Read Irrefutable Proof: Mars Origin "I" Series Book II Online
Authors: Abby L. Vandiver
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jack
and Greg became fast friends on the plane ride over to Israel. Just like Jack
had with Mase. But then, Mase and Greg were always best buds, so it only stood
to reason that Jack would get along with them both.
Once
we boarded and got the signal that we could “move about the cabin,” Greg walked
back from first class to chat with us. He liked Jack, and I think he liked
Addie making google eyes at him, even if he didn’t, which I wasn’t sure of,
share her feelings. Usually, once Greg got settled into first class, that’s the
last I’d see of him until we got to where we were going.
We
made good time to Israel, and through customs. We rented a small SUV and took
off toward Jerusalem. Addie ooo’d and aww’d at everything she saw on the way
from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. Me and Claire enjoyed her excitement. Just like the
last trip I took with Greg, Claire and Michael, Claire, Addie and I got a
suite, and Jack and Greg bunked together.
But
Addie, after she changed clothes, and took her hair down (I’m guessing all to
look good for Greg), had us out of our rooms before we could unpack. She was
ready to go to the Population Registry of the State and get a copy of Ghazi’s
death certificate. She had Googled where to go on her phone while we were
waiting in line to go through customs.
When
she announced it, Greg didn’t even protest. If I’d known that all I needed was a
love struck girl by my side to make Greg do what I wanted him to do, I would
have tried that approach years ago.
On
the way there we stopped at Hebrew University. I wanted to check to see whether
Dr. Sabir’s notebook that I had sent to Ghazi had ever made it there. When we
got to the University, I found that nothing of Dr. Sabir’s was there. Not recognition
of his participation, and certainly not the notebook. It was gone.
Piling
back into the car, I was starting to get worried. Maybe all this had to do with
that notebook. I didn’t say anything about it, though, as we headed over to the
Population Registry. Claire got the death certificate for us. She told the rest
of us to stand out in the hallway, she’d go in with Greg. Then she asked Greg
if he had his bar card.
“Never
leave home without it,” he said.
She
concocted a story, she told us later, that Greg executed perfectly, or so
Claire claimed. He was representing a family member in the States who wanted to
find out about an insurance policy, but needed a copy of the death certificate.
If, he told them, he couldn’t take it with him, he’d brought a medical doctor
with him. Claire said that then Greg introduced her and told the guy at the
counter that she could take a look at it and determine if there appeared to be any
discrepancies as to the cause of death.
And
they handed it right over.
I
shook my head. Claire, coming up with such a plausible story? I couldn’t
believe it. I was thinking that the charade wasn’t even necessary. They
probably just pass out death certificates to anyone with twenty bucks just like
they do back home. But I didn’t say that to Claire. She was proud of her and
Greg’s acting. She had come back out waving it in the air, and we stood in the
hallway, all five of us huddled around her, and looked at the document.
Claire
said, “Oh my goodness. Ghazi was poisoned.”
“Oh
my, God,” I said. My mouth got dry, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes.
Addie
made an ‘I told you so face.’
“How?”
I couldn’t believe it.
“With
belladonna,” Claire said, and looked up at me. Her usual sparkling brown eyes
said it all. They were watered over and sad.
“Belladonna?
Isn’t that the stuff people used to put in their eyes to make them more
alluring?” Greg asked.
“How
do you know that, Greg,” I asked.
“Because
he’s smart,” Addie said.
“And,
I’m all about beautiful women. Isn’t that right, Addie.” She blushed. I wanted
to gag.
“Yeah,”
Claire said. “The same belladonna. It’s poisonous if ingested. It wouldn’t have
been a quick, painless death either.
He would have suffered. Maybe a headache, leading to
confusion, hallucinations and possibly even delirium.
“His heart would have beaten so fast that he would have felt
like it was coming out of his chest. His mind would have been fuzzy. He
would’ve been so disoriented that he probably wouldn’t have been able to even
stand.
“It’s written on here, on the certificate, the amount he
ingested. Let me think . . .” She hesitated, seemed to be calculating in her
head. “Yeah, you know I can’t be sure but it looks like, if I remember, that with
the amount he ingested, the onset of the symptoms would have been immediate,
and he probably would have died within fifteen to twenty minutes. But I’ll
check for sure when we get back to hotel.”
“His
death had been ruled a homicide,” Greg added. He took the death certificate
from Claire, folded it, and put it in his pocket. “I’ll hang on to it,” he
said.
I
hugged Claire. I remembered how she and Ghazi had become friends when we all went
to Jerusalem. She had even commented that he was salacious. Never did find out
what was going on between the two of them.
Addie
pulled out her phone again. “Let’s find out if there was a murder investigation.
