The Marquis' Inheritance: Mac, #3

By Robert Howerter

Third in the series. The Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson could never have guessed their actions in their time would have created problems in the twenty-first century. Jefferson in 1803 wanted to reward the Marquis for his services to the new nation by giving him part of the newly acquired Lousiana Purchase. Congress passed a bill that made it so, but Lafayette declined the inheritance. However,the reward automatically passed to his descendants, putting a twenty-first century United States in jeopardy of paying a possible trillon dollars to satisfy the claim.
Jefferson hid the bill in one of his books which he planned to recover if Lafayette changed his mind. However, it was forgotten, and ultimately ended up in the Library of Congress collection. A doctoral student in the 21st century finds the ancient paper, and decides to steal it, immediately creating chaos among the US and French governments who previously never knew of its existence. Who has it? The terrorist group headed by Apostle, as well as the old nemesis, Dodson, finds creative ways to profit from its find. Can they bankrupt the US?
Frantically, Mac, the Vice President, and his team of CIA and FBI try to recover the document that had been discovered and stolen. It was a race to locate the paper before the nation was faced with financial disaster. Apostle's group and a corrupt part of the French government create a challenge to the team as they move to Paris to attempt the recovery of the document, and to kill their nemesis', Apostle and Dodson. Even Mac's family is in danger as they follow Mac to France. Some members of the team find romance, and this complicates their roles as agents. They are trained to protect each other, but love has a way of distracting their mission. A fatefull turn of events changes the life of Mac and his family, one he never wanted.
Kidnappings, murder, and intrigue make this a suspenseful novel that lives up to the excitement of the first two books in the series. The same characters in the first two novels lend a familiarity, while new ones add spice to the series. Exciting action mixed with soft romance makes this a must read, a novel you can't put down.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Howerter
• Release date: Nov 27, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466179202

Robert Howerter

After being a combat photographer during the Belgium Congo revolution and the Algerian war with France in the US military, Robert Howerter graduated from Kent State University in 1968 with a degree in English. However, he spent almost his entire life working in computer software design and implementation, and in executive management of several large companies. He often spoke to technology leaders by giving speeches in numerous countries, travelling to 45 of them. Upon retirement as a Director, Price Waterhouse World Firm, he decided to put his writing skills to work, penning numerous newspaper articles on gardening. He has written four novels in a series, Grayfield, The Normandy Appointment, The Marquis' Inheritance, and Emily's Mark, as well as his newest, The Crown Project,. Much of what he learned about France was in Normandy where he lived, and in Paris, the city he loves. Currently, he resides with his wife in the Tampa Bay area.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Jefferson’s Secret

Bleary-eyed and exhausted, Joshua made his way up the steps through the great doors of the building, always aware of the importance and significance of what lay inside. It was one of those feelings that smacked of patriotism and the love of history, but also what it meant to his country. Joshua looked the part of a serious student; lanky, dark glasses, somewhat unsure of him, and just starting to learn the ways of the world, even though he was already twenty-eight years old.

Mornin’ Joshua, greeted the guard as he watched the student pass through the metal detector on the other side. You look like you've been run over by a truck, he observed, looking at the wrinkled white shirt, top button open, and a tie that had been hastily put on. I've seen an unmade bed that looked better.

Yeah. It was a book, not a truck. Stayed up till three -- couldn't put it down, Joshua muttered, as he opened his briefcase to have the guard examine the contents.

Inside were just a few items: a course catalog from the University of Virginia, a book on George Washington, and a sandwich for lunch in a plastic bag. The guard gave them a cursory look.

Have a good day, he uttered as Joshua walked down the hall to his office, a room that was more like a large closet. These were always given to summer doctoral students trying to earn some money while providing needed help for the Library of Congress. It was his third year at the university, so he could spend time working on his dissertation and do research outside of the classroom. Joshua almost turned down the job since his field of study was on George Washington, and they needed someone to work in rare book and special collections, specifically the Thomas Jefferson library. Even though it wasn't his first choice, he could still continue his research on the founding father.

He gained knowledge of Jefferson since he was close to Monticello, as he studied in Charlottesville. The proximity to the Jefferson library had added to his knowledge in the last few months.

Joshua looked at his watch. 7:10 AM. Yesterday, his supervisor had instructed him to replace several books from the Jefferson collection with ones from the vault. Visitors would start to arrive at 8:30, so he grabbed a pair of white cotton gloves and walked the stairs to the second floor where the Thomas Jefferson library was in one corner of the room. There were few people in the building, and he was lost in his thoughts as he made his way.

