Who+is+she+really?

 “Hunny, do we need milk? I feel like we do need milk,” said my wife from across the house, her bare feet squeaking on the newly cleaned floor. “ I don’t know, look in the fridge,” I said a little bit annoyed, because time and time again I had ask my wife to not interrupt me when I am with a client. “You see I am a historian and kind of a private detective. People send me jobs that are…. interesting. Yeah that’s what I would call them and through my research I put together a story to answer their questions. Two year ago I was researching how and where two family members met. Well I found that one out very quickly. Now, you must be wondering how I come about finding information. This is the hard part of my job, I have to use newspapers, and family speculation to pin point witnesses, and then talk to these witnesses, and in the end put together a story.” I said to the gentlemen in a pin striped suit sitting in front of me. I still didn’t know his name, or why he had come to me. He looked to be in his 50’s and the hair by his temple was starting to turn slightly gray, giving him a wise look. “Well Hun,” my wife came barging into my work-study, forgetting that I had a client. I can’t blame her though it was early for me, it was 10 in the morning, and normally I don’t take clients until 11 or 12. “I am off to work; maybe the tourists will be a little more attentive today.” My wife was in a stunning blue dress that fit her beautiful body perfectly, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. The grumbling of my client snapped me back to attention; I could feel the blood rushing into my cheeks as I blushed. “Okay, have a great day, make those tourist a bit more historically knowledgeable.” I smiled, this was an inside joke between her and I. My wife you see works as a tour-guide for the city of Boston, while it doesn’t pay well she does love it, so I have nothing to complain about. “So Mister,” I paused hoping that the man sitting across the desk from me would tell me his name. “Oh sorry, where are my manners, my name is John Messenger. He said right away, he had an all around wise look about him, like he had seen a lot. His rough piercing blue eyes made me slightly uncomfortable. “Ah, okay Mr. Messenger, how can I help you today?” “Well, I was wondering if y.y.ou,” He stuttered, he seemed nervous, for reasons I could not think of. “If you could tell me how my family came to own a dog,” he said this very quickly, and when he said this his eyes moved to the left, and up. My old detective training kicked in; when this happened he was lying. I could also tell he had something on his mind; he kept shifting in his chair. I went along with it though, “Hmm, okay, do you have any pictures of said dog and any information about him.” “Yeah, I do.” He handed me a manila folder full of papers and a piece of paper with his number on it he was very prepared. For most clients I have to ask for everything, and they have to go home and collect papers. I put my glasses on, open the folder and said, “Okay thanks Mr. Messenger, I will call you when I find out more about this dog of yours.” He got up nervously and slowly walked towards the door, as I started working. I started working, and after five minutes I noticed that Mr. Messenger hadn’t left yet. He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “There seems to be something else on your mind sir,” I said in a soft voice. “Yes, there is. I am not sure how to ask this, well I don’t want to get you angry or make you bring back… bad memories.” I became nervous at this; I had never met this guy before in my life, so how does he know something about me? “What is it you want to know?” “I am, really not sure, so many people I have talked to about this said that it was a touchy subject for you. That just thinking about it would aggravate you,” he said hesitantly I don’t know who his sources are, but I have no temper, its nearly impossible to aggravate me, unless you are a useless newspaper, or an incompetent man. And this man, who I thought was wise when he first entered my office, no longer seems so wise. “Sir, you can ask me anything, I make my money by answering questions, even if they hit close to home.” I responded, I noticed a hint of apprehension in my voice. “I really don’t think I should, maybe when I come back,” “Mr. Messenger, even if it does annoy me, or upset me you will not know it.” “Please, call me John, no need for such formality,” He said trying to change the subject. “Just ask me what you want to know!!” Only after noticing the surprised look on my companions face did I notice that I had yelled that. “I apologize for yelling, I just don’t enjoy the feeling I get when someone withholds information or a comment from me, and I promise you whatever you ask me will not anger me.” I said in a quiet apologetic voice. “Uhh, okay,” he said in a very hesitant voice “Do you remember every case you have ever done research for?” “Yes, I remember most of them, when you put so much work into them it is quite hard to forget. Why do you ask?” “You mean to tell me that you remember every case on those bookshelves?” He said while pointing at the 3 bookshelves made out of light Maplewood, and brushing my question a side. “Yes sir, that is what I am telling you,” What is taking this guy so long to ask his question, I don’t think I come across as the angry kind of person. “Okay, well if this is the case, do you remember the case of the time traveling tour guide?” He said timidly. “Ah, yes that one sticks in my mind most prominently, for reasons that I am required to keep hidden. What do you want to know about it?” “Everything, I've only heard rumors about it, and I want to get the story straight,” he said excitedly, his nervousness forgotten. “Are you a reporter, you must be a reporter, that’s a question a reporter would ask,” I said nervously. “Oh god no,” he said jauntily, a smile braking across his face “I am just a curious man, who is looking for a good story to tell.” “Ah, well then where to begin? Where to begin?” I said, while getting up to grab the case file. “What are you doing?” asked Mr. Messenger. “I am going to start telling you the story, it will take quite a while, this was one of the most intricate stories I have ever done, it took a better half of a year to finish this. If we want to finish before tomorrow we need to start now, with the ph…..” “Well that brings me to my next question,” he interrupted, “I was wondering if for an hour each Monday, like today I could come in and you could tell me it in sections like the stories in the Chicago Tribune, where a chapter is printed every week.” He said like an excited little boy. This put me back a few, the Chicago Tribune hadn’t posted something like that in years, and since the 40’s or 50’s I would say. Then I noticed something very odd, the area that was grey near his temples had expanded moving towards the side of his head. I must be imagining things, I haven’t had coffee yet, and I must be tired. “Okay, sure we can do that, every Monday at 10am, until 11am.” I said, not wanting to point out this mans mistake, all though it did strike me as weird. Now that I think about it, the way the man was dressed was all together...odd I would even say old fashioned. His suit is a 3 piece with a vest over the button down shirt. That still hasn’t been around since. Well the 50's. “Well, good sir, I must go. Many things to do before the sun goes down.” He said, as I walked him to the door. “Have good day Mr. Messenger, I am looking forward to our meeting next Monday.” As I opened the door to let him out the warm July air flowed in. It was a wonderful day in Boston, birds were chirping and all the bike riders were out and about. The man left, and I went to my computer to see if I had any new job offers, there were none. It had been that way for weeks; none wanted to have random things investigated during a recession. So, I decided to go for a walk and catch up with my friends. I thought //who should I call, most of the people who I normally hangout with are on vacation?// I should call Mark Teltion. He was a friend of mine in college and we reconnect when I moved to Boston from Chicago. He works as a police informant; he had helped me on many cases when I was a private detective, when I switched to investigating families and backgrounds from murders and cheating girlfriends who end up missing we lost connection. I picked up the phone, hoping he still had the same number and dialed his number, 617-432-5555. After 2 rings someone picked up, “Hello, detective Tolsen, how may I help you,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “Uhh Hi, yeah I am looking for a Mr. Mark Mitnek. Is this where I call to reach him?” “I would hope this is the number to call him, seeing how Mark Mitnek is me… your voice seems very familiar, do I know you?” Remembering his sense of humor I said, “I will give you 3 guesses, with 2 hints, do you want the first hint now, or do you want to guess first? I will tell you, that you do know me.” “Sir, do I have to remind you that I am a detective, if this is a joke I will trace this call and have you arrested.” This put me back a few, it seems that my dear friend had lost his sense of humor, the one that all of his friends had cherished. I responded “No sir, this isn’t a joke, just an old friend who is trying to regain contact. Your first hint is we went to college together; we were in the frat house DFW. Does this help” “It narrows it down a few, but your voice isn’t entirely familiar.” His voice was now calmer, back to the tone I had remembered from so long ago. “In a flat tone I responded, well the fat dog must roll,” this was an old inside joke of ours hopefully he remembers it. “MIKE RELINGTON!!” my