Body in the Woods, page 1
Copyright @2023 by Behcet Kaya
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REV. DATE: 01/31/2023
ALSO BY BEHCET KAYA
NOVELS
Voice of Conscience
Road to Siran
Murder on the Naval Base
Treacherous Estate (A Jack Ludefance Novel)
BODY IN THE WOODS
By
Behcet Kaya
A Jack Ludefance Novel
Copyright@2019 Behcet Kaya
All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, and photographic including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission.
Cover design by MiblArt
To my wife, Nancy
Edited
By
Lisa J. Jackson
“Nothing so completely baffles one
who is full of trick and duplicity himself,
than straightforward and simple integrity in another.”
Charles Caleb Colton
CHAPTER 1
Friday, June 22, 2018
Cathy Shumway saddled her horse Lightning and headed out for her daily morning ride on one of the many trails meandering through Wild Oaks Mountain Park. At 7:08 am it was still foggy. But fog in the morning was not at all unusual for this part of the Southern California coast and was often referred to as ‘June Gloom.’ She knew it would clear later. It always did.
She encouraged Lightning into a gallop across the open field and then brought the Arabian back into a trot when they started up the narrow trail chosen for today’s ride. She relaxed her hands. Lightning knew the way.
As they approached a small waterfall, the trail made a sharp right and climbed at a forty-five-degree angle with thick scrub oaks on both sides. She rode another half mile up the steep elevation before the trail turned sharp left and leveled off.
Turning to her left, she enjoyed the bird’s eye view down into the valley and the city of Wild Oaks far below. Further on where the trail split, she took the path continuing up the mountain and came to the spot where a stone fireplace stood, the only remains of an old cabin.
Past the ruins the trail split again. Three trails diverged. One was an overgrown path just wide enough for four-wheel drive vehicles to traverse and it continued upwards toward the summit as did a second path just wide enough for hikers. The third path became a dirt road curving back down into another valley.
She chose the narrow hiking path. She enjoyed this trail and had used it frequently in the past two years. For reasons unknown to her it was one of the least-used trails. Only once had she met up with anyone else; a hiker who hadn’t even acknowledged her passing. She hadn’t been on this path in the last few weeks and was looking forward to reaching the summit.
A hundred yards further, at the point where the overgrown vehicle path connected again with the hiking path, her horse stopped in his tracks. He whinnied and began to stomp his right front foot frantically. Cathy tried to urge him on with the gentle pressure of her legs.
Instead of obeying her command, Lightning reared up and nearly knocked her off. Her heart began to race as she managed to regain her balance; all the while trying to calm her horse as well as herself.
“Lightning! Whoa, boy. What’s wrong?”
She patted the black stallion’s neck murmuring soothingly, but he continued to shake his head and whinny, refusing to go any further. She knew horses were much like humans and feared the unknown. But the two of them had traveled this trail many times. Something was very wrong. There was something here that Lightning had either seen or heard that she had not.
Cathy knew without a doubt that her horse was having a panic attack, just as humans have. She could hear his heart racing, his accelerated breathing, and she could feel his body shaking under her. Like frightened people, frightened horses have two choices; either take flight or fight. Lightning continued his fight, pawing the ground with first his right foot, then his left.
Dismounting, she began to rub his face, and continued to talk softly into his ear.
“What’s wrong boy? Hmmh? What’s here that has you so frightened?”
To her dismay, nothing she did seemed to help. She knew her horse. She’d trained him from a colt. She knew everything about him and he always responded to her wishes, sometimes even anticipating her next command.
Horse and rider as one.
Whereas an untrained horse would tune out the rider, especially an inexperienced one, and would spook at the smallest stimuli such as a bird taking flight out of a bush, or stray dog barking, Lightning was the opposite.
“It’s okay, Lightning. Come on, boy. Let’s go back this way.”
Untying the scarf from around her neck, she managed to cover his eyes. Turning the big horse around, she walked him a hundred yards away from where he had halted. The further they walked back, the calmer he became, to the point that she thought it was safe to tie his reins to one of the sturdy oak trees. She rubbed his face and front legs, making sure he was settled enough that she felt comfortable to leave him.
Cathy walked back to where Lightning had panicked and then she continued on the dirt path until an awful smell hit her nose. She stopped and looked around, but saw nothing. She walked slowly on around a bend. That’s when she saw a sea of flies behind a thick wooded area. She froze, not sure if she wanted to investigate.
