Chapter 24: Code Word

Kathy grew impatient, waiting for the other two to finish their coffee and sweets, so she left them in the world-famous café serving the same fare since 1862—while she continued exploring the shops along the boulevard. Peter had powdered sugar all over his mouth and fingers as he smacked his lips and ate a second plate of beignets. Maggy sat across from him, smiling as she savored her chicory coffee. There was a pile of bags and sacks of gifts around them, and Kathy’s expression suggested the pile would grow.

“Damn! These things are better than frybread,” he mumbled as he licked the powdered sugar off his fingers.

“And just as bad for you, Cher. They aren’t intended as a meal.”

“I can still eat lunch,” he retorted, rinsing his mouth with coffee. “Damn, I like it here. It’s warm, too.”

“I miss it sometimes,” she replied wistfully. “But I could no longer live here. Not now.”

“Why not?” he asked, raising his cup to a passing server. “I don’t see why you have to stay in Seattle?”

“I don’t,” she replied absently, staring at her cup. “I’ll be relocating to Phoenix in a month or so. I must sell Jeremiah’s house and tie up some loose ends first.”

Peter looked at the woman intently and realized he had no idea her age. She had a youthful body and immature mannerisms. He reflected on her rocking back in her chair and twirling her hair as she read. But something about her distant gaze made her seem older. On the phone, he suspected she was in her thirties. But sitting across from the mulatto woman with chiseled Mediterranean features—she seemed barely older than himself, but he knew better than to ask. Something else bothered him, and he cleared his throat softly, causing her to look at him.

“What did he say in the other letter?”

He saw the soft lines behind her eyes tighten instantly before she glanced away.

She took a breath and started to lift her shoulders.

“Mags?”

She paused and looked back up to find his crisp blue eyes penetrating her soul.

“Remember what Geronimo said,” he stated calmly in a low voice.

She grew pale and shivered momentarily, looking younger and vulnerable. He could tell she was battling her emotions as she chewed her lip. “I ... he told me,” she whispered emotionally. Finally, she shook it off with a sigh and waited for the server to set down his coffee and leave. “It was nothing I didn’t know,” she answered. “It was just a reminder of my commitment to him.” Her voice broke, and her eyes grew moist. “And now that he’s gone...” she sniffed.

“What did he tell you?” he repeated.

She sniffed and flicked a stray lock of hair out of her face. “That I work for you now,” she replied firmly, meeting his gaze. “And that you are my sole commitment from now on.”

He wondered how devoted she was to the old man. “Why are you coming to Phoenix?” he asked, already suspecting the truth.

“To be closer to you,” she said promptly. “My job is to take care of you from now on, Cher,” she added. “You’re my only priority. I’ll forsake everything and everyone for that...” She looked away from him and back at her empty cup. “Even myself.”

Once seated aboard the Executive jet, it began taxiing. After checking their seat belts, the single attendant took their refreshment requests.

Maggy twisted her lip before eyeing the uniformed woman. “Do you still keep a bottle of absinthe aboard?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Maggy nodded and sat back.

“What is absinthe?” Peter asked.

“I thought that stuff was illegal?” Kathy added, turning to Peter to explain, “It’s a green liquor made from some shrub...”

“Artemisia absinthium,” Maggy supplied. “It’s potent and thought to have hallucinogenic properties, though I’ve never felt such,” she added. “Jeremiah said it helped him focus.”

“I’ll have one, too,” he told the attendant.

“Me three,” Kathy added eagerly.

The woman nodded and returned with a silver tray carrying three crystal glasses half full of vibrant green liquor. Maggy thanked her and held her glass up, “À la vôtre!” she called and downed it in one slug.

Peter and Kathy sniffed theirs and shrugged over the black licorice fragrance. They tapped their glasses together and copied the Creole woman’s actions.

Suddenly, neither could breathe, and their faces turned red in response to the 100-proof liquor as it clung to the esophagus and burned its way down.

Kathy lurched forward, gasping while Peter’s eyes teared up from the fire in his throat. “Oh God!” he wheezed frantically as he tried to breathe.

The skillful attendant managed to take both glasses before they dropped them and returned to her station as the pilot announced their pending take-off.

“Okay there, Cher?” Maggy smirked at the two lovers.

“No!” he gasped as he shook and twisted his body and neck. Kathy began coughing harshly beside him as tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Goddamn!” she rasped. “No wonder ... illegal!”

Ten minutes later, they were in the air, climbing to altitude for the three-and-a-half-hour flight to Phoenix. They rinsed their mouths once the initial burn wore off to clear the vile liquor taste. They felt warmth throughout their bodies.

“How can you toss that shit back?” Peter asked after wiping his eyes.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Maggy replied.

Peter brought out the thick black ledger and studied the curious characters and symbols written neatly.

“What is that?” Kathy asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” he replied. “It’s supposed to be a ledger and a detailed record of his dealings with the Canterbury Consortium. According to his letter, I’ll manage the group’s affairs once fully indoctrinated.”

“Consortium?” she repeated. “What does it do?”

He glanced at Maggy, who sat facing them, with her back to the cockpit bulkhead. She raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

“What?” Kathy asked, noticing the silent byplay. “Is this why I wasn’t allowed in the room?”

“I will not hide things from my wife,” he stated firmly.

