NOTE: If you haven’t been following this from the beginning, and if you want to know the full sequence of events, start with the introduction. Click on Archives on the right.
Even the cicadas are silent. There aren’t many in this year’s summer heat, which is more like a flood that a wave. A few of their finger-sized holes can be seen in the dry clay path we follow, passing by the remains of that old mansion, The Ashes.”
“It’s amazing to think that ruin includes the whole hilltop in its estate.”
“Fred, it is amazing to think this lot has not been subdivided.”
“Where are all the ash trees?”
“The emerald ash borer wiped them out around here.
“There is something else very strange going on, though!”
“Like insects?”
“Ah, no, I was up here, back in 2016, with Diddlie. We were looking for Mr. Liddell.”
“Who brought him up here?”
“She said he had escaped up here before, so this is where we looked.”
“That’s right, she said something about it to me.”
“Anyway, we got separated, because she started gathering flowers especially goldenrod.”
“Yeah, she’s been doing that ever since I’ve known her.”
“I looked into that old garage.”
”I know, it seems to be in good condition.”
“Found Rank Majors in there, working on a vehicle.”
“Rank! what he was doing there?”
“Lou, I have never mentioned this to anyone.”
“That was probably wise, where Rank is concerned.”
“Let me tell you. It is fitted out as a shop. He was working from the old grease pit.”
“Do you remember what make was the vehicle?”
“I don’t remember because he dropped a bolt or a wrench or something.”
“What has that got to do with it?
“The thing fell into the pit and then went down further! A big distraction.”
“What do you mean further?”
“Lou, I tell you, there is a big installation under here.”
“You mean, under our feet?”
“Possibly, I got disoriented down there.”
“So, you followed Rank down there?”
“No, I saw Mr. Liddell going down into the pit and went after him. I found a big server farm, isles and aisles of IT equipment on racks.”
“In the pit?”
“No, through a narrow metal door off the far end of the pit and down a lot more steps.”
“I have been in that garage, but this is news to me.”
“Yeah, a guy called Stan, stopped me. At least his voice did. Didn’t see him at first, and when I did, I recognized him from when they dug the deep foundation for that place on the old Sloot lot.”
“Stan, huh? Are you sure he was using ‘Stan’?”
“Certain, as I said, I had seen him before.”
“Fred, don’t talk about it to anyone else.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I have heard rumors and whispers about a subterranean installation here but never got confirmation like this.”
“Stan had not seen Mr. Liddell and didn’t know who Diddlie was.”
We have stopped in the shade of some juniper trees covered with wild grape vine.
“Someone screwed up, big time, if you got in there. I am sure of that.”
”So, what are you thinking, super-secret government stuff?”
“Could be organized crime.”
“Do you think I would have got out alive if that was it?”
“Who knows?”
“Diddlie told me it was dead people’s data.”
“How does she know?”
“She said she just figured it out herself.”
”So, she is aware of this too!”
“I don’t know. She didn’t seem surprised, though.”
“Buried corpses and buried data. I guess it makes some kind of sense.”
“Come on Lou, spit it out! What is down there?”
“I honestly don’t know and don’t want to know. Even criminals make mistakes.”
“Stan led me to a pull-down ladder, like you have for an attic. I climbed up and through a hatch into a hallway with a small bedroom off it. It was over the mansion’s garage, I think, near the kitchen which is still intact.”
“Fred, this isn’t adding up!”
“No, it didn’t at the time.”
“Did you find the white rabbit?”
“Mr. Liddell was in the bedroom and ran off from under an eiderdown.”
“And Diddlie, where did she get to?”
“I found her in the kitchen arranging flowers.”
“That at least, does make sense because we use that kitchen for community parties on the lawn.”
“So, is it dead people’s data collected down there?”
“I doubt it.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Something the secret owner of this vacant lot wants to keep secret.”
“Well, the lot must be worth several million.”
High-pitched mosquitos make the only movement in the humid air, winging out of sight.
Lou smacks his ear and looks at his hand.
“Missed!”
“Those things feel your hand coming through the air.”
“Right, that’s why fly swatters are made of wire net.”
“So, what kind of net have we under here?”