friend yelled into the phone, leaving me with a dull ringing in my right ear. “How have you been Mike? It’s been long… too long.” “I know, it has been to long, and its been good, other than a lack of cases. How have you been my good friend?” “Well, I' m still breathing, I have a job and house, what more can I ask for? “Another beer?” Another one of our many inside jokes, we had so many, if only I could remember them. “Ha-ha, yeah, other than I have cut off drinking, my position here at the police station means I am on duty 24/7 even when I am at home. I can always be called and asked to come in. Its rather annoying actually.” “Well I am very sorry to hear that, I wish I could say the same though, but no one wants small things researched anymore, I haven’t had a case in 5 months.” “That’s rather unfortunate as well. I don’t want to seem like I am rushing off the phone, don’t get me wrong its great hearing from you, but how can I be of service to you.” He asked, with a sound of anxiousness, like his boss was walking down the hall. “Right, sorry, I had meant to make this quick. I was wondering if you wanted to get together at some point in the near future and catch-up. Maybe grab lunch or something like that?” “Sure, I am free tomorrow at 11:30 for lunch, want to eat at the Corner side Clubhouse?” “That would be great, that gives me time to do chores and such before hand.” “Well, I will see you then good sir, Chao,” and with a click the other end of the line went dead. I added the lunch meeting into my black bound calendar. I sat down at my desk and started thinking about what to do for the rest of the day, my mind eventually tailed off to about the odd gentleman who had come to me earlier, he seemed to have been taken out of a picture from the 1950’s, even down to the Panerai Marinia Militare Rolex watch on his wrist, I noticed it while he was nervously fiddling with it. I have the same type of watch; only it was made in 2008. And, what was up with his hair, I am pretty sure I wasn’t seeing things, nor was I exaggerating what I saw, because I think he is odd. He definitely had more white hair near his temple when he left. “Hun, its called caller ID, just check it when you pick up your phone, so you can answer my call with ‘Hi the most awsomest person who I love with all my life, how are you?’ instead of your work answer,” my wife said jokingly on the other side of the line. “Well, why don’t you call back, and let me try again.” //Click//. Wow, did she really take me seriously? I hope she is joking. // Buzzz.Buzzzz. // “Hi the most awesomeist person who I love with all my life, how are you?” “I am a good thanks, how about you Love?” “I am a little weirded out, but other than that good, did u really believe me when I said let me try again?” “Ha-ha no, I just wanted to hear you say it. Is that really what weirded you out?” she said chuckling. “Of course” I said sarcastically, “and no, no that’s not what’s weirding me out.” “Hun, you sound… spacey, are you alright?” “Yeah, I am fine just confused, need answers, and as I said weirder out. “Oh, what by? It’s not like you to be weirded out by anything.” “It could be nothing, I don’t know, ill tell you latter…maybe,” I said quietly. “Did our neighbors dog scare you again, how many times to I have to tell you its not a werewolf, and even if it was it wouldn’t be howling in the middle of the day. They are night creatures.” My wife said in a mocking tone. She was poking fun at something that happened earlier in the year, I had come back from watching a movie with some of the guys, and it had a werewolf in it. I also admit that I was a tiny bit drunk. My neighbor’s dog, which is a foxhound, let out a howl because it wanted to be let in. Well, lets just say when my wife came home she found me with a wood stake huddled in a corner. Fun times eeh? “You still their Hun?” My wife said, snapping me out of my flash back. I hadn’t noticed I paused for that long “Yeah, I am still here you just brought back a bad memory,” I said with a falsified sad tone in my voice. Well, my wife knows me to well, she read right through it. “Oh really, you can look at a dead body and be perfectly fine, but a dog scares you, I guess I married a coward,” She said jokingly, while laughing. “Yep, I guess so, anyhow,” I paused, “How's work today, any good questions? “Well, there was this one guy who looked really weird, id say old fashioned, it was weird, he asked one personal question of me and then, a few about Chicago. I guess he noticed my Chicagoan accent. ”  “Wait, did this man have gray hair at the temples? And a 3-piece suit? Maybe around 50 years old” I said, my voice raising with excitement “Well, he was wearing a hat, but it looked like more than his temples had white hair. He also looked around 65 or 70 not 50.” She said, a hint of curiousness in her voice, I could just see a quizzical look on her face. I trusted my wife on the subject of age, she works with people all day, and so she is good at guessing ages of people. “But he was wearing a 3 piece suit, he was also wearing a old Rolex watch. Why do you ask?” “Its just kind of weird, because the way you describe the gentleman makes him seem just like the man that came to me earlier today, other than the age and how much of his hair was white.” “Well people don’t age that much in 3 hours, so it must just be someone who dresses similarly, nothing more than a coincidence.” She said this was a concerned voice, she must think I am a going crazy. “Yeah, must be. It has to be.” “Mhmm, well my brake is over, ill call you when I am on my way home. I will talk to you later, love you.” “You too,” I said distractedly, the man still on my mind. I hung up the phone, and went to read up on the case the Mr. Messenger had asked me about. That night when my wife got home, we had dinner talked about sports. Boston sports were going down hill so it was kind of a halfhearted conversation. We then went to bed. BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!! I awoke to the incisive beeping of my alarm clock, I didn’t remember setting it. I looked at the clock and it said it was 11:10. Odd time for an alarm clock to go off. It turned to 11:11 and suddenly my wife popped into our bedroom and said, “11:11 make a wish!!” She was in a great mood, and the smell of wonderful blueberry pancakes, and Canadian bacon lofted down the hall from the kitchen, which was my favorite breakfast. “Well how about having a beu…no, I already have that,” She laughed and gave me a cute small smile, the kind that just makes you all warm inside. “Okay I made my wish,” “What did you wish?” She said like a little kid. “To eat blueberry pancakes, that my wife just made, with her.” I said while getting out of bed. “Oh, very good wish, wait, how did you know I had made something? I haven’t told you” She said, in a joking voice with one eyebrow raised, that’s the reason I married her, while she is very mature, and on top of things, she also loves to have fun and be, well, I guess free. “I can smell them Hun, it’s my favorite meal you know. Blueberry pancakes that is.” “Well I am sorry to disappoint you, you see you forget one rule about making wishes, so.” “What rule?” I said falsely angered. “The rule that says you can never, ever, tell anyone about it or it wont come true.” She said while pushing me down on to the bed, she gave me a kiss. And then pulled me back up. “What was that for? And what aren’t you telling me?” I said, happily surprised. “Well the kiss was unhelpable. And well, because you told me your wish, I made waffles instead of pancakes.” “But, it’s already cooked, how did you know I was going to tell you before I did?” “Well I am a time traveler Hun,” She said jokingly, and we both laughed. We ate the wonderful breakfast quickly because my wife had to get to work, on Sundays she gets to go in to town later. When she left, I showered and get ready for lunch with Mark. While taking the shower I remembered something about the story I was to tell Mr. Messenger later in the week. The tour guide who it was based on had taken a shower before going off on her abnormal day. Now, you must be thinking, everyone takes showers before their day starts. Well, the thing about my shower, is the water temperature during it dropped to really cold and back up to warm. That had happened with the tour guide. I hope this doesn’t mean my day will be weird. As I walked down Beacon Street, I stayed out of every ally, and away from any creep person, so to not set up I weird change of events, I guess my wife is right, I am kind of paranoid. I got to the restaurant a little early, and grabbed us a table. The restaurant was dimly lit and kind of I would say murky, or stuffy. There was a family sitting next to me who was arguing over where to go to see Boston the best, I leaned over and said, “You should go to Boston and Cambridge hosting tours. Their tour guides are some of the best in Boston.” “Oh, if this is the case, why have I never heard of this Boston and Cambridge tour guides?” The women said clearly annoyed of my interruption. “Because, they are a small association, but my wife Kelley Relington. Best in the city, every day she has new information about the city, its quite amazing really.” I said beaming. “Oh, okay will take a look. Have nice day sir.” The women put the emphasis on the sir, I was just trying to help. Some tourist can just be so rude. I texted mark to say that I had already gotten us a table, and waited. I watched people on the street walking by. My heart skipped a beat, as Mr. Messenger walked by, but it couldn’t be him, it was only a kid maybe 15 or 16. The suit was the exact same one he had worn two days a go but it was ill fitting, like the young boy was wearing a suit with an adult