Justice (3 page)

Fifty-seven minutes
after he hung up the phone, they skidded to a halt in the Mount Vernon parking lot. Maddock leaped out of the car and hit the ground at a near run, stopping only to pay their admission fee before hurrying up the hill toward the main building.

Mount Vernon stood atop a long, gently sloping hill. The sun gleamed on its white boards, red roof, and high cupola. Outbuildings, their walls and roofs matching in color, flanked a drive that ended in a roundabout in front of the main door.

Melissa waited outside the door. She embraced him and buried her head in his shoulder. He could feel the muscles in her shoulders and upper back move as she breathed deeply. He just held on.

The moment passed quickly as she pulled away and looked him in the eyes.

He could stare at that delicate face and green eyes forever, and he never could resist the urge to run his fingers through her fine brown hair. Sometimes he wondered…

“Did you hear what I said?”

He realized Melissa had been speaking and he snapped himself back into focus. He saw no trace of tears or weakness, just focus and a touch of exasperation.

“Sorry, I was busy admiring your lovely face. What did you say?”

“I said you need to come with me right now. The police are still interviewing Sarah in one of the servant’s buildings, and I want to show you something before they decide to seal the place off.”

He and Bones followed her through the main door. They passed beneath the winding staircase that led up to the second floor and stepped out into the central passage, a wood-paneled entryway with two doors on either side, leading to different parts of the house, and a larger door directly ahead which opened onto terrace, the iconic covered porch that looked down onto the Potomac. On the wall to their right hung a glass case which held a large iron key. Nothing seemed unusual about the room except perhaps the presence of half a dozen muddy footprints.

Bones scanned the room. “What’s the problem? You want us to beat up the janitorial squad?”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Don’t pull that ignorant crap on me,
Uriah
. I know you better than that. The problem is that someone messed with the Bastille Key.” She pointed to the key in the glass case.

Bones appealed to Maddock. “Dude, she called me Uriah. I’ve killed men for less.”

Maddock ignored him. “What’s this Bastille Key?”

“It’s a key to the famous French prison. It was a gift to George Washington from Marquis de Lafayette back in 1790.”

Maddock walked over to the display. “Looks fine to me.”

She sighed. “The key itself is fine. But see how those footprints are darkest right by the case? When I saw that, I took a closer look. Reach your hand under the case.”

“Won’t that set off the alarm?”

She shook her head. “We turned the alarms off in this building when the police arrived.”

Maddock’s fingers immediately discovered some sort of hinge mechanism not visible from a normal view. He squatted down and examined it. The lock showed clear signs of forced entry and was now held in place with a single nail through the hasps.

“Did they take or damage anything?”

“Not as far as I can tell. But take a look at that bit of green stuff at the bottom of the case.”

This time, Bones also leaned over to get a better view. Maddock pulled his fingers away with a small bit of the substance on his fingers. It felt like…

“Wax.” Bones exclaimed. “So we know they were after the key.”

Maddock frowned. “How do we know that?”

Bones shook his head. “Sheesh, you need to get with the program. The wax means—.”

He stopped and looked at Melissa. “Do you want to tell him or should I?”

Melissa shrugged. “I don’t actually know what the deal is. I just thought it was suspicious.”

“Fair enough,” Bones said. “Lucky for you two I have a checkered past. The wax tells us they’re making a copy of the key.”

Voices sounded at the entryway and two police detectives entered, escorting Sarah Abrams. Bones and Maddock had met the forty-something curator two days earlier when they had arrived from their San Diego training base. Despite weighing less than a hundred pounds at five-four or five-five, she had bubbled with energy, her blond locks dancing as she gave them a rush tour of some Mount Vernon highlights. Now Abrams looked pale, her eyes focused in the distance despite standing and shaking hands with one of two detectives in the room.

The other detective entered. He stood a couple inches taller than Maddock, with light brown skin and short, black hair. He cast a solid figure despite some extra pounds around the middle. His brown eyes scanned the doorway and his hand moved slowly about three inches toward the inside of his jacket. Most people would have failed to notice this, but Maddock knew the man was preparing for the possibility of having to draw a weapon. He made sure his hands were clearly visible and at his sides.

The officer stopped the motion toward his jacket and extended his hand instead.

“Detective Dwayne Ramos. You must be Dane Maddock.” He spoke with a slow, southern drawl, unusual for the DC area.

Maddock’s eyes must have betrayed his surprise at hearing his name, because Ramos chuckled as he took the offered hand. “Your little lady said y’all would be coming along to keep an eye on her. I thought she was spinning a yarn about Mr. Bonebrake here, but if anything she didn’t rightly do him justice.”

Bones laughed. “Story of my life. Was it my charm or my good looks that caught you off guard?”