What a shame that so few of his books remain. Fire is such a terrible thing -- destroyed two thirds of the Jefferson volumes on Christmas Eve of 1851. Not much of a Christmas present for the library.

Anxious to get the task done, he now took two steps at a time, even though his headache was getting worse. If he hurried, he could be back in his office in thirty minutes or so, he thought.

After slipping on the cotton gloves, the key was inserted into the locked glass display case. Carefully reaching in, he removed two books, leather bound and old, once belonging to Jefferson. Gingerly, and with utmost care, he set the books on the glass while he relocked the cabinet. With both hands now on the books, he made his way to the vault where most of the Jefferson books were stored. As he walked, he often glanced at the books to assure he had a firm grip on them.

Joshua used his pass key and passcode to enter, now seeing a dimly lit area with shelves of books on both the walls and the cases in the center. With care, he replaced the two books to their original location, and started to search for their replacements. By now, his head felt like it was being punched with a jackhammer. Retrieving a typed paper from his pocket, he reminded himself of the pieces to be located.

Cicero's Tusculum Disputations

Book of letters: 1784 -- 1804

Even though the light was dim in order to preserve the books, he found the first item, while remembering that Jefferson had tried to model his life after Cicero. Setting the book on a near table, he began his search for the second volume. As Joshua slowly paced down one aisle, his eyes spotted a large book, leather bound, and imprinted with the title, Washington's Association with the Marquis de Lafayette. Although he was becoming an expert on Washington's life, he was unaware that this book existed.

Joshua pulled it from the shelf, turning it over in his hands. The leather covering had been dark brown with gold lettering, but age and handling had worn the dye down to the tan natural leather in many places. Most edges of the book were well frayed. Glancing at the book he had set on the table to assure it was still there, his hand slipped, and the book he was holding tumbled down, glancing off a footstool. His heart raced as if he had dropped his own child. Due to the loud noise, he quickly looked to his left and right to see if anyone was in the room. The quiet told him he was alone.

Quickly picking up the tome, he noticed immediately the leather cover, already soft and worn, had acquired a large tear on the front. Now, both his mind and heart raced.

Oh my God. I'm sure to be fired for this -- maybe even go to jail.

Joshua sat down on the step stool while holding the volume on his lap, staring at the new gash. As he pondered the options of what to do, he saw what looked like paper -- a document beneath the cover. Peering through the dim light to the torn leather, handwriting and type appeared. He guessed it was probably early nineteenth century. Now suspecting that he might have found something that had not been discovered earlier, his panic of the damage subsided, but his excitement was ballooning.

Could he pull the document through the tear? No, it was larger than the three inch slice in the leather. Do I dare make the tear larger?

Looking around to see if anyone had arrived in the room, he decided to remove the document. Finding a small cabinet in the vault, Joshua located a small pair of scissors, and without further hesitation, cut the top edge of the book where the leather folded over the cover. With great care, he slowly pulled the paper from its hiding place, thinking about the fact that it might have been Jefferson himself who placed it there long ago.

Joshua looked at his watch. 8:15.

Damn. I've got to get these books in the glass case before the library opens.

With little time left, he stuffed the paper into his pocket, knowing it would have to wait for him to study later. After replacing the damaged book back on the shelf, he gathered the two volumes he came for, and within ten minutes they were in their new space.

Reaching his office, he shut the door and downed two Excedrin before opening the document. It was in good condition with no wear or yellowing. His eyes ran to the top left corner where a date stared him in the face. June 10, 1804. Joshua’s excitement was growing ever larger. Before he could read the text, his office door opened, and an overweight, balding man with glasses entered.

What's that? The supervisor asked, suspiciously.

Oh, it's just a replica copy of the Declaration of Independence that I bought yesterday -- the same as most tourists buy, Joshua blurted as his stomach felt queasy.

I see, responded the supervisor, not quite sure that he believed Joshua, but he let it drop. Could you help Jane today with the cataloging of some new letters we received?

Sure. I'll get right on it, Joshua acknowledged, feeling a tightening in his chest and fear in his stomach.

Jane Fowler was another doctoral candidate who was his assigned partner in the rare book collection, and she was very dedicated to her specialty, the American Revolution and its results. Joshua always thought she was somewhat attractive, but he had to focus on his education. Sex and whatever would have to wait.

Jane, standing five foot eight inches tall, towered over most of her female coworkers, and as such, they considered her the de facto leader. This was true even though all of the doctoral students were of equal standing at the library. Her father, to her dismay, once told her she was cute but wouldn't win any beauty contests. As a result, she decided early in her studies that she would stand out above her female friends through education. Auburn hair, green eyes, and always smartly dressed, Jane made herself appear the part of the professor that she aspired.