cut. I must have made it up. “Hi, yes I believe someone already got a table for me, aah yes. Right over they’re in the blue blazer. “ I heard Mark say to the waiter. He walked over, and he looked nothing like he did when we were in college. He had gained a good 30 pounds of muscle and lost a ton of weight. I on the other hand have gained 7 or 8 pounds. “Its been to long Mark, how have you been?” I asked “Yes indeed it has, I have been well, and yourself?” my friend responded. Should I tell him, should I tell him about this weird gentleman whom I keep seeing at different ages all over the place? No, that would make it seem like I've lost it, I don’t want to alienate a friend who I haven’t seen in a long time. Hesitantly I said, “I have been good, work has been slow, as I said on the phone yesterday, but all and all it has been good.” “Something seems to be on your mind, is there something you are hiding from me?” My counterpart said concernedly. I had forgotten, he is a detective too, and was one of the best at determining if someone was lying or not. “Yes, I think I am going insane, well I don’t know if I am, its just really creepy I guess, well not creepy just odd.” I said, stumbling over my words. “What do you mean, just tell me why you think you are going insane, because if I remember correctly you were the most sane person I lived with through college.” “Thanks, well basically, on Saturday, a man came to me asking about one of the cases I had looked at, more specifically the one about the time traveling tour guide, you know the one I talk of right?” “Yes, I read about it in the Harold, continue.” “Okay, so from the start I noticed something strange about this man, he was in his 50’s and was dressed like he was from the 50’s, his suit, watch, everything!” I said, my voice cracking, as I got more nervous. “I noticed, a slight patch of gray hair by his temples, now this is the important part, as he got up to leave, I noticed the amount of gray hair had increased.” I paused to regain my breath, and to see how my friend had taken it, on his face he only wore an expression of concern. “I am guessing there is more, it’s not like you to get worked up on something as small as more gray hair in one hour.” “Correct you are, so later that day I talked with my wife on her break, I described the man to her, and she told me that she had seen a man on her tour that looked just as I had described, only difference was he was in his late 60’s early 70’s. And I trust her on this, she is not one to feed me information like that, which may make me go to the way side, unless she finds it weird too. Now, the last even that happened was, as I was sitting here waiting for you to arrive, a young boy maybe 15 or 16 years old walked by, and he looked exactly like the gentleman, only thing was his 3 piece suit didn’t fit him well. It’s weird, why would a 15 year old wear a suit like that?” “That is odd, quick question for you, is the suit a brown color?” “Yes, why do you ask?” looking around the place, to see if the man had come in, he hadn’t. “Well, I was on duty yesterday, and I saw a man reading a book in the ally, he looked ancient. I walked over to ask what he was doing in a private ally, I heard this loud screaming, it filled the street, and I turned around to find its source. There was this bright light behind me, when I turned around I saw this 10 year old boy wondering around, with a lost look on his face. The old man was gone. But, the young boy had the same suit; very ill fitting I have you and was holding the book. He asked where Green Dolphin Street was. Now as both you and I know that’s a street in Chicago. While I found this weird I just forgot about it, and asked the boy who he was, he said, ‘ I am an orphan, and I got separated from our group’ I took him to the closest orphanage.” He paused to take a sip of water, all of this was just too weird, and I wanted to find out about this guy, to easy my mind. When Mark, had drunk enough water he continued, “ I never saw the old man in that area again, I guess the lights were from a car that picked up the man, or the kid was a kid all along and my eyesight was lessened by the darkness. I don’t know, but I don’t think this is a coincidence. You might want to find out more about this man, and I will try and help you.” “Okay, I agree, but should I go right out and ask him, or should I slowly lead to the question.” I responded apprehensively. “Neither, you shall not ask him a thing, because we aren’t even sure if he is I guess, how shall we called it, odd? You should allow him to tell you, either by intention or by fault. SO, what I want you to do, is go along with this thing he asked you to do on Mondays, let him ask any question, and add his own comments, right them down, and tell me. I will use all in my power to find out about this man. Do you understand?” “Yes, I do” all of his ordering me around makes me feel really small, this is my problem not his, well I guess now it is because he has seen it too. And it may cause [problems for him too. “Can you tell me this guys name, or at least the name he told you? I will look through my database to try and find out more.” “Uhh, Yeah, his name was Messenger, John Messenger. Do you think this guy maybe a bad guy or something, why are you taking so much interest?” “That name sounds pretty generic, but I will check. And, yes and no, actually I really have no idea, but if what we think is true this guy has found away to make himself younger, or older for that matter.” “Well this guy had an ID and everything, I think that’s his real name.” “Wait, you saw his ID, what year did it say he was born?” “I only saw it for a second, he had to take it out of his wallet to get at a picture of something. It looked like it was from Illinois or some central state like that.” “Well that narrows down the search, but makes it harder. I can’t access the Illinois population database, without a case being opened.” “Cant, you open a case? You know make it a public safety ordeal?” I asked, not knowing anything about the logistics. “No, you cant, their needs to be an action taken by the suspect, that affects public safety, also then it would be with a different agency, not the Boston police.” By that time our lunches arrived, and we decided to no longer talk about the subject of the man until after I had my first meeting with the man. We talked about what we had done in the past few years, and then got up and left. All together we were at lunch for 3 ore 4 hours, a lot longer than both of us had suspected. This man was starting to interfere with how I was thinking, I just want to figure who he is now, not in a few weeks, ugh waiting sucks. At that point I saw the man again, no longer 15 but in his early 20’s, this is so weird, its like he ages a year per hour. He was walking maybe 3 blocks away from me on the other side of the street, staring avidly at a plasma television. Almost seemed like he had never seen it before. I waited for the walk signals at the cross walk, and when I turned on I bolted across the street. I didn’t want the man to walk away before I talked to him. I walked casually past the man at the store window to make it seem normal, as well as to catch my breath so I wasn’t out of it when I went to talk to him. I turned around and said, “Why hello, Mr. Messenger, what a pleasant surprise it is running into you. Are you looking to by this new television here?” I said, a little louder than I would have liked “Aah, so that’s what it is, I never had a television, way to expensive, something like only 10 million people have it or something like that. I’ve never seen one this thin, or long, or with color” He gave me a look of bewilderment. This struck me as very odd not only the fact that he had never seen a color television, but also the fact that the number of only 10 million having televisions, that was true in well, the 50’s now the number is so much bigger. I considered asking him what year it was, but then I remembered the conversation I had with Mark. “Ha-ha, yes indeed isn’t it amazing what modern science can do for us?” “Indeed, such a wonderful thing color television is!!” The man yelled, he was no attracting attention from people walking down the street, “Are you looking forward to our meeting tomorrow?” I said quickly to change the subject. “What are you talking about? I don’t even know you.” He said. “You, are John Messenger correct?” “Yes, I am, again I ask who are you” His innocent stair gone, replaced by an accusative one. “I am Mike Rellington, you came asking about one of the cases I researched two years ago, about the tour guide in Chicago who gave good tours with the Chicago historical walk.” I said, again getting weirded out. “I don’t remember you, and I don’t know what you are talking about, or why would I ask a random man about my girlfriend. Good Day Sir.” He said as he quickly walked away. His voice was the exact same as the man who had seen me earlier in the week. How weird. Maybe he is forgetful, and he has it written down somewhere. OR! Or maybe when he changes his age he forgets everything that happened at the last age. And what did he mean about his girlfriend, I don’t even remember him saying anything about the tour guide being his girlfriend OY, I am going to go insane by the end of this. I stood standing in the middle of the street in awe of what had just conspired, I looked around and everything was a multi colored blur. I walked in a daze to one of the benches along Beacon Street and sat down, for what felt like ages. Once I gathered my thoughts I got up and walked home, and for the rest of the day I spent preparing for the meeting with Mr. Messenger, which may not even happen if he actually doesn’t remember. I read through all the notes I had on the tour guide, memorizing every small fact so I didn’t leave anything out. I also decided on marking were to stop each day. So for the next 8hours I went through and read the story to myself, timing it so I knew exactly when I had read for one hour. That night I couldn’t sleep. I was too nervous for the hour with the age changing man. That morning I quickly showered, and ate breakfast, I wanted to make sure I was physically ready as well as mentally for the meeting. Didn’t want to go and break my promise with Mark on the first meeting. I just kept telling myself, don’t ask any questions of him personally, only ask if he understands. That morning my wife had left early like I had asked, I wanted there to be no distractions, because I needed to find out who this man is and why he wanted to know about this tour-guide. 