Solomon's Scrolls, page 3
part #1 of A North and Swiftwater Thriller Series
Knox slid his phone into a pocket and smiled. “Well, Connor, are you ready to meet your mysterious benefactor?”
Connor swept into a theatrical bow. “Lead on, sir.”
They made their way from the plane to a waiting glossy black limousine. Connor was relieved to see a carafe of coffee and some warm croissants for them in the back. He and Knox helped themselves to an early breakfast as the limo driver drove out of the airport onto a nearly deserted road.
“Where are we going?” asked Connor, brushing some crumbs from his sweater.
“The seaport district,” replied Knox.
“Is it a nice part of town?”
“Very much so. My client recently purchased a penthouse suite in one of the more exclusive towers overlooking the harbor.”
“How exclusive?”
“The cheapest apartment goes for just over two million dollars.”
Connor let out a low whistle. “Thank God I’m still okay with second-hand ISO trailers and communal bathrooms.”
Knox cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. “Connor, can I give you some advice?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“When you meet your benefactor, I want you to think with your brain and not your heart.”
Connor narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at?”
“Just remember to remain calm.”
Now Connor was perplexed. Who the hell was he going to meet? He thought about bailing on the whole idea for a brief moment, but the proposed multi-year funding for his anti-poaching team was too good a deal to pass up.
The limo parked in the exclusive tower’s underground garage. Knox and Connor got out and made their way to the nearest elevator. Knox pressed the button for the penthouse, and as the car rose, he hummed along with a song from the seventies coming over the speakers. Connor wished he could feel as calm, but Knox’s warning had him on edge. Why did he have to tell him to remain calm? Calm about what? The elevator slowed, and the doors parted. They stepped out onto a blue carpeted floor. Connor glanced to his left and saw a blond-haired man in a dark suit standing outside a closed door, eyeing them. The noticeable bulge in his jacket warned he was armed.
“Follow me,” said Knox.
Connor placed his hands behind his back and walked a pace behind.
“Good morning, Mister Knox,” said the guard with a strong Southern accent. “He’s expecting you.”
Connor smiled. Outward, he projected the air of normalcy while inside, his guts told him to be wary.
The guard spoke into a mic in his right jacket sleeve. “Sir, Mister Knox and his guest are here. Should I let them in?” The guard heard the reply in his earpiece, nodded, and unlocked the door.
“Remember what I said,” whispered Knox to Connor. “No matter what happens next, I want you to stay calm.”
Connor nodded at the guard in greeting and followed Knox inside the penthouse suite. Right away, the hair went up on the back of his neck. Something oddly familiar about some of the pictures and paintings in the apartment made him wonder if he knew the occupant.
“Good morning, Connor,” said an unwanted voice.
Connor spun and scowled at the one man in the world he had hoped never to cross paths with again, his former father-in-law, Jason Hamilton. “Son of a bitch,” snarled Connor. “I’ve been set up!”
Hamilton raised his hands. “Connor, it’s not what you think. I haven’t asked you to come here so we can yell at each other over Rachel’s death. We’ve been over that, and it’s high time we both moved on.”
Hearing Hamilton mention his late wife’s name only fueled Connor’s anger. “I told you at her funeral that I never wanted to see or speak to you ever again, and I goddamn meant it.” He faced Knox and angrily shook his head. “I’m out of here!”
“Wait, Connor,” urged Knox, stepping in his path. “I called you an idealist in Africa. Now be a pragmatist and listen to what Mister Hamilton has to say.”
“Please, Connor, I’m begging you to stay,” said Hamilton. “Just give me an hour of your time, and I’ll make it worthwhile.”
“I shot the last man who said that to me,” Connor replied coldly.
“Of that, I have no doubt. Please, one hour, that’s all I’m asking for.”
In all the years Connor had known Jason Hamilton, he had never heard him beg for anything. Perhaps something was wrong. Were Rachel’s younger twin sisters in trouble? “Okay, you’ve got your hour and not a second more, Jason.” Connor deliberately used Hamilton’s first name, as there was no way in hell that he was going to call him Mister Hamilton.
