Crown's Vengeance, The (11 page)

They may be able to take care of themselves, but they sure as hell weren’t trained operatives. Becker was making them out to be a professional hit team.

“I appreciate your input, Mr. Becker. Now, in your opinion, are they in any way involved with an attempt to defraud Aldrich Securities?” Here Becker hesitated, the first hint of uncertainty Drake had seen. “Cat got your tongue, Mr. Becker?”

“In any professional manner, the answer is no. However, last night a call was placed from Mr. Chase’s cell phone to the private phone of an Aldrich employee, one Benjamin Flood.”

Drake bolted upright in his chair. “What was it about?”

“I wasn’t able to ascertain the details, though I did learn that both Mr. Chase and Mr. Flood incurred charges at the same restaurant last evening. I also learned that along with Ms. Carr, they all graduated from the same college together.”

“That is interesting.”

The more he heard, the more this sounded like a coincidence. They were old college friends, and it wasn’t unrealistic to assume Chase and Flood would stay in touch.

“Hopefully I’m overreacting, but just to make sure, I’d like you to tap Mr. Flood’s phone and office. Let’s listen to what he has to say for a few weeks.”

Becker nodded once before marching from the room.

If they didn’t learn anything from the taps soon, Drake would put this to bed. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. By that time, it really wouldn’t matter what Chase did.

In a few weeks, the world would be a different place.

Chapter 18

Boston, Massachusetts

The day was warm, and late afternoon sunlight streamed through the air. Brilliant green leaves rustled in a breeze blowing off Boston Harbor. Tourists and natives filled the sidewalks as their feet tapped along to the ever-present sound of engines and car horns.

Parker was oblivious to it all in the back of a taxi with Erika that was headed to Faneuil Hall.

“They just confirmed that Gordon Daniels is dead.”

“Any idea how it happened?” Erika asked, unconcerned. “He was probably old. Maybe his heart just stopped beating.”

“He was barely fifty and in great shape. People like that don’t have heart attacks for no reason.”

She turned to look out the window, her eyes on the water.

“Well, I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s terrible, I understand, but why are you so worried? Is this going to affect your business somehow?”

Parker stopped scanning the news article on his phone and stared at her.

“You’re telling me you don’t find it the least bit suspicious that the financial leaders of the United States and England both died in the same week?”

“I know the English guy was shot. That’s different than our treasurer.”

For the first time since Ben had called, she finally appeared to pay attention.

“Look, you don’t have any idea what happened to Gordon Daniels. You have to admit that the most likely explanation is he died of natural causes. Maybe he had an enlarged heart or an irregular heartbeat. No one knows. One thing you can be sure of is that some news network will scream bloody murder at the first whiff of a scandal. Even if there isn’t one, they’ll make something up to sell papers.”

She had a point.

“I guess you could be right,” Parker said. “It’s just a little too coincidental, don’t you agree?”

Her hand lay softly on his arm.

“We’ll see. In the meantime, we have our own conspiracy to worry about.”

Outside, he spotted their destination. Beautifully framed between rows of manicured hedges, Faneuil Hall Marketplace was the square’s centerpiece, situated between two other open-air markets. A steady stream of visitors flowed in and out of the buildings, every door open to take advantage of the pleasant summer day. Three stories tall, constructed of red brick, the refurbished hall looked much the same as it did when it was built in 1742.

“So would you care to tell me exactly how you plan on doing this when hundreds of people are all around?”

A hint of a smile touched her lips.

“Watch and learn.”

Inside the Hall, food vendors lined a central walking path, each one offering a tantalizing aroma. Above them, the second floor was visible, a circular path of tables and other stores set alongside the walls, as the center of the entire floor had been removed to allow an unfettered view straight to the building’s cupola far above.

“Not to rain on your parade,” he said softly, lips close to her ear, “but what if the message used to be in the middle of the room? That floor’s been gone for years.”

Erika didn’t respond, but he could tell she was worried. Her eyes flicked rapidly about as she studied the building’s layout, occasionally glancing outside.

