An Unexpected Day

An Unexpected Day by Vangie Garza Neil

“Enough already!” shouted James as he walked out the door of the brownstone he and Eleanor shared for three years. It was five blocks to the subway. I need to clear my head.

The underground tunnel was empty except for handful of riders. As he walked toward his train, his foot struck something. He bent down to find a small black notebook. He flipped through the pages and found two names with telephone numbers, seven coordinates, and sections of pages torn out. Strange. As a former Navy fighter pilot, he knew coordinates. The first page revealed the name Thomas Landing, and the second page read the name John Hayes. Then there were the coordinates. Why would you write seven coordinates each one on an individual page? As the train arrived, James placed the notebook in the pocket of his jacket, walked in and sat down.

He found himself thinking about Eleanor but stopped short of calling her. The almost empty train had a passenger reading a book, one knitting a sweater, two men sat toward the front, and the man sitting in front of him was reading a newspaper. The man flipped the pages of the newspaper with the front page now in full view for James to see. The headline read, “Thousands Stolen from Women Helping Women.” I know this place. It helps women who are victims of human trafficking. He immediately thought of his mother who raised James to always treat women with respect, so the headline troubled him. James’ father was never present in his life and she provided for them both by holding down three jobs. He recalled how unfairly she was treated as a woman and as a single mother. Later, his hard work and perseverance awarded him a full scholarship to Yale, and then the Navy where he promised his mother she would never have to work again.

He sent Warren a text. They had served together in the Navy and both were now law partners at the same firm in Manhattan. It read, “Need a place to stay. Any room?”

Warren responded, “Anytime. Come on over.” Warren knew of their difficulties. When James arrived, Warren greeted him with a beer.

“Thanks bud. You saved me again.” As he removed his jacket, the notebook fell to the floor. He bent down to pick it up. “Hey, listen to this. It’s the strangest thing. I was walking to my train and found this notebook in the tunnel. But it’s what’s inside that’s odd. There are two names and seven coordinates each on a different page.

“Let me see that,” said Warren. After his review, Warren looked up with excitement. James knew that look.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked James seeking a little excitement.

“I don’t have anything to do and you’re staying here for a while, so let’s do it,” chuckled Warren. They went to his library to map out the coordinates.

“Before we go, let’s call these two.” said James. “The notebook might belong to one of them.

“You’re probably right,” responded Warren.

James called the first number. “Landing residence, may I help you?”

“Yes, this James Oliver and I would like to speak to Mr. Landing please.”

“I am Mr. Landing’s assistant, Martha Jansen. I am sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Landing was killed in an auto accident two days ago. His attorney is Roger Swanson. Can I give you his number?”

“I am sorry to hear this. No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you.” James shared what he learned with Warren.

“Poor fellow. Should we try the other name?” questioned Warren.

James dialed the number and a husky voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hello, my name is James Oliver. Is this Mr. Hayes?”

Suddenly the phone went dead. James looked at Warren.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The phone went dead just as I asked for Mr. Hayes. I’ll try again. The same voice answered. “This is James Oliver. I’m looking for John Hayes.” The phone went dead again. “Surely this isn’t a fluke. I’ll call once more. “This is James Oliver. Do you know Thomas Landing?” This time the voice on the other line went silent.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I found a small black notebook and wanted to return it.” The voice was silent again. “Hello? Are you still there?”

“Where did you find it?” he asked.

“Is this John Hayes?”

“It is,” he answered.

“I called Mr. Landing, but they told me he was killed in an auto accident. Your name was in the notebook along with his name and I’m trying to find its owner.”

This time, both Warren and James heard the phone slam.

“Something isn’t right. Grab your jacket,” shouted Warren. Their plans were to travel to each coordinate, return to Warren’s home, and assess the situation. They hopped into Warren’s jeep for their first jaunt. The first coordinate showed latitude 82.3270462 and longitude 34.8588411 which led them to Battery Park. The second page had latitude 40.712742 and longitude 74.013382. It led them to the World Trade Center. James flipped the page to the next one of latitude 73.985428 and longitude 40.7488. This one was the Empire State Building. The fourth was latitude 40.75686 and longitude 73.99047 to the Port Authority Bus Terminal.

“Nothing is making sense other than we’re headed back into town,” shared Warren. Latitude 40.75894 and longitude 73.979195° was Rockefeller Center, and latitude 40.764324 and longitude 73.97175 took them to Central Park. “What clue do we look for in 843 acres of land and trees?” Lastly, latitude 40.7794 and longitude 73.96328 took them to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

They pulled up to the museum. “Here we are and still nothing,” declared Warren.

“Wait,” said James pulling out his phone. “Hello, this James Oliver again.”

“Yes sir, I remember. What can I do for you,” asked Martha?