5 minutes before 11 my doorbell rang, I jumped up at the sound and ran to the door. When I opened the door, there was John Messenger, well the 50-year-old version of him. In the same suit as before. I said, “Good Morning Mr. Messenger, come on it, lets get started.” As he was taking off his over coat I said, “I see you are wearing your favorite suit.” At that he gave me a weird look. I said, “Well, I saw you wearing yesterday. Actually I wasn’t even sure if you were going to come today, yesterday you made me feel like you had forgotten.” He gave me a weird look and said, “What do you mean yesterday? I didn’t see you yesterday.” “Yes. You did, around 3 or 4 o’clock in Coolidge corner.” “I don’t even remember being in Coolidge corner yesterday, but whatever, lets get started.” “That’s odd, you said your name was, well your name yesterday. But yes lets. We only have an hour.” He looked like the way I had seen him the first time he met with me. I started on the long story. “Well it had been a normal morning from her, she had gotten out of bed, eaten a bowl of cereal with a grapefruit..” “No, No start with when you got the assignment, like the call or meeting you had with the person who asked you to start.” He interrupted. This struck me as odd, why would he care about that? “Okay, I will start with that. I was working on some small project looking for where a small golden broche had came from, when my wife walked in and said ‘So, we just got the weirdest call, someone has a new project for you.’ I responded and said, who, I didn’t even hear the phone ring, who was it? ‘You didn’t? I let it ring thinking you would get it, but anyway, the man on the phone said he was wondering you could research the story of the time traveling tour guide from Chicago, the one that was a big rumor going around about. You know it,’ she had said comely, At this point something in my gut told me she wasn’t telling me something I couldn’t tell what or why for that matter, so I pushed the feeling aside.” “Was she lying to you? What didn’t she tell you?” Mr. Messenger interrupted me suddenly. “I think I should tell you the full story you want to know about, rather than tell you if or what she had left out, I am not even going to tell you if she did leave something out, I don’t think you need to know that. Shall I continue?” “Yeah, sorry I've never been good at listening to stories. But go ahead continue.” I shifted in my chair, awkwardly. Just being around Mr. Messenger was starting to weird me out. “Where was I?” I paused to regain my thoughts, “Right, I asked my wife, was there any starting info from this mystery caller. ‘Unfortunately no, he just said what sounds like a riddle, //In the Chicago hall, where books upon books are kept, one of the seemingly normal bookshelves, held something different, life changing different.// // Book number R38783 really, or to be false? // Do you have any idea what that means?’ I sat there thinking about if for a little bit and said, well the Chicago hall that holds books has to be the Chicago Public Library. And I don’t understand the middle, but that will probably be clearer once I do more research. ‘What is the number there at the end of the riddle?’ I gave my wife at the point a look of disgust, an said, now Hun, you must know that is a book number, I mean you go to the library all the time.” “Why, did she go to the mall everyday?” Mr. Messenger asked politely. “She did, and still does because she is a tour guide, she wanted to make sure she had a new facts every day, to make sure that she has something new to tell tourists every single day. Back to the story, in response my wife said, ‘Yeah I do go every day, I spend 3 hours a day in the CPL I've never seen a Reference book with ordering of numbers, usually its in the 1-4 not 8’s and 7’s.’ That is true, it is a weird number. I had thought to myself.” “Why would she drive all the way up to Chicago, just to read a few books about Boston?” Mr. Messenger said, with a fake sense of curiousness. “Oh, because at the time we were living in Chicago, I keep saying my wife, but at the time she was just my faience.” “Aah Gotcha, sounds good, continue with the story,” I looked at the clock; it was already 11:30. We were behind my schedule so I asked, “Do you mind if we go a tiny bit past 12 o’clock today, just to make sure we keep upon with the schedule I made?” “NO!” Mr. Messenger yelled. “We cant do that, we must end at 12 today. I have a doctors appointment right after today.” “Okay, that’s fine how about next week?” “No, we can never go past 12 o’clock, I always have something to do. Can you please continue.” The gray hair on his head, had started to creep up from his temples.. Increasing again. “Alrighty, at this point both me and my now wife, were sitting awkwardly across from each other in a thoughtful silence, neither one of us could sit still. And with the leather chair I was sitting in it kept squeaking. ‘Well I guess you should go check it out’ my wife had said to me. I responded with, yes I should, I slowly got up and started to walk towards the door. I got in my car and drove over to the library, I was on autopilot, I saw without seeing. This case wasn’t like the normal ones that I had been working on, it came from an anonymous person, and the facts were spotty at best, and pieces of important information were missing. I knew from the start that this was going to be an interesting case.” I checked the time, it was 11:45, 15 minutes left, and I haven’t learned a thing about Mr. Messenger, or why he cares about this so much. “So, when I got to the library I went immediately to the reference section of the library. I looked up and down, at books ranging from about Chicago to the New York Mets. There was no book with a matching number as I was given. I walked up to this 70-year-old librarian who was working on stamping books. She looked up and said, ‘Mike how great it is to finally meet you’ this took me aside a few, I had never even heard about this frail women. ‘Your Fiancé, talks about you none stop, I feel like I know you already.’ I laughed and said ha-ah that sounds about right. ‘How may I help you today Mike?’ I said, Oh well I was looking for this book, in the reference section, and it wasn’t there. ‘Hmm that’s odd, reference books aren’t supposed to be taken out so it should be there, let me check in the computer to see what’s up, what was the book number?’ The number was //R38783.//” “This is an odd question, but did you ever find out what color dress this tour guide wore regularly?” “Damn, that’s random, umm why do you want to know?” “Well some people say that one of the best ways to tell how a person is, is by looking at their clothes.” “Hmm well I disagree with those people.” I muttered to myself. “But um yes I did find out what color dress she wore, it was a Blue one, not to different then the one my wife wore the first time you came to my office. “Gotcha, you can go back to the story.” Mr. Messenger said. He had a look of dishonesty on his face it was weird. “‘Okay, hmm this isn’t right, that cant be right, it must be a mistake.’ She had said, looking very distraught. I said to her; let me see, in my profession we take nothing as a mistake. I looked on the screen and I could see what she thought as weird, the book had been out for 100 years, since 1908, before the library and even the system books were organized was created. The name of the person who had taken the book out was Nohj Regnessem. It was all so weird, how could a book have been taken out of a library that didn’t exist yet.” BEEP.BEEP, BEEP. The alarm I had set to tell me when it was 12 went off. I am glad that it the meeting was over. I had gotten very nervous, as Mr. Messenger’s eyes had been staring at me, more attentive by the minute as more facts were reviled. At this point Mr. Messenger quickly stood up and bolted out the door. I looked over the notes I had just read back to Mr. messenger. I noticed something; the name of the man who checked out this book 103 years ago was John Messenger backwards. I would normally think that was a coincidence, but the way things have been going with this man I don’t believe it is. I really need to figure more about this man. I decided that after every meeting I would go to public records and look up this man, to figure out who he is. I should call mark and get his help in finding out more. The phone rang 3 times when he picked up “Hello Mark speaking, who is this?” “Hey Mark, its Mike I Ju…” “I didn’t think I would be hearing from you this quickly, I guess this is about the man.” He interrupted. “Yes, this is about the man, I have decided that I will go to through public records everyday to find more about Mr. Messenger. Can you get me access into them?” “I can see what I can do, it wont be right away though. It may take a week or 2.” He said “That’s fine as long as I get access, thanks.” “No Problem, I hope you find what