Cale walked into his apartment, set down his briefcase and extra folders on his dining room table, and walked straight for an empty box on the floor. After gathering up the victim’s pocket contents and putting them in a bag, he set it in the box. He folded the man’s clothes. He slipped the still-bowing belt off the back of a chair, and the phone rang. Cale walked over to the phone with the belt draped loosely over his fingers, “Hello?” He cocked the phone on his shoulder and noticed the stiffness of the belt, raising and lowering it. The belt reacted like a pair of wings.
“Detective Dixon?”
“Yes.”
“This is the airlines reservations and ticketing desk. Your flight to Driggs, Idaho, has been confirmed, and you are to be at the airport tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. Do you have a pen handy?”
“Yeah.” Cale dropped the belt on purpose. It slapped straight on the floor. He reached for a pen and leaned over a pad of paper next to the phone, “I’m ready.”
“You are on flight 892, departing San Francisco airport at
12:00 p.m. tomorrow, arriving in Seattle at 2:45 p.m. Change planes; flight 27 leaves at 3:30 p.m., so you’ll have to hustle. You arrive at 4:38 p.m. There’s no direct. It’s all on the ticket, which you will pick up at the check-in desk. Is there anything else I can help you with at this time?”
“Be there at 11:00 a.m. Flight 892 at 12:00 p.m. I change planes in Seattle. Arrive at 4:38 p.m. Got it. Thanks.”
“Have a nice flight.”
“Bye.” Cale hung up the phone and picked up the belt curiously. Grabbing the belt with two hands, Cale put his ear near the belt and twisted it. He could hear cracking and creaking in the belt. Cale moved to the dining room table and laid the belt out. The buckling device bit into the end of the leather and could easily be removed. It popped off effortlessly and fell away. Cale went to the kitchen, opened a utility drawer, and pushed the tools around until he found a pair of needle-nose pliers. He returned to the dining room table where he parted the leather, exposing the end of a slip of paper. He pulled on it with the pliers until he could pinch it between his fingertips. A foot of stiff parchment slid out of the belt. Cale unfolded the paper and saw what looked like a map in the form of a large oval. Cale remembered the layout of the museum looked similar. All the writing was foreign, predominately Asian, some Hongul, Chinese, Thai, and others he did not recognize. He got his camera and took some photos of the map. He put the camera down, sat with his elbows on the table, and studied the map, even though the writing made no sense to him.