Thorpe's Candle

KEY WEST

Skyler watched a great white egret in the courtyard below his office. The bird danced a series of strange gyrations in a frustrated attempt to attract a mate. Skyler felt frustration, too, but for a different reason — he had found scant information on the mineral korium, and nothing on a korium device. And he discovered very little new info to what Dick Miller at the Pentagon reported about the current status of Yankee-class nuclear subs. Massaging his neck, he sipped coffee while gazing at the ocean through breaks in the trees.

Skyler's office was near the corner of Emma and Geraldine streets in Key West. Often when tourists left the Mel Fisher Maritime Museum and headed to the Ernest Hemingway Home a few blocks away, they would stop to admire the stately colonial home. Beyond the stonewall surrounding the estate, they could hear the soft clicking of the sprinklers that nourished the lush, manicured lawn all year round. It’s landscaping of yellow hibiscus, purple bougainvillea and royal palms made for a beautiful photo. Few noticed the array of communications antenna and satellite dishes mounted on the roof, hidden behind giant ficus trees. A wrought iron gate kept the public out and a bronze plaque was the only clue to what lay inside. It read: OceanQuest World Headquarters.

“Morning, Sky. Welcome back.”

Skyler turned to face Amanda Byrne. “Hi, Mandy. You been keeping everyone in line while I was gone?”

“Doing my best.” The twenty-year-old college intern majored in Marine Biology at Florida Atlantic University and had elected to earn extra credit by working at OceanQuest over her summer break. She wore a red pullover, cutoff jeans and tennis shoes. Her blond hair was tied in a ponytail and her sunglasses hung on a strap around her neck. She carried a clipboard under her arm. “Are you back for a while?”

“Hard to say. There are a lot of loose ends to tie up on this submarine incident.”

“I'm sure sorry to hear about the assault and your injury on the cruise ship.” By this time Amanda had maneuvered her way into Skyler's office.

“Thanks.” He nodded with a half-hearted smile. “I heal fast.”

“So where is your girlfriend these days?”

“Candice is doing a fashion shoot in Istanbul. She'll be back in a couple of weeks.” He knew exactly where the conversation was going. Amanda had a crush on him since she came to OceanQuest.

“I was thinking,” she said shyly. “Maybe we could stop for a beer or something after work sometime?”

“Great idea. Spread the word around the office and we'll get a whole group together.”

“Right.” She dropped her shoulders. “I'll mention it.” Then she said, “What are you working on so early? Anything I can help you with?”

“Only if you're an expert on a mineral called korium.”

“I vaguely remember the name from chemistry class, that's about all. What's so special about it?”

“I don't know, Mandy. But it’s important enough to be the last words of a dying man. I've gone through the research records of every major university with no luck in finding a scientific or government user. Now I'm letting the database compile a list of possible commercial users, past or present.”

Amanda looked at the computer terminal. “I think it's done.”

“That was quick.” Skyler stood beside her. As he read the screen, he felt Amanda move closer so their arms touched. The message read: Search Complete. Press Enter for results. A single name appeared: Niagara Technologies, Buffalo, NY.

“That's it?” she asked.

“I guess so.” He scratched his two-day-old stubble. “Mandy, see if you can get the number for Niagara Technologies.”

She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and asked Siri for the number. A moment later, the automated iPhone assistant responded, “No Niagara Technologies listed in Buffalo, New York.”

He scratched his beard again. “Ask for any listing under electroplating.”

Mandy read the results. “Just one, a company called Iroquois Metals. I’ll text the info to you.”

Skyler looked at his watch — too early to call. “Mandy, what's say we go over to the Blue Heaven for breakfast. When we come back we'll see if anyone in Buffalo can tell us anything about korium.”

She beamed as she trailed him out the door.

“Iroquois Metals. Thank you for holding.”

“Hi, I'm Matt Skyler with OceanQuest in Key West, Florida. Could I speak to the owner?”

“One second please.”

While he waited on hold, he listened to an instrumental version of “The Long and Winding Road”.

“This is Jimmy Nighthawk.”

“Yes, I was holding for the owner.”

“You got him. What can I do for you?”

“I'm Matt Skyler Director of OceanQuest in Key West. We’re a marine salvage company”

“I've heard of you, Mr. Skyler. Among other things, you raised that Soviet sub off Bermuda.”

“It was a group effort.”

“So what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”

“Shoot.”

“What can you tell me about a rare mineral called korium. In compiling a list of commercial users, we found a company called Niagara Technologies in Buffalo. They don’t seem to be around anymore. Have you heard of them? Anything you can tell me about Niagara Technologies would be most appreciated.”

“Not much to tell, they're out of business.”

“Oh, how long ago?”

“My father bought out the company back in the sixties.”

“I see. Well, actually I was interested in the type of work they did. I understand using rare minerals was their specialty.”

“True, and that's what got them into trouble. I hate to cut you off, Mr. Skyler, but I'm running late for a meeting. If you want, you can jot your questions down and email or text them to me.”

“I've got a better idea. I'd like to come up and talk to you personally. How about if I drop by and we chat?”

“Suit yourself. It's a long way to come for nothing.”

“Could we meet tomorrow? I promise I won't take much of your time.”

“Like I said, suit yourself.”

“Great. How about 10:00 a.m.?”

“That's fine.”

“Thanks, see you then.” He ended the call and turned to Amanda. “Looks like I'm going to New York.”