Maggy shrugged. “I would never ask you to. But until you understand and direct it...” she shrugged, “Perhaps a Reader’s Digest version—”

He remained silent as he considered her words.

She leaned forward to unzip her calf-hugging boots and slipped them off. With a sigh, she reclined in her chair and regarded Kathy directly. “In short, the Consortium is a hyper-vigilant and secret organization that looks out for the ‘little guy,’” she tapped her temple. “Our strength is our secrecy. Your discretion is appreciated.”

“Jeremiah wrote me a detailed letter about their operations and how I should step up in his place. His influence involves building wealth through a policy called ‘The Robinhood Doctrine.’”

“Take from the rich and give to the poor?” Kathy smiled inquisitively. “Doesn’t sound bad.”

“Taking from the rich isn’t quite how he described it,” Peter replied. “Some entities are countering our desired outcomes through hostile interference. My role will be to bring this somehow,” he held up the black ledger, “Into the modern era.” He flipped through the pages, scanning for any break in the continuous flow of random characters. “I just have to figure out how to interpret it.”

“Speaking of building wealth,” Maggy interrupted. “That semiconductor giant you wanted me to watch went public on the 20th. It opened at $18, and I purchased 400,000 shares. We own ten percent of the company. With this windfall, I’ll see how much more I can get.”

Kathy stared at the cryptic characters. “He chose you?” she glanced at the darker woman across from her. “Both of you ... years ago?”

Maggy nodded, staring out the window. “He took me from an orphanage in Layfette Parish when I was 10. I stood out from the other girls because of my word and math skills,” her voice sounded quiet and drawn. “There are no records of my birth or parentage, and because I wasn’t ‘black’ enough, I was ostracized,” she smiled without humor. “Then some men came and tested me. It was a timed exercise of logic and reasoning designed to assess my ‘cognitive age.’” She gave a single laugh. “My mind was older than my body. Jeremiah appeared and spent a couple of hours a day with me. He taught me chess and Spades, and I was beating the tar out of him in a week. After nine years in that place, I was suddenly pulled out and placed with a foster family in Baton Rouge.”

“How did you end up in Seattle?” Peter asked.

“I graduated from Ole Miss at 16 with a master’s in economics and Corporate Finance, and he sent for me to intern with a hedge fund manager in Bell Town,” she replied. “I had no idea it was one of the Foundations for the Consortium.”

“You knew about the Consortium then?”

She shook her head. “He explained it in my letter. I must liquidate several funds and restructure the foundation to serve other interests.”

Kathy reclined her seat and closed her eyes. “My head hurts,” she complained.

“I could use a cup of coffee,” he agreed, rubbing his temples. “Remind me never to drink alcohol again.”

She chuckled and turned onto her side, resting her head against his arm.

Maggy pushed the Attendant button, and the uniformed woman appeared immediately. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Could you brew us some coffee?”

“Certainly,” she smiled and turned away.

Kathy hummed quietly with her eyes closed while Peter studied every page of the book, trying to find a clue or pattern to decipher it. After several minutes of grumbling and cursing, he set the book aside to take the steaming cup of fragrant coffee offered by the attendant.

“Thank you,” he said softly, moving slowly to avoid jostling the woman drifting off beside him.

“Every so often, you see a couple,” Maggy mused at her peaceful expression. “And you can tell at a glance that they complete each other.” She smiled wistfully as Kathy mumbled softly in her sleep and nestled closer to him. “They share a timeless connection. It’s deep and spiritual...” she paused to blow on her steaming cup. “The French call it, ‘je ne sais quoi’.” She met his gaze and studied his penetrating blue eyes. “You two have it.”

He smiled and turned to kiss her sleeping head, “Yes, we do.”

Maggy gazed out the window as she sipped her coffee, leaving him to scrutinize the ledger in his lap. It was maddening that he couldn’t decipher the code, no matter how hard he tried. Upside down, right to left, left to right, or vertical, the sequences remained random and nonsensical. Yet something seemed compelling and familiar. He couldn’t pinpoint it.

He wasn’t sure where to start. If I only had one clue ... He frowned as he flipped to the last entry. It looked no different than the beginning. He frowned, “Where is the beginning?”

“Sorry?” Maggy asked.

He glanced up, “I have no idea where to begin,” he replied, fanning through the pages of the ledger.

She had nothing to offer him as she stared out the window. “We existed before Genesis...” she muttered.

“Come again?” he asked.

“He said, ‘We have existed since before the Bible was written, and we may have influenced it too,’” she answered, staring into space.

“What does Genesis have to do with it?”

“It’s the first book of the Old Testament,” she mused. “The beginning.”

Genesis, he thought, the beginning.

After parting ways in Phoenix, Kathy and Peter found a terminal concierge at the executive gate. He assisted them with their luggage and transported them in an electric golf cart to the Shuttle area, where a Maserati 222 sedan was waiting. A sharply dressed rental attendant stood by with the keys as Kathy eagerly walked around it, running her fingers across the signature trident logo on the hood. After signing for it and tipping both men, Peter accepted the keys only to have them snatched out of his hand.

“Don’t mind if I do, thanks!” Kathy grinned as she climbed into the driver’s seat. He smiled and shrugged at the two men loading her bags in the trunk. Fifteen minutes later, they were speeding East on I-10 through Mesa. “I likey!” she laughed. “When do we have to return it?”