Chapter 27
Yvette’s words were greeted with something slightly resembling the Tower of Babel as each person tried to glean from her exactly what she meant. Finally Regan put two fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. "Where?" was his simple phrase.
"I wish it were that easy," she sighed. Her words were greeted with frowns until she held up one hand. "Never you fear. I do know where they are relatively. But specifically… that’s another story."
"Well at least we have something to go on," Jim said. "What can you tell us?"
"I’ll do better than that. I’ll show you. Come on." She headed back towards the car, stopping to take one last brief glance backwards at the ocean, leaving behind her a whispered "thank you."
When they had once again piled into the car, she began to speak. "When we were young, Jeremy and I used to try and communicate with each other in church. We were so loud it only ended up getting us in trouble. So we developed hand signals to talk. Some of it was based on sign language and the finger alphabet, but some of it we just made up."
"That’s what he was doing with his hands?" Mart asked.
"Yes," she smiled.
"What did he say?"
"He spelled out the phrase ‘Island of Psalms’.
"Island of Psalms?" Matt asked. "What does that mean?"
"Isn’t the Isle of Palms on the other side of Sullivan’s Island?" Jim asked.
"It is," Yvette answered.
"I wonder why he would have Psalms instead of Palms?" Regan mused. "You’re sure he said ‘Psalms’ and not ‘Palms’?"
"Maybe the clue is in that oddity right there," Mart replied.
"It was definitely ‘Psalms’. We’re headed to the Isle of Palms right now," she said.
"Well, let’s try and figure out what he might have been trying to say by using Psalms instead of Palms," Jim said.
"Psalms is the 19th book of the Old Testament. In it are 150 poetical songs, many but not all of them written by King David, formerly a mere shepherd boy," Mart said. "A myriad of human emotion is conveyed in the pieces from joy and excitement to anger and depression. The book is divided into 5 books. Psalm 119 is the longest Psalm with stanzas divided up by the use of the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Psalm 23 is probably the most well known Psalm read at funerals all over the world." After he finished his discourse, Mart received 4 pairs of raised eyebrows.
"Well, the boy certainly is correct about all of that," Yvette said, faintly amused.
"Okay. But where does that leave us now," Regan asked.
"Perhaps he was trying to tell us something about a place on the Isle of Palms, using numbers?" Jim mused.
"Could be," Matt answered. "Or a name? Who else wrote Psalms?"
"Some think Moses wrote some. Asaph. The Sons of Korah. Solomon. But David was the principle author of most of them."
Matt digested this information, trying to brush away the nagging voice in his mind. "Why don’t we wait until we get there, and see what comes to mind," he said hastily. The car traveled back across the Ashley, through town and over the Cooper River Bridge through Mount Pleasant. They crossed the Ben Sawyer Bridge once more but instead of turning right towards Sullivan’s Island, Yvette turned left. Soon, they found themselves driving down a quaint street lined with beach houses. Beyond those to the right of the car, they could see the moonlight glinting on the ocean. Presently, the houses gave way to a shop lined main street. It was deserted this time of evening, the nightlife having moved its way back to downtown Charleston. Pulling her car up to a parking meter, she stopped and they got out.
"Normally, this is the place to be during the day," Yvette said.
"This is better for us. Easier to search." Jim answered.
"Do you think we should be so obvious out here?" Regan asked. "What if we’re sitting ducks?"
"Regan’s probably right," Matt replied. "On the other hand, it won’t be easy to be inconspicuous without knowing what exactly we’re search for that will lead us to the girls." He stopped as his phone rung.
"Wheeler."
"It’s me," Jerry said. "Where are you?"
Not entirely wanting to answer the question, he sighed. "Out on the Isle of Palms."
"Taking a moonlight stroll, eh?"
"Not exactly."
"I didn’t think so. Matt, I can’t provide effective security for you unless you help me out with this."
Not many people were so bold as to talk to Matthew Wheeler that way, but in the interest of what Jerry was trying to do, he was willing to overlook it. "We think we’re on to something here."