Ramos narrowed his eyes for a moment before a grin returned. “She mentioned your height, but mostly she warned me about your mouth.”

Melissa avoided the ensuing glare from Bones and managed to keep a straight face. “What can you tell us, Detective?”

“Nothing you don’t already know, I’m sorry to say. She was hit from behind and didn’t get a good look at her attacker. We’ll be taking her to Inovo just to get her checked out.”

“Inovo?” Maddock asked?

“Hospital a few miles away in Alexandria. In the meantime, Ms. Moore, we need to get your statement.”

“No problem, but I’m following you to Inovo afterward. Sarah needs to have someone with her.”

Ramos looked at Bones and Maddock.

“SEALs, right?”

Maddock nodded.

“I did four years as a squid myself before I landed at Mt. Vernon P.D. You boys know I can’t have you in here for the interview?”

Maddock frowned. “I suspected that.”

Ramos’ gaze drifted to the Bastille key and his eyes widened. “I didn’t realize this is the room where the…” He turned to his partner. “Get those idiots outside to seal off this room.” He turned back to Melissa and forced a smile. “I’m sorry about that. This room should have been sealed off immediately. When it wasn’t taped off, I assume the key was in another location. Let’s talk about somewhere else. How about the study?

Maddock jumped in. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Detective.”

For the first time, Ramos showed confusion. “Why is that?”

Maddock didn’t answer. Instead he strode through the small bedchamber that lay between the central passage and the study, stopping at the study door.

“This partial print looks like it’s a match for the ones near the Bastille key.” He pointed to a crescent shaped section of a heel print.

Ramos wasted no time in shouldering past Maddock and ordering everyone to stay out of the study. Maddock, Bones, and Melissa stood just outside the door, watching as the detective scanned the floor for more prints and then looked all around.

“Ms. Moore, Ms. Abrams,” he finally said, “will you please come in here? And be careful not to disturb the footprint.”

Melissa stepped inside, Maddock keeping his eyes trained on her, followed by Sarah. Something about Ramos put him on the defensive.

“You are more familiar with this room than I am. Do you see anything out of sorts?”

Melissa and Sarah looked around.

“The books inside the case have been disturbed,” Sarah said. “See how some have been pulled out and not pushed all the way back in? They’re not usually like that.”

Ramos nodded. “We’ll have to fingerprint the case. Anything else?”

Melissa turned in a slow circle, paused, and frowned. “The portrait of Washington is different.” She pointed to a painting on the wall. Washington sat in a wooden chair, left hand on his thigh, looking off to the side.

“What do you mean? Someone moved it?”

She frowned and tapped her pursed lips, a habit Maddock found extremely attractive.

“I can’t say for sure. There’s just something different about it. Sorry, that’s all I can say.”

“All right.” Ramos turned to Maddock and Bones. “How about you gentlemen clear out entirely? Lord knows what else our team has missed.” He turned his back, Maddock and Bones already forgotten.

“These guys are clueless,” Bones whispered.

“Why? Because they missed something?”

“That wasn’t all they missed. Buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Dude, you should
have seen the look on that cop’s face.” Bones’ soft laugh sounded like a thunderclap in the quiet Mount Vernon snack bar.

“Bones, I was standing right there. I
did
see the look on his face. In his defense, he was focusing on the victim instead of the property crime.” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. It was like drinking hot water filtered through potting soil. “So,” he said, setting his cup down on the table, “what were you going to tell me?”

“These guys are half-assing it. I saw another print leading up the stairs and more on the piazza.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to them?”

Bones shrugged. “Screw ‘em. If they’re paying any sort of attention they’ll find them. The point is, whoever was here wanted more than a copy of the Bastille key.”

“Don’t try to tell them that.” Melissa slid into a chair in between them. “They’re not finished looking around, but Ramos seems to think it’s no big deal.”

“How does he figure that?” Maddock asked.

“The guy who grabbed Sarah kept asking, ‘Where is the journal?’ She had no idea what he was talking about.  I mean, Washington kept a journal while he was in the British army, but it’s not lost or anything. Heck, you can find scans of it online”

“So he was looking for some other journal,” Bones said.

“Which explains why the books in the study had been disturbed,” Maddock added.

Melissa nodded. “Ramos thinks it was a black market antiquities dealer.”

“One who shows up in the middle of the day?” Bones gave a slow shake of his head. “Give me a freaking break.”

“And what about the Bastille key?” Maddock asked.

“Ramos says the guy probably wants to sell copies to unsuspecting buyers.”

Maddock buried his face in his hands. “Seriously? Why wouldn’t he just steal the key?”

“An alarm goes off if it’s removed from the case. He’d have likely been caught. Ramos figures the guy slipped in between tours, made a quick casting of the key, and then poked around the study. When he heard Sarah coming, he panicked.”

