April 4, 2016
Des Moines, Iowa
Ramsey parked on the capital grounds and studied the new urban architecture that seemed to float along the Des Moines River. He shook his head at the nearness of the development to the river. Heavy spring rains coupled with snowmelt had brought the river up and out of its banks. A surprising warm front had extended from the Rockies into Minnesota and was going to increase the flood danger. These buildings would be flooded unless city crews sandbagged the entire area. That was a stopgap measure at best. Next year if the city accepted his firm’s watershed recommendations for the capital, they would build retaining walls to keep back the floodwaters. But the new design would spoil views and playgrounds. It was a win/lose situation unless he could find a way to make the new area special for everyone.
Every bridge needs to be crossed in its time, he thought. He started the car and pulled into the street heading for the Grossinger Lofts. For a moment he thought about calling Grossinger and saying he couldn’t make the meeting. Ever since he decided to confront Adam’s friend, he had been indecisive about what approach to take. That indecision had led to hesitation and waiting. He looked at his watch. He was almost late. Then it came to him.
As Ramsey walked down the hall he could see that the door to Adam’s condo was slightly ajar. Carefully he pushed it open. “Hello,” he called out.
“Come in,” Grossinger said quietly.
Sitting in the large leather chair, Grossinger gestured for Ramsey to sit in the chair next to the computer table. To Ramsey, the older man seemed to have aged. His countenance was almost grandfatherly.
“What have you found out about Adam?” he asked.
Ramsey’s plan was to go right to the heart of the matter. “You lied to me last week.”
“What do you mean?” Grossinger seemed genuinely surprised.
“You knew all along Adam was alive. You and Pieter Haas cooked up this convoluted scheme to involve me in a search for his whereabouts.”
Grossinger stood up. “I don’t know any Pieter Haas. Are you crazy?” he said with a tinge of anger.
“You’re denying you’re a Gnostic?”
Grossinger turned away from Ramsey and walked over to the window. Tapping his finger on the sill, he turned abruptly back towards Ramsey. His anger had subsided “Okay, calm down and tell me what this is about.”
Taking Grossinger’s cue, Ramsey said calmly, “I was told you are a high level member of the New Gnostics, a global group of people who have been affected by the Rio Chama Shrine and Adam’s healing powers.”
“I can tell you truthfully I’m not a member of any such group.” Moving ever closer to Ramsey, he added, “What did you say about Adam’s healing power just now?”
Ramsey was confused. “Don’t you know Adam was the source of the shrine’s healing power?”
Grossinger appeared to Ramsey to be struggling with how to answer. Finally he nodded. “Adam figured it out eventually. Before I say more I need you to tell me what’s going on.”
Ramsey decided he had nothing to lose and told him about the strange sequence of events. Grossinger listened intently without asking any questions and when it was over said, “That’s quite a story. But the part about my involvement is not true. The conversation in the airport was just a coincidence. I was talking with my wife about Adam.”
As Ramsey was about to reply, Grossinger’s phone buzzed. “I need to take this,” he said, and walked into the bedroom, closing the door.
The call seemed to be taking forever. Eventually Ramsey noticed a photo album just to the right of the computer. He started thumbing through it. It was all pictures of Adam playing chess with different people. Above each opponent was a large black “W” or “L.” Halfway through the album he was stopped cold. There was a picture of himself across from Adam. Above Ramsey’s head was an “L.” Later he would recall that the album wasn’t there the last time he was in the condo and vaguely remembered during his college days playing an amateur chess competition at Des Moines’ Drake University.