"Stay put. I’m heading your way with some info. And for goodness sakes, stay out of sight until I get there. I’ll be in touch," Jerry finished with an exasperated tone.
Matt hung up his cell phone and looked at it with a frown before sliding it in his pocket. "Jerry’s on his way out here. Says he has some information. He doesn’t want us to move."
"That’s not a bad idea," Jim said to his father.
Matt looked at Jim for a few moments and then nodded. "Let’s hop back in the car and park somewhere out of sight."
They pulled the car to a secluded alcove between two buildings. Matt turned around in his seat to face the others. "I haven’t wanted to give thought to this before but I can’t shake this feeling."
"What?" Jim asked, looking at his father in concern.
"Well, it hadn’t occurred to me until Mart began reciting facts about the book of Psalms. But there is one person who has shown more interest in my family than anyone else down here has. I guess I just didn’t want to believe that he could have something to do with this. But it’s a possibility we have to face now."
"Who?" asked Regan.
"David Leigh."
"Leigh?" Jim asked. "But you’ve known him for years."
"Yes. I have. And I’d find it hard to believe that he could have something to do with this. Yet – I don’t know. Enough has started to fall into place that I think it’s a possibility we need to consider. Maybe he wasn’t as intoxicated as I thought when we spoke last night. He hasn’t appeared to show any interested in the controversy, but maybe that’s just an act."
"And his name certainly fits," Mart added.
"There’s that too," Matt conceded.
"Let’s say that it’s him. What would be the motive? What do you know about him that might help determine that?" Regan asked.
"We’ve had a few business dealings together. We first met when he took over the Kerr Corporation from me. They were involved in scientific research. I had bought it, restructured it and he came on board as CEO. Since then our contacts have been mostly at business meetings and functions such as this one. But we manage to get together for a drink every now and then and exchange Christmas cards. I think he’s currently heading up the Sherman Project but I’m unsure exactly what that involves."
"And he knew where we’d be yesterday?" Jim asked.
"Yes. We got to talking at the function last night. I didn’t think anything unusual about it. He was just asking in a polite manner about what you guys were up to while in the city. Or at least I thought that’s all it was," he muttered under his breath.
"But why? What reason would he have to do these things, if it is indeed him," Mart wondered aloud.
"That might be a question only he can answer," Yvette broke in. Whatever else she might have had to say was put on hold by the ring of Matt’s cell.
"Where are you," came Jerry’s voice.
"Are you on Main Street?"
‘Yep."
"Look for the neon sign for the "Southern Sugar Shack". We’re in the alley just beyond that."
"I see it. I’m pulling in now."
They could see Jerry’s nondescript sedan pull into the alley. Jerry got out and walked quietly over to Yvette’s station wagon. Mart moved back to the very rear of the vehicle and Jerry hopped in.
"I had hopes that you would leave the cloak and dagger to my men and me, but since you haven’t, I’ll fill you in on what we know."
"Jerry, just tell me one thing."
"What’s that?"
"This all has nothing to do with David Leigh."
Jerry sighed. "I wish I could. I know you two are old friends. But I think it has everything to do with Leigh. Aside from the cold hard fact that he has no alibi for any of the time periods in question, we have information linking him to the speedboat and dock, as well as the fact that he has since vanished."
Matt placed his head in his hands. "And I was the one who told him exactly where the kids would be today."
"Don’t blame yourself. If this guy is in fact responsible for everything, he’s desperate enough that he would have figured out where they were anyway. And if not them, who knows. He might have come after you instead. Now – time is not on our side, but the fact that he needs your daughter and Trixie to be alive and unharmed is."
Matt gave a sound akin to a groan. "What could be so wrong that he would resort to this? It’s a vote to determine whether or not gambling should be allowed in Charleston. It’s not a declaration of war on another country!"
"Who knows what his exact motive is. But you can bet that it more than likely has to do with revenge or money. Motives often do. Now, tell me how you came to suspect David."
