Chapter 5

Monday – Later in the Afternoon

Lee checked his watch every five minutes. He paced across the exhibition room, tapping his fingers against his leg and not really paying attention as Francine stood there and commented on the lack of security in the National Gallery.

She broke through to his consciousness as she cleared her throat and remarked, “Well! Since you’re obviously not listening to a word I say anyway, why don’t you go ahead and make your phone call?”

“What? Oh. . .yeah, I’ll just. . .” he paused, pointing back over his shoulder, “go check in with Billy. I’ll be back in a minute.” As he turned to go and find the phone, he could see Francine shaking her head at his distracted behavior. He couldn’t blame her, really, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had about his partner and her German detective.

The section chief picked up on the first ring. “Melrose here.”

“Billy, it’s Scarecrow. Francine and I. . .” Lee started to report.

Billy cut in, “Never mind the report, Lee. I have some news, and none of it’s good.”

“What is it, Billy? What’s happened?”

“Well, for starters, Amanda and Dieter Volkenauer found another note from the terrorists,” Billy explained. “They found it in her car. It said that in two days our ‘temple’, whatever they mean by that, would come crashing down.”

Lee’s eyes widened as he thought about the effect of the shortened timetable. “Two days? And we still don’t know what their target is? Did you talk with Amanda? What did she have to say?”

Billy swallowed and steeled himself to take the brunt of Scarecrow’s wrath as he confessed, “I’m sorry, Lee. That’s the rest of the bad news. I talked to Amanda just a few minutes ago, and she told me about the note, and that Dieter had managed to get some pictures of two of the Lightning Flash people, Gunther Heller and one of his accomplices. She started to tell me that she and Dieter were almost certain that the ‘temple’ might be the ‘link’, and then we were cut off.”

“Oh my God. . .Amanda! So you’re telling me we don’t know if she’s hurt, or. . .or even where she is?” His eyes took on a hollow look, briefly revealing the fear that gripped his heart. But fear wouldn’t help Amanda, he told himself, as a surge of anger welled up within him. He slammed his hand against the back wall of the phone booth. "Damn it, Billy! I had a bad feeling about her working with that guy, and this just proves I was right. Heller must’ve followed them from the hotel! How else would he have known to put the note in her car?” He paused, slowly circling his finger in the air as he tried to remember. What was it Amanda had said? “Wait. . .she told me this morning. . .she and Volkenauer were supposed to hit the Washington Monument and the Lincoln. . ." He paused again, then slapped the phone book with his hand as he went on, "That’s it! That’s gotta be where she is--the Lincoln Memorial.” Utter desperation sounded in his voice as he shouted, “We have to find her, Billy!”

“I know, Scarecrow, I know. Look. . .I’ll send someone else for Francine. Go find your partner,” Billy ordered. “As if I could stop you,” he finished, after Lee had severed the connection.

*****

Dieter had spent the last twenty minutes surveying several locations within the Lincoln Memorial for possible places where the terrorists might plant explosives, but he hadn’t seen any areas that seemed especially vulnerable. He walked out through the front entrance, then stopped to check his watch. Amanda should have been back by now, shouldn’t she? He paced across the width of the Memorial, peering around each of the columns, but he didn’t find her anywhere. Where could she be? He looked out to either side of the Reflecting Pool, when he caught a flash of something that looked like the sweater Amanda had been wearing, white, with large gray and pink geometric shapes. He strained his eyes, trying to get a better look, when he thought of the camera. He pulled it out of the bag and selected the telephoto setting, then zoomed in on the sweater. The wearer had shaggy, dark hair, and she wore tight-fitting black leather pants. He noticed that this woman appeared to be helping someone onto a tourist trolley. He watched as the second person’s head lolled to the side. Catching sight of her face, delicately framed by soft, dark chestnut curls, he cried out, “Amanda!” as he stashed the camera in the bag and started running down the steps.

The ‘Memorials and Monuments’ tour-mobile had just pulled away as Lee Stetson pulled the ‘Vette to a screeching stop at the curb in front of the Memorial. He stood there on the sidewalk for a few seconds, examining the area with a searching gaze, but saw no sign of Amanda. His fists clenched at his sides involuntarily as he spotted Dieter Volkenauer coming down the steps. He ran up to meet him, asking, “Well? Where is she? Did you find her yet?”

Dieter cast a quick glance in Lee’s direction, then returned his gaze to the departing trolley and its passengers. “Mr. Stetson! No, not yet, I am sorry to say.”

Lee’s hands shot up angrily, and he yelled, “How’d you do it, Volkenauer?!? How’d you manage to lose her?”