you are looking for, I have to go though I have a meeting with the Mayor in 10 minutes.” “Aright, good bye good sir.” Hopefully he can get that access for me, I am itching to figure out whom Mr. Messenger really is. The next few days were normal days; I woke up, ate breakfast and spent the rest of the day waiting for cases. Then, on Thursday my phone rang, I jumped to pick it up because I t had been a while since I had a case, and I hoped it was. I picked up the phone and said, “Hello, Mike Relington investigation services, how may I help you?” “Hello Mike, its Mark, I got you access into personal records, on the proviso that you allow a intern to stand watch over you, and keep notes on whatever you do. You can come in every Monday at 1230 until 330.” “THANKS!” I yelled into the phone “I owe you one Mark.” “That you do, that you do.” He said playfully. I hung up the phone, and started pacing the house trying to decide what to do. Should I let Mr. Messenger tell me about himself, or should I go and look in personal records, and not give him the chance. What to do, what to do? I should call my wife I will ask her. I dialed her phone number, she picked up after one ring. “Hey Hun, what’s up?” “I need to make a decision on something. And I am having a trouble deciding by myself, I need another person to help me, do you have a moment to talk it over?” “Well I have a short tour in about 5 minutes, but it is my last one of the day, I will come straight home and we can talk about it then. Is that okay?” she said. She sounded really concerned. I hope she can help me, because I cant make this decision by myself. I put my phone down, and then almost immediately I started ringing, I looked at the caller ID, and it was my wife. “Hello? I thought you had to lead a tour.” The voice on the line sound scared, but it was still my wife, “I do, but the guy you have been meeting has been fallowing me around all day, he is becoming like a stalker, its scary. Can you come down and stay with me for the remainder of the day?” “Yes, I’ll be in as quick as possible. Stay around other people until I get there. If I see the guy I am going to give him a piece of my mind.” I said, and I hung up the phone, grabbed my car keys and ran to my car. If this really is the guy, he is in for a world of hurt. Asking me questions and such is fine, but fallowing my wife around is totally different. I turned the car on and started to drive towards downtown Boston. Then it hit me, I kept seeing the man whenever I was out, and he seemed to be stalking me too. I think asking him today in public wouldn’t help me at all, he may run, he may act like he doesn’t know me. I will wait until Monday to ask him what he is doing. I should tell Mark. I dialed the phone; it rang twice “Yes Mike? What it is it?” Mark said when he picked up. I guess me calling him so much is annoying him. “Mr. Messenger seems to be stalking me and my wife.” “What do you mean?” He said, and air of non-believing in his voice. “Well, when ever I go out of my house I seem to run into him, at a different age I have you, but still him. And now, my wife just called me scared as hell, asked me to drive in to be with her because she thinks that Mr. Messenger is fallowing her around. That’s what I mean by stalking.” I said, my voice trembling. “Oh, I see. That’s pretty suspicious, do you want me to file charges?” he said, sincerely. I thought about it and said, “No, I want to find out more about him first, like about his age shifting. And why me, and why my wife, and why the story about the tour guide. It’s all so weird. I need to figure this out.” “Alright, keep me in the loop, if you want I can assign an officer to protect your wife. It wouldn’t be that hard.” “No, no he will know we are suspicious of him, and then he would no longer tell us about himself. I should go, it’s hard enough to drive when scared and jumpy.” “Okay, for your sake I hope this is nothing. Good Bye Mike.” He said genuinely concerned. I pulled up into a parking space right in front of the main office of my wife’s tour guide service. I quickly turned off the car and ran in to the room. It was primarily quiet the only sound was the typing of secretaries. It was a great big room, with desks every few yards. A great big sign that said “Boston Tours. The best way to know about the great city.” Stood In the middle. I quickly went up to the main secretary and said, “Have you seen my wife? She called me and told me to come in.” “Umm, no I haven’t seen your wife, I actually don’t know who you, or who your wife is.” “My name is Mike Relington, and my wife is Rachael Relington, she is a tour guide here.” I said agitatedly. “Oh, okay, yeah I have your wife is sitting in our waiting room, she looks really frightened, whets going on?” “Nothing that I can tell you at the moment, I am not entirely sure myself.” I turned and quickly walked into the waiting room. My wife was sitting in a corner, curled up in a chair, id never seen her so scared in all the 10years I have known her. “Mike!! Thank god you are finally here, I am so scared right now. Why is this guy fallowing me?” “I don’t know Rachael I don’t know. I have a few questions to ask you but they can wait. Do you want to come home now, or do you want to continue working, and ill just join you on your tours?” “I need to continue working, can you get a police officer to watch me, so you can continue working.” She said, quietly. “No, I can stay, I don’t have much work right now.” I said. “You should go relax, just call a police officer and have them watch over me.” This struck me as weird, why would she call me in just to have me call the cops to watch over her? “Why did you call me in if you just wanted to have the cops help you?” “Because I needed to see you. This is so weird I thought I had left it in a place no one could find it.” She said the last part to herself, I could barely hear it. “Wait, what? What did you leave?” “What, huh? Oh nothing if important.” “Hun, is there something you aren’t telling me?” “No I am telling you everything I know.” She was lying; there was something else on her mind. I knelt down next to her and said” If you learn of anything that might help me find out more about Mr. Messenger please tell me.” “I will, now you should get going and find more out about him too.” “No, I am going to stay here with you, I can’t go through personal records until tomorrow after my meeting.” “Wait, you are going through with the meeting? Are you insane?” “No, I need to find more about him, those meetings are the best times to do it.” “Okay, I guess that’s true.” She said nervously. We sat there in silence for the next 5 minutes, and then it was time for her tour. She waited until all the people signed up had showed up, and then we started walking. The group was about 13 or 14 people; I walked in the middle so not to stick out. For most of the tour I didn’t pay attention to what my wife was saying, I was looking around for any sign of Mr. Messenger. For if I saw him I would confront him about it, he was scaring my wife. And I can’t have that. I saw him once on the tour, but that’s it. And he was walking on the other side of the street in a different direction, I decided not to run across the street and make a huge deal about it. I would be seeing him tomorrow anyway; I can talk to him about it then. The next morning I woke up early around 7:30 and shook my wife to wake her up. “Huh what, what do you want?” she said in a half awake daze. “You should leave earlier than normal, so to break routine.” “Why?” she said propping herself up on her elbows. “Because that’s what you do when you are being stalked, it throws off the person stalking you. He may be fallowing you to work each day.” “But today he would be coming to talk to you so why would he fallowing me into Boston just to turn around and come back here to talk with you?” “People do weird things when they are infatuated with someone else. Really weird things.” “True, true. Okay I will leave an hour early today. While that was the main reason that I wanted her to leave, I also wanted to gather my thoughts alone before Mr. Messenger arrives. The night before I decided I was going to go right out and ask him why he was watching my wife, no need to hide my suspicions. At 11 I was standing right in front of the door waiting for Mr. Messenger to arrive. A week ago he had arrived right at 11 so he seems to be the kind of guy who arrives right on time. 15 minutes passed and Mr. Messenger still hadn’t arrived. Its weird, he was so interested in learning about this story, but he had to leave so quickly at 12, I didn’t think he would be arriving late. Maybe he saw me walking with the tour, so he knew we were suspicious of him. So I guess he decided to stop coming. Then the phone rang. Maybe it’s Mr. Messenger telling me why he is late. “Hello, this is Mike Relington spe..” The person on the other end of the line interrupted me. “Hello Mike,” a voice said on the other side of the line. “I have something of yours, you will miss greatly, and the city that works is great this time of year. 66 grant park, great area ay?” In the background I heard, Now Boarding fl, then the man on the other line hung up. The voice sounded very familiar. Wait. It was Mr. Messenger. I jumped up grabbed my cell phone and called my wife. I wanted to tell her what was just said. I started walking around the house, television was there, and so was my laptop. All my books and cases are in their spots. “Hmm, it went to voicemail immediately. Maybe she is on a call,” I said out load to myself. I walked out and looked around my house, there was nothing missing there either. Then there was a sinking feeling in my stomach. With my heart in my throat I dialed my wife’s number