly elegant at one time. My parents talked about it. The Carpenter. It was still there in the 1980s.”

“Where is it?” Ginter asked.

DeVere pointed to the skyline. “Downtown Manchester.”

Ginter nodded. “O.K., here’s what we’ll do. We’ll work our way out of the park and take side streets. Get to this old hotel and check in using cash and our real names. Then we’ll meet in a room.”

As the others began emptying their wallets Paul reached into his back pocket. It was empty. “I don’t have my wallet,” he stammered. “It’s in my jacket back at the lab.”

“All right,” Ginter said. “Just the rest of us then.”

Pamela tossed her wallet to Ginter. Amanda opened her pocketbook, removed her wallet, and handed it to him. Lewis grabbed a fallen tree branch and broke off the side branches with his foot. He jabbed an end in the ground and dug a small hole in the topsoil. He tossed three wallets into the hole and covered them over.

When he was finished he opened the duffle bag and distributed wads of cash among the four of them without counting it out. Amanda shoved several packs into her shoulder bag. Paul and Lewis slipped wads into the money belts they took from the duffle bag. Ginter distributed the driver’s licenses.

“Sorry,” he said to Pamela, “we don’t have any ID for you.”

She shrugged. “I guess I’ll be a non-person.”

“We should split up,” Lewis said. “Paul, you and Amanda head out first and get yourselves to this Carpenter Hotel. Pamela and I will follow about half an hour later. Two separate couples might be less suspicious. We’ll meet in your room and develop a strategy.”

DeVere nodded slowly. “O.K. If I remember it right just follow this path past the quarry and then down to the street and then head down a couple of blocks to the bottom of the hill. Turn left and walk to Bridge Street. That’s a main thoroughfare. Turn right on Bridge and walk all the way to the downtown area and then turn left on Elm Street, which will lead to Merrimack Street. Right onto Merrimack Street one block to the main entrance.”

Ginter repeated the directions.

“See you later,” deVere said as he and Amanda headed down the path.

Ginter waited exactly 30 minutes before standing and slinging the duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Time to go,” he announced.

Pamela stood up and brushed off her clothes. “You really think it’s safer to travel separately?”

Lewis peered out between the tree limbs. “Absolutely.”

He stepped out of the woods and walked along the tree line down to the parking lot with Pamela at his side. They turned right at the lot’s edge and followed a path that led back into the woods. The path twisted left and headed down an incline. When it narrowed Pamela let Ginter get ahead of her. To their right lay a stone quarry filled with water. Two young boys were jumping off some rocks into the clear water.

At the bottom of the trail Lewis looked back up at a high cliff face. “I can see why they call it ‘The Ledge,” he mused.

“Tell me something,” he asked as he ducked under a tree limb, “do you remember that meeting at Lorrie Maddox’ house in Newton?”

“You mean in the rain storm?” Pamela asked.

“That’s the one. Duck your head.” With a final shove Lewis stepped out onto pavement and Pamela stumbled up against him. Lewis looked around and pointed.

“That way,” he said, and started off across the pavement, again heading down a steep hill.

“What about it?” Pamela asked, hurrying to keep up. She trotted a few steps and came abreast of him.

Lewis did not look at her. “Why was Eckleburg so suspicious?” he asked. “He seemed to think that we were crooked and that maybe Paul was funneling off money. Do you know why?”

Pamela shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t know that Dr. Eckleburg was suspicious of anyone. I thought that he just wanted to make sure that your weapon would work.” She glanced around. “Wouldn’t he love to know.”

“What about before?” Ginter asked. “What did he say before the meeting about his suspicions?”

“Dr. Eckleburg? I have no idea. I had only seen him twice before.”

Lewis started to turn to his companion but then abruptly turned back and continued walking downhill.

“Only twice before?” he asked cautiously. “How well do you know the doctor?”

“I hardly know him at all.”

Lewis walked on. Around him were an array of single-family homes with bikes and toys scattered across well manicured lawns. Most of the front doors stood open behind their screens.

“Was it Arthur then who knew Eckleburg?” Ginter asked. “Was he his main contact?”

“I guess so.”

“What was Arthur’s plan for that op in Portland?” Ginter asked. “What was that all about?”

“Op?” Pamela asked.

“The barge. Wasn’t he going to blow a barge coming into Portland Harbor, or something like that?”

“Oh, that. Actually it was a Soviet container ship. One docks every month from Murmansk filled with personal computers manufactured in Minsk. Lousy things but dirt cheap. Anyone who wanted a computer for their kid’s school work usually bought a Ludka 311.”