Mart and Jim filled Jerry in on their trip to Folly Beach, and the ghost sighting as well as what they all felt it meant. Jerry was still on the skeptical side, but as his own information seemed to support David Leigh’s involvement, he said nothing against Yvette’s experience.
"So here we are then on the Island, or Isle, of Palms. And by the usage of ‘Psalms’, you came up with David Leigh’s name."
"Inadvertently."
‘So where does that leave us?"
"Here. On the Isle of Palms."
"The question is – did Yvette’s husband give her the phrase for the name only, or is there some other reason?’
"There’s more," Yvette broke in. She had been quietly listening to the conversation. Now the others turned to her.
She nodded her head once again wisely. "There’s more. I know it. There’s a reason we’re here. The girls are here. Close."
Chapter 28
"Are you sure?" Jerry asked.
She looked at him with something close to disdain. "I’m positive."
Jerry wasted no time dialing a number on his cell phone. "Paul. I need that information on Leigh now. What’s taking you guys so long." He stopped and listened for a minute. "Yeah, we’re pretty sure he’s the one and we’re pretty sure that the girls are here on the island. We just don’t know where. I’m hoping that something in that file will give us a clue."
He stopped again. "Great. Just read down the list and we’ll sort it out until you guys get here." Waving a hand around to the others, he began to recite the information he was hearing.
"CEO since 2000 of Schuler and Burrow, makers of pharmaceuticals… co-coordinator of the Sherman Project, a gene therapy research experiment… founder of the Leigh Foundation, a charitable corporation for families affected by diabetes… co-authored the – wait. Go back up to the Sherman Project," he snapped. He listened for no longer than a minute and then broke in. "That’s it. It has to be. What’s the address? 119 Long Isle Boulevard. Got it. How close are you? Good. Keep driving until you reach the neon sign for the Southern Sugar Shack. Pull into the alley just beyond the place. It’s pretty deserted and I think it’s far enough away that we can meet out of sight." He hung up the phone without another word.
"What?" Matt demanded.
"I think we got him. The Sherman Project is a collaborative effort with Leigh’s Alma Mater NYU and the Medical University of South Carolina. They have been working on gene therapy research for the last 10 years."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"MUSC has a storage facility located here on the Isle. 119 Long Isle Boulevard, two blocks up."
"119 Long Isle," Matt intoned. "Psalms 119."
‘Now the light bulb goes on," Jerry grinned. "Are you ready to see your kids again?"
"Don’t get my hopes up. It’s still a long shot."
"Have faith, my friend. Have faith."
Matt knew that he and Jerry had never really had much opportunity to get to know one another outside of casual acquaintance, but looking at the man seated behind him now, he knew that Jerry’s words were correct. This friendship would last a lifetime.
"Jer – " Matt said.
"Yeah?" Jerry was busy looking out of the back window for any sign of his partners.
"When this is all over – Cityguard has the contract on my company’s – and my home security." Although he had difficult getting the words out without wavering, his message was clear enough. Jerry turned to look Matt in the eyes. "You got it man. You got it."
Presently, a Jeep Cherokee pulled up into the alley. Jerry got out and motioned for the others to sit tight. After a few minutes, he came back to the station wagon. "My other two men are outside the building. They just saw Leigh go inside. We’re convening over there to make our move. It would be best if you all stay here."
"Over my dead body," Matt said.
Jerry frowned at him. "We’re going to have to set some guidelines about your involvement in security," he said, even as he was opening the door for Matt to get out.
The others except Yvette who had volunteered to go for help should they not return in a reasonable amount of time, piled out of the car and stood still and quiet with Jerry’s partners waiting for him to direct them. "Okay – here’s the deal. If you’re to be involved, you do as I say. One wrong move and – well, you’ve all already seen what he’s capable of. Agreed?"
He looked around and seeing everyone nod, waved a hand for them to follow him out of the alley. They silently crossed the street and ran down the block, turning left at the next corner. Up one more block was Long Isle. They slowed down as they approached and waited. In a minute, two men appeared from just around the corner. They were dressed similarly to Jerry and his two partners in black jeans and t-shirts. Unnoticeable to anyone, each man had a pistol strapped to his lower leg.