again. //RIING,// no answer, //RING,// this cant be happening, breath, breath you are just over thinking its just a prank call. //Ring,// still nothing, I checked my watch, it was 12 o’clock, her normal break time. She usually picks up the phone right away when I call her. //RING,// with each ring tone I became more nervous, //RING,// “PLEASE PICK UP!!” I yelled. “Hey, Mike is everything okay?” my next-door neighbor ran out from his house. “NO! Sorry, no I just got a call on my home phone from someone saying that they have something that I love…. and now my wife isn’t picking up her phone.” I closed my cell phone as it went to voicemail. “Well then, that is a big problem, do you want me to help? Maybe call the police?” “You can help me, but not by calling the police, but by driving me to my wife’s office. I am to distracted right now to drive.” “Okay, give me one second, let me put on something different.” He was wearing workout clothes. About 2 minutes later my neighbor whose name was Leon jumped down his stairs and waved me over to his car. We both got in and he sped down the street. A bread knife could have cut the tension and silence in the car. “You really should call the cops, we may need help once we get there.” Leon said, breaking the silence “Help with what? Its not like a hostage situation, I am not even sure if she is missing or anything, calling the cops now would be a stupid idea.” I snapped back. “Wow, sorry, I am just trying to help.” He said, quietly. I looked over at him and he had a look of rejection on his face, this made me feel bad so I said, “Sorry for snapping, I am just under a lot of stress now that my wife may be kidnapped, or worse. This has been just a weird few weeks.” “What do you mean?” “Mean by what?” “Sorry what do you mean by a weird few week.” “Oh, well, 3 weeks ago this man came to me asking about an old case I worked on. Then, the next day I saw him but it wasn’t him, because he was like 15 years younger, then I saw him the day after 20 years older. Then I ran into him on the street and he didn’t remember whom I was, even though we had a meeting planned for the next day. Then at the meeting he looked the same age as he did when I first saw him. And then he was stalking my wife, and now this.” “That is an odd few weeks, are you sure you kept seeing him? Like it could have just been people who looked the same.” “I thought that at first too, but what two people wear the same exact suit everyday? I am positive it’s the same person, as well as they had the same voice.” “Okay, that indeed is weird,” Leon, said as we pulled up to my wife’s office. “Do you want me to come in with you?” “No, keep the car running though.” I said over my shoulder. I walked in to the office and went up to the same receptionist as the other day. She looked up and said “Mr. Relington, I was just about to call your house.” “Why were you going to call my house?” “Well, your wife never came in, and it’s not like her to not call in when she is sick, do you know why she didn’t come in? Is she okay?” “Shit, shit shit,” I whispered to myself, and looked up to the receptionist and said, “no she isn’t okay, and she may be kidnapped.” I fell into a chair next to the desk. “WHAT!?” “I got a call this morning and the person on the other end said that they had something I loved. At first I didn’t know what he was talking about, now I do…unfortunately,” I said feeling lightheaded. “We need to call the police right away, I will do it.” “No, I am heading over there next, one of their best detectives is my friend, and was my college roommate, I am going to make sure he gets the case. “are you sure? The longer we wait to get the cops involved the more they get away.” “Its fine, they cant go far, he doesn’t know about flight, he was surprised by flat screen TV’s.” “Wow. Okay, then lets get going over to the police station then.” I felt in my pockets,. There was a sinking sensation in my stomach. “Where are my car keys?” I started looking around franticly. “Calm down, you didn’t drive here, I did. Your car keys are at home.” “right, right,” I said, my breathing slowing down. “sorry this has just kind of put me on the edge, I never saw this coming…well I did but I guess I didn’t notice, the signs. Ugh!! I don’t know anymore. I just want to be with my wife!!” I said in shock. “Don’t, worry the cops will find her, lets get going.” We got in the car and drove to the police station, I couldn’t think. “This is one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me, and I could have stopped it.” “No you couldn’t, you can’t blame yourself for this, you had no way of knowing.” Leon said, I hadn’t noticed that I was speaking aloud, judging by the look on Leon’s face he understood that. We pulled up to the police station, which was a big glass building, it seemed kind of out of place in this urban rundown section of town. I ran up the stairs and into the building. I walked up to the first person I saw and grabbed them by the shoulders, and said “Where is Mark Tolsen?” I didn’t care if I was yelling or making a scene, I need to find my wife. “His office is down the hall, and what is wrong, you have to file cases with me, and judging by your franticness, you must have a very important case.” I brushed passed him, not caring what he said, “Hey, you cant go back there, that’s police personal only.” I looked over my shoulder, and I saw the officer point at two security guards, and then at me. They ran over and grabbed me. I was almost to his office, then I lost control, I started yelling “Mark!! Mark!!, I need your help Mark.” Tears were streaming down my face, “My wife, my wife,” I started morning uncontrollably. I had no control anymore. People were looking out of there offices, I probably looked like someone after a murder conviction. But I didn’t care, my wife was much more important. Then Mark came out of his office and said “What’s all the commotion out here, I can barely focus on my work with all this yelling, if you could just be quiet.” At this point I had slumped to my knees, and I was crying uncontrollably. At this point It didn’t look like Mark had noticed me yet, I let out another moan, and then he noticed me. “Oh god, Mike what is this all about. Why do you always have to create a scene?” He hadn’t noticed I was crying yet. I said “My Wife, My Wife.” That’s all I could get out before I started crying again. “What about your wife Mike,” Mark said, blandly. “She’s been, ki..ki..” I looked down and started babbling with tears. Then it was apparent Mark noticed what was wrong. “Oh My God, Let go of him,” He said running over to the two cops who were still holding me, “When, when was she kidnapped,” He had always been good at understanding what I meant even when I said only a few words. “When did this happen?” he said now all business. “Sometime this morning, after she left for work.” I said quietly. Mark slowly helped me up, and brought me into his office. He gave me a glass of water, and waited until I calmed down, than asked “What can you tell me, do you have any idea who did this?” For a second I was silent, still reeling for my outbreak. When I was able to say something I said “I think it is Mr. Messenger. I think he was the one who took my wife.” “What do you mean, he couldn’t even remember you the day before your meeting last week, nor did he remember you bumping into him at your meeting.” I didn’t remember saying that to him, maybe I yelled it during my outbreak, I had no control over myself. “I know, But I think he was acting, lying to me, because he was for one stalking my wife at her work, to the point were she called me and asked me to come in and make sure he stayed away from her. And he didn’t show up to our meeting today, and at 12 the time when he was supposed to be leaving I got a call from someone that said, ‘I have something of yours, you will miss greatly, and the city that works is great this time of year. 66 grant park, great area ay?’ I have known idea what that means.” “Okay, that does point a little towards Mr. Messenger. Is that all you know?” “That’s all I can remember right now, I feel like I am forgetting something though. Oh, at one point he had asked me about the dress that the tour guide, wore. I had told him one like my wife wears a lot. I am not sure if that helps at all, but yeah.” “Well, lets go get a group of people together, to start looking for clues.” He walked out of his office for a few minutes leaving me alone. When he came back he had 10 police officers with him. They all looked like they had seen their fair share of death and suffering. “Okay. So we have one missing women, and one very suspicious man, and not many clues. But we will find them.” Mark started to say to the men, “The only clue we have is a clue given to us possibly by the suspect. That clue is, and I quote: I have something of yours, you will miss greatly, and the city that works is great this time of year. 66 grant park, great area ay?. Does anyone have any ideas what that could mean.” “One man stepped forward and said, “well, the city that works is Chicago, so maybe that’s the city they are trying to get too?” Another man stepped forward and said “And, Grant st. and Park st is considered the start of Route 66, there are no houses there, but maybe he is hiding her somewhere around there… or planning too. ___  “Good good, that does give us a great place to start, lets go set up the investigation board… and can someone get some coffee going its going to be a long night….” Mark said in response. Many of the officers laughed, I guess the coffee was a joke. We all filed out of the cramped office and walked down the hall to a room marked as investigation A. In the room were 5 computers, a flat screen television, and an electronic whiteboard. Mark