She knew something had died. Perhaps a mountain lion? Or a deer?
Pulling a small hand towel out of her back jeans pocket, she covered her nose and walked off the path towards the flies.
Her high-pitched scream escaped her lips before she could think.
There, lying in the tall grass between two large oak trees, was a body.
A dead body in the woods.
A dead human body.
She quickly took in the length of the dead man, from the expensive loafers to the white silk shirt, to the now blackened face and hands, obviously destroyed by fire. Hundreds of flies swarmed over what was left of his face and his hands, and flew in and out of his pants legs.
Unable to move she stared, her breath coming faster and faster. Then she turned and ran. Ran from the putrid smell and ran from the flies.
When she was far enough away from the smell she pulled out her cell phone, hoping she could get a signal.
“911. What is your emergency?”
Cathy could barely get the words out.
“Dead body.”
“You’ll have to speak up. I can’t hear you.”
“There’s a dead body in the woods!”
“Where are you located?”
“I’m on one of the trails off Summit Road in Wild Oaks Mountain Park. I’m near the summit.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“No I can’t!! Just get someone here!”
CHAPTER 2
Thirty-six hours earlier
He placed the industrial metal box containing his display device in the back of his black Mercedes SUV and thought about how proud he was of being a German. Oh, yes. Only Germans have the ingenuity to develop such a product. His current partner was a stupid man who insisted on playing by the rules.
He knew now he hadn’t actually needed his old partner’s theory of deviating the radar’s rays into space by using Kirlian photography, resulting in virtually nothing being seen on the radar screen.
After stealing the theory and prototype, he had taken it in a completely different direction. The principle behind his invisibility technology was unique. When the composite material he’d developed was combined in a liquefied form and applied to the fuselage of a fighter jet it would make the jet completely disappear off radar.
He’d perfected what had originally been an experiment by Nazi scientists on a military U-boat during WWII. During the trials, two technicians had actually disappeared and the scientists who’d conducted the experiment were murdered during a raid in 1945.
It had been six months since he’d sent all the employees
Once the elements were combined in the correct ratio that had taken him several years to work out and perfect, he had a pliable composite material that he molded into the shape of a rod. He then placed the rod in a container of dry ice to solidify.
After the rod hardened, he positioned it in the chuck of a small lathe and turned the lathe on, machining it so it was round and straight. He center-drilled the ends of the rod and wired it with fiber optic in such a way that one end of the wiring could be connected to a special power source for his demonstration.
The next step was to utilize the flat fixture he’d recently made from 60/63 aluminum. He placed the rod in the center of the fixture, ensuring that the rod was carefully supported by the ends with turning live centers.
The last part of his trial was to bring the ambient temperature of the rod down to the equivalent air temperature at 50,000 feet above sea level using more dry ice. Next, he plugged his device into the special power source and slowly increased the current to the point where the rod disappeared on the bench.
He then slowly turned the knob backward to decrease the voltage until the coils and the rod appeared again.
Perfection.
After setting up a tripod and video camera, he repeated his trial one more time and videotaped the entire process. The video would be presented to foreign countries he was in the process of setting up appointments with. The completed display device would be used as a demonstration to his stateside clients as to how the rod disappeared when an electric current passed through it.
He went over his handwritten notes and studied the percentage of composites until they were indelibly fixed in his brain, then shredded them. He’d delete the notes on his office computer later. He knew of an atomic absorption spectrometer machine being produced by a company in Connecticut and also knew that company would love to get their hands on his invention. With a spectrometer they could evaluate the composite materials he’d used. They could evaluate ‘bis die Kühe nach Hause kommen,’ till the cows came home as the stupid Americans were fond of saying, but they’d never figure it out.
Only he knew the formula and the percentages of all the composites.
Indeed, the last six months had been very busy. His company had been granted the patent for the original prototype with the caveat that any modifications would be included in the original patent. Overseas, he’d presented his invention to the Turks, the Israelis, and the Germans. Congress be damned. Here in the States, he’d made presentations to the Iranians and, just now, to the last company on his list. As soon as they responded with their offer, he was ready to accept the highest bid.
As he started his Mercedes and pulled onto the highway, he reviewed the afternoon’s events.
