Ancient Echoes

CHAPTER 10



MICHAEL PRINTED OUT the map that Jianjun sent him using the computer equipment the Forest Service had made available to Simon Quade. Michael, Charlotte and Quade had returned to the forest service cabin, while Sheriff Sullivan went to Telichpah Flat and then to Salmon City to report the news of the dead student.

Michael placed the map on the table and Quade and Charlotte joined him in perusing it. “Very interesting,” Quade murmured.

“Look!” Charlotte pointed to the center of the map. “Two pillars. Polly Higgins talked about two pillars.”

Michael nodded. “Exactly. But this map gives no indication of where they are. There’s not another landmark shown, just pillars, streams, and mountain ranges. For all we know, it’s not even real.”

“You said it came from Professor Thurmon Teasdale,” Quade said. “He was a historian, an expert on the Lewis and Clark expedition and the American Northwest. If he drew it, it’s got a high probability of being accurate.”

“If so, we need someone who knows the landscape well, who would recognize the mountain range and where the river bends and curves that particular way.” Michael wasn’t ready to trust Simon Quade, but he accepted his expertise.

“Give me some time online with the map and the CIA’s field charts,” Quade said. “We’re a bit better than Google Earth.”

Michael nodded. “In the meantime, I’ll go into Salmon City and buy some gear for backpacking. I’m going out there, wherever there is.”

“I’ll join you,” Charlotte said. “I’m going, too.”

“Buy enough for three,” Quade called, tossing his car keys to Michael.

Michael and Charlotte got into the Trailblazer. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “It could be dangerous. Besides, the law won’t like it. The sheriff didn't exactly greet us with open arms.”

She gave him a stern, fleeting look. “I suspect he’s not as bad as he pretends to be. Also, I don't blame him. I’m sure the higher ups don’t want anything to do with the disappearance, and he's the one stuck with it. He'll be the scapegoat in the end, no matter how it turns out. In any case, no one is leaving me behind.”

Her cynicism surprised him. “I've never heard of Customs sending someone out to investigate a missing scholar,” he said after a while, taking a quick glance at her.

She didn't look at him. “Oh?”

“What's the real story?” He watched her struggle with whether to trust him or not. “The search for Lionel and the students is personal for you. I’d like to know why. Is it something about Lionel? Were you seeing him?”

“Please.” Disdain dripped.

He realized she wouldn’t be open with him unless he confided in her, at least a little. “I'm here in part,” he began slowly, cautiously, “because of a strange thing that happened to me in Mongolia. I'm not sure how or why, but I believe it’s connected to my brother's disappearance. Last year, he asked me to contact the family of a Chinese geneticist who died some years earlier—”

Her head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “Go on,” she whispered.

He told her about his excavation, finding the tomb, and that its contents were stolen. He didn't give any details about Lady Hsieh or the murders of his field experts. “This history interested Lionel for some reason. I contacted him to ask why, and learned he was missing.”

Charlotte inhaled sharply. “That's everything?”

He hesitated. “There's more, but...”

“Yes?” she urged.

“It...nothing.”

She studied him openly, gauging his reactions. Finally, she spoke. “If you told me, you fear I might think you mad.”

He could scarcely believe his ears. “What do you know about all this?”

She took out her pack of cigarettes. “Do you mind?” she asked.

He shook his head.

She rolled down the window, lit a cigarette and took a couple of deep drags before she said, “I said people have been killed. They were friends, and someone tried to kill me. More than once.”

His mind raced to the deaths in Mongolia, and his feeling of dread when he learned Lionel was missing. “It doesn't make sense. Deaths connected to Lionel's search? I mean, strange occurrences happened in Mongolia, but it’s a land of superstition and...other things.”

“Quade said the map maker was an expert on Lewis and Clark,” Charlotte said. “One of the theories I’ve heard is Lewis and Clark were sent to find a book of alchemy called The Book of Abraham the Jew. And that the book is lost in Idaho.”

“Nowhere in history is there any indication of such a purpose,” Michael said.

To his surprise, she found a piece of paper in her purse, and drew a symbol on it—two interlocking triangles with two vees and circle inside. “Have you ever seen this before?”

He looked at her in shock. “Yes. But how—”

“Where did you see it?”

“I found it in the Chinese tomb in Mongolia,” he said. “On a sarcophagus.”

Surprise flickered in her blue eyes a moment. “It was also found in France, showed up in important papers in Jerusalem, and”—she hesitated—”and on a paper I found with the word Idaho written beneath it.” She drew in her breath then asked with a frightening intensity. “Do you know what it means?”

He hesitated as the full import of her words struck. “Some, in China, consider it a symbol of immortality. It’s apparently connected to alchemy.”

The color drained from her face. She stubbed out the rest of the cigarette in the ash tray, then turned away from him, and studied the view from the passenger window.

“What do you know about it?” he asked.

“We should ask Quade about the symbol,” she said instead of answering. “See what he knows.”

“Do you trust him?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know.” After a moment she looked at him, unyielding, her manner infinitely sad. “Find your brother and ignore the rest. That’s the smartest move.” Her voice choked. “You don’t want to die.”

“This isn’t only about my brother,” he said softly. “Young university students are in danger. They need our help. They need your help.”

She gazed hard at him as he drove, trying to understand him. In her field of work, she had heard of him before this, and knew his reputation as a person of intelligence and passion about his work—as well as a womanizer, someone who lived on the edge, and possibly a thief of international treasures, drawing Custom’s unwavering suspicion at his every transaction.

His few comments about Mongolia and alchemy had shaken her. And yet, for some reason she trusted him. He held something back, but she sensed it was deeply personal, that it touched his core, either the kind of man he was or wanted to be. Despite that, his words rang true. Against her usual cautious nature, she found herself liking him.

“Do you know about the Danish scientist?” she asked.

He glanced at her quizzically. Something rattled in the back of his mind, but he couldn't bring it forth. “No.”

She stared at the distant mountains, wondering if treating him as an ally would put him in danger. She didn’t want to see him hurt, or worse. But then, she realized, simply being here searching for his brother did that, and he deserved to know as much as she did. “What I have to tell you will be in the strictest confidence,” she said.

He agreed.

She glanced at her wristwatch. “I hope there’s a diner or something in Salmon city. I haven’t eaten in over a day, and it's a long story.”

o0o

Sheriff Jake Sullivan also traveled to Salmon City where he met with the parents of Brian Cutter. Telling them of their son’s death was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. As soon as the meeting ended, he called a press conference. He hated it, but had no choice in the high profile situation.

Only after all that could he do what he had wanted ever since hearing Polly Higgins’ story about six missing men.

Lemhi County’s law enforcement files were kept in Salmon, the county seat. There, what he found shocked him.