“How does he explain the footprints leading up the stairs?” Bones asked. “Or did he even find them?”

“He found a couple on the stairs but nothing else, and everything upstairs appears normal, at least,
according to Sarah.
”

“
You sound like you’re not too happy with her,” Maddock said.

“She treated me like an idiot. I swear there’s something about the portrait in the study, but she dismissed me out of hand. After that, everyone treated me like I’m a buffoon.” She reached out and took Maddock’s hand. “I don’t think Ramos is taking this seriously. What if this guy comes back?”

Maddock checked his watch. It was almost closing time. “How about Bones and I come back for some late night detective work?”

“Break into Mount Vernon? Oh hell yes.” Bones pounded his fist on the table, startling an elderly couple seated two tables away.

“A little louder next time,” Maddock said. “I don’t think they heard you in DC.”

“Bite me, Maddock.”

“The two of you?” Melissa’s eyebrows sprang up. “I’m the one who can get you in here, disable the alarms, and turn off the security cameras. I’m the one who will notice if something’s out of sorts. You’re not leaving me out of this.”

“Wait a minute,” Bones said, “how do you know how to do all that stuff?”

“I like to learn things, and the head of security has a thing for me.”

Maddock sat up a little straighter.

“Don’t worry. Just a little harmless flirting. I did the same thing with the head archivist, and now I know the passcode to the secure area.”

“Where did you find this chick, Maddock?” Bones smiled in approval.

“Hey, I was straight-laced when I met you.” She blushed and glanced away. “Okay, that’s a lie, but these adventures you’ve been telling me about have brought out my… devious side.” She grinned at Maddock. “Admit it. Aren’t you happy to have me at your disposal?”

A cool breeze
rolled up off the Potomac, and Melissa gave a little shudder and pressed her body against Maddock.

“I don’t know if I’m cold or just nervous,” she whispered.

Maddock wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “You’re doing great. If it weren’t for you, we’d have probably set off an alarm or two.”

“Hey,” Bones said, “a little more confidence in my burglary abilities, if you please. I could have gotten us in.”

“Sure you could have,” Melissa said, “but isn’t this way easier?” She unlocked the veranda door, stepped inside, and quickly disabled the alarm.

“Where do you want to start?” Bones whispered.

“The study. I want another look at the Washington portrait.”

They moved quickly to the study, with only faint security lights and the dull moonlight shining through the windows to light their way. Once inside the study, Melissa took out a small hardbound book and a penlight. “There’s a shot of the study in here. It shows the painting.” She shone the light on the page and they spent a few seconds absorbing it, then she turned the light on the painting. “See anything different?”

Bones shrugged. “His package is smaller? Bigger?”

Melissa let out an exasperated sigh.

“Let’s see the picture again,” Maddock said.

Melissa shone the light on the image and it clicked into place.

“Look at Washington’s left hand,” Maddock said.

“He’s holding a book,” Bones said.

“Now look at the painting on the wall.”

Melissa turned her light to the portrait and gasped. “The book’s gone.”

“What the hell?” Bones asked. “He switched out the paintings? What for?”

“I’ll bet that’s the journal he’s looking for. He’s just removing a visual reminder of its existence. Think about it. It’s so subtle that Sarah didn’t even notice.”

“The painting’s small,” Bones agreed. “It would be a pain, but a big guy could smuggle it in or out under his jacket.”

Maddock ran a hand through his hair. “So he switched the real painting for a fake one, and he clearly intends to make a fake Bastille key. This is weird.”

They made a quick inspection of the room, but nothing else caught Melissa’s eye, so they proceeded to the stairs. The police had noticed only a couple of footprints, but Bones’ sharp eye was far superior. He noted scuffs and tiny bits of dirt that the police had missed. The big Cherokee quickly led them into a second-floor bedroom.

“This is the Lafayette Bedchamber,” Melissa said. “Marquis de Lafayette was like a son to Washington, and this was where he stayed on his visits.”

Maddock shone his light around the room, its beam playing off the canopy bed, armchairs, washstand, and fireplace, eventually landing on a gold-framed portrait of the Marquis himself.

“What did he want in here?” Melissa asked.

“Looks like…” Bones moved slowly across the carpeted floor, following a trail only he could see, “he stopped right in front of this painting.” Bones shone his light on the wall around the painting. “I think he took it down. You can see a gold smudge where he banged the frame against the wall.”

“You think he switched this one too?” Melissa asked.

Maddock shook his head. “Too big. Let’s take a closer look.”

He slipped on a pair of gloves, took the painting down, and laid it face-down on the bed. “I wonder…” He worked the thin wooden backing out of the frame and pulled it free. Just as he had suspected, it was a false backing. He flipped it over and whistled in surprise.