turned to me and said, “Once we start to find things out we are going to need you to tell us parts of tour guide story. So to help us fine rhyme and reason in this kidnapping.” “okay, I have it mostly memorized, and tonight when I go home I will get my notes.” “Sorry, but you wont be going home, you will be sleeping here if you get any at all. It’s a standard precaution, this guy may have accomplishes who may come and try and find you.” This took me by surprise, I never had seen that happen, “Really, do you do that for all cases?” “No, just for special cases, with important people…and you are important to me, so…” “Thanks, ill try to remember as much as possible. “Alright lets get started, it would be so much easier if we had a recorded phone call, instead of a memory of one. Then we could do voice recognition.” “Wait!! I forgot, my phone automatically saves any unknown phone number, and the first call I received from it.” “Why didn’t you tell us earlier? Can I see your phone?” I handed it to him, and looked at him, he understood what if meant by the stare and said, “Sorry, right, wife kidnapped. Lets see what’s on this message.” He plugged my phone into the computer and placed the recorded file onto the computer. He played through it and said “There is a lot of background noise, can you get rid of it?” Right as he said that I heard something in the background that I had forgotten about. “Wait, don’t delete it.” I yelled “Let me do my job and finding your wife Mike, you are just here for information” Mark said dryly. “No wait, I heard something in the background, it sounded almost like an announcement. Or something like that.” I said excitedly. “Alright, play it over, bust up the background sound if you can.” Mark said. In the background a women was heard saying “Now boarding to Chicago fl.” “Well then, that does help us, lets put this through voice recognition, see who it is.” We waited for it to be processed, a cop came back and said “This is a recorded voice, computer generated, its used all over the place.. sorry but no go.” “Damn it, thanks though, run this too now” He handed the cop a memory stick with a sound bit of the callers voice on it. “Cant that still help us though, I mean, it’s from an airport isn’t it? It was saying that a flight was boarding. SO cant we go and find out what flights went to Chicago?” I said franticly “Yes and no, the thing about Boston, is there are over 4 or 5 Minor to Major Airports that have flights to Chicago, not including Providence.” “Mark, have you been to all those airports?” I had fully gained control of my mind again, the shock gone away. So I was able to think clearly. “No, why do you ask?” “Well, I have, Boston is the only airport that uses a recorded voice and it’s only in one terminal. The American Airlines terminal. Which if I am not mistaken in terminal C.  “Alright, we can try. Ron, Lia, go to Logan and get the itinerary for any flights leaving from here to Chicago…actually get a computerized version for any flight leaving from terminal C. and all flights to Chicago out of the airport to just make sure.” Mark said pointing at too police officers, who immediately went to do their jobs. “Sir, this is the first time this has happened, it’s so weird, and I didn’t even know it was possible.” An intern who was helping out said, frightened. “What, what’s weird?” Mark said flatly “We ran the voice clip… and we got 4 name, and all of them were a %97 match. Is that even possible?” “No that’s impo…” “I am here to help with information right, via the tour guide story right?” I interrupted. “Yes, yes you are…judging by the tone in your voice I am guessing you have something for us?” “I do, so, we have decided that this man is able to change his age correct?” “Yes, we have decided this,” Mark said. “well, the tour guide, had found this book, at the Chicago Library, it had historically appeared, and she had never seen it before. And the book, taught whom to go back in time.. on page 64. Then on page 65 it taught how to keep oneself young. Now Page 66 well it was half new information, and half a summery.” “Wait, maybe the 66 in the message isn’t referring to route 66, because that’s what the two streets are talking about, maybe 66 is about the page number. Maybe he is trying to tell us how…or why he is doing this.” A police officer jumped in saying, while he was writing up the quote on the white board. “ Yes, maybe, now if only we knew what’s on that page. “ Mark said. “well if you would let me finish…” I said agitatedly “I have heard some rumors about this page, and I just remembered one that popped up the most….. It has been said that the 66th page taught how to take 4 voices you have recently heard and combine them with your own. Making a new voice all together. The only problem with it is if someone who’s voice you are using hears it, they only hear their own. So that’s what’s happening with the computer, it’s hearing each individual voice.” “Well then, that helps us a lot, thanks Mike.” Mark said. “When we get the list of people who people flying today run the names through a search to see what flight they are on. That should narrow down the flights. Mike, is there anything else that you could tell us about?” “Um, not right now, I need something to spark my memory, so as we are looking at names and stuff I will tell you what comes to mind.” “Alright, do you know anything else about the book? Any thing else on other pages?” “Well, I never actually saw the book, everything I know is from either talking to people. You know rumors.” “Ahh, gotcha you, well then I guess it’s just a waiting game right now.” “Cant you call Chicago, and tell them not to let anyone out of the airport if they departed from Boston, to make sure he cant gets away.” “Unfortunately no, I can not. We need evidence, and other things that we don’t have yet.” “okay. I guess it is a waiting game then. We all just sat in a circle in silence, it takes a while to get itineraries, and now that it is rush-hour it takes even longer. Time dragged on….I just wanted to find my wife. I looked around the room and no-one looked especially nervous, other than Mark, he was always there for me. Always making sure I was okay, I got through college thanks to him. After the death of my father I was thinking of dropping out, I hadn’t thought about this in a while. But I guess new one brings one tragic event back. Mark must have seen the look on my face, he got up and said “Hey Mike, lets go back to my office, and talk for a little bit. Okay?” And hopefully he will get me through this…. “Sure, fine.” I said quietly. Nerves taking over again. “What’s on your mind Mike, you seem down.” Mark said when we got into his office. “Nothing, I am fine. I swear” I said, half heartedly. “Mike I have known you for many years, all through out college when you got this look on your face…something more than nothing was on your mind. Please, for your sake…talk to me.” “Fine, this is just bringing back thoughts of my father, I don’t think I could take losing another important person to me, I just cant.” I said, tearing up. “You Wont, we don’t know why this guy kidnapped your wife, it could just be for money…money we will give him.” “Alright. I guess.” It was a little more comforting knowing that I had people helping, but still. “Let us get back to the investigation room, maybe they found something by now.” When we walked into the room the silence was gone, replaced with chaos. People were running left and right, papers were flying as people were looking for things. All the action seemed to be focused around the sound table. Where the operator was furiously working on his computer. Mark yelled “What is going, someone inform me of what’s going on.” “He contacted us again, well he contacted Mike again. Its another riddles.” “Who did, who contacted us,” Mark said. “The suspect….” An intern said. “aah, what is the riddle?” Mark said, getting down to business “The riddle is: Pound is a nice thing when flight death is around. I have no idea what this means, its so vague.” “Wow, um yeah, I have no clue what that means, and id…” “We have the itineraries!!” Said the two officers who had left earlier. “Thanks, back to the new riddle” Mark said. I was looking down at my phone, which was lying on the table, when I remembered something, “Wait, Wait doesn’t the pound symbol look like the number short hand?” “Yeah, Why,” most of the cops in the room said, giving me a weird look. “Maybe he wants us to change part of this into numbers or something like that.” “Yes, and this is why we should have more civilians in on our investigation… they think out of the box.” Said Mark, he was one of the only cops who didn’t give me a weird look. I didn’t complete think my idea was right, it sounded kind of arbitrary. “I do have one question though,” I said. “What is it?” “Why is he giving us so many clues, its like he wants us to find him….or he is sending us in the wrong direction…like he is right under our noses. Or something like that.” “There is always that option, he could have never left, it would be hard to kidnap someone and than take them on a plane, so many witness.” Mark said. Then he turned to the sound operator and said, “Jim, the next time he calls If he does I want you to track the number, I want to see where he is. And Maralyn and Rob go and try to see if the phone company can find out where the last to calls were made, they don’t have to be exact, just a general area.” He said pointing at two other cops. Each went off to do their orders. I sat down with Mark to start deferring the riddle, finding what number was which. “Okay, lets figure this thing out,” Mark said as he looked at me. “yeah lets.” I said “So we do think he left on a plane correct. So lets change everything