Sam smiled. “You mean Stanford stole the Meskwaki Gold Spring?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s great. But how is that going to get us any closer to finding the Meskwaki Gold Spring?”
“I have no idea, but we’re certain the wreckage of the J.F. Johnson’s going to hold the clue.”
“Why?”
“Elise has checked satellite surveillance of the region over the past six months.”
“And?”
“Nothing for most of it. But guess what ship can be seen slowing to an idle directly above the wreckage every night for the past three weeks, before returning the exact same time the next night?”
“Let me guess, a luxurious motor yacht built by Beneteau called none other than, Superior Deep?”
“Bingo.”
“So they’re storing contraband inside the wreckage. The question is, why? I mean, it’s not like its crossing the border. I know the Superior Deep never crosses the international border, because I already checked. So, what are they doing, going to the trouble of making a difficult dive, just to store something illegally?”
“I don’t know, Sam. But when you get back here, we’re going to find out.” Tom sighed. “On that subject. Did you find the Senator?”
“No.”
“I thought Elise tracked him down?”
“She tracked down the hotel where he was staying, but that’s where everything ran dry. She hacked into their security system and discovered that the Senator left his cell phone in his room.”
“Should we be worried?” Tom asked.
“Probably. His name hasn’t made the news yet, which means he probably isn’t dead — or at least, his body hasn’t yet been found.”
“How long are you going to stay there?”
“Not long. If Elise can’t track him down there’s little I can do to find him in a city of eight and half million people and rising.”
“You’ll be back tomorrow?” Tom asked.
“No. The day after. I want to visit an old friend of mine. A girl I met working as a medic in Afghanistan all those years ago.”
“An old girlfriend?”
“No. Just a good friend of mine. We like to catch up every couple of years. It’s been too long and she’s had trouble with her father’s failing health, so I wanted to go visit her. I was meant to have dinner with her tonight, but she got stuck at work. She’s promised to try and finish on time tomorrow.”
“All right, I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah, then we go and find this stolen Meskwaki Gold Spring.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Virginia knew something was wrong the moment she stepped into the plant room the next morning. The supervisor’s office overlooking the garage was standing room only with two senior ranking managers awkwardly stuffed into the tiny office, standing around the Station officer’s desk, hands resting at their waists in the universal non-confrontational stance. One of them motioned toward her presence with a look, and their conversation instantly faltered.
She accidentally glanced back in the direction of the door through which she’d entered, and fought the overwhelming urge to run for her life back through it. As though sensing her apprehension, the Station officer stepped across the threshold of his office door and beckoned to Virginia. “How are you Virginia?”
“Not bad I guess.” Getting closer she added conspiratorially. “There’s a lot of brass in your office this morning Andrew,” trying to project her usual cavalier attitude.
Andrew spoke without preamble. “Come on in and take a seat, Virginia.”
Virginia reeled with impending doom. There was a cheap Walmart chair way beyond it’s intended lifespan waiting for her. As she sat heavily she regarded the three, gray headed, gold-emblazoned uniforms that stood across from her, each wearing the same somber, downcast expression. Time passed indeterminately slowly as Virginia waited for her inevitable demise to be spelled out.
The introductions were skipped. Everyone knew who each other was. The most heavily-adorned Senior Inspector spoke first. His jaw was set hard and his eyes fixed with determination. “Virginia, there’s really no easy way to say this.”
Virginia looked to the floor between his black tactical boots. She wondered how she was going to explain the theft of one million dollars, and racked her brain to think of a way to salvage her job, dignity, credibility, everything she had worked for over her entire lifetime. She cursed herself silently. One moment’s stupidity she thought.
She tried to speak. Her voice was a dry croak. Anxiety and trepidation, jamming her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Her tongue felt glued to the inside of her mouth. Sweat trickled down her back and her face flushed. With her heart slamming in her chest she raised her face as though to the executioner for his final absolution.
“Virginia… Anton’s been killed.” The old man said.
She felt her heart stop. Somehow her worst imagined fear had been surpassed by an unimaginably more horrible reality. Anton Mercia was dead. His young, mischievous and vivacious life cut short unexpectedly.
“What happened?” she asked.
Andrew was the first to meet her eye. “We’re all very sorry. We know you were close to him.”
“But, what? How?” Virginia was now completely adrift. Confusion, guilt, shame and pure anguish washed over her like a million gallons of ocean. She pushed out short, heavy breaths for a while and stared into the middle distance as they gave their answer.
“He was driving into work early this morning and had an accident with a stolen garbage truck. He was killed instantly. Nobody’s really sure how it happened but the truck crossed over the divider and got him head on. They think maybe the other guy was drunk or something, but he left the scene before the police arrived. His body’s been identified and he’s up at County waiting for the formal from his wife.”
“Dear God!” Virginia said to herself, running her open palms across her face.
The office walls pressed in on her as anxiety took hold and threatened to strangle her. “I need some air,” Virginia said, rising unsteadily and making for the door. She made it to the exterior door of the building and leaned against the rail of the massive shutter door. She watched the traffic buzz past and idly wondered if anyone would stop her from wandering out into it. She heard the familiar shuffle of her station officer’s approach from behind. She turned to meet him. “You got any cigarettes, Andrew?” Virginia knew her supervisor had long since given up trying to quit smoking, and would certainly be holding a packet.”
“I thought you quit?”
“I did,” Virginia said, gratefully inhaling the smoke as her boss lit it up for her.
They said nothing for a time, just stood there and smoked in the door of the Fire Station. Clearly contrary to all possible regulations, both knew the gravity of the moment outweighed any possible admonishments from their superiors standing only a few feet away. “I know you two were close Virginia, real close. You want to take some days?”
Virginia paused for a moment, sucking back another deep lungful. Her disdainful words came with thick smoke streaming from her nose and mouth “No. I want to work, and then I want to drink until I forget.”
“Fair enough. Almost figured you would. There’s a single over at the 288th at Maspeth, nice guy too. You should have a pretty decent day over there. Take three-twenty-six when you’re ready, it’s right where you left it last night.”