It’ll be just like one of Harlan Coben’s books, solving a murder from years ago
to help solve a new crime.”
“What’s
the new crime, Addie?” I asked. “No one else has turned up dead, have they?”
She
wasn’t paying any attention to me. “Here, just let me look up where to find a
homicide detective, if that’s what they’re called over here. Maybe I can get
one over the phone.”
She
found the number and after a long game of “hold and get transferred ten times,”
we found out from the Ministry of Public Safety that the crime had never been
solved. Instead of trying to figure out where the investigation was on Ghazi’s
death over the phone, if it was even still an open case, we decided to head
over to the office of a nearby Israel Police.
No
luck there. We weren’t next of kin, and even Claire’s medical credentials didn’t
work like at the coroners. And no one cared that Greg was a big shot lawyer
from little ole’ Cleveland, Ohio.
So,
Jack and Greg got a cab and went back to the hotel. They wanted to get
everything ready for the dig to find Dr. Sabir’s buried treasure, and do a
trial run. They were going to get another rental car and drive out to where the
stuff was buried. We girls set off to see what else we could find out about
Ghazi.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
First
stop, Dr. Margulies’ old office. It was at the Israel Antiquities Authority,
housed in the Rockefeller Museum. On our way there Addie suggested we use
Facebook, and maybe try to find a relative or something.
“We
don’t have the name of a family member,” I said.
“Oh
shoot,” Claire said. “Greg’s got the death certificate. We could’ve found a
name on that.”
“We
could call him,” I said, digging around in my purse for my phone.
Looking
at me, Addie said, “Aren’t you, like, able to remember everything you see?”
“How
do you know that?” I eyed her suspiciously.
“Your
book. You wrote that in your book.”
“Oh
yeah,” I said, hesitantly. “But I see words. It’s not necessarily everything I
see.”
“Well,
didn’t you see a family member’s name on the death certificate?”
I
closed my eyes and saw the paper in my mind. A grin emerged across my face.
“What’s
the name?” Addie said. “I know you got it.”
I
did. It was his sister’s name.
Addie
and Claire waited in the lobby to try and find a Facebook page or something for
his sister on Addie’s iPhone. I went to Dr. Margulies’ old office.
After
not finding anyone in that office and walking the halls of Antiquities
Authority for what felt like more than half an hour, I realized this method was
getting me nowhere. Some people remembered Dr. Margulies, and one or two Ghazi,
but all they knew was that they both were dead.
I
headed back down to the lobby hoping Claire and Addie had had more luck.
From
the look on Claire’s face when I arrived, they had apparently had more luck
than me.
“We
talked to his sister,” Claire said.
“What’d
she say?” I asked.
“You
won’t believe this.”
“Claire,
you’re making me nervous. Just tell me what happened.”
“His
sister said that Ghazi had been in perfect health. That’s how she knew, after
she got to the hospital and heard what happened, that somebody must have done
something to him. It couldn’t be a heart attack or anything. She made the ME
check, and that’s when they found traces of the Belladonna. She said the police
weren’t doing much, so she looked into it. She said he had gone to a café on Hillel Street, and when he left, he collapsed not twenty yards away. Just right there on the
street corner. He died about four hours after they got him to the hospital.
“Some
guy, who had been at the café and left around the same time, was walking behind
Ghazi. He said that Ghazi was stumbling and acting confused, and then he just fell.
He caught him and rode in the ambulance with him. Just out the goodness of his
heart. And he told Ghazi’s sister what happened as far as he knew.
“Evidently,
Ghazi had had coffee at Hillel Café with an older woman, the guy said. This
woman looked to be in her late fifties, early sixties. So Ghazi’s sister goes
down to the café and finds this waiter that brought him coffee. The waiter, she
said, remembered both he and this woman well. Not only because a man got up from
one of his tables and dropped dead not more than a block down, but because he
said the woman smelled like roses.”
“Roses?
I asked. “Are you sure she said the waiter said the woman smelled like roses?”
Claire nodded. “C’mon.” I said, grabbing Claire’s arm and walking hurriedly
down the hallway towards the door.
Addison
trotted to catch up with us.
“Hold
on,” Addie said. “I just got another message from her. She said that Ghazi’s
building manager said some woman that smelled like roses had come to his
apartment that same day and said she was his aunt.” Addie looked up from
reading the message. She stared at me and Claire and said, “She says she
doesn’t have an aunt who would have gone to his apartment.”
“We
have to find out if Professor Abelson was around when Ghazi died,” I said.
“Who?”
Addie asked.
“Ghazi’s
sister said they were never able to find that woman. When did she come to Case,
Justin?” Claire asked.