NIGHTHAWK

Skyler arrived in Buffalo late that night and checked into the Airport Hilton. Next morning he rented a car and was at Iroquois Metals by nine fifty-five. After waiting in the reception area for a few minutes, he was shown into Nighthawk's office.

“I'm Jimmy Nighthawk.”

“Matt Skyler.” They shook hands. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

“How about a cup of coffee?” Nighthawk motioned.

“Sounds good.” Skyler pulled out a small note pad from his shirt pocket as he sat down.

Nighthawk buzzed his secretary and ordered two coffees. He was a rugged looking man in his fifties with a proud, square jaw, lean face, black hair, and a hard, athletic build. Dark, piercing eyes seemed to evaluate Skyler. Trophies of fish — trout, bass, pike — all fresh water, all big, covered the walls of his office.

“Quite a collection,” Skyler said as he glanced around.

“My passion. I can't wait until my son takes over the business full time so I can get out of here and spend the rest of my days on the lake.”

Skyler nodded.

Nighthawk cleared his throat. “I must say your call yesterday aroused my curiosity.”

“Really? Why is that?”

The coffee came and Nighthawk waited until the girl left. “Well, it's been years since anyone talked about Niagara Technologies. Now all of a sudden, is seems like everybody wants to know what happened to them.”

“I don't understand.”

“You're the second inquiry in less than a month.”

“That right? Mind me asking who the other was?”

“Two guys. Said they were from a South American Importing company.”

“No kidding?” Skyler said. “You don't happen to remember their names would you?”

Nighthawk rummaged through his desk drawer. “Here is one of their business cards. They came in about a month ago. Llanos and Mendoza, Cartagena Import & Export.” He passed the card to Skyler.

The goons in Mexico, Skyler thought. He handed the card back but jotted down a note to have Mickey Gates do a background check on Cartagena I&E. “So anyway, tell me about Niagara Technologies.”

“Not much to tell. They did a lot of government contract work during the fifties mainly plating microscopic scientific instruments. They pioneered a new technique using the mineral you mentioned.”

“Korium?”

“Yeah. They got a huge government contract and were bringing a shipment in by air cargo but the plane went down in a blizzard somewhere in the North Atlantic. It was never found, and since there was no other source of the stuff, eventually they went out of business. Couldn't fulfill the contracts.”

“Where did it go down?”

“Greenland, I think.” He went to a file cabinet. Sorting through it, he pulled out a folder and returned to his desk. “Yes, Greenland. A two-week search was conducted but no trace of the plane was ever found. The flight originated in London with a stop in Iceland to pick up the ore. Entire shipment was lost.” He took out a cargo manifest and handed it to Skyler.

“How did you get this?”

“We kept all of Niagara's old records.”

The yellowed paper had Arctic Air Cargo printed across the top. As Skyler read, the total weight notation caught his attention — five thousand pounds. “Could I get a photo copy of this?”

“Sure.” Nighthawk buzzed his secretary and asked her to come in. She took the page and left.

“So Iroquois Metals bought Niagara?”

“Right. My dad was running Iroquois at the time and when Niagara folded, he decided to make them an offer for the property and machinery. All he really wanted was the land. He auctioned the hardware and tore down the buildings. Sold the property ten years later for a sizable profit. There's an outlet mall there now.”

“Can you tell me anything more about the nature of the work Niagara was doing for the government?”

“Not really. Like I said, it was mostly scientific research stuff. The few people I knew that worked out there never talked about their jobs. But there is someone who can tell you all about it. Fellow by the name of Harry Penn. He was a government scientist who managed the place.”

“Where can I find Mr. Penn?”

“He's retired now, owns a small hotel near the Falls. Penn and his wife run the place. It’s called the Colonial Inn. You should drop by and talk to him.”

“I'll be sure and do that.” Skyler stood as the secretary came back and handed him the copy of the manifest. “Thanks again for your time, Mr. Nighthawk. If you're ever in Key West, give me a call and we'll go out on the flats hunting bonefish.”

“Count on it,” Nighthawk said, and they shook hands.

Once Skyler left, Nighthawk picked up the Niagara folder to return it to the cabinet. A small piece of paper fell out and he bent to pick it up.

A memo.

Like the manifest, it was yellowed and faded. He didn't recall seeing it before. He read it, returned to his desk, and read it again. Then he looked at his watch. Five hours difference, he thought. He hesitated, then picked up the phone and dialed. There was a slight hiss from the overseas connection. Three rings later a young female voice with a heavy British accent answered, “Gordan Insurance Company, London branch.”

“Hello, I'm calling from New York. Do you possibly have a Mr. Walter Smyth there?”

“Oh, you mean Chief Inspector Smyth. One moment and I'll connect you.”

There was silence and then a voice said, “Smyth, here.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Smyth, I'm sorry to bother you. My name's Jimmy Nighthawk and I own Iroquois Metals in Buffalo, New York. I'm not sure if this applies to you but I recently came across a document in our company archives. It's from a Walter Smyth dated April 6, 1971. It says that if anyone ever inquires about the lost Arctic Air Cargo flight, we should give Walter Smyth at Gordan Insurance a call. Does any of that make sense to you? I mean, have I got the right Walter Smyth?”

There was a long pause and a heavy sigh. Then the voice said, “Yes, you've got the right man. I've waited a long time for this call, Mr. Nighthawk.”