Chapter 3 of the Gold Lady

Chapter 3

         Jordan surveyed the wreck that had once been her office. She felt surprise when she noticed the open door. She believed it was closed and locked when she left the night before. Distraction might have made her careless. When she pushed open the door and saw the chaos that greeted her, surprise turned to shock, and then quickly erupted into rage. She stood rooted to the spot in her doorway absorbing the damage. Shattered pottery and glass crunched underfoot as she walked slowly into the room. Tears began to prick her eyes, and her throat went thick and hot. Stubbornly she swallowed back the tears, and pulled out her cell phone, edging her way to her private office as she punched numbers. Jordan did a slow once over, noting with dismay the blank spaces on her office walls. The Etruscan vase from the sideboard against the left wall was gone, probably smashed into a thousand unrepairable pieces on the office floor.
         Once Gary had arrived, with the police in tow, Jordan slumped down in the hallway and closed her eyes briefly. She could not bear to stand in her office any longer, and left Gary to deal with the police. Her mind raced over the antiques and artifacts missing or broken. An aborigine mask from Australia; she received that as a gift from a tribal leader from The Outback. Gone, or maybe with the jumbled mess on the floor. The replica of the pyramid outside the Louvre she received last year after confirming a portrait they purchased of Louis XIV was a highly crafted forgery. That she knew was gone. A stocky detective approached her. He hesitated briefly before addressing her. “Dr. Carmichael,” he began, “can we have a word with you?”
         “Yes, Detective, er,” she racked her brain for his name, “ummm, what is it?” She did  not feel in any mood for niceties. The violation and destruction of her office hurt too much, and still hovered close to the surface. Anger and pain roiled to the surface again as she remembered the destruction of items she lovingly collected over the years in her travels. Some sick bastard defiled her things. They would pay, she vowed silently.
         “It’s Abrams, Dr. Carmichael, “ he reminded her. His patience had already begun to wear thin. He had a full load on his desk at headquarters, and no time to play nursemaid to this…girl. “It’s Detective Abrams. “ He repeated. “I have been speaking with your assistant, and he provided us with a list of the items in your office that may be missing.”
         Jordan interrupted. “Were you able to get any fingerprints, or DNA?” A hopeful light entered her eyes. “Will you be able to find the bastard who did this?” She nodded at her open office door.
         Detective Abrams sighed heavily. “Please Dr. Carmichael, give us some time to look into this. We need to eliminate you and your assistant, and any other people who regularly visited your office to compare their fingerprints to those found in your office. But in my opinion, “ he continued, “the perpetrator more than likely wore gloves and didn’t leave any fingerprints behind. Do you know why anyone would break into your office? This isn’t exactly a high rent area, and you aren’t known to have a safe in your office.” He already knew the answer to this question, but wanted to verify her information with what her assistant had provided. You always followed the money, and this office was heavily insured.
         Jordan didn’t catch the undertones in the question and answered freely. “I don’t keep anything of high value in my office Detective Abrams. No piece in my office is worth more than $5,000.” She looked up at him. A thought struck her just then. A wild idea really. “The only thing of value I might have is a book I received in the mail yesterday.” She thought of the item in her briefcase sitting on the floor next to her.
         Detective Abrams didn’t appear to be impressed. “A book? Why would a book be worth anything?”
         Jordan almost laughed at that. “Detective, some books are worth lots of money. This one just happens to be a key to finding a gold statue. It may or may not even exist. But the thought of gold has always struck a chord with the greedy. Don’t you watch movies?”
         “Excuse me if I don’t seem too impressed ma’am. But I have never seen this type of destruction over some book that might or might not lead to some treasure. This perp went to too much trouble over a might have been. I’d like to talk more about your insurance policy. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to take this conversation to headquarters.”
         Jordan seemed startled at the suggestion they go to headquarters to finish this conversation. She looked up at Abrams’ face. “Is it really necessary to go to your headquarters Detective?”  Jordan felt this request highly unusual. But then again, interaction with the police didn’t happen on a regular basis.
         Abrams took a little delight in the stressed expression on the archeologist’s face. He loved making people squirm. One of the few pleasures he received from his job lately. The joy had gone out of police work, and boredom set in years ago. He thought this case would prove interesting. He already didn’t like the look of this girl. What was the big deal anyway? Her things were only broken pottery and glass,, and not too valuable. Or so she says. Anything worth that much money; he would definitely kill for $5,000. Well, maybe a bit more than that. He hid a devilish smile. “Ma’am, it is procedure to interview you at headquarters. Then we can take your statement, and you can be on your way. It really is best if you come down now and get it over with. While all this is still fresh in your mind.” He waved a hand to indicate her office.
         Jordan didn’t appear happy at this statement. “What about my office? I need to get it cleaned up. Get a new lock for the door.” She hoped that would be sufficient to assuage the detective for right now. She really didn’t want to have to leave and follow him downtown.
         Abrams stared intently at Jordan with his beady black eyes. Determination to win this contest of wills ate at him. She probably trashed her own office for insurance money. The insurance on the joint totaled about $100K. The slimy robbery detective felt confident he could break her within twenty minutes once he got her to his domain. The thought of running this girl made him drool, and he had to consciously keep himself from cackling out loud at the image. Abrams had a distinct dislike of women, and especially strong, successful ones. They never gave a decent, hardworking man like him the time of day. He also wondered briefly about this book she prattled on about.
         Jordan sighed in resignation. It seemed apparent that she better go with this detective or he’d hound her incessantly. She didn’t think her wounded psyche could handle that right now. Jordan felt a tension headache begin behind her eyes. If she didn’t get some medication, it would be a full blown migraine within hours. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a prescription bottle of medication and swallowed two tablets with a swig from her water bottle. Abrams got a quick view of a small, leather-bound notebook. His curiosity peaked as he wondered what the book contained. He decided he would try to get it from her.
         “Will you accompany me to my office ma’am?” He asked, knowing full well that he won their little contest of wills.