“Who?”
Addie asked again, as she did a side-step to keep up with us.
“I
don’t know when she came,” I said, answering Claire’s question. “But I’m
calling home to find out, as soon as we get back to the room.”
“Who
is Professor Abelson?” Addie stopped in her tracks and put up her hands.
“The
lady who smells like roses,” I yelled back over my shoulder.
We
had some digging to do. No pun intended.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“This
looks like some really serious stuff you’re in to, Justin,” Jack said, studying
me. “If Ghazi’s death has anything to do with this . . .”
“I
know,” I said.
We
all sat around our hotel suite after we got back from the Israel Antiquities
Authority. Jack and Greg had gone out to the cypress tree where Dr. Sabir had
buried his box. They had assessed the grounds where we needed to dig, the
amount of traffic around it, and if the topography still looked like Dr.
Sabir’s map. They were going back after dark to see how it would look at night.
We were set to go and dig the next night.
We
all sat silently. Jack sat on one of the two bar stools at the breakfast bar where
Addie was percolating through the room the smell of hazelnut. She’d brought her
own coffee and was brewing it in the kitchenette. Me and Greg sat on the
brick-colored couch, Greg slouched down in it. He had two or three of the gold,
red, and cream-colored pillows propped behind his back. He had laid another
pillow on his stomach, and wrapped his arms around it. He seemed lost in
thought. I had one leg bent under me, my arm resting along the back of the sofa.
I looked over at Claire. Maybe this time, I tried to convey with my look, we
should be worried about people getting killed. She nodded as if she understood.
The
stretched silence was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Who
are you expecting, Justin?” Greg asked. He and Jack both stood up.
“Nobody.”
“I’ll
get the door,” Greg said.
Jack
crossed the room and stood opposite Greg. They did some little head nod. So
dramatic. What were they going to do if someone was there to harm me, or us?
What could they do? The rest of us just leaned forward, almost at the same
time, and looked toward the door.
Greg
called out, “Who is it.”
“Simon
Melas.”
“Simon,”
I said, hopping up. “Open the door, Greg.”
Simon
stood there in blue jeans, a plaid shirt, and a burnt orange pull-over jacket
with a sheepish grin on his face. His straight, shiny black hair was pulled back
into a ponytail, and he had a knapsack slung over one shoulder. He looked so
cute.
“So,
you gonna give me a hug, or is your husband lurking in the shadows somewhere?”
He poked his head in the door and looked around.
Back
to the old Simon.
“You
know he’s not here.” I grabbed him, and gave him a big ole’ squeeze. “What are
you
doing here?” I said, pulling him inside, and closing the door.
“Came
to check up on you and this motley crew you traded me in for.” He glanced
around the room. “Anybody here an archaeologist?” he said, looking back at me.
“Me.
And, now that you’re here, that makes two.”
He
laughed. “I’m not staying. I’m going to help out some archaeologists excavating
in the ancient Ophel area near the Temple Mount.”
“Help
out? Mr. Big time is helping out? You’re usually one of the ones running the
site. What’s going on with you and MIT that they’re letting you do this?”
“What
is going on with
you
? Going on treasure hunts,” he said.
“I
am not on a treasure hunt. I’m just looking into some things.”
“Yeah,
some secretive things.”
“Ha-ha.
Well, my secrets may not be much of a secret to you much longer, because like I
said, I may need your help. I might need help with deciphering some of the
clues in Enoch.”
“Clues?
Clues to what? Your buried treasure?” He teased. “I really think you should
leave all of this alone. It seems kind of weird.”
“Justin,”
Greg said, rudely interrupting my conversation. “Me and Jack got some stuff to
do. You’ll be alright with Simon here?”
“Oh
sorry. Simon, this is my brother, Greg.”
“I’ve
heard a lot about you, Greg, pleasure to meet you.” Simon reached out to shake
Greg’s hand.
Greg
grunted something at him, and said, “C’mon, Jack.” He turned back and looked at
me. “You okay, right?”
“Yes,
I am,” I nodded. “And Simon, that’s Jack,” I said as Jack passed by me, out the
door with Greg. “And this is my sister, Claire,” I pointed over toward the
chairs, “and a family friend, Addie.”
“Nice
to meet you all,” Simon acknowledged them. “Hey, Justin, I gotta go. I’ll call
you. When you leaving?”
“Day
after tomorrow.”
“Okay.
Well, think about what I said.” He reached over and kissed me on my cheek.
“I’ll check back in with you before then.” Simon backed out the doorway, waving
at everyone. I shut the door behind him.
“Who
is that?” Addie asked.
“My
secret lover,” I said coyly.
Claire
started laughing so hard she fell out the chair.