H.J. Gaudreau - Betrayal in the Louvre (10 page)

Chapter 15

I

After a quick lunch, Jim and Eve thanked Jean for the education, reluctantly handed over the tube and said their goodbyes.  Jean promised them a full report within two weeks.  They all suspected it would be sooner since they were all excited about this find.  The return drive from Montreal seemed to take forever.  Seven hours later they had all the traveling they could take for the day.  Eve spotted an acceptable hotel outside of Toronto and they quickly were checked in, unpacked, and in search of a nice restaurant.  Eventually they settled on a small steak house. 

Taking their seats in a booth Jim looked over the menu; put it down and began to examine the parking lot outside their window.  Soon their food arrived and Eve attempted to make small talk.  Jim only half heartily participated in the conversation and concentrated on his food.  After the waiter took their plates he took off his ring, absently began to twirl in on his finger and returned his gaze to the parking lot.

“You’ve got something on your mind, and I’m guessing I’m not going to like it,” she said.   

Jim smiled.  “Yeah, can’t hide it from you.  I’m pretty subtle that way.”

“I’ve got a few years practice reading that face,” she reminded him.

“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about what we’ve seen and learned this past several days.  Jean made some pretty startling claims.  And, the conclusion is pretty awesome.  If the Patent is part of the regalia, and the regalia is always together…” 

“And Jean says they were,” interjected Eve.

“I’m saying if they’re always together, why wasn’t the regalia found when my Great grandfather found the Patent?” Jim was now pointing his desert fork at Eve.

“Well, maybe he didn’t look very hard.  It was during a war.  He might have been a little busy.  And I hope that fork isn’t loaded,” Eve said with a smile and a bite of her cherry pie.

“I wonder if we can find exactly where he found the Patent,” Jim mused. 

“How would we do that?”

“I don’t know.  That’s what I’ve been thinking about this past hour or more.  We would have to know where his unit was fighting and exactly where he was when he found the Patent.  It’s really impossible.  I mean, he could have just been doing his laundry and there it was or he could have been digging a trench and discovered it.  There’s just no way that kind of thing would show up in some record.” 

After a moment of silence Eve said, “We know your great grandfather’s unit right?” 

“Yes,” said Jim.

“Well, can’t we find out where they fought?  Wouldn’t that tell us at least where he was?”

“No, history books only tell where the units were during major events.  Sometimes they’ll describe specific movements, but it rarely gets down to the unit level.  It might help a little, but we wouldn’t find a passage that said ‘Oushel Crenshaw found an ivory tube beneath the big tree at the corner of this and that road’ or anything like that,” Jim explained.  “The best a history book might say is this company attacked that town, but I’m not even sure it would get to that level of detail.”

“Oh,….that’s not a big help is it?” She looked a bit crestfallen.

“No, not a big help, but not a bad idea,” Jim said, “We should definitely read the battle history of the Red Arrow Division.  It will at least give us an appreciation, and maybe a starting place.”

“The Red Arrow Division?  What’s that?” Eve asked.

“That was the name of his division; well, the real name was the 32ed Infantry Division but they were known as the Red Arrow Division.  The French called them ‘Less Terribles’.” 

Eve laughed.  “Your french accent is terrible!  It’s ‘Les Terriblies’.”  Then, “Why the terribles?” 

Jim grinned.  “French isn’t my strong point, ya got me.  Anyway, apparently they were terrible, in a good way.  They were never defeated, and they broke every German line they were sent against.  Even the shoulder patch was changed, from a red arrow to a line shot through with a red arrow.  I guess it’s supposed to symbolize the fact that the 32nd Division penetrated every German line of defense that it faced during World War I.  They were a pretty tough bunch of guys.  I’ve read a little bit about them, and I’m pretty impressed.”

“Well,” Eve said, “I guess we’re going to learn a whole bunch more about the Red Legged Division.”

“Oh my God, RED AAROW Division,” Jim cried.

“That’s what I said.” She quickly shot back and grinned.