“Please let us move into the dining room where we can talk.”
Connor eyed Hamilton. It had been just over two years since his wife had been laid to rest after a motor vehicle accident while Connor had been deployed overseas, involving a car driven by her father and a speeding truck. Hamilton hadn’t changed much. He’d put on a few pounds around his waist, and his well-trimmed beard and hair were nearly all white.
Connor asked, “Before we begin, are Sarah and Kelly okay?”
Hamilton nodded. “Yes, both are doing well. Why do you ask?”
“Because I care about them, that’s why,” responded Connor curtly.
As they entered the dining room, Connor immediately noticed a wide-open wall safe and chuckled. “I take it this means someone robbed you.” He wanted to add that it couldn’t have happened to a better man but kept his mouth shut.
“Unfortunately, yes,” said Hamilton, taking a seat at a polished, oval mahogany table. Connor and Knox joined him.
“Have you told the police about the robbery?” asked Connor.
“No, and I don’t intend to, either, because I know who did it.”
Connor shook his head. “If you know who has your possessions and you don’t plan on involving the police, I fail to see where I could be of any value to you.”
“You may not, but I do. Connor, how much did Rachel tell you about our family history?”
“Not much, other than you originally came from France. Your family moved to England during the French Revolution and then on to the United States in the 1850s.”
“That part is correct. But there is far more to the story than that. My great-grandfather, Donald Hamilton, was the son of a very successful businessman. And like so many men of his generation, he traveled the world looking for adventure before he took over the reins of his father’s shipping business. Eventually, he ended up in the Holy Land, helping at an archaeological site in Jerusalem. That is where he met a free-spirited French woman called Rosemary DuFour. He stayed there a whole year and fell deeply in love with her.”
Connor interrupted. “This is all very interesting, but what does any of this have to do with me?”
“I’m getting to that. Please be patient. You must first understand the past to grasp what is happening in the present.”
Connor raised a hand. “Okay, but if I have to sit here and listen to you talk for an hour, I’d like a cup of coffee.”
Hamilton stood and exited the room to return five minutes later with a serving tray with three cups on it. “Now, where were we?”
“The Holy Land, sir,” said Knox, handing around the coffee.
“Yes, in the summer of 1914, my great-grandfather and his new bride returned to the States so she could meet the rest of his family. Unfortunately, that summer, World War One broke out, and Rosemary’s brother, Peter, fled to France, taking everything of value with him. When Rosemary and Donald reached out to her brother for her notebooks and journals so they could carry on her work after the war, their requests were brushed aside. So, after a few years, they gave up, and Donald focused on running his father’s shipping empire.”
“The same one you and your brother, Mark, own today.”
“Correct, again. I wasn’t made aware of Rosemary’s other journals until about a year ago, so I reached out to Rene DuFour, Peter’s descendant, to see if he would be open to returning the journals so I could perhaps carry on my great-grandparents’ work when I retire.”
Connor was becoming intrigued. “And?”
“He said no and then sent someone to steal what little I had from my great-grandparents.”
“How can you be sure it was him?”
“Because the thieves took nothing else but two journals and a few small trinkets that once belonged to Rosemary Hamilton. Why only take those specific items but leave behind close to seven million dollars in jewels belonging to my late wife?”
Connor got up and examined the open safe. Hamilton was right; barely anything had been touched or removed. He had to agree that it looked like a targeted burglary. He faced Hamilton. “Were any of these trinkets, as you call them, expensive?”
Hamilton shook his head. “Not really. It’s the detailed notes Rosemary took while helping to unearth a tomb dating back to around the time of the First Crusade that I suspect Rene was after.”
Connor gave Jason a questioning look. “I still don’t understand why you won’t involve the police. You know who did it and where the stolen items are, so why not make the call? Hell, I know I would if I were in your shoes.”
“No, Connor, I’d rather keep the authorities out of this family matter and deal with it myself.”
