Final Turn: A story of adventure, intrigue and suspense. (8 page)

Roger turned back towards the car. Sam was just coming up the old road towards him. She was carrying something under her arm. She turned from the road and stopped beneath the branches of the trees. She placed what she was carrying on the ground and sat on it, waiting for Roger to come up to her. As Roger approached he saw she was sitting on a blanket spread out neatly beneath her. She must have stowed it in the car before they left. She had a look about her that told him that she would not be interested in any more theories about an armored car and a moving van.

The slam of a car door brought Sam out of her sleep. She had arrived at the military museum at nine and when she discovered that it would not open until ten she waited in her car, and slept. Beside her stood an old red
Mercury with plenty of chrome and white wall tires. It looked an appropriate car to be driven by the curator of a museum.

The curator had been clearly astonished to see anyone there so early, especially someone who was not from out of town. He was a civilian employed by the military to look after the museum. He made that quite clear as he lead Sam towards the back of the building, his voice reflecting back to her without distortion from the high, inwardly curved walls. His heels banged on the hard floor with more energy than there should be in such an old man. A look about him suggested they had built the place around him. The lines around his mouth and eyes were not new to Sam; she had seen them before, perhaps in a younger face.

Half way across the museum floor he stopped and turned back towards Sam. Above him, suspended from the beams of the ceiling, several aircraft hung in attitudes suggesting fight. The large main floor area held more than a dozen aircraft. He stood in forceful concentration. For a moment it seemed like the bent over old man would be able to recover the information that Sam sought from his memory. He seemed a careful man, one who knew that people who came to libraries and museums to look up facts wanted just that; facts, not guesses. He brought his hand to his chin and without a word he turned again and led her into a small office. There he looked at some scanned documents on a screen. Sam peered anxiously over his shoulder. He vaguely remembered the name 'Grawitz' but had to refer to the archives to determine the exact year of retirement. He turned back to her with a look that defied any suggestion that he might not have been able to find it. The curator then set Sam at a table in a small library and brought her copies of a military newspaper. A long wooden dowel held each one together. He told her those were all the copies of the newspaper that covered the 'period of interest'.

Sam began with January, looking only at the front page of each copy. It was most likely that a story of a retiring Colonel would be on the front page.  If not, she would go through each monthly issue page by page. She stopped at July, but not because she had come across an article on Grawitz. It was a story about a retirement, but not the Grawitz retirement. She was looking at a photo of General Lindquist. Half the front page was taken up by a large photo of General Robert Milton Lindquist, D.F.C., Ph.D., P. Eng., M.D.

The headline read: "GENERAL LINDQUIST LEAVES COVER OF DISTINGUISHED INTELLIGENCE CAREER." Two entire pages, in addition to the front-page headline, were devoted to the event. Following that was another page of historical and current photos of the general during his career. There was a history of his family with distinguished military service back three generations in England. Sam noticed the curator watching her. The old man had taken a chair off to the side and sat as if a mere glance would bring him back to her side. She wondered if she should explain why she was looking at the Lindquist story instead of going on to find an article on Grawitz. She wasn't exactly sure herself.

The paper traced his career through Military College, twelve years of service as a fighter pilot followed by a series of ever more obscure postings in the Military Intelligence Divisions in National Defense Headquarters. The last of these he apparently held for three years, although at this point nothing much was stated explicitly. The military knew how to keep its own secrets and how to protect its personnel. It did mention that he left the services with wealth of knowledge in military computer security and data encryption/decryption technology. One article stated that the military could expect to see the general again in the capacity of a civilian contractor. Sam and most anyone who cared to know already knew all of this.

Sam looked through the page of photographs that followed the articles. They began with old photos of Lindquist as a boy. Every photo from the age of twelve onward showed him wearing a uniform. The first was as a scrawny kid in an Air Force Cadet Uniform. The last set of photos, a full fifty years later, was of a gala, full military honors retirement bash. There were photos of Lindquist shaking hands and chatting with the high social elite of the country. The Prime Minister had been there, as had many senior politicians and military personnel from
Canada and abroad. Much of his boyhood good looks had been retained throughout his active military life. He stood young, tall and handsome amongst the guests.