II

Jim and Eve’s driveway was fairly long and extended some one-hundred yards from the road to the house.  On both sides sat corn fields so that, to an airplane overhead, the house, barn and equipment shed looked as if they sat on a small green island in the middle of a large yellow splash of corn.  This year the weather had been just right.  The corn stood eight feet tall and was a pleasant dry yellow colour.  Their farm wasn’t their primary source of income, more of a secondary source and an homage to the land they owned.  Jim parked in the garage, went to the back of the Jeep and lifted the door.  Eve opened the dog cage and put a leash on Molly.  Meanwhile Jim opened the door to the house and walked in. 

He immediately turned to punch his code into the house alarm then stopped.  There was no beeping. 

“Eve, we forgot to put the alarm on,” he called.  Then he thought about what he’d just said.  Even if they had forgotten to put the alarm on it should have beeped.  He examined the alarm pad.  The face was dark, no lit number telling him the door to the garage was open.  He closed the door and reset the alarm.  Nothing. 

“Eve, the alarm doesn’t work,” Jim called.  “We’ll have to get that fixed.  I’ll call the alarm company first thing tomorrow.”

By this time Eve was in their bedroom and had placed the few things she’d bought in Montreal on the bed.  She then unpacked her suitcase, putting the dirty clothes in the hamper and the clean cloths she’d not used back in their proper places.  She stopped.  Her bottom bureau drawer was slightly open.  She couldn’t remember leaving that drawer open, and it was not like her to leave things open.  That, and an alarm not working, made her uneasy. 

She went to the closet.  Eve kept a neat closet, skirts, pants and blouses lined up.  They were crowded to one end of the clothes rod.  She turned to Jim’s side of the closet, always a bit messier than her side.  He’d left a pair of boots in the middle of the floor when they left, she remembered because she had stumbled over them on the way out and they’d had a word or two about his messy habits.  He had made a show of standing them up beneath the hanging dress pants before they left.  The boots were now lying on their sides next to his other shoes. 

“Jim, come take a look at this.”  Jim could sense a bit of urgency in her voice.  He hurried into the bedroom.  Eve went to her bureau and pointed.  The bottom drawer was open about a half inch.  “I don’t remember doing that,” she said. 

She then went to the closet.  “My clothes aren’t where I left them, and…”  She pointed at his boots.  “…didn’t you stand those up over there?” she asked as she pointed. 

Jim looked concerned, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did.” 

They began a search of the house.  The first thing Eve checked was her jewelry.  It all seemed to be there.  Jim checked the garage, all his tools and power equipment was there. 

Jim checked behind the back door.  His .22 rifle was standing there.  Like many farmers Jim kept the little rifle handy.  Rats, woodchucks, coyotes and other critters are common on a farm and were not welcome. 

They checked all the cabinets, several items were out of place, but nothing seemed to have been taken.  They went upstairs.  Their son now lived in the city.  His room had been turned into a guest room and re-carpeted with a short pile carpet just two weeks ago.  Eve had vacuumed the day before they left for Montreal.  The nap of the carpet stood tall where the vacuum had lifted it.  In the carpet they could see footsteps.

Eve looked at Jim.  “I vacuumed in here before we left.  Someone walked around this room.” 

They examined the rest of the upstairs.  Nothing was missing. 

They went downstairs.  At this point Jim thought they may have surprised a thief.  He was worried the intruder was in the basement.  He stopped on the top step, went to the back door and grabbed the rifle.  They descended the basement steps.  The television was there.  The bar in the corner looked undisturbed.  The laundry room looked normal.  There was no one in the furnace room. 

They opened the door to the utility room and turned on the light.  Jim and Eve used the utility room as a sort of hobby room.  She kept her spare quilting material in plastic bins in the corner.  She also had several boxes of items she used at school in bins marked “Reading”, “Math” or “Science”.  Jim kept his hunting and fishing equipment here.  In the corner stood a gun safe.  The safe was six feet tall, made of high-density steel and supposedly impervious to intrusion.  That wasn’t true.  Someone had retrieved the torch from the barn and cut the hinges off of the safe door.  It now lay on the floor in front of the safe.  Inside, Jim’s two hunting rifles and three shotguns stood proudly in their places.  The drawers were all open, nothing was missing.

Chapter 16

I

The Michigan State Police force is a well-respected state organization.  Its officers are considered professional, competent and generally held in high regard by the public.  But, as is typical of public service organizations, it is chronically undermanned.  In rural areas taking a report on a breaking and entering is low on the priority list. 