Today, Joshua didn't have his heart in his work, and tended to allow Jane to take the lead and make any decisions on questions regarding the cataloging of the letters. The day was long.

Glancing at his watch, it read 6:10 PM. He felt that he should wait for his supervisor to leave first. With his mind on the document, he looked at his watch at least every half hour during the day. It was an agonizing wait.

Jane always kept a good eye on the supervisor, and a friend alerted her when he left, always about 6 PM. As such, her phone rang at 6:05 and she listened and thanked the caller.

Let's call it a day, Josh. I've got things to do tonight.

Okay. See you tomorrow, he murmured, recognizing that the sound of his voice seemed relieved.

He hurried back to his office for his briefcase, checking the contents. His hand slipped into his pocket touching the unread document. Pulling it out, he inserted it in the back of his book on Washington, since it was almost the size of the Jefferson book. It was the best he could do. If stored loosely in the briefcase, it would surely be found. Joshua still was concerned that with the exit security, the document could be discovered, but he had little choice if he wanted to get out of the building tonight.

Approaching the security desk, he saw the same guard as was there in the morning.

Hey, Mr. Scott. Why are you still here? It's been eleven hours since I came in, blurted a surprised Joshua.

Double shift, the guard responded, looking as if irritated at being reminded.

Sorry about that, Joshua added, not really meaning it. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Let me get the hell out of here.

Please open the bag, instructed the guard, as he had done thousands of times before, not ever expecting to see a stolen item from the library.

Take a look. It's what I came in with this morning.

Yeah, looks like it, except that the sandwich is missing, the guard joked as he picked up the book on Washington and turned it over.

Joshua's stomach turned, and he felt dryness in his mouth.

What's this? The guard inquired, seeing a corner of the document protruding from the book pages.

Joshua hesitated, but admitted that it was a tourist copy of the Declaration, thinking of what he had told his supervisor. The guard gently pulled it from the book, and opened it, mouth agape as he saw the date at the top of the page.

Jesus in heaven, this is a real document -- a treasure, the surprised guard almost yelled in the entrance chamber. He looked at the student with piercing eyes, not believing that he could be a thief.

Joshua heard the echo of the words against the walls, and before he could think, or before the guard could react, he snatched the paper from the man's hands, and ran through the exit and into the street. An alarm went off almost immediately, but he kept on running down Independence Avenue past the Capitol until he was well clear of the Jefferson building. After he was aware of people noticing him, he slowed to a fast walk. Reaching the Botanic Garden, he heard sirens in the background and now knew that it wasn't an ambulance, but police cars looking for him.

Oh my God. What have I done? I can't go home -- I can't go back to work. My doctorate -- my life -- finished. Think, Joshua, think. Why did you run, and you don't even know what the document is. Dumb shit. Only twenty-eight years old and finished. Dumb shit.

Hearing the pulsating sounds of the alarm approaching, Joshua ducked into a courtyard of an office building, making sure that it felt secure. As the siren sounded fainter, he decided to find a place where he could think and maybe relax. Since it was still light, he knew that out of sight was the best he could do for now. Looking around, he realized that the closest metro was Federal Center on D Street. Remembering Jane lived in Bethesda, Joshua decided to take the metro to Bethesda station, and go from there. It was out of the city, even out of the county, far away from the library.

Boarding the train, he still couldn't take the document out of his pocket. It was rush hour. Unfortunately, it would have to wait a little longer. Looking at the strangers he was facing, Joshua had the feeling that every one of them knew what he did, as evidenced by the sour look on their faces and their piercing eyes as they glanced at him. They were just tired and bored of the daily drudgery of the train ride to their home, but Joshua thought everything that moved was a possible threat.

The doors opened, he pushed through the opening, and then ran out the exit toward the streets beyond. Joshua didn't know how long he walked, but it was now dark. A series of blinking lights caught his eye and he saw the sign, Benny's Bar and Grill. Hunger was now his enemy, and he felt his stomach starting to revolt. It was time to stop.

Stepping into the bar, dimly lit but modern and clean, he moved to the back to sit at a corner table where the surrounding spaces were vacant. The room was fairly dark in itself, but each table had a small lamp over the center which provided ambience and some feeling of privacy. Noticing some used newspapers at the next table; he grabbed a few, and sat back down. He now felt safe, even if it was a false perception.

Slowly, he pulled the document from his pocket and laid it over the newspaper, so that if someone were near, he could lift it as if reading the local news. As tired as he was, he forgot about his aches, and tried to focus his eyes on the paper in front of him.