“All right, I think I have it.” One finger extended to the far end of the Hall. “That’s east. The weathervane should be over there.” She took off at a near run, dodging between slow-moving tourists. Parker hurried after her, apologizing to an old woman Erika had knocked aside. Once outside the far door, Erika craned her neck back, looking skyward. “I was right. There it is.”

Parker looked up and saw a golden shimmer above them. The weathervane was a magnificent sight, as bright sunlight sparkled off the gilded grasshopper.

“Where do you think it is in relation to the floor?”

He took a few steps further back, tried to gauge the grasshopper’s location.

“Probably ten feet back from this edge, and another ten feet in from the side.”

They both hurried back inside and looked to their left, expecting to see a table filled with screaming children sitting atop their targeted spot. Instead they saw a rickety wooden door with the word “Private” stenciled across the front. Before he could blink, Erika stood in front of the doorway.

“Wait a second. We can’t just barge in there.”

“Watch me.”

All around them people moved through the building, none giving them a second glance. As Erika placed a tentative hand on the door, Parker prepared for the shriek of a security alarm, immediately followed by the arrival of several guards.

“You do realize there are policemen outside.”

Not fifty feet from where he stood, two officers on bikes were watching the crowds behind dark sunglasses.

“No one’s looking at us. Don’t worry.”

With a final glance around, she turned the dingy black doorknob. On squeaky hinges, the door slid open. Inside they found a small storage closet filled with cleaning supplies and other detritus. Brooms, mops, and other assorted implements of sanitation lined the walls. Several rusted chairs were stacked in one corner next to a folding table, and inexplicably, an ancient hand-operated lawn mower.

“Quit staring and get inside.” Erika pulled him in and the door flapped shut behind them. Dust filled the air, and Parker unleashed a violent sneeze. “Be quiet and start searching.”

Erika was already shifting mops and hanging buckets aside, her face inches from the dusty walls. Windowless, the room’s only light filtered in from beneath the closed door.

“It doesn’t look like this place has been used in years.” He wiped a nearby wall with one hand, which came back gray.

“I’d say that’s a good sign for us. If Revere really did put something underneath that bird, and he left it on the first floor, no one may have found it yet. And it’s unlikely Revere would have left Alexander Hamilton to stumble around in search of a hiding place. More likely, he would have left a marker behind, something to point Hamilton in the right direction.”

She had pulled out her cell phone and turned it into an impromptu flashlight. Parker did the same, the brilliant LCD beams illuminating their dirty surroundings. Dust motes filled the air as they searched the two outside walls which would have existed in Revere’s time. Every movement brought a further onslaught of the gray allergen, a light mist of dirt and debris. Ten minutes later, each of them was filthy and hot.

Parker sneezed again. “They need some air-conditioning in here.”

Erika rubbed the sweat from her face as she looked around, eyes narrow.

“These other two walls weren’t here two hundred years ago, though they look like they’re that old. The only other options are the floor or the ceiling.”

Parker’s light flashed overhead.

“Do you really think he’d hide something in the ceiling? I doubt Hamilton would be able to get in a hidden compartment easily if it’s fifteen feet above him.”

“Then the floor it is. Help me move some of this junk.”

In front of him sat the pile of folded chairs, stacked up to his chest. As he pulled on the top one, it caught. Frustrated and sweaty, Parker tugged the chair roughly. It was stuck.

“The hell with this.”

He ripped it backward. Another jerk, and the chair suddenly came loose. Parker tumbled to the floor along with the entire stack of chairs, each one clattering to the ground with a wooden crunch, taking out anything in their path. From beneath the disaster he’d just created, Parker already knew she would be pissed.

“I’m sorry, it was an accident.”

Erika’s persistent coughing was the only reply.

During the fall, he’d lost his phone. Cursing under his breath, Parker scrambled to his feet, which sent an avalanche of chairs into the space he’d recently vacated on the storeroom floor.