“There was something here.”

In the center of the backing were eight ragged corners of yellowed paper.

“Somebody glued pages from…something in here,” Bones said.

“And our friend found them and tore them free.” Maddock hung the painting back up. “The plot thickens.”

“I guess we’ve hit a dead end,” Melissa said.

“Not necessarily. We can research the journal, and also see if we can find out what might have been hidden in this portrait.”

“As long as we’re here, we might as well follow the footprints out on the piazza,” Bones said. “Maybe he went somewhere else while he was here.”

Outside, Bones quickly pointed out a footprint that he claimed matched those of the intruder.

“The guy was coming this way when he left this print, so I guess we’ll be retracing his steps.”

Maddock could scarcely make out the print in the soft earth, but he trusted Bones. He and Melissa followed his friend as Bones followed the tracks around the main house, past the outbuildings, and along the trees that lined the front lawn. Halfway down, they cut across the greenspace and picked up the trail again among the trees on the opposite side.

“He was clearly trying to keep out of sight,” Maddock said.

“Like it was necessary,” Bones said. “There’s hardly any security in this place.”

They cut through a series of gardens, crossed a wide walkway, and soon found themselves staring at a gray, metal door at the back of the Mount Vernon Museum. Bones took out his Maglite and gave it a close inspection.

“Do you want me to pick the lock or let Melissa handle it?”

“Get out of the way.” Melissa slipped past Bones, tapped in a code on the keypad, and, pushed the door open.

Maddock stepped inside and flicked on his flashlight, revealing a storage room filled with row upon row of shelves. They followed the footprints on the floor, found where they stopped, inspected the boxes in this area.

“There’s a gap here,” he said, shining his light on an empty space. “Do you have any idea what was here?”

“As matter of fact, I do. I was just in here the other day.”

“Hooking up with someone?” Maddock asked.

Melissa ignored him. “A museum in Boston came across some artifacts from a visit Washington made there in 1791. They were mixed in with items belonging to Sam Adams and were only recently identified. The archivist was just inventorying it.”

Bones and Maddock exchanged a meaningful look. They knew something about Washington’s 1791 visit to Boston that few others knew, and even fewer would believe.

Melissa looked around. “There it is.” She pointed to a single box on the top shelf. “The guy put it back in the wrong place. Must have been in a hurry.”

Bones took it down and handed it to her. She opened it, took out a sheet of paper containing an itemized list of the contents, and compared it to what was in the box.

“There’s one item missing. A letter to Lafayette that was never mailed.”

“A deathbed letter to his surrogate son,” Bones said.

“What do you mean by deathbed?” Melissa asked, replacing the box.

Just then the lights switched on and a voice came from near the door. “Hands in the air, Bonebrake. Maddock, I know you’re in here. This is Detective Ramos. Speak up to acknowledge that you heard me.”

“Is there another way out of here?” Maddock mouthed to Melissa.

She shook her head.

“Anywhere you can hide?”

She nodded.

“Go.”

Melissa slunk away, vanishing behind the rows of shelves.

Anger laced Ramos’ next words. “You boys may think I’m just some local hick, but you’d do well to think again. There’s no other way out of here and I called for backup as soon as I saw y’all sneakin’ in. Be a shame if you was roughed up when we take you into custody.”

Maddock prayed Bones could resist that kind of provocation. He closed his eyes and waited for his friend to respond to the challenge. Thankfully, Bones kept his silence.

“I’m getting tired of waiting. You got five seconds to show yourself before I start sending bullets your way.”

Maddock remained silent. Ramos didn’t know they were there, and if he wanted to search for them, he’d have to pick a side of the room to check out first. Left or right? If he chose badly, they might be able to outflank him.

Five seconds passed, and Maddock heard a light scraping of footsteps. They weren’t loud enough for him to determine the direction in which Ramos was moving. Maddock grabbed a book from the shelf next to him and tossed it over a shelving unit toward the doorway.

The thud of it striking the ground sounded out of proportion to the size of the tome. He half expected the detective to fire a shot in that direction, but the man wasn’t falling for it. Maddock wanted to do something else besides just stand there, but he knew that the worst thing he could do was to move without a definite plan. So he crouched near the end of an aisle where he was hidden by shadows but still had freedom to move quickly if needed.

Then he heard the faintest of whispers.

“Dominos.”

Maddock had to hand it to his friend. Bones’ plan would likely create the diversion they needed to escape. Standing about ten feet apart, they each shoved hard on one of the shelving units. The groaning of metal preceded the toppling of the seven-foot-high structure. It bridged the four feet of aisle on the other side and then crashed into the next unit.