To repeal the expansion of payments to Congress as to excessive travel expenses.

Seems like a normal business bill, one that is even common today, he thought. But why was it hidden in Jefferson's book? Joshua quickly scanned the words that made up the bill, until some of them near the end caught his eye.

To make future commitments to the Marquis de Lafayette for his service to this nation. Be it enacted by the Senate and the House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled.

Let it be known that ten percent of the newly acquired Louisiana Purchase territory be given to the Marquis de Lafayette for his unselfish service to the new United States. This land, the section to be determined at a later date, shall be deeded to the Marquis, and shall be pertinent to all of his descendants. The Marquis may not sell this land to anyone excepting citizens of the United States. It shall be given in perpetuity as long as descendants still exist.

Joshua, still not comprehending the immensity of his find, lifted his head, looked around, and called for the waiter to order something, anything, to make the ache in his stomach subside. He glanced back at the paper and noticed Jefferson’s signature at the bottom of the document.

No one has ever seen this -- not since Jefferson. It's unbelievable. I'm so tired. Where is it safe to sleep? I don't know.

Chapter 2

The White House, 1804

President Thomas Jefferson, now in office for three years after a contentious election, was in the middle of some interesting events. Earlier election laws were quite different than they are today. As an example, when a ticket ran together as president and vice president, the one with the most votes would be president, the other, vice president. In 1801, Jefferson and Burr tied in the new electoral system, causing the House of Representatives to select the president. After that time, Burr never had Jefferson's trust, and was barred from most party activities. Many of Jefferson's political dealings were accomplished through the Speaker of the House, Nathaniel Macon, who held many of the same views as the president.

April 17, 1804. The sound of a creaking door caused Jefferson to turn his head and look in that direction. A smile came over his face as Nathaniel Macon came into the room.

Good morning Mr. Macon. It's been some time since I've seen you, especially with all these exciting events happening around us, offered the president.

Yes, it's good to see you again, Sir.

Did you get my letter, and do you understand my intent in writing it?

As Macon sat down in front of the president, he hesitated with his answer. Yes, Sir, but I don't agree with your proposition. If you will, Mr. President, please describe in more detail what you have in mind.

Jefferson rubbed his chin as if in deep thought, and sat back in his chair before responding. He knew he was going to have to use his law-logic if he were to convince this man of his plan. Macon was a very negative congressman, voting down more legislation than he approved, even though he was Speaker of the House.

Do you not agree that the Marquis de Lafayette was one of the more responsible individuals in obtaining our freedom from England?

He certainly was not the only one. However, he did play a role, acknowledged the Speaker.

Do you not agree, Sir, that he was not properly paid for his service to our country? You know he was a mercenary, and agreed to serve in our military for no wages? outlined Jefferson," even though he already knew what Macon's response would be.

Mr. President, you certainly know that he was paid in the years after we declared our independence, and Washington personally sent the money to him, all $24,424. I believe it was in 1791, or was it 1792?

1792, Nathaniel. Even with that, I'm not proposing that we give him any additional funds. It's obviously true that our coffers are not in as good a condition as we would like, especially after paying France for Louisiana. However, there are other forms of payment that do not require money.

I'm open to listening, declared Macon.

As Jefferson rose from his chair, the squeak of wood against wood was heard, and he walked slowly to the side table in the room, a large elongated mahogany piece where he kept several bottles of wine, a bottle of Madeira, and a decanter of whiskey distilled at Monticello.

Nathaniel. May I get you a glass of Madeira? It's a very nicely aged one from Portugal.

Only if you will share one with me, Mr. President, replied Macon.

Jefferson poured two large glasses of the ruby colored liquid, and carried them back to his desk, handing one to his guest.

Here's to our proposal, Nathaniel, the president said, as he lifted his glass.

Sir, I will lift my glass to you, but as to any proposal, you really haven't outlined one yet.

You're right, but I know you will agree when you hear of the details.

The president sat back down in his chair, slowly sipped the wine, and considered what he would say to Macon.

Nathaniel. We've been friends for a few years, and I would like you to help me with this. Please hear me out before you make up your mind.

Jefferson waited for a response, but after not hearing one, he continued.

As you know, I've always had a fondness for France, especially the food and wine, but also their people, and Lafayette. While I was in France, I communicated often to the Marquis regarding events leading up to their revolution, since we shared some common ideas. Since becoming president, one of our more joyous occasions was the successful negotiation with France in obtaining Louisiana. I think it will turn out to be our most successful acquisition for this country.

Mr. President, I agree with you. I was your best supporter. However, you know I urged you in the past to make the purchase of Florida, which I think would have been more important.