Connor sat down and drummed his fingers on the table for a minute. “If you’re thinking what I think you are, you’ve got the wrong man; I’m not a thief. I wouldn’t know how to open a locked safe if you placed it in front of me with the owner’s manual open to the page on how to open a safe. No, siree, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
Hamilton smiled. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I need you to break into Rene’s home. No, I already have a person lined up for the job. I need you to ensure that she gets in and out of Rene’s house alive with all of Rosemary’s books in her hands.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “She?”
“Yes, the best person for the job happens to be a woman. Does that trouble you?”
“No.” Connor looked over at Knox. “Did you know this before flying to meet me in Africa?”
Knox nodded. “Yes, I did. Who do you think recommended Ms. Swiftwater to Mister Hamilton for the job? After all, she is the best at what she does.”
Connor wagged a finger. “Mister Knox, I’m beginning to think you’re not a real lawyer.”
Knox grinned. “Oh, I can assure you that I am a real lawyer. In my line of work, you get to meet a lot of less-than-respectable people. A great many of whom owe me favors.”
“So, you want me to act as Ms. Swiftwater’s bodyguard while she steals your stuff back?” said Connor to Hamilton.
“Yes. That’s precisely what I want you to do.”
“Why me, Jason? Aren’t there dozens of close-protection companies on the East Coast that could supply you with a trained person to babysit Ms. Swiftwater?”
“I suspect there are, but I want you. Rachel always had faith in you, and if she thought you were the best at what you did, then who am I to argue? I need you, Connor. Please don’t say no.”
Connor glanced over at Knox, who sagely nodded his head. Connor stood and started to pace. Rachel filled his thoughts. He stopped and faced Hamilton. “For the love of God, I know I’m going to regret agreeing to this. So, I have one request to make, and it’s non-negotiable.”
“Go ahead,” said Hamilton.
“Regardless of the agreement Mister Knox and I made before coming here, I want you to commit to financing the team I worked with in the Congo for the next ten years. That includes the Congolese anti-poachers and anyone the government hires to train the next generation of peace officers.”
Hamilton didn’t even bat an eye. “Done.”
Connor was stunned that Hamilton hadn’t objected since the cost for ten years would easily exceed two million dollars. “All right, I guess I’m your man.”
“Thank you, Connor,” said Hamilton. “That’s a massive load off my mind.”
“So, when do I get to meet Ms. Swiftwater?”
“You’ll meet her tonight,” said Knox. “I’ve arranged for a private plane to take you from Boston to Paris, France. There, you will be met by Yuri, a man with many, shall we say, unique talents. He’ll give you everything you need to infiltrate Mister DuFour’s home and get out undetected.”
“And what happens if we run into trouble?”
“Then, Connor, you’re on your own.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Connor bound up the steps and boarded a blue-and-white Bombardier Global 7500 airplane. He handed his pack to the plane’s flight attendant, a woman in her mid-thirties with flaming-red hair, and sauntered into the jet’s luxurious passenger compartment. He immediately noticed the plane’s only other passenger, Ms. Swiftwater. She sat in a green leather seat, sipping from a flute of champagne. She had a runner’s build, a tanned complexion, short black hair, and piercing, mahogany-brown eyes. Connor noticed that Swiftwater had a slightly turned-up nose and slender lips and didn’t wear any makeup on her attractive face. She wore comfortable shoes on her feet, gray slacks, and a loose-fitting white sweater. Although her clothes weren’t high-end, Ms. Swiftwater gave off the aura she was used to the better things in life. Connor guessed she was in her late twenties.
“Good evening, Mister North,” said Swiftwater, getting to her feet and offering her slender hand in greeting.
“And a good evening to you, too, Ms. Swiftwater,” he replied, shaking her hand.
“Please, call me Kim.”
Connor smiled and let go of her hand. “And you can call me Connor.”
“Shall we?” she said, motioning at the plane’s comfortable seats.
“Why not? We’ve got a long flight in front of us.”