“Well done. Any person within a mile must know we’re inside this closet.”

In the room’s far corner, a glimmer of light poked through the detritus. Faced with the obstacle course he’d created, Parker clambered over several of the cursed chairs, banged his knee on a stray doorknob in the process.

Why in the world was an extra door stored in here?

Finally he reached his phone. Here he was surrounded by brickwork on either side. This corner was where the two original walls met, likely the very bricks set by masons when the building was originally constructed. His phone was lying on the ground, a faint aura of barely visible light. As he bent down to retrieve the device, he was forced to stretch over a tiny bench that lay upside down.

“Got you.”

Arm stretched as far as it would go, his fingers scraped the phone’s protective cover as he pulled. There were gaps between each board in the floor, which had apparently warped over the course of several hundred years. As his hand closed around the phone, the bright light illuminated where the two walls met. His eyes were drawn to the spot. Parker pushed himself up but stopped short when he focused on the bottom row of bricks.

There was a design etched in one of them. So faint he wasn’t sure it was there.

Parker leaned in closer to the wall, literally in the far corner. One hand brushed a thick layer of dust from the brick’s surface. As a mermaid shimmers into view through the water, two letters came to life before his eyes.

P R

“Erika, get over here.”

“Would you please be quiet?” she hissed. “If you keep shouting, the cops will be here in a second.”

“Get over here right now.”

Even though he whispered, she must have sensed the urgency in his voice. Fallen chairs clattered as she moved his way.

“What’s so important?”

He illuminated the two letters, his fingers tracing them as she watched. Parker looked up just as her mouth dropped open. For once, she was speechless.

“I think I know what these letters stand for.”

Her voice finally returned. “That’s a perfect clue. If anyone ever saw it, they’d think that was a builder’s mark, similar to how an artist will sign his work or a sculptor mark his creation. Revere could have easily made the insignia after the brick was in place.” Erika pushed his hands aside as she crouched down, each bare knee settling in front of the decorated brick. “Even if one of the Hall’s employees saw these marks, they wouldn’t think much of them. No wonder it’s remained hidden all these years.”

Her fingers ran over the mortar that kept the wall together.

“This material is so old it’s impossible to tell when it was laid here.”

“What do you mean? We know this place was built in 1742.”

“This building was, yes, but this particular brick? I’m betting it was dislodged about fifty years later.”

Then it hit him.

“And put back after Revere hid a message behind it.”

“Exactly.”

As they spoke, the sound of raised voices just outside the storage room became audible.

“What did Bobby do with that window kit? That darn kid couldn’t find his ass with a roadmap. If he left it in here I’ll wring his neck.”

Her dusty hands clenched his arm. “We have to hide.”

As the door handle began to turn, Parker did the only thing he could think of. He pushed her to the floor with one hand while dragging a stray chair onto his back with the other. Erika landed on her back, pinned to the ground by his weight. His nose smashed into hers, their sweat intermingling to form tiny rivers of salty dirt that dripped onto the floor, each sending a miniscule cloud of dust into the air.

“Ah, this danged place is one big mess. I’ll never find it.”

The man was now inside, his muttered words barely audible through the din that followed him through the open door. Parker couldn’t see anything except for Erika’s forehead, and had no idea if the chair on his back provided any cover.

Afraid to make a sound, he flicked his eyes overhead, silently asking if they were hidden from view. Erika shook her head, the movement so brief he felt rather than saw the motion.

They were out in plain sight.

Random objects scraped across the floor as the intruder searched through the debris.

“I can’t see a thing in here.”

Suddenly the room became brighter. A flashlight beam darted around. Parker’s lungs were on fire as he fought to hold his breath, afraid the slightest movement would reveal them. Fortunately, the man said nothing, his light apparently concentrated on the ground at his feet. Their luck didn’t hold, as seconds later Erika’s eyes bugged out, their enchanting blue color vividly sparkling under the flashlights glow.

A second voice filled the room.

“Hey, Jim, I found it. He left it over here.”