Acknowledgement
It is traditional for these thanks to appear at the end of a book. In this instance I wish to acknowledge the tremendous help given to me in this novel by people who must remain nameless. They will know who they are. Members of the FBI, US Marine Corps (Rreconnaissance Company), Boston PD, Massachusetts State Police and Nantucket County Sheriff's Office.
Named individuals, who were also of great assistance on the more technical aspects contained in this novel, appear in the traditional place at the end of the book
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Chapter One
'Life is like a cup of
coffee, you choose if you want it sweet, bitter, cold or hot, alone or
accompanied'
That at least is how the saying goes and John Erskine had experienced every flavor and nuance of that definition of life, by his own account.
I first met John by appointment in the city of Portland, Maine. I didn't venture that far north usually, but his case intrigued me and so I made an exception to my rule of confining my activities to Massachusetts south to the city of New York.
My background and experience is grounded in intelligence and in the intelligence community, but having decided that life and the so called exotic places be left behind I found myself a new line of business as a licensed private investigator I had lost my wife through illness and I have no children so am a free agent -a word I wish to leave behind in my new life.
As I took I-95 north from the edge of Boston I had about an hour and a half to gather my thoughts and review what he had told me. Johnny Cash kept me company along with a boy called Sue. Seems John's daughter Mandy, only thirteen years old,had gone missing. He had reported the fact to the Portland PD and they were searching. She was last seen by a school friend on her way home ... walking. Portland isn't a big place and I guess some of the older children walk rather than get the school bus.
Whilst the fact she was missing was of the utmost concern to John, it was the fact that he felt he was being watched and maybe followed that had caused him to call on my services. I continued to mull over what he had told me as I motored north. We had agreed to meet in bar that he knew well and I knew vaguely from the occasional visit in the summer. As I turned into the street where the bar is I was confronted by a road full of blue lights.
Local cops, State Police, an ambulance and I also spotted guys wearing FBI Kevlar vests. I pulled into a parking lot and got out of my car. Heading toward what was going on and pushing forward to the front of the small crowd that had gathered, I spotted a small tent had been erected on the sidewalk outside the bar where I was to meet John Erskine, put up to preserve evidence, I guess.
"Ross, what the hell are you doing here?" I looked to my right and spotted the source of the voice. It was a guy called Mitchell. I hadn't seen him since I left the 'Company'. He started walking over toward me. "I could ask the same question", I said as he stood in front of me the other side of the police tape.
"One of ours has been killed", Mitch said. "Who?", I asked. "Jake Edwards", he replied.
Jake Edwards was the recently retired Deputy Director of the CIA. "So", Mitch said. "why are you here? Don't tell me you are sightseeing, because you are well off your neighborhood here" I told him that I had come to meet with a client, John Erskine, in the bar where I guessed a body was covered by the evidence tent.
"You had better come with me",he said, and held the police tape up to allow me through. He steered me to an anonymous Suburban. As we walked it slowly dawned on me that Jake Edwards and John Erskine were one and the same - JE and JE. I climbed into the Suburban with Mitch and that's when the 'fun' started.