Sam went on to September. There she found a similar article on Colonel Grawitz. It also had a set of photographs albeit not so extensive. She would need that for her files. It did not give her anything that Mrs. Grawitz had not already given to her, yet she had to start somewhere as she was expected to produce a complete dossier. Mrs. Grawitz would need documentation for the proceedings concerning the inheritance claim. Sam asked the curator if she could have scans of the pages of interest. He told her it would cost 25 cents per page.
She followed the man to a closet like room attached to the library that held a photocopy machine and asked for copies of both articles. She thought Roger might be interested in reading the article about his boss. Remembering that Lindquist had mentioned that he knew the curator, she thought it best to explain.

"I'm a Genealogist." she looked at him to see how that went across. Not too clearly, if the expression on his face was an indication. "I have been contracted by Colonel Grawitz' widow to produce a family tree. She is interested in his ancestors." That seemed to do a better job. "Also several of my friends work in General Lindquist's company. They might find the article on his retirement interesting." He did not really seem to care why she wanted the scans and proceeded with the scanning task.

"I also would like to know how I could obtain some information about court martial proceedings. There may a court martial in Colonel Grawitz’ family history. Is there anywhere else I can go?" Sam was beginning to feel like a regular sleuth. This was the best of genealogy, with spicy twist. The curator seemed to duly note her question and store it until he was finished with copying. Several times he stopped to examine the photos. He looked at Lindquist's photo while nodding and biting his lower lip. His throat made little sounds midway between a growl and a hum. When he was done he handed Sam her copies, accepted her money and asked if she still needed the newspapers. She said she didn't and he returned them carefully to their places. Finally, he returned to her.

"Now young lady. Do I understand that you are also seeking a source on military court martial proceedings?" He looked at her as if this was an entirely new problem, clearly a 'one thing at a time' man.

"Yes", said Sam.

"That is not so easy. We do not have any of that type on information here. I do understand that there is special library in Ottawa where you may go." Then the old man brought his hands up and looked as if he was about to make a confession.

"I do know General Lindquist. I met him several years ago. Before I was fortunate enough to be given the position as curator. You know, I often wonder if maybe they built this place as much for a place to keep me as for these old airplanes and records. I'm older than most of these things in here." he said that with mischievous twinkle. "As I was saying, I was a court stenographer. When I came across Lindquist that is. I worked only in the military courts. They took on part time civilians whenever they had cases come to court." He walked back over to the table and offered Sam a chair as an indication that he himself wanted to sit. This was going to take a while Sam concluded as she accepted.

The curator gathered himself together as if he were going to tell a late night spook story to a bunch of kids around a campfire. "About six months before I left there was a general court martial. A young man, a pilot, had been charged with selling nuclear weapons control codes to a foreign agent. Can you imagine that? A young man charged with such a thing. And he was innocent of the whole thing. It was a long trial, but it ended well. Near the end there was secret testimony given by an expert witness. All very hush, hush. He was a specialist in military computers. Information scrambling or some such thing. If you ask me, most of their information is already scrambled well enough." Sam thought he was going to look around to see if anyone else was listening. He just paused, maybe hoping to add effect.

"He was someone who was able to show that the young man could not have obtained the codes and offer them for sale. It would not have been possible. That testimony was made in private, no courtroom attendants. There were no court stenographers during that part of the trial. In fact, I had been removed as court stenographer because I had a 'personal affiliation', as they called it, with the accused. They made everyone leave. The military makes its own rules you know." He had seated himself directly across from Sam and spoke with reminiscent excitement.

"What does all that have to do with General Lindquist?" Sam asked, hoping not to sound too pointed. This old curator had led a varied career, often in the service of high officials. He seemed to type who would confide in someone who didn't represent any authority. ‘That’s me,’ Sam thought, ‘no authority’.

"Well, sure it has something to do with him. General Lindquist was the expert witness. That was his specialty after he stopped flying. He had studied computers for years and was not only technically expert but also he was in charge of the entire computer security effort in the armed forces. He knew everything about computer security and data encryption before most people knew what it was." He beamed his satisfaction at being such a fountain of knowledge. He was nearly rubbing his hands together. But then he stopped, as if he had no more to say on the subject.