"What’ve you got?" Jerry asked the men.
"We should wait. He was outside talking on his cell. Someone’s coming to bring him some sort of delivery. He said he’d come out to the car for it. Once he goes back inside is our best chance for making a move."
"Can you tell anything about the place?"
"We can do better. Lawrence sent the blue prints to Phillip’s PDA. Connections or something in city hall."
"Must be nice."
"Yeah. Anyway, it seems the most likely place for him to be keeping anyone is in the basement. We won’t know that of course until we’re inside."
"Does it seem like anyone’s with him?"
"We’ve no indication anyone else is inside with him. Tom and Steve are working on finding the owners of the dock. They appear to have left town in a hurry."
"It seems then, that a surprise entry is our best means of doing this, unless we can find another way."
"Well, there are no other entrances. It does look like the building takes up quite a large area of space. The basement occupies only one third of the ground level and second story floor space. You get to it by going down these stairs. The entrance is here, and on the opposite side of the building are these stairs to the second story, which is apparently a loft and an office. There is a place across the street that we can keep surveillance from. I’ve got the NVG’s."
"Okay Mike, go tackle that angle. Phillip, go with him. Radio when you can give us some position information."
They nodded and moved stealthily across the street removing, Mike removing his night vision goggles from a small pouch around his waist.
"Now what?" Matt asked with growing impatience.
"Now – we wait. We need more information. Blueprints are all well and good, but we’ve got to have more to go on to be sure."
Matt, Jim, Regan and Mart knew that Jerry was right. But the wait was slowly killing each one. The other two security men, Andrew and Jake dutifully waited sensing that action was near.
Jerry’s radio crackled softly. "We’re in place. A late model foreign sedan just pulled up. We’ve got the plates. Doesn’t look like he delivered much - just a small briefcase. Leigh’s gone back inside and locked the place up tight."
"Good. What else do you see?"
"There are no lights on in the front room. Looks like he’s taken the staircase at the right of the building to the upstairs though. The second floor light just went on."
"Time to make our move. I’m coming in."
"Stay here. I mean it," Jerry said to Matt and the others. "We need to get that door unlocked and the more people that are crowded around that door, the better chance of him hearing something." Matt reluctantly nodded as Jerry moved off to the front door of the building, taking care to tread softly.
A small gadget knife contained a thin sliver of a tool and he went to work on the door. The soft metallic sounds sounded like firecrackers in the still night air. A short time later however, he slowly turned the lock on the door. Making hand signals behind him, without even looking he knew that his men were right behind him as he entered the building. Slowly and silently they crept up the stairs intent on surprising Leigh.
Jerry pulled his pistol from his leg holster and aimed it as he crept through the door at the top of the stairs. "FREEZE!" he yelled, kicking the door open wide, the others crowding around him. But instead, Jerry and his men all froze when they saw what he held in his hand.
"Lower your weapons," he said calmly. "I don’t think I have to tell you of my fondness for little gadgets and remote control detonators. Nor should I have to tell you what this will detonate if you come any closer."
"You’re bluffing," Jerry managed to get out. "That couldn’t detonate a match stick."
"Shall we try? I am sure the lovely Miss Wheeler and Miss Belden would look so much nicer with even darker tans. And besides – it wouldn’t take much – would it?"
Jerry knew that his best course of action was to keep the man talking either long enough to be able to get control of the device or for someone to get the idea that they needed to go for help. "Why? Why David? I mean, you have everything. What’s a little gambling to you?"
"I know the tactic Jerry. Keep me talking, right? It won’t work. Not anymore. I wasn’t intent on harming them. But I’ve now decided that Wheeler should suffer a little, just like all the rest. Nothing ever seems to touch that Golden Boy," he said, almost to himself. "Until now."
"NO!" Later, Jerry wasn’t sure where the screamed word came from – himself, or someone else. All he knew was that the building shook with the force of a blast that seemed to come from well within it’s bowels, but was strong enough to throw he and his men to the floor.
To Be Continued