Three Faces of West (2013) (22 page)

“It’s locked.” Noted John, “Can we force it?”

“Perhaps. Need to try some alternative methods.”

With John looking on, Jack proceeded to grab the window frame for a few seconds while tugging at it. Brute force was not going to work so Jack resorted to more primitive methods, picking up a stone without hesitation he banged it against the glass, shattering it immediately. The noise to the break in did not cause any alarm as he reached inside to undo the latch. The shattered glass strewn all over the floor both inside and out pointed a clear way in for the intruders as the latch came away easily in West’s hand. Sliding upwards smoothly once Jack lifted it he followed by John crawled through. The glass crunching beneath their feet as the hit the floor,

“Well, that was a novel way in. So much for discretion, someone could have heard.”

West rebuked the argument, “I don’t think so. If I’m right, I don’t think this place is used anymore. Certainly not by the CIA or even by Bruenstein himself.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’m not.”

A small kitchen was the area they found themselves in. It looked like it was used for cooking, although it wasn’t the most hygienic of places. Immediately both men started to look around; pot and pans strewn across the work surfaces and tables. Some used; others still have the sheen on them but all out of place. Looking up, shelves spanned the dark yellow walls filled with other kitchenware, utensils hung like limp unused items,

“Not a very well kept kitchen is it?” Jack commented,

“No not really. Wouldn’t want to eat any foot prepared in here.”

“I agree.”

Checking around the mess, they were reluctant to touch anything due to the grease and grime. But something was out of place,

“What’s this?” Asked John, “Jack come here, take a look.”

“What have you found?”

“What do you make of that?”

Picking up from one of the work surfaces close to the sink, John held in his hand a shiny golden object,

Jack looked closely, “That’s a key. But to what?”

“What’s it doing here?”

“Where did you find it?” Jack queried,

“Down here underneath this work surface. It was just placed on one of these shelves amongst these pots and pans.” Explained John.

Jack thought for a second, “Obviously put here to conceal it. I wonder if there’s another key? Makes sense since I don’t see why you would just put a single one in an unusual place like this. Must be part of a set.”

“Where do you think the other one supposedly is? In there?” Replied John pointing to the doorway in the corner of the room,

“Let’s find out.”

They moved through the doorway taking the key they found with them. With pistols tucked away underneath their jackets just in case anything happened, they precariously moved forward. Cautiously entering they found themselves in a living room that was as deserted as the kitchen. It seemed normal enough, spacious and comfortable for a property of this value. Light flooded in through the large Georgian windows to highlight the dark green flock wallpaper, reddish carpet and the leather chairs surrounding the fireplace that dominated one entire wall. Looking around again, a dark oak cabinet rested on a back wall opposite the windows. Jack immediately made for it. The glass doors and the shelves inside revealed an array to little objects, ornaments, pictures and the like. The drawers underneath unopened possibly contained documents and letters, but he did not go for these. Through the glass, sunlit and shinning from the reflection he could see some pictures, black and white photographs of people. Moving in closer he could see a group photograph of what looked like military personnel in dress uniform. Even though the picture had a distinct lack of colour it was obvious to determine the contrast, and they were wearing what looked like dark uniforms. Each man donned a white peaked cap with blue coloured trousers sporting stripes; West knew immediately who these individuals were,

“These guys in the photograph, they’re marines; they’re US Marines, in dress uniform.”

John came over and joined him,

“Do you think this Bruenstein could be associated with them?”

“Possibly. It could be that Bruenstein was in the military before the CIA, very likely the US Marines judging from this photograph, although I can’t see him here.”

“Can we determine if he was a US Marine? Asked John,

“Given time, but we don’t have that luxury. If we can find evidence, something to definitely pin him to here.”

