Algorithm - Book 1 - The Medallion

Chapter 9

 "Points well taken. You know, I went to Morrisonville. I visited with the librarian there, who told me the story of the Culps. Mr. Martin Culp was an entrepreneur who had ventured into a variety of agricultural businesses in other parts of Illinois before settling in town to start the Morrisonville Times in 1887. His wife, Sarah, worked at home as a seamstress. The paper was a success from the start, and the two led respected and comfortable lives. In 1891, when Sarah found the gold chain, there was no need for drumming up extra sales of the paper by splashing the story on its front pages. In fact, Sarah was a very quiet person, more interested in her needlework than town gossip. When she found that chain, notoriety was the last thing she wanted, and it was upon her insistence that the news article be kept to a very modest length and the repercussions of the find kept to an understated minimum. It turns out that a couple of years later she gave up the chain to a cousin who lived outside of town. And, as the story goes, the chain was eventually lost outright or in a fire."

Ben stopped in front of Adam, and bent over to face him squarely.

"So, is there anything about the story that bothers you, Adam?"

Taken aback, Adam paused a moment before rejoining. "It's odd that Sarah took so little interest in the chain. It's odd that she gave it away. And it's odd that it was lost."

Ben's mouth began to curl up at the corners.

During the soliloquy Adam had gone from perplexed, to amused, back to perplexed and now headed straight into down-right pissed off. "Ben, what's all this got to do with anything? So they lost the chain? So what? What about you?  I still don't understand how it is that you're alive, when I plainly saw you dead. Can you explain that?"

The smile finally erupted as Ben placed both hands on Adam's shoulders. "There's only one logical explanation. You never saw me. I wasn't there."

"Come on. I know what I saw."

After a brief moment, Ben replied, "Adam, you also claim that I disappeared."

"Uh, yes, that's right. While I was in the house, someone took your body …"

"Did anything else unusual happen?"

"There was one more thing. While I was outside ... I was outside for a few minutes. I had gone over to the garage to double check on you, that is, your body, when I discovered you, I mean the body, was gone. When I returned to your bedroom, the walls were bare. Only a few minutes had passed. It seems impossible that someone took all those clippings off the walls."

Still clenching Adam's shoulders, Ben shook his head from side to side. "I believe the clippings are still there, Adam. Nothing was moved. Nothing was taken."

Adam stared at Ben as he ran through a mental checklist of the previous day's harrowing discoveries. He was about to begin arguing that fact, when Ben stepped back and said, "Maybe there's an explanation. Recall the Mrs. Culp story. Her story was not unique. In my travels I have chased down a few other similar findings. I noticed that whenever a particularly tantalizing find came up, the object involved was often lost or destroyed. Newspaper reports generally regarded these as frauds. Many probably were. However, as I collected stories that had a certain level of believability, a pattern began to emerge. First, a perfectly respectable person with no particular reason to lie finds the object. A few people see it, and the original person either keeps it or eventually donates it to a local museum. Regardless, within a short time, it becomes unnoticed, misplaced, lost, or even destroyed in an accident. Skeptics would be quick to point out that a fraudulent find is better kept away from inquiring minds, and the mystery is even better kept when it becomes the subject of a series of misfortunes which ultimately end in its regrettable disappearance. However, a very different idea occurred to me."

Ben locked his eyes on Adam and moved closer. "Adam, would you show us your medallion?"

Adam reached between the folds of his buttoned shirt front, and suddenly began patting his chest in alarm. "It's not here."

Linda reminded him, "Adam. Don't you remember?  In the alley by the museum you put it in your pocket."

"That's right!"

He checked his pockets, and his face contorted in disbelief. "It's not here."

Linda helped him and they both went through his shirt, trousers and jacket. Nothing. No medallion.

"I can't believe this. Maybe I dropped it on the way here … outside somewhere, maybe it's just outside this door."

Adam stood up and began fumbling with the metal bar, when Ben spoke up, "Don't bother. I doubt it's here."

Adam turned his head and asked with a suspicious tone, "How can you be so sure?  Do you know where it is?"

Ben answered in a measured pitch, enunciating each word to insure its clarity. "Adam. You have hidden the medallion and only you know where it is."

The statement came across with conviction and, for a moment, Adam was speechless. His mind fought against a rising rage.

How could he know what I may have done with the medallion?   

Adam was about to respond, when Linda interrupted. "Shhhhh."

Everyone turned to see her standing by the barred door with a finger to her lips. "I think I hear something. I think they may have come back."

She pressed her head against the door.

Adam asked, "What is it?"

She closed her eyes and lifted a hand, splaying her fingers in a motion for more time. Seconds of silence felt like hours. The back of her neck glistened in the scant light. Linda pressed her ear to the door even harder. After a few more grueling moments, Hedda angled closer to Linda, and was about to speak when Linda placed her hand over Hedda's mouth.

Linda whispered, "I think someone, or something is on the other side of this door. Maybe it's listening, just like I am."

            With an abrupt tilt of her head Linda motioned the group to get out of the room. It was as if they all had been waiting for a signal and they moved as one, with Ben and Hedda leading the way. Adam held Linda's arm as they exited through the doorway into a tunnel on the far side of the room. She broke away from Adam, preferring to take up the rear of the slow motion caravan, giving the barred door one last look before joining the others. The group slowly made their way through a poorly lit winding passageway. Adam thought the faster they got out of here the better. He hadn't realized just how claustrophobic Linda was, or in fact, had become. He found himself trying to push the image of the door out of his mind, an incongruous image of a huge furry creature pressing its clawed hands against the other side of the door. The day was turning out to be a real adventure.

He looked back at Linda just as the tunnel began to get lighter up ahead. She nodded and grinned. She looked happy to be rid of the ghost they left, ghosts that were keen to avoid the light.

Ben turned to the group. "We're coming out. You can relax now."

Only moments after the group emerged from the escape tunnel, the heavy metal brace which lying across the secret door first trembled, then lifted on its own, and fell to the floor. The door gave a low pitched groan as it swung open, revealing the black maw of the room behind it and nothing else.