They sat across from one another. Kim reached for an open bottle of champagne and topped off her glass; when she went to pour Connor a drink, he placed his hand over the empty flute.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said firmly. “I don’t drink.”
Kim furrowed her brow. “Not even expensive champagne, especially when someone else is paying for it?”
Connor shook his head. “Not now, not ever. I haven’t had a drink for over a year, and I want it to remain that way.”
Kim placed the bottle down. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“How could you? We’ve just met.”
Connor saw Kim eyeing his casual clothing. She took a sip of champagne. “So, you’re my insurance policy should anything go wrong.”
Connor chuckled. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but I guess I am.”
“I know I’m good at my job; what makes you so special?”
Connor wasn’t used to strangers asking him about his qualifications and was slightly irritated, but he could see why Kim would be wary. He smiled and said, “Where do I begin?”
“I’ve always found that it’s best to start in the beginning.”
The flight attendant locked the front door and told her passengers to buckle up for the plane’s departure. A few minutes later, the jet taxied down the runway and lifted off into the night sky.
Connor waited until the attendant was busy at the front of the plane and then smiled at Kim. “Let’s see now. I was practically born with a rifle in my hands. My father was an Alaskan State Trooper, and he and I would go hunting when he wasn’t at work. So, from a very early age, I learned to respect the rifle I was carrying. Over the years, we hunted almost everything on four legs. By the time I was in my teens, I was an expert marksman. If you can believe it, aside from a school trip to Washington DC, I never left Alaska until I joined the Marines.”
“Why did you join the Marines and not the Army?” queried Kim.
“Family history, I guess. My father was a Marine for a few years, as was his father, and so on, all the way back to the Revolutionary War. Being a bit of a traditionalist, I thought it was the right thing to do and enlisted. After four years at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, I was commissioned as a second lieutenant and joined the Fifth Marine Regiment in Camp Pendleton, California. It didn’t take me long to realize that I liked being a Marine and requested to be transferred to the Marine Special Operations Regiment, which later became the Marine Raider Regiment. The training there was damned hard but very rewarding.”
“I take it you must have served overseas a couple of times?”
Connor nodded. “I was deployed overseas several times to Iraq and the Philippines before I resigned my commission and sought work elsewhere.”
“If you were happy being a Marine, Connor, why did you leave?”
Connor felt his throat tighten. “In a word, Rachel.”
“By the pained look on your face. I take it she was someone special.”
Connor nodded. “She was the most beautiful and caring person I have ever met, and it may sound corny, but for the two of us, it was love at first sight.”
Kim smiled and sat forward. “Where did the two of you meet?”
“In Hawaii. I was on leave and met her at a luau, of all things. She was with a few of her friends, but my eyes were instantly drawn to her.”
“It sounds quite romantic to me.”
“There was only one problem, her father.”
“And who was that?”
“A certain Mister Jason Hamilton.”
Kim almost spat out the champagne in her mouth and placed her flute down. “No way! You just made that up.”
Connor smiled and shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it’s all true.”
Kim’s eyes lit up. “Oh, this is getting good. What happened?”
“A month after we met, Rachel told her father about me, and he arranged for us to meet at their summer home in Southampton, New York. At first, he seemed like a nice guy, but when he and I went for a walk alone the night before I was due to fly back home, he offered me one hundred grand to walk away and never see or speak with Rachel ever again.”
Kim shuffled in her seat. “Let me guess, you turned him down and ran off with Rachel to get married anyway?”
Connor nodded. “That’s exactly what happened. When I told her what had happened, Rachel was livid, so we flew to Vegas and eloped. Of course, Jason and my parents were none too happy that we’d chosen to get married that way, but it was our decision, not theirs. And then one day, while I was deployed overseas, Jason picked Rachel up from the airport, and on the way home, a driver ran through a red light and smashed into the car.” Connor’s voice cracked. He paused for a second before continuing. “Rachel was killed outright, and yet somehow Jason managed to walk away without a scratch. To the best of my knowledge, the man who killed my wife fled the scene of the accident and has never been caught.”