“Mr. Landing’s accident, where did it happen?”

“I am sorry Mr. Oliver, but I have to ask, did you know Mr. Landing?” inquired Martha.

“I did not Martha, but I found a small black notebook earlier today. Did it belong to him?”

“Yes, it did, thank you for finding it. The accident was in the newspaper. He was crossing the street to pick up a box at the Metropolitan Museum of Art,” stated Martha.

“Martha, was the museum the only place he traveled to?”

“We would always go to the museum but lately we would go to a few other places. I believe there was a total of seven spots, but we would always end our travels at the museum. He would sit on the bench, pull out the notebook, make notes, open the box, and drop it back in. That notebook went everywhere with him. Funny you should ask, Mr. Swanson approached me about the notebook the day of his accident. He appeared to be anxious to find it.”

“Martha, you have been a great help. Do you have Mr. Swanson’s telephone number? I’d like to return the notebook?” asked James and the conversation ended.

“You’re returning it?” asked Warren.

“No, but I believe the notebook and the black box may have ended Landing's life. She said she drove him to a total of seven locations and I would bet my life these are the coordinates for these spots. The notebook, box, and these places are all tied together.”

With a worried gaze, Warren asked, “What size is the box?”

“I believe it’s big enough to hold this notebook. Let’s go in.”

“Are you crazy? Security guards will be watching our every move.” Words fell on deaf ears as James was already entering the museum. Warren finally caught up to him. They approached each art object with special attention but with so many visitors they decided to sit and wait until they all left. James sat on the bench facing the north wall and Warren faced the south wall admiring the art.

Adolfo Salvatore Cavallo’s “The Hunt of the Unicorn” tapestry caught James’ eye. The room held famous works of art that included Klimt, Pollock, Picasso, Rembrandt, and others, but the tapestry of the Hunt was his favorite. He sat taking in the beauty of the woven art design when something caught his eye. The tapestry did not hang flat. A square outline revealed itself around the bush in the garden scene below the unicorn on the tapestry.

The last visitor left. “Warren” whispered James, “cover me. I see something and I need to get closer.”

“You’re going to get us arrested,” responded Warren. James approached the tapestry. The guard was walking over to James when Warren distracted him.

Whew! Thanks Warren. He leaned back to look at the wall where it hung. Oh man, there it is. A black box was taped to the wall, but it meant going underneath the tapestry and stanchions. He looked back at the guard, but Warren had everything under control. James snuck underneath, pulled the box off the wall held by duct tape, and placed his jacket over the box. He glanced out Warren’s way. Good, he’s still talking to the guard. James went back under the tapestry and sat down. A voice from the speaker announced the museum’s closing. James picked up the box hidden by his jacket and walked out. Warren left seconds later. They both jumped in the Jeep and drove off. Words were not spoken as they knew this excursion had now evolved to a find and a mystery.

They walked into Warren’s home. Warren disappeared only to return with two cold beers, handing one to James followed by, “What an adventure,” as bottles clinked in celebration.

The box was on the table in the library. As James opened the box, it revealed cash, notebooks, and receipts with the name Women Helping Women. It was no longer fun. Warren immediately called Sean, a college friend of theirs with the FBI and asked him to come over. His sense of urgency moved him to arrive without delay.

“What’s going on? asked Sean. They sat down and James began his story.

Sean walked to the table, pulled out a pair of gloves from his pocket, and reached into the box bringing out stacks of cash and three notebooks that caught his attention. James also handed Sean the small black notebook he had found in the tunnel.

“There was a robbery up the street two days ago and by the looks of it, you may have cracked a case for us,” suggested Sean. The people in these notebooks have been under surveillance for a while and there’s about a $100,000 here as well as journals, contracts, and more. Landing has been on our radar for a while. You mentioned the accident in front of the museum. He was probably going to retrieve the proof, but someone had other plans for him. I also saw the name Swanson in the journal. Didn’t you say Swanson was Landing’s attorney?” asked Sean.

“Yes. His assistant Martha gave me his name and number,” said James.

“Could be Swanson or Hayes ran him down looking for your notebook. I’ve got to get back to my office to authorize warrants and make a few arrests.” Glad you two are okay. These are dangerous people. He gathered the evidence and said, “You should know, there is twenty-thousand-dollar reward for information, and based on this evidence, it looks like it’s coming your way. Congratulations!” Sean left.

They looked at each other.

“Twenty thousand? I know a nonprofit who could really use it,” said James.

“I agree,” said Warren.

“Say, how about a steak and a few cold beers? My treat,” said James.

“Absolutely,” replied Warren.

“Well, since I’m going to be staying with you for a while, maybe we should do this more often?

Warren smiled at James and replied, “I think I’ve had enough excitement for a lifetime. Mind if I pass?”

James responded, “Not at all!”