“You know, I suspect the Leiden Organization may be mixed up in this.”
“Why Leiden Organization?”
“The Leiden Organization is now a loose cooperative of many different groups.”
“Yes, I read that they are involved with drug money.”
“They have huge government and corporate contracts, too.”
“Okay, so they can do all kinds of things!”
“Right Fred, but it is also very profitable.”
“Sure, think how the value of the Sloot house has gone up.”
“And that is just a minute part of the enterprise.”
“Who lives there now?”
“Westard North, I think, but he is not the owner.”
“Do you know who is?”
“The county record just shows, ‘de Geer Properties’.”
“That sounds familiar for some reason.”
“The same name is listed for the Trip house after he went bankrupt back in 2014.”
“That’s it. I am told, Jake’s first wife was Margret Geer!”
“The marriage didn’t last long.’
“Was she an heiress or something?”
“I don’t know but the story is that he was very young and fell in love with an ‘older woman’.”
“The woman or her fortune?”
“No, I understand it was true love.”
“Like Emmanuel Macron!”
“There you are stranger things have happened!”
“So, if de Geer is a shell, it owns three properties, in Fauxmont, on whose behalf?”
“Well, let’s see, The Ashes estate, the old Sloot house, and Jake Trip’s house.”
“All those properties have exceptionally deep basements.”
“I have found some other of mysterious connections.”
“Yes, this has the odor of The Leiden Organization, alright.”
“Ever heard of Van Rijn Estates?”
“Well of course, Paula Pocock used to live there with her mother.”
“They are part of the mix.”
“What do you mean, ‘the mix’?”
“When I was searching the county tax records and found de Geer Properties, I also found the Van Rijn Estate was sold to the developer by de Geer.”
“Who was the realtor?”
“Ahh, now I can’t think of it. The name didn’t ring any bells.”
I walk on behind Lou through tall Japanese honeysuckle wound with a tangle of porcelain berry, green brier and wisteria reaching out at us with curling summer whips. Lou is still fighting the mosquitos.
“We need some bug spray, Fred.”
“I’ll settle for a frost.”
“A frost in July? Not in this hemisphere.”
“We will be lucky to get any frost this Winter.”
“Don’t forget, global warming can bring big local variations in weather.”
“Yes, as circulation patterns vary with the heat.”
We have nearly cut through the vacant property, from Wickett Street down to Bails Lane. Past a big patch of Joe Pye weed with bumblebees crowding on the chalky pink composite flowers.
“It was 96 Fahrenheit when I left the house.”
“It will be over a hundred today.”
“Mind that poison ivy!”
” Looks like blackberry.”
Lou tries to kick the stem out of the way, but it bounces back in front of us.
“I think they have cross pollinated.”
“Those thorns are persuasive!”
We plod on, out of the intermittent shade of the path, across the old lawn, where Fauxmont celebrates the Fourth of July with food and fireworks. The expanse of brown grass and green weeds with bald patches is diminishing under flourishing ivy, which spreads out from the far side.
“This heat is ridiculous. We should be wearing pith helmets and bush jackets.”
“Will I have to call you “Bwana”, Fred?”
“Only if we go back about a century.”
“Who’s idea was this safari?”
“Your’s, Lou, don’t you remember?”
“No, the heat has wiped my wet drive.”
“Racoons?”
“Oh right! Diddlie is convinced that invading racoons are coming from up here somewhere.”
“You fixed her attic and eaves years ago!”
“She thinks they are frightening Mr. Liddell in the night.”
“Is he screaming or something?”
“I don’t know.”
“So, what is her story.”
“Fred, she is kind of incoherent on the subject.”
“We haven’t seen any spoor.”
“Not even a footprint in that soft ground by the dry pond.”
“I saw water in it a few years ago.”
“Yes, it was fed by a spring which stopped in the drought.”
“Like so many others around here.”
“The regional water table is dropping.”
We break through to Bails Lane, past a tall mature holly crowned with Virginia creeper.
“Fred, let’s go and cool off at the H bar.”
“Well, she said she would meet us at one o’clock.”
“Let’s be early, it is only twelve twenty-six.”