"What happened in the end? What became of the pilot who had been charged?" Sam asked.

"Nothing. Well, not nothing. He was given an honorable discharge and that was the end of it. You never know what actually happens in those cases. The military doesn't have to tell everyone what they are doing. Somehow they made a deal with him. Probably it was the General who set it up. If you ask me, I think this young man knew so much that they offered him an easy way out if he kept quiet. That's what I think." He said the last part as if he knew a lot more than he was saying.  "But there was a sad thing about that too. You know that lawyer, the one who got the young fellow off, well he died in an aircraft accident about a month later. I don't know that it would be easy to find out a lot about that trial. Especially with that lawyer gone. Unless, of course, you wanted to ask the General. I'll bet he knows a lot more than he'll tell you."

"Your memory is impressive. Do you remember the name of the accused pilot?" Sam wasn't sure why she asked.

"Now you have me Miss. That is not something I'd be taking to forgetting. I have to tell you. That young man is my son." He said that without a bit of a guilty note. "He came out of it completely innocent. As he should have. It took some doing by this Lindquist but they finally realized his innocence. Serious business that is though. Selling the country’s secrets. It is a good thing that they are careful about it. So you see, I do know General Lindquist. I'll always be very grateful to that man."

From his jacket pocket he took a business card and handed it to her with anything but casualness.

"They give us these. They give them to everyone. They gave me two hundred. Two years ago. After you take this one I still have 198 of them left. And I lost one. If I can help again please call."

Sam had to laugh at him. "Thank you very much. You can't imagine how much help you've already been." His card gave the name of J.R. Fischer, Curator. Sam rose to leave. This had all been a considerable revelation.

"Tell me Miss. Why did you wish to know the name of the young pilot?" Sam wondered if the old man now regretted having told her so much about his personal life and his son. She knew that there was more to this than she was able to understand at the time. “General Lindquist still associates with a number of military personnel. I want to make sure we don't bring up any awkward names during our celebration. We are going to have a 'roast' of a kind, you know. A good friend of mine, Roger Blackstone works for General Lindquist."

He looked at her for a brief moment, seemed to accept that as reasonable and extended his hand. "Roger Blackstone you say. Well, good day… Miss?"

"Samantha Walsh. Thank you very much Mr. Fischer." Sam left with a concern that she had come in with an interest in Colonel Grawitz and she had left with General Lindquist and Jack Fischer on her mind. Once out of the parking lot she immediately regretted that she had not told Mr. Fischer that she knew his son.

Now she knew where she had seen those facial lines before.

On the surface Lindquist managed the firm with all the polite formality and charm of a foreign diplomat. Just beneath that, there was a manner bred by years of service in the highly structured and differentiating society of the military. There was always a sense of order and rank, a sense of respect due and of obedience expected. He transmitted this to those around him. Lindquist was not accustomed to negotiation with his subordinates; he never imagined anything but unmitigated loyalty from them. Still, most former habits had yielded to ones more acceptable in a private society. He didn't order people about now, not in the same way. However, he did keep them on edge, vulnerable and dependent upon himself. There was always an element of sparring during a conversation with Lindquist. If someone said something wrong, it was more than just wrong, it meant they had been ‘caught’.

The company was young and still growing. Lindquist had chosen his field well and had nearly dominated the specialized market. He had gone into business well prepared and well equipped and had chosen his employees carefully. Jack had come into the company in a way that often puzzled Roger. Jack had left the air force to return to university and with his new degree in computer science he had come directly to EDS to manage the operations. He did that well. He managed all client installations, service and support. EDS itself also had considerable computer and communications equipment. This included some very specialized hardware and software used for computer security applications. Jack had specialized in computer security in school and knew all the latest techniques and systems.

It was neither Jack’s ability nor his qualifications that puzzled Roger. Jack was strong, an ex-fighter pilot. He was quick, decisive and cocksure, usually several steps ahead of everyone else. Everyone had come to respect him, in and out of the office. Since he had joined the gliding club, he had quickly become one of the most capable pilots and perhaps the fiercest competitor. Jack had been personally successful and his home and other possessions gave testimony to that.