“I am sorry. Amanda went to find--” Dieter began, then cut off his own explanation. He did his best to ignore Lee’s pointed stare as he continued to charge down the steps. “I assure you, Mr. Stetson, there will be time enough for recriminations later.” He extended his arm, pointing off to the right. “At the moment, we have to follow that tourist trolley!”

Lee followed him down to the car and they rushed off after the trolley. The warm fall day had brought out a horde of tourists and DC area residents alike, and traffic was anything but cooperative as the two agents tried to catch up with their quarry.

Scarecrow pounded the steering wheel in frustration. His anger had settled down to a slow boil, but he still seethed as he gritted out, “Seriously, Volkenauer, what happened? Where’d she go? And why didn’t you go with her?”

“As I said before, Mr. Stetson, I am very sorry. In retrospect, you are quite right. I most definitely should have gone with her,” he admitted with a rueful look. “However, at the time. . .” he paused, turning and spreading his hands as he went on to explain, “You see, the shopkeeper in the bookstore told us that the nearest public telephone was across the street, in the snack bar on the corner, next to the tourist trolley stop. Amanda went in search of the telephone there, and she urged me to stay at the Memorial and continue to observe the place. She told me she would be back in a few minutes, so I did as she asked. But now, I am so sorry,” he finished, turning his gaze back to the traffic in front of them.

Lee’s voice boomed in the small space. “Sorry!?! Sorry doesn’t cut it, man! Not if she’s been hurt!”

“Do you honestly believe I wanted this to happen?” Dieter countered, his expression showing a mixture of guilt and defiance.

“No,” Lee allowed, grudgingly. He spared Dieter a pained glance as he said, “No, I’m sure you didn’t. But look, Dieter. . .you had to know you were being followed today. Billy told me about the note you found in her car. Didn’t that tell you anything?”

“Ja, ja, ja, it should have, yes,” he admitted with a grim nod. He looked out the side window as he continued, “There are probably many things I should have noticed today. I admit, I was quite distracted.” A trace of a smile flickered across his face as he confessed, “Frau King seems to have that effect on me.”

As small as it was, the smile wasn't lost on Lee, but somehow, he managed to hold down the bitter jealousy he felt at Dieter’s revelation. He cleared his throat, but didn't bother to reply in words. Instead, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and tried to peer around the five or six vehicles between them and the tourist trolley. He let out a slow sigh of relief when he saw the trolley coming to a stop about a block ahead of them, along the side of the Jefferson Memorial.

*****

The group of twenty or so tourists disembarked and started up toward the Memorial. They’d nearly reached the top by the time Lee and Dieter came to the base of the stairs.

“Mr. Stetson! There they are!” Dieter called out, pointing toward the left side of the entrance. The two men dashed up the steps after Amanda and her captor, just in time to see them disappear into the elevator.

“Let’s take the stairs!” Lee called back to Dieter, pulling open the metal door and scurrying down to the basement. Slowly, carefully, he opened the door to the lower level. Off to the right, he saw the entrance to the museum and gift shop, with several tourists milling around. He leaned forward slightly to chance a look to the left, and noticed the door to the ladies’ room swinging shut. He stepped out into the hallway, pointing to the left and nodding for Dieter to follow him.

Lee and Dieter stood on either side of the door, and Lee tapped on it twice. There was no reply, and Lee reached for his gun and held it up as he swung around and kicked the door in. Both men were shocked and saddened to find. . .nothing. Nothing, that is, except Amanda’s sweater, hanging on the coat hook in the last stall. Lee grabbed the sweater and showed it to Dieter as he stormed out of the ladies’ room and they found their way to the lower level exit.

As soon as they came outside, Dieter spotted Gunther Heller and Giesele Hofmeier speeding away on a motorcycle. He pointed the two suspects out to Lee, and the realization hit both of them at the same time. They looked at each other and shouted, “Amanda!”

Lee started back into the Jefferson Memorial and commented as they walked, “Yeah. . .it stands to reason, since Giesele doesn’t have her, she must still be here someplace, right?”

“Right,” Dieter acknowledged. “Where should we start?”

“We could look in the museum, but I thought I remembered seeing a utility closet or something, down there close to the restrooms. Let’s try that first,” Lee suggested.

While Dieter stood guard, Lee worked on the lock. As he felt the last tumbler click into position, he heard a soft moan. His heartbeat quickened as he yanked the door open and saw Amanda’s frightened face. He released her from the twine that bound her hands and loosened the scarf that covered her mouth, before taking her in his arms and whispering into her hair, “Amanda.”