Officer Ryan Harris arrived about two hours after Eve phoned the State Police post.  He walked through the house with Jim and Eve.  He examined the footprints in the carpet.  Then began to try to find fingerprints.  He dusted several glass surfaces with no success.  He went to the basement and dusted the gun safe.  Again, without success.  Both he and Jim went to the barn where Jim kept his cutting torch.  There were no surfaces likely to hold a fingerprint, but they did search the barn and the equipment shed.  Nothing other than the torch had been moved.  The intruder had left footprints in the dirt floor of both buildings.  Officer Harris photographed them and made a plaster of Paris mold.  He did not hold out much hope of finding the intruder however. 

“Mr. Crenshaw, I would say someone definitely searched your house and barns looking for something,” Harris said as they walked back to the house.  “But, I can’t imagine what it was they were looking for.  And, I cannot explain why they would take the trouble to cut off the door of your gun safe and not remove the guns.”  He paused, stopped and looked at Jim.  “You didn’t keep anything in there that you shouldn’t did you?  Is there anything you haven’t told me?”

Jim looked at the young trooper.  “Officer Harris, you’re exactly right to be asking that kind of question.”  Jim pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed his retired military ID card to the man.  “But, I spent most of my life serving this country honorably.  I wouldn’t disgrace myself now after all those years.” 

Ryan glanced at the I.D. card.  His eyes widened a bit when he saw Jim was a retired, bird Colonel.  “No sir, I bet you wouldn’t,” was all Harris said.

They opened the back door, and Eve insisted they sit at the table.  She poured three cups of coffee and Ryan began filling out his paperwork.  He started by asking the routine questions: when did you leave home, who knew you were going, full name and address, etcetera, etcetera.  Finally, he said, “Do you have a home burglar alarm?” 

“Yes, but the battery is dead, its not working,” Eve replied.

Jim leaned forward, “But….damn, I didn’t think about this earlier.  It should have beeped last week to tell us the battery was low.  It didn’t, I wonder…”

“The battery shouldn’t have made a difference.  Usually they’re just back up for power outages.  Let’s take a look at that control panel,” Officer Harris said. 

The three of them went to the garage and Jim opened the control panel.  He pressed in a code and attempted to arm the system.  It didn’t work.  They checked the backup battery.  Jim’s voltage meter showed it fully charged. 

Then they went to the exterior phone box on the wall outside the garage.  There a series of new wires were attached to the phone cable.  Officer Harris was the first to speak.  “That looks like a very professional job.”  The telephone wire and alarm company cable were spliced.  A nine-volt battery supplied power to a small black box with two wires attached to clips.  The clips went to the alarm cable and the telephone cable.  “Mr. and Mrs. Crenshaw, someone knew an awful lot about burglar systems; this thing has been by-passed.”

Jim and Eve could only stare. 

II

That evening was a tense one.  Jim ensured all the doors and windows were locked.  They tried to watch television, but couldn’t get interested in any of their favorite shows.  They tried a game of cards but that didn’t last long.  Finally Jim put voice to what they were both thinking.  “Someone searched our house looking for something very specific.”

“I know, and we both think we know what it is they were looking for don’t we?” Eve said.

“Do you remember what Bill Rousseau said to us?”  Jim asked. 

“No.  Well, wait…didn’t he say something about being careful?” Eve stared at Jim. 

“Yup.  He said people will pay a lot of money for the Patent and the tube.  He said we’d better be careful with it.”  Jim put down his cards, scooped up the pile on the table and started to put them back in the box. 

“Hey, I would have won you know.”  She objected, but it was just for show.  “We didn’t even have the tube here.  Why would anyone be searching for it in our house?

“Well, they didn’t know we didn’t have it in the house.  They probably thought they could snag it and sell it for a lot of money,” Jim said.

They both grew quite.  Finally, Eve said, “How are we going to find where your Great grandfather found the tube?”

“I’m not really certain, but I think I know where to start,” he said.  “I’m going to learn everything I can about my great grandfather and his unit.” 

“How do we do that?  Can we get his records from the Veteran’s Administration?” she asked.

“That’s a great idea, but I don’t think it will work.  As I recall, all the World War I vets, or at least most of them, had their records destroyed in a fire sometime in the early seventies.  No, I think this is going to be a library and internet search.”

With that, Jim headed to his small office and the family computer.