“Tell me, are we surrounded by idiots?”
“I do hope you’re not including me in that assessment, O’Meara.”
O’Meara looked at the old woman, shaking his head. These past weeks had been the first time he’d worked directly with her, as she lived in Philadelphia and he in Boston. He had heard of her before that, but the loose structure of the Sons of the Republic meant that a lot of people went their own way and only met when circumstances conspired for them to work together. Finding the Franklin Legacy was one of the main things driving him, so when the first real clues in two decades turned up in Philadelphia, they had joined forces.
“Honestly, there’s only so much we can blame on others. You and I have now contributed to two destructive incidents in the past few days.”
“Three if you count Long.”
O’Meara nodded. “Three if you count Long, although we don’t know that she revealed anything. In any case, it’s difficult to avoid concluding that you and I also bear some blame.”
The old woman regarded him, her brown eyes barely visible under the hood. She inclined her head slightly, perhaps in agreement. “Be that as it may, I assume you’d like me to keep telling you about Marshall?”
O’Meara gestured with the back of his right hand for her to continue.
“I did not ask for the surveillance video from the pawn shop. The owner didn’t seem the type to agree willingly, and I concluded it would be child’s play to steal the video that night. Which proved to be the case.”
O’Meara interrupted. “I know all that. I want to know how we managed to kill our prime lead before getting any information out of him.”
The woman continued as if she had not heard. “We easily identified the transaction with the medallion and printed the face of the man who sold it. A run against DMV photos by one of my sources confirmed him to be one Cornelius Marshall, who lives in the University area of the city. A couple of my guys went to talk to him—I did not go myself.”
“I know all that. Then they killed him.”
“They questioned him. They swore they didn’t lay a finger on him. They were a minute into talking to him after sitting down at the table and he just keeled over. No pulse, no breathing. Cornelius Marshall apparently had a weak heart.”
“And you believe them?”
“I certainly believe they didn’t do anything violent enough that it should have killed him. But this story has a happy ending.”
“Not for Mr. Marshall.”
“Which is really not our concern. We looked up his family and found a couple of things. First, he has a twin brother Octavius, who also lives in the area. But we didn’t turn up anything at his last known address, which is the same one DMV and his credit cards have. A couple of my people are still working on it.”
“The bigger thing is that back in the nineteenth century during the civil war, his family lived near Gettysburg. There are three potential properties associated with the family.”
O’Meara ran his hand over the graying stubble on his chin. “And you want us to go check them out. That’s certainly better than nothing. But what do we expect to find there?”
“We’ve been over this, O’Meara. There have always been rumors in my family, rumors about Hawthorne’s body. My great-great-grandfather went back twenty-four hours after Hawthorne was killed, and the body was gone. Someone must have taken it, probably to steal whatever they could find. Times were hard during the war. That person must have taken the medallion.”
O’Meara sighed. “You’re probably right. And I know people didn’t discard things the way they do today, so the document may still be around. It’s certainly the best lead we have. Also. . .”
“Yes?”
“I heard something about one of your guys disappearing?”
“This is true. I sent them back this morning to see if they missed anything. I got the impression they didn’t stick around long after Marshall died, so I wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything. One of them had to leave before the other and he reported that they didn’t find anything new.”
“So where is the missing guy?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps you can use your vast array of police connections to see if the police got him.”
O’Meara dug the heels of his hands into his eyes; when he removed them, the old woman still stood in front of him with an inscrutable expression. “Perhaps. This whole thing just looked a lot more promising when we had a live person to tell us how he got the medallion.”
“We may still if we can find Octavius. In the meantime, we need to go check out the Marshall connection. This is all consistent. Someone takes the body and keeps the possessions in the family for generations. Even after one generation, families get attached to things. Eventually, someone needs the money and sells something. If there are clues to be had, they will be in Gettysburg.”
O’Meara said, “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll go myself this time.”
She nodded. “I was expecting that you’d say that. I will join you.”
He regarded her for a moment, taking in the frail figure.
“Believe me, O’Meara, appearances can be deceiving.”
He decided not to say anything. After the professionals and the younger Sons had completely botched the last few tasks, he wasn’t going to suggest she would do worse. He hoped she could keep up with him if they had to move quickly, but then he considered his leg. He might just be the one who had trouble keeping up.
“Do we drive or fly?”
“Fly, of course. I have no desire to rattle around inside a car in the dead of winter for three hours. The forecast is clear for the next three days. Bring two men you can trust and meet me at the airport at six o’clock tonight. I’ve arranged for hotel rooms and two rental cars with all-wheel drive. We’ll head out at first light and split up to look at the first two properties separately. If nothing pans out, we’ll check out the third together.”
Right, thought O’Meara. What are the odds you’ll tell me if you find something?
He said, “Sounds like you’ve got the full court press on. You must really think this is it.”
She moved closer, closer than he could ever remember her getting since they first shook hands several weeks ago. He could see her face now, wrinkles everywhere. Somehow even with that and the wisp of white hair snaking out of the hood, the energy of the woman suggested she wasn’t as old as she appeared.
“O’Meara, I know this is it. I can feel it in my bones.”
He blinked from the intensity of it and tried to regain his equilibrium. “You really think the document is enough to change things?”
“You’ve been looking for it most of your adult life. What do you think?”
He shook his head. “Not by itself, no. But it will be disruptive, which will open the door for other things. People would be shocked to learn how many of the founders knew that America wasn’t simply going to cruise along with its new Constitution. Forget about the Civil War, they knew we’d have to have another revolution. If we find even half the things we’ve got leads on—”
She held up a hand.
“One thing at a time, O’Meara. We’ve got one lead to focus on now. Tomorrow’s work lies in Hamiltonban.”