Roger was surprised to see Lindquist walk casually into his office at nine o'clock in the evening, long after everyone else had gone home. Roger was sorting through some of the issues with the eStorage account. The system had been running well for the last week and the company gave key-cards to all their clients for their rentals. In two days they would be running their utilization reports. They had already generated invoices for the clients who used the system. With the utilization reports they would be able to cross check the system's information with their manual records. If they went for another two days with no reported problems, the system was accepted according to the terms of the contract. EDS would receive the final payment and Roger would get his commission. He wanted that. There had been too much talk about lucrative real estate deals with Hong Kong companies and he wanted to get in on that. This money would do it, perhaps even launch him and Sam into the class of house that Jack and Trudy occupied. Perhaps that would be a good time to ask Sam to marry him as well.

The only anomaly in the eStorage system was those spurious records from the fourteenth. They had still not yet been explained and now Roger had discovered another very peculiar thing about them.

"Working late? No problems I trust." Lindquist said as he came in the door.

"No, nothing serious." Roger said, not sure if he should offer Lindquist a chair. "eStorage is going to run their accounting programs soon and I just want to be sure that we pass muster for that acceptance criterion."

"That's good. Any problems?" Lindquist asked again as he took a chair. Roger knew that he hardly ever asked a direct question to which he did not already know the answer.

"Nothing lately. There was one small unexplained event on the first day the system was turned on." Roger explained the general nature of the problem. He underplayed it somewhat so as not to alarm him. Lindquist showed no reaction and Roger had the distinct feeling that he already knew about it.

"It was strange enough that those records should be there. No one is able to explain who used a test card to operate the gate or a moving truck on that morning. Now I find something else. Something even more difficult to explain." Roger studied Lindquist's face to see if he was interested. He gave that away easily with a raised eyebrow and eyes that begged Roger to continue.

"Those records are no longer on the computer. Someone deleted them. I called eStorage and talked with the storage compound supervisor and with their accountant. They checked their own computer and the records are gone from there as well. Bill had taken a copy of their data and put it on our computer to verify his software. Both our copy and their copy are gone, that would take a deliberate effort by someone."

Lindquist didn't seem to be listening. He had crossed his arms and was looking about him intently, studying the objects in the office. He seemed less interested in what they were than in what they might tell him about Roger. It reminded Roger of Lindquist's habit of studying people's clothing. It always made Roger feel vulnerable, uncomfortable. Perhaps it was just another ruse that Lindquist used to keep people on edge. Then Lindquist's shining blue eyes met Rogers' squarely.

"And what do you think that means?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. I think Jack did something with the records. I noticed from the computer communications logs that Jack accessed our computer from his home computer a few nights ago. I checked with eStorage and he accessed their computer on the same night. He might have removed them from both computers."

"That sounds very reasonable Roger. Why do you still have a problem with it? Is it that you wanted to explain them further? I don't really think it is necessary if the system is working satisfactorily now." Lindquist said.

"I want to make sure there are no latent problems. Two more days with no problems and we are through the acceptance period." Roger did not mention that he was anxious to get his commission. Lindquist would understand that well enough and he never liked to talk about money outside the sanctity of his own office. Lindquist did have his own interest in getting through the acceptance period. There was a large hold back in payment from eStorage that would be due at that time.

"We’re all anxious to see the system accepted. It seems to me that it will be accepted and exactly on schedule." Lindquist delivered that with a tone of certainty. He liked to project an air of confidence.

He continued, "It was a bit risky of Jack to have gone away to Hong Kong on the very day before the installation. Yet, it seems that he got away with it. We all got away with it. I understand we can thank Bill for much of that." Lindquist paused and replaced his facial expression with one of admonishment. "I want to impress upon you the importance of your own role. The sale to eStorage is done. Jack and Bill will take care of whatever remains. It is time to get on with new accounts. It is time for you to leave this little success behind and find another one."