“Lee! I’m so glad you found me,” she whispered in reply, as she reached her arms around him and pulled him closer.

Lee pulled back and held her at arm’s length, taking a visual inventory as he asked, “Now. . .are you all right?”

Amanda backed away and touched a hand to her forehead as she answered, “Yeah, outside of this headache. And I’m a little woozy from whatever that stuff was she held over my mouth, but. . .” she interrupted herself, finally realizing they had company. “Oh, hello, Dieter!”

She turned to her temporary partner, then looked back to Lee and pointed between the two men as she asked, her eyebrows raised in confusion, “But when. . .how did you two--?”

With a soft chuckle, Lee replied, "Well. . .I checked in with Billy. . .and he told me your phone conversation was cut off, and you'd tried to tell him about a "link" something." He pressed his lips together and tipped his head to the side as he went on, "And then I remembered you'd told me this morning that you were supposed to go to the Lincoln Memorial sometime today, so. . ."

"So you went on over there," Amanda inserted with a quick nod and a warm smile.

With a dimpled grin, Lee picked up the string, saying, "Yeah, as fast as I could, and. . ."

"Ah, and that's when you two. . ." she cut in again, crossing her hands one over the other as she pointed to Lee and Dieter.

"Yes, yes, yes," Dieter interrupted, pointedly ignoring Lee's presence. "And you see, already I had started looking for you when Mr. Stetson came, and we saw you and Giesele boarding the trolley. . ."

Lee broke in after darting a less-than-friendly glance at Dieter. "And we followed you here." He stroked the outside of her arm and admitted, "You nearly scared me to death, you know that? When all we found was your sweater. . ." he trailed off, looking away for a moment. He circled his arm around her back and supported her as he began to lead her to the exit. "All right, shall we?" he offered.

As they walked, Amanda cast her eyes to the floor and said, “I’m sorry, Lee. I guess I really screwed things up this time, didn’t I?”

At that, Lee tipped her chin up with his free hand and looked deeply into her eyes, assuring her, “No, Amanda, you did no such thing. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all. It could’ve happened to anyone, really.”

She accepted his assurance with a quiet nod and a small smile as they headed back to his car, with a nearly forgotten Dieter trailing after them.

*****

After the three of them had managed to arrange themselves in the low slung Corvette, Lee dialed the number for the Agency on his car phone. He waited on hold for thirty seconds, impatiently tattooing the mouthpiece of the receiver with his fingertips.

“Scarecrow?” Billy Melrose presumed.

“Billy?” Lee replied, stilling his fingers. “We have good news, and not so good news. The good news is, we’ve found Amanda,” he said, a smile reflected in his hazel eyes as he stole a brief glance at her across the front seat. “She’s okay, but I think we’d better bring her in for Doc Kelford to check her out, just in case.”

Smiling in relief, Billy acknowledged, “Good idea. You be sure and tell her I’m glad she’s all right. Now. . .what’s the bad news?”

“We saw Heller and Giesele Hofmeier getting away on his motorcycle, and we don’t know where they were headed.”

“Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk, Scarecrow,” Billy stated sensibly. “Just get yourself back in here. Several of the other teams are checking in, too, so hopefully we can put the pieces together and figure something out.”

“Okay, Billy,” Lee answered. “We’ll be right in.” He placed the phone back in its cradle and fired up the ‘Vette.

They made a brief stop at the snack bar by the Lincoln Memorial to inquire about Amanda’s purse. Luckily, another patron had found the purse lying on the floor in the small hallway, and had brought it to the proprietor.

After they went back to the car, Amanda riffled through the purse’s contents. “Oh, good!” she exclaimed. “My wallet and credit cards are still here, and my driver’s license and car keys, too.” She twisted in her seat to look back at Dieter. “The film! That must’ve been what she was looking for! Only, I didn’t have it. I gave the camera. . .”

“To me, yes,” Dieter put in. “It’s right here, Amanda.”

Lee caught Dieter’s eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded, saying, “Good. We’ll get it down to the lab as soon as we get back to the Agency.”

In short order, they arrived in front of the Georgetown façade of IFF. Half an hour later, they sat around the conference room table, listening to Francine’s summary of the field agent reports they’d received so far. “Duffy and Jenkins reported several sightings of two of the Lightning Flash members, shopping at various drugstores and convenience stores. Frank told me the kind of things they were buying included bicarbonate of soda, distilled water, glycerine, and. . .ice, bags and bags of ice,” she said, rolling her eyes slightly, obviously not quite sure what to make of the odd combination of items. She consulted her notes and started in again, “Fielder and Margolis tracked two of the. . .”