after flight to numbers.” Mark said thoughtfully “Okay so Death numerically would be?” I asked? “well D and E would be 3, so there are to options for that, its 333 because for e you have to hit the 3 key twice, or its just 33.” “Yeah, and A is 1, and T is 8. And H is two options, 4 or 44.” “So what are our options?” “We get 4 options. One is 333184, other ones are, 33184, 3331844, or 331844.” “Well 3331844 is too long for a flight number. So lets run the other ones and see if there are any flights with corresponding flight numbers.” Mark said, handing the sheet with the numbers over to a computer operator. We waited while. And then some more. “There were no flights that matched this numbers anywhere in the Northeast.” The computer operator said. “All flights were between Britain on Moscow.” “Damn” That was the only thing I could say as I slumped into my chair. “Well don’t lose hope yet. I just thought of something.” Mark said reassuringly. “what, what is it?” “Maybe he didn’t mean literal number translations…the number of the beast, and therefore death, in the modern punk world is 666.”I looked down at the sheet with flight numbers on it and I it jumped out at me, 666 was the flight number between Boston and Chicago Midway. ________________________________________________I guess that makes sense, Midway is the older airport. I looked at Mark and said “Well, this make sense,” I pointed at the list “Midway was around in the 50’s which is the time I think he is from. And O’Hare was not.” “Alright awesome, lets stop that plane from off loading, we will stop him on the tarmac!” Mark got up quickly. “I hate to be the bringer of bad news,” I quiet intern said, “But that flight landed like an hour ago, they are probably already off the plane and off to where ever he was going.” “Dammit!!” Mark screamed, “Well, I guess its time for a road trip, well a forced vacation I guess.” “What do you mean a vacation, we need to find my wife,” I said confused. Mark looked at me like I am crazy, or I guess like, I am stupid.  “What I mean by vacation is we are going to go to Boston, see if he was on the flight. And if he was take a plane to Chicago, and get help from the Chicago police. Then we will be able to find your wife. Now that he is in Chicago we can only help the police there, that’s it.”  “Oh, I thought you were abandoning this,” starting to feel really stupid for thinking that. I don’t even know why I would, Mark wouldn’t do that.  “Alright. Jane, Ron, Lake, and Dan you come with me. Everyone else stay here and continue working, I will update you when I have information to tell you.” Mark said walking towards the door. I thanked everyone for helping out, and walked out behind Mark and said, “mark I am guessing you want me to come with you, I mean I did used to live in Chicago so I know how to get around.”  “Yes, of course I want you to come with us, I think you would do more good with us instead of being back in Boston where you cant see things for yourself.”  The 5 of us all piled into a police car, Mark had decided that he would drive so to get to Logan faster. Jane was a very small, woman, she got stuck in the middle between Lake who was a 6 foot 4 giant of a man, and me. I felt bad for her, she seemed new to this. We got on the highway and drove to Logan international. For most of the ride Mark had his siren blaring, I don’t know why I guess he wanted to give Mr. Messenger as little time as possible to run. I was leaning against the door because I was so tired. This day has taken so much out of me. I stared at the white lines on the street, they seemed to blur into one long white line. The car was silent, everyone focused on their own thoughts, we drove passed the BU dorms, and I remembered a picnic had with my wife a few weeks earlier in front of the building. It had been so nice. I hope that could happen again. I wish it could be happening right now. The tears started rolling down my cheeks again, slowly at first, but they started to pick up. I couldn’t help myself I started to sob. Immediately Jane turned, and gave me a hug. She said “Aww, don’t cry Mike. We will find your wife. She will be fine”  “Yes Mike, we will. I will stay up for a full week if I need to. She will be fine, if he asks for money, I will give it out of my own savings.” Mark said. “Thanks, it’s just, I don’t know how to handle this, I have never been taught how too.” I said sadly.  “Mike, there is no way to prepare for something like this, you cant be taught how to handle someone being kidnapped. You just have to be strong, and live through it. And eventually you will find them. And all will be better.” Mark said quietly, like he was smoothing a young child.  We pulled up to Logan, and all piled out of the car. We walked into terminal C, which was a huge glass building. The carpets had weird square drawings on them. I had been here so many times I walked through on autopilot, which I guess is a good thing, I was still thinking about my wife, I couldn’t think of anything else.  Mark walked up to the checking desk and flashed his badge. The attendant there looked at it and immediately got nervous. She was looking left and right. Mark said, “Don’t worry I am not here for you, I am here to ask you about a person who may or may not have been on a flight. <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;"> She said “Okay, what flight officer.” Her voice was shaking “and what was is the persons name?” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;"> “The flight was 666, and that is apart of an on going investigation so I can not tell you. If I could just get a list of who was on the flight that would be great.” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;"> The woman hesitated and said “eehh, okay. I could lose my job for giving you this, its private information, I am not supposed to give it out to anyone.” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“I am pretty sure you can blame the police if your boss asks.” I said, a little more rudely than I had intended. Mark gave me a look like to say, shut up. <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;"> “He is right, if your boss threatens you, tell him to call me.” He handed her his card. <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">He brought the sheet over to where we were sitting in the waiting room, being police we all got to skip security. We all looked at the sheet, there was no Messenger on it, Mark said, “Dammit he isn’t on this flight.” Then something caught my eye, there was one name that looked longer, and it wasn’t a, well normal name I would say. It was longer than a normal name. I pointed at it and said, “rearrange those letters, what does it spell? I would do it, but I can’t think right now.” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“If you cant think how did you notice that?” Mark said joking. <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“Because there are something’s that come automatically too me, like seeing abnormities, but I cant connect them to anything if I am distracted. And well, I am pretty distracted.” I said, turning around in my seat. <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“The letters can spell John Messenger, He was trying to through us off his trail.” Ron said rather matter-of-factly. I had noticed that Lake had yet to say anything, he seemed to not want any part of this. I also noticed that Mark had been looking oddly at him too. I turned to Mark and said, “Hey, that Lake guy, do you know why he isn’t trying to help us out at all? He seems pretty separate from us all. And whenever we figure something out he always goes and sends someone a message on his phone.” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“I noticed that too, it is quite weird.” Mark said distractedly, he was trying to find out if we could get a private flight too Chicago, to get rid of wait time. <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“Do you know him, like have you worked with him before?” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“Come to think of it, no I just chose the 4 first people I saw. What’s his name?” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“Well his name plate says Lake Mich.” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“There is defiantly no one in my prinsict with that name, I know that for a fact.” <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“Okay, do you want me to tell him to come over and talk to you?” I said, starting to get really suspicious of this man. I had not said anything about it, but I found it weird that Mr. Messenger had called us right after we had solved the first riddle. Its like he knew right away. But that may just be me, so I shouldn’t say anything. <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">“Yes please do, I want to find out more about him. <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;"> <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">********************************************** <span style="font-family: Calibri; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;">It ends up that Mr. Mich was working with Mr. Messenger, giving him information about how the team was doing in finding where he was. When the team gets to Chicago, with the help of the Chicago PD, and a few more clues from Mr. Messenger they find him. It ends up he was employed by a CIA to capture Mike Relington attention. His wife was in on it. It was a test, to see if he could take the mental struggles of an investigation that may put his life, or people he loves life on the line.
 * // Buzz Buzz, //** The vibrating of my cell phone on my desk snapped me back into attention. “Mike Relington investigation services here, how my I help you?”