Roger flushed slightly at the open reprimand. The time spent digging into this was perhaps not defensible. Then Roger remembered that he had failed to tell Lindquist about Bill's role in getting the system running and covering while Jack was away. He knew Bill was expecting that from him. As the Marketing Director it was Roger's job to make sure the boss knew who had made extra contributions. Yet Lindquist already knew about it. Bill would not have gone himself to see Lindquist. How had Lindquist known? The only other person who knew was Jack. In spite of their peculiar relationship, Jack and Lindquist did have their own line of communication. Perhaps Jack had told him, to defend against a suggestion by Lindquist that it had been risky to take his Hong Kong trip at that time. If that were the case, Jack had probably also told Lindquist about Roger's ideas concerning the armored car robbery, especially the part about the eStorage
truck. Lindquist should have some interest in that. Before Roger could get to that subject, Lindquist had one of his own.

"Have you been doing much with the investment club lately?" Lindquist asked as he reverted to a more casual posture in his chair. It served as a signal that this was no longer a business discussion, rare for the man.

"Not much. That last deal tied me up for a while. I hope to do something soon though." Roger didn't really have much to say. He was certain that Lindquist had brought up the subject for another reason. Roger waited.

"I've been lucky with some property I have on the West Coast." Lindquist went on. "A firm from Hong Kong purchased about a hundred acres. I did make a good profit from that. I really don't think that investment club is a viable scheme. Too many constraints. Too many people involved in simple decisions. I actually offered that same hundred acres to the investment club instead of that property they bought. Now there is a problem with sub-division with the property they selected. Mine sold easily. At the next investment club meeting I will offer my shares for sale. I prefer to act on my own. That is the only way I have had any success."

Roger looked at Lindquist and began to understand the man better. He was like most others, ambitious, anxious for money. Perhaps he was greedy. Roger always found it amazing how people made money. It seemed almost universally true that the less work or skill there was involved in something, the more money there was to be made. Buy, wait and sell had made more people a lot richer than practicing a skill or a trade to produce something of value. Lindquist looked the type who knew those ways and had the money to exploit the opportunities. It was unusual for him to be discussing these things with Roger. He wasn't saying much about what he had actually done, but he did make it clear that he had been making money at it. It seemed like that was all he wanted Roger to know. Both Jack and Lindquist were now making money on real estate; both with some Hong Kong connections and both had found it necessary to go outside the investment club to do it. Roger could see no reason why he could not do the same. He would also offer his shares to one of the other members. There was little doubt that Sam would agree to that. She had always been somewhat reticent about the investment club although it had been her idea for them to get involved. There may have been more to her motivations than finances.

"I understand that Jack made a similar deal with his farm property". Roger said. Lindquist returned an inquisitive look. Roger added, "I mean, he sold it to a firm from Hong Kong as well. I spoke with him at the gliding field the other day."

That brought Lindquist back to his stilted posture.

"He told you that?" Lindquist asked with an incredulous note. He had resumed his air of superior nobility. Talking with this man always was a pendulum act swinging between familiarity and reserved aggression.

"Yes he told me that." Roger said purposefully. Roger wondered if Lindquist also knew about Jack's land deals. He never knew what Lindquist knew. He thought he might as well get back to his original subject.

"I talked with Jack about that armored car robbery that was in the news lately. It happened just down the street. It may well be that the truck mentioned in the news reports came from the eStorage compound. The anomalous records I looked at were dated the morning of the robbery. If there is a connection, it could be a great publicity boom for us. Our system might prove a major factor disclosing what happened. And on its very first day in operation, no less. I also believe that Jack's old farm was somehow ....."

Lindquist came to his feet in an explosive motion.

"I have just finished telling you the importance of tending to business here. You have wasted enough of your own time and others with this obsession. If you don't have the good judgment to return to your proper activities I will have to reconsider your effectiveness as Director of Marketing."

Lindquist stepped to the doorway. He was furious. He turned and looked back at Roger. He certainly did not have the look of someone who wanted to hear any more theories.

"I expect you to drop this matter immediately. Next week I expect to you to present me with a marketing plan for the next six months. I want to see a plan to address new customer areas, new product plans and sales forecasts that can be relied upon. Don't forget." With that Lindquist turned and left.

Roger sat shocked. He knew it would be wise to drop the whole thing and get on with Lindquist's request for market reports and projections. Yet, he had learned to trust his instincts more than his reasoning, whenever the two disagreed. His instincts told him that Lindquist did not really need marketing reports.