*****
He’d left his office after lunch with no word to either his secretary or his business partner as to where he was going, or with whom he was meeting. After several miles on Highway 23, he found the exit he was looking for, turned right onto a winding road, and drove for another 20 minutes.
He wondered if he’d made a mistake with the directions; there was absolutely nothing out here. Just as he was about to turn around, he spotted a high fence and security gate, but no sign as to what was contained behind.
Approaching slowly, he handed his ID to the female guard who checked it carefully, then turned and picked up a phone.
“Mr. Katz, your 2 pm is on his way, sir. Yes, sir.”
Turning back to face him, she gave directions to the main building where the executive offices were located. He drove another mile before coming to a large building with a sign, KATZ/MARIN INC. Their one and only client was the Department of Defense and the company had been manufacturing the necessary ammunition for stealth bombers for years.
He’d read that the facilities were spread over more than 300 acres of secluded property and included numerous labs, some built into caves, with the purpose of hiding any sounds of exploding munitions from the surrounding communities. The two owners were both Romanian Jews who had immigrated in the ’60s to form the company. They’d kept a close connection with the Israeli government and also had a satellite office in Israel. The perfect company to present his project to.
At reception he simply stated, “I am here to see J.P. Katz and D.R. Marin.”
Ushered into a stark, utilitarian conference room he was greeted by Katz and Marin and introduced to their accountant Morris, and two other men who were company engineers. Katz sat at one end of the mile-long table, Marin at the other. He took a seat opposite Morris and the other two men.
He knew the five men would be prepared for the meeting, including researching him just as he’d researched their company. They had to know he was a man who had produced a plethora of valid ideas, and that he’d never been wrong in the projects he’d taken on. He’d produced profit wherever he went. His successes had brought offers from competing companies and each offer that came was bigger and more challenging than the last. He’d finally found a partner with money and they’d started their company, but as of yet hadn’t produced any product to sell. This would be their one and only product. It was all they needed.
From his briefcase he produced copies of his proposal. Passing the papers to each man, he gave them time to read over the details, his resume, and credentials, and look at a few pictures. From the metal box he’d wheeled in he took out his display device, a container of dry ice, and the special power source.
All five men tried to hide their curiosity. But it was evident he’d piqued their interest.
“Let’s get down to business. What exactly do you want from us?”
“An opportunity, Mr. Katz. I simply want an opportunity. Why don’t I give you a demonstration, then we can discuss details?”
“By all means. Let’s see what you have.”
As he’d done in the company machine shop months before, he set up the device, slowly turned down the ambient temperature of the rod with dry ice, and plugged his device into the special power source. He increased the current to a point where the rod disappeared, then slowly turned the knob backward to decrease the voltage until the rod appeared again.
The looks on the faces of the men seated around the table said it all. It was all they could do to keep their mouths from hanging open.
“I have no inclination to waste anyone’s time. As you can clearly see, I have a product that’s one of a kind and I believe it’s Zeit für einen Mord, excuse me, as you say in English, ‘time to make a killing.’”
“Just so we’re clear, explain to us why Uncle Sam would be interested in your product?”
“Very simple. The actual product will be produced in a liquefied form and when applied to the fuselage of an aircraft it absorbs the radar rays and bends them. Therefore, it doesn’t return the rays back to wherever they are being emitted from. Do you follow what I’m saying? The aircraft becomes completely invisible. You can’t see it on the radar screen. You can’t see it with satellite. The F-35 unloads its warheads and is gone. Whoever possesses this product will have unbeatable wars. For me, let Uncle Sam and its allies worry about policing the world. I want the profit it brings.”
“But why do you want an opportunity from us? Why not utilize your current company?”
“Mr. Katz, if I did go public with proper media coverage, my discovery could rake in billions overnight. And if my company went public, we would have to continually fight to keep majority shares. I want this to be done with a trustworthy company.”
He sat back, making everyone wait expectantly for him to continue.
“Mr. Katz, you know as well as I, to do business with Uncle Sam takes a lot of bureaucratic muscle. Your company is already doing business with the DOD. Compared to your competitors, and even my own company, your company has those advantages. Besides, you have a close business relationship with the Israelis.”
Mr. Morris smirked and made little effort to hide his disdain. “Bigger risks bring bigger profits. So you want us to be part of this to protect you from other vultures. What makes you think we would be interested in your product? Your company has yet to produce any chewable profit.”