The cabinet was rather cluttered with various objects but everything couldn’t hide anything incriminating from closer scrutiny. Opening the drawers to obtain the contents seemed the next logical step after examining the upper part behind the glass, these wasn’t anything else of interest there. There was only one drawer, about a foot long in width. West pulled at the brass handle to expose the contents only to be greeted by various papers. As Jack set to work, Hudson moved away to conduct the search around the room leaving West to scrutinise the documents he found. There was nothing really that spectacular really, a few ordinary letters out of date others more recent, it made no matter Jack quickly read them all. Fumbling down underneath, he tried to reach other papers that might hold a clue as to Bruenstein’s whereabouts. Pulling out a small bundle of other papers he was astonished to bring out an old colour photograph,

“Got you! That’s him! That’s Victor Bruenstein!”

John walked over, “What?”

“Look, the photograph.” Replied Jack while showing the picture to John. Clearly it was a group photo not in military uniform, but the tall dark haired figure near the right was the one that caught the eye,

“That’s Bruenstein.” Said John,

“I know. Well at least we now know he was definitely here. What’s that you found?”

Noticing that John had come over with his hands full, West was intrigued,

“Found this on the mantelpiece, it’s another key, not like the one found in the kitchen, silver in colour, not gold.”

“So could it be for something different?” Asked West,

“I think so.”

West also noticed that Hudson was carrying a small ceramic ornament, a white figurine of the Statue of Liberty. Noticing that Jack was interested, John intervened,

“I also found this on the mantelpiece as well.”

“The Statue of Liberty.”

“Yes. But listen to that.” Noted John as he began to shake it. The metallic rattling noise from within was impossible to ignore,

“It’s hollow, but there’s something in that.” Said West. Putting down the photo and documents, he picked it out of John hand to examine it a bit further. Turning it on its head he could see a hole in the bottom where the object was originally cast, peering inside there was something inside,

“It’s a key.” He said.

“How do we get it out?”

Jack thought for a second; placing his fingers inside the hole he could feel the cold steel on his fingertips but there was no grip,

“I can’t get it out.” He said

“Smash it.” John replied

Trying his best he still could not get the key out, breaking it may be the only option. Pulling his hand out he paced over to the corner of the wooden cabinet, statue in hand and positioned in over the joint. Lifting it up, he brought it down with force, shattering the statuette upon impact. Pieces of ceramic flew everywhere dusting the floor with white fragments. The key enclosed inside dropped with the remnants, landing on the floor with a louder clunk than the higher pitched smash of the ornament. Putting the ruined base on the top of the cabinet West bent down to pick up the key,

“It’s identical to the one we found in the kitchen.” He said, “Look, same in design and colour.”

“You think they are a set to something?”

“Very likely, but to what?” West pondered,

“Perhaps this extra key has something to do with it.” Said John. Jack agreed there really could be no other explanation. Standing up West looked round, they had to explore further,

“Let’s have a look around, see if we can’t place these keys.”

“Agreed.” Replied John,

Making their way out of the living room, they found themselves in the main hall. The large black wooden door dominated on end of the hallway, across the black and white checked tiles another door stood, closed. Obviously this fuelled the curiosity of the two men as they walked up to it. Tentatively they gripped the brass knob handle but it would not turn, West tried again and then again once more, each time the handle would not engage the door latch,

“It’s locked.” He said,

“Try the keys.” Replied John as he stepped forward. Putting each key in the lock seemed futile as all fitted, but none would turn, ensuring the door staying tightly shut. Pausing, they realised that they could not get in, the door was just too heavy to break down without some kind of specialist equipment. Pausing as they looked round, the staircase at the opposite end of the hallway looked the most promising,

“Try upstairs.” Remarked John, gesturing to the red carpeted staircase,

“I have a feeling that whatever we are looking for is up there. Something out of sight.” Said West. They moved up the staircase, only two small flights and they were up in a first floor corridor. A large window flooded it with daylight, structurally above the front door, one door was on the right, but the left hand one was slightly ajar. Both men approached,

“Careful.” Warned John as Jack put his hand on the dark brown oak door. Pushing it open slightly a deserted room greeted him. Feeling slightly more confident he opened it fully to be greeted with a medium sized room dominated in the middle by a conference table and chairs,

“Looks like some kind of briefing room.” Said John as they both entered, instantly scanning round trying to identify anything that the three keys could be associated with. The walls, dark green wallpaper similar to the living room and adorned with pictures and bookcases offered clues; one of these was staring right back at them,

“Look at this.” Said Jack, spotting one particular picture near the door. Upon closer examination they could see it was a military photograph, Bruenstein wasn’t amongst them but it was distinctive in appearance,

“Look at the uniforms, regimental in style. Recognise them?” Asked John,

“No.”