Billy held up a hand and interjected, “Wait. Beaman!” he said, addressing the lanky agent. “Let’s put those ingredients into the computer and see if that combination sends up any red flags. . .and run ‘em by the bomb squad, too. They might catch something we’d miss.”

“Yes sir, I’m on it, “ Effram answered, hurrying out to the bullpen and picking up the first available phone.

“All right, Francine, what else do we have?” Billy asked, motioning with his hand to indicate the small stack of remaining reports.

“Fred Fielder and Sandy Margolis tracked two more suspected terrorists to the Econo-Dollar Motel near Alexandria. We’re setting up a stakeout, keeping it as low key as possible.”

“Mr. Volkenauer, you have the second note, I believe, correct?” Billy prompted.

“Ja, ja, here it is, Mr. Melrose,” Dieter replied, taking the plastic bag out of his jacket pocket and laying it out on the table.

“And Amanda, you and Mr. Volkenauer believe that this ‘temple’ they refer to could be the Lincoln Memorial?”

“That’s right, sir,” she answered with a quick nod. She counted off the reasons one by one. “First of all, there’s an inscription up over the statue of Abraham Lincoln that starts with ‘In this temple. . .’, and then there’s the fact that the Memorial was modeled after the Parthenon in Athens, and then, we should remember the first note, too.”

With a questioning look, Lee asked, “Excuse me? How does the first note tie in to all this?”

Amanda spread her hands in front of her and explained, “Lee! That’s really simple. . .don’t you remember? The note said we should look in the mirror. It’s not that much of a stretch to figure it out. The mirror is the Reflecting Pool. And what do you see when you look into the Reflecting Pool? One of two things, right?”

A smile spread across Lee’s face as he caught up to her logic. “Right. . .” He pointed right, then left as he went on, “Either the Washington Monument. . .or the Lincoln Memorial. And only one of those would qualify as a temple, wouldn’t it?”

Just then, they heard a soft knock on the conference room door, and Billy shouted, “Enter!”

Agent James Robinson brought in a large brown envelope and handed it to Francine, saying, “These are the photos from Mrs. King’s camera.”

“Thanks,” Francine replied, as she took the photographs out and spread them across the table.

Dieter started to identify the suspects, pointing to each of their faces as he spoke. “The young man here is Gunther Heller, and this is Giesele Hofmeier. Ah. . .Amanda! I didn’t even notice this one. Do you see this bespectacled, nervous looking young fellow sitting on the next park bench over from where Giesele is standing?” At her nod, Dieter looked from Amanda to Lee and went on to tell them, “That one is Erich Bauer. Until just last year, he was a chemistry major at university in . . .”

“Wait a minute,” Amanda interrupted, lifting her index finger as she tried to place the name. “Bauer. . .the bookstore, Dieter, the bookstore at the Lincoln Memorial! Remember, I asked him where I could find a phone? Well he was wearing a name tag that said ‘Bauer’.“

Lee looked across the table at Amanda and gave her an indulgent smile before saying, “That’s all well and good, Amanda, but there are plenty of German immigrants in this country with the name ‘Bauer’. I hate to stifle your enthusiasm here, but it’s really a very common name.”

Billy caught the slight tension between the two partners and took the first opportunity to break it, looking from one to the other of them as he said, “Nevertheless. . .we should probably see what we can find out about this Bauer person. . .see if there’s any connection to Erich or anyone else in the Lightning Flash group.” He turned his attention to Francine then, wrapping up the meeting with some last minute orders. “Okay, Francine, let’s pull everybody off of the rest of the sites and concentrate on the Lincoln Memorial. Check with the National Park Service on any permits for either celebrations or demonstrations. Make sure we get feedback from Fielder’s folks out at the motel at least every two hours. And let’s see what Beaman’s found out about those odd ingredients from the drugstore.”

Right on cue, Effram Beaman turned the doorknob and entered. “That’s an easy answer, sir, but you’re not gonna like it. Those ingredients, along with small amounts of highly concentrated nitric and sulfuric acids, can be whipped up into a generous batch of nitroglycerine.”

Lee’s eyes locked with Amanda’s as they both realized the frightening possibilities. His voice husky with emotion, he said, “Well. . .I guess we really have our work cut out for us now.”

“Right,” Amanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She swallowed and looked to Mr. Melrose. “Sir! We can’t let them put that recipe together.”

“No, we can’t,” Billy agreed sadly. Heaving a weary sigh, he adjourned the meeting. “All right, people, let’s call it a night. We’ll meet again at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow.”

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