Page 43 of Investigation of a Quest

“Probably fifteen or so years ago.”

“Where did he go?”

“You know…” the widow paused, dashing the detectives’ hopes. “I have no idea. He never told me.”

“Hey!” Griffin called through his open door, and Bel hesitated in the opening. “I’ve got something for you.” He beckoned her inside, and she gestured for Olivia to follow her. They’d only just returned from the trip to the Zoroaster’s. They stopped at the Diggs home on the way back to the station, where they’d notified the family that they were Oscar’s second. It had been a long day, and neither detective had the energy for any more new information, but it seemed Griffin had other plans.

“I pulled the travel records for Jack Samuel, Frank Calon, and Oscar Zoroaster, and twenty years ago, all three of them visited Mexico at the same time,” the sheriff said.

“Did they travel together?” Bel leaned forward as if it might pull the answer from him faster. She was suddenly no longer tired.

“No,” he said. “They flew in from different cities on different airlines at different times. Nothing else about their lives intersects. Just that they all simultaneously traveled to Mexico.”

“So, is this it?” Bel asked, pushing the evidence bag with Oscar’s tiny piece of yellow brick across the desk. “Is that where they all got this?”

“Probably,” Griffin said. “The wives and the teaching aide confirmed they encountered this stone on a trip years ago. Unfortunately, there’s no record of them after they left the airport. Their trails ran cold until they returned home, again on separate flights to different cities. We have no idea whether they knew each other beforehand or met on this trip. Maybe they never crossed paths and just found that yellow brick on their own, but this seems to be their connection. The only problem is that Mexico is a large country, and I’ve been researching it in relation to yellow stones or ruins. I’ve found nothing, so we might never know what happened to those men on that trip.”

“Hey.” Olivia grabbed Bel’s arm and pulled her toward the conference room before Bel could even remove her coat. “I have a Professor Emerald Ciudad on video chat from Mexico.”

“This early?” Bel checked the time on her phone. She’d only just arrived at the station, and Mexico was a few hours behind the East Coast.

“I was surprised, but he’s awake since he’s traveling to an event. He can only talk to us now,” Olivia explained. “Jack Samuel taught history and studied the occult, so I wondered if he had any contacts who focused on similar studies. I called Ozland. They had no information for me, but they connected me with a professor in California who specializes in Mexican history. I emailed her, and she replied last night. She couldn’t help with the yellow bricks, but she sent me Professor Ciudad’s contact. He’s supposedly the leading authority on the subject, so I emailed him. He responded first thing this morning, saying he was available for a video call, but like, right now.”

“Yeah, okay. Good thinking.” Bel followed her partner into the conference room, where a suit-clad gentleman in his fifties waited for them on Olivia’s laptop screen. “Professor Ciudad, I’m Detective Isobel Emerson. Thanks for taking the time to call us.”

“My pleasure,” the man said in accented English. “How can I help you?”

“We’re working a homicide investigation where three of our victims were in Mexico twenty years ago,” she began. “They all had pieces or photos of this yellow brick, and their friends and family claimed they found these on their trip to your country.” Bel pulled out her phone and showed the man a photo of the stone Jack Samuel kept on his mantel. “This and their trip are their only connection, so we’re trying to decipher the stone’s significance. Did something happen to these men that led to their deaths? Was there a fourth man on the trip who’s killing them? If we can trace where this brick came from, maybe we can figure out why they were killed.”

“Can you email me the photos?” the professor asked. “It’s hard to see clearly through the screen.”

“Of course.” Olivia pulled up her account and sent the attachments.

“And you’re sure they got these stones in Mexico?” he asked.

“According to their friends, family, and flight records, yes,” Bel answered. “Is it possible these pieces belong to a temple or ruins? Or maybe a tourist trap?”

“I’ve never seen anything with yellow bricks,” Ciudad said. “There are many jungles in our country, so it’s impossible for one historian to know every collapsed building or ruin hidden below the trees, but I can confidently say that I’ve seen nothing that looks even remotely similar to what you just sent me. Maybe they stole those from a hotel or restaurant. Or is it possible that your victims left Mexico and found this in another country?”

“Both are possible,” Bel said. “We only have records of their flights in and out of Mexico. What they did during their trip is a mystery to us, so perhaps they crossed the border without documentation.”

“So this might not even be Mexican,” Ciudad said. “Or those stones belong to ruins so deep in the jungle they’ve never been documented. Maybe the men found something in the mud or stole it from someone’s house. I’m sorry, Detective. I wish I could be of more help, but I am at a loss.”

“Well, thank you for taking the time to call us,” Bel said, her stomach sinking as if she’d swallowed those yellow stones. “We appreciate it.”

“Of course. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,” Olivia said. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Email me if you have any more questions.” The man said his goodbyes and hung up, leaving the detectives even more clueless than before. If the leading history expert had never seen this, then what on earth were they dealing with?

“So, what do you think?” Olivia asked? “Did they leave the country and find this who knows where? Are these just random, worthless stones they happened upon, or are these yellow bricks something that was never meant to be found?”

“If witches are using the organs to fuel their war magic, I can almost guarantee you these men found something that was supposed to stay hidden.” Bel pulled out her phone and made their second video call that morning. “Good thing I know someone who’s an expert at staying hidden… hey, do you have a minute?”

“For you, Detective, I have two,” Eamon said.

“Whoa, woah, keep it PG.” Olivia shoved her head into the video’s frame, and Eamon winked at her.