“They are uniforms of the US Marines.” Stated John, “I recognise the design, but look at the flag in the background, see the design and colours?”

“Yes I see. So Bruenstein was likely to have been in the US Marines prior to joining the CIA?” Asked Jack, it seemed only logical,

“I would bet he was.” John replied.

“That’s fine, but really I’m not interested in his history, only in where he is now. What about that other door? I wonder if there are any other clues to Bruenstein’s whereabouts in there?” Said Jack,

“Let’s try it.”

Exiting the room they paced down to the far end of the corridor approaching the second door. Trying like the one below, it was certainly locked, so therefore would definitely not budge. They tried the keys they procured downstairs, with two of them forming a matching set; the odd third silver key found on the mantelpiece was the one they tried first. Handing it to Jack, Hudson watched as he put it in the lock, it fitted perfectly, but would it turn? A quick glance behind them reassured him that were still alone while hearing a click told him that the key indeed fitted this lock. As the door slackened, both West and Hudson briefly hesitated, wondering what awaited them on the other side. There was only one way to find out.

Chapter 14:

Opening the door to find themselves in a rather spacious room, the function was quite clear, it was a study. Before venturing further both men surveyed what lay before them, the large writing desk beside the window was one of the more dominating features. The leather bound seat backed by flags situated in front of the large green curtained windows formed the focal point of the room. Directly in front of them a large wooden bookshelf covered the entire span of the far wall. The dark brown colour of the oak brought out the colours of the classic leather bound volumes that populated the shelves.

West immediately made for the large desk. Taking out the small brown paper package he was initially carrying out of his jacket pocket he carefully placed it on the table top. His hands now free, he could have a look around the vicinity. Upon the desk there seemed at first glance to be nothing out of the ordinary, blotting paper, writing pens, all ordinary stationary. However placed just to the side was yet another key, gold in colour like the two they found downstairs but this time somehow different. He picked it up,

“John, take a look at this.”

“What’s that? What another key?”

“Yes,” Jack replied, “But look, see the shape; it’s different, squarer than the others.”

John quipped somewhat frustratingly at the amount of key they seemed to be finding,

“So up to now we found a gold key in the kitchen, another gold key hidden in the ornament, a silver key used to gain entry to this room and now we have another one for god knows what. Are you sure we have found them all?”

“Hopefully.” Jack replied. John standing next to his partner at the desk noticed the small brown package Jack placed there,

“What’s that?” He asked tentatively. Jack immediately deflected the subject professionally like a politician by moving the investigation on further,

“Let’s try and find what these keys are for, must be something hidden that is linked to Bruenstein.” He said while picking up the extra key. They split up; jack looked toward the bookcase while John moved toward a drinks cabinet accompanied by some plant pots on the near side wall. Again like in the opposite meeting room, pictures adorned the wall, this time not military in nature but more academic. Peering closer to ascertain the detail, he could see they were referring to a particular university in America,

“University of Chicago.” He said to himself, noting the buildings in some off the photos, some were of groups, others of just college campuses, all were of Chicago. Backing off, John resumed his search, the cabinets all situated next to the walls as he walked round toward the wall opposite the desk. There was a freestanding bookcase, quite empty, certainly nowhere near as full as the one spanning the wall where West was going through. Walking round it though seemed odd, something just did not feel right here; something that needed to be investigated. Putting his hand on the sides, John could feel the structure was slightly more unsteady that the other furniture, as if it was freestanding. Peering round the left hand side revealed a distinct if not thin gap between the back and the wall,