One thing at a time, Nathaniel. Florida will happen in time, but that's for another day. In any case, I would like to bequeath a portion of Louisiana to the marquis for his viable service to this illustrious country.

What, you're mad. We just acquired it, and you want to give it away? complained Macon, getting exasperated even as the wine was making him feel mellow.

Jefferson would often ply his guests with alcohol when he was trying to obtain their support.

Let me finish my proposal, Nathaniel, and you will see what I have in mind. Jefferson continued.

I would like for you to draft a bill that awards the Marquis with ten percent of the Louisiana Purchase territory. We know approximately how large it is, but we don't know what type of land is there, the general climate, the animals or even the native Indians. That is why Lewis and Clark will soon depart -- I think in about a month -- to explore our new acquisition. Since we don't know what type of land is there, at the least until they return, I am proposing that the section we provide him would be determined at a later date. For obvious reasons, I would prefer that a bill of this type not be publicized to the public, outlined the president.

I don't like it. It's fraught with all kinds of problems. What if he decides to sell it back to the French? We can't have that, Macon protested.

Let me propose this, Nathanael. Place in the bill that it cannot be sold to anyone except American citizens, but it could be passed on in perpetuity to all of his descendants. That way, it will be owned by Americans, and the deed will stay here.

Mr. President, with all due respect, I don't like it.

Nathaniel, if you will support me on this and help me get this passed, I promise to do two things. First, I will finally support you in the bill we have discussed -- you know the one -- the bill you are working on, even though I don't agree with it. Second, I will attempt to keep the bill secret, also with your help, and promise not to notify Lafayette for at least five years. Will you agree to that?

Macon got to his feet and walked over to the tall window in Jefferson's office. The leaves on the trees were just starting to come out after a long cold winter, and the change was welcomed by everyone. Maybe it was a symbol of transition, even in politics, Macon thought.

Mr. President, let me see what I can do.

Thank you, Nathaniel.

Jefferson watched Macon set his glass down on the side table, and exit through the squeaky door.

Several months later, Jefferson heard from Congress that a bill had been passed by both chambers regarding excessive travel expenses. He had little interest in the report until he read that an addendum had been attached covering the Lafayette issue. Within a few days, the final bill arrived in the White House, and Jefferson immediately signed it. A number of months later, while packing his things to return for a visit to Monticello, he remembered the Lafayette bill. Placing it in his travel case with some books, he carried it to his Virginia home.

Several weeks later, after he had taken care of financial concerns, and toured the plantation, he turned his attention to reviewing government correspondence. Sitting in his small library toward the front of the house, he poured a glass of wine from a bottle of French Bordeaux which he had earlier retrieved from his large wine cellar beneath the residence. Reaching into his case, he retrieved the Lafayette bill.

How to best store it for five years without it being discovered? That is the question. The Capitol is out of the question -- certainly unsafe. Certain interests would love to discover the document and discredit me and my party. The only safe place is here -- Monticello. Done. It shall remain here, but where?

Jefferson took another sip of his wine, all the while staring at his library, a wall of books that he collected. Rising from his chair, still holding the glass, he slowly walked toward the many rows of volumes standing like soldiers, ready to be utilized, all of them covered in leather, and most of them with titles in gold lettering.

I cannot live without books.

As his eyes glanced across the volumes, they came to settle on one of them, ‘Washington's Association with the Marquis de Lafayette’. Pulling the book from the shelf, he shuffled through the pages, and remembered reading it several times. It had been published a few years ago, and he recalled purchasing it in Washington and bringing it back to Monticello. The leather was brown and smooth, and the lettering was bright gold leaf.

Why not place it in this volume? How appropriate -- no, it could easily be found.

Jefferson examined the book, pulling at the leather cover. Turning to the inside, he saw that the leather was loose on the long edge of the book. He had found the solution.

The president retrieved a knife from his cabinet and carefully lifted the loose leather cover, prying it up with the knife even further. After looking at the bill one last time, he re-folded it, and inserted it under the leather of the cover.

Tomorrow I will reseal it so the document is hidden.

Placing it back on the shelf, he thought about its future.

Someday, Lafayette and his ancestors will be greatly rewarded for his service, a present from a grateful nation.

With all of Jefferson's greatness and superior intelligence, little did he know.

Chapter 3

In Hiding

Joshua opened his eyes and immediately saw the clouds in the sky. Trying to sit up, pain thumped against his forehead, and he fell back. With a second attempt to rise, he looked around and realized he was sitting in a grassy place, maybe a park. Feeling somewhat confused, he glanced at his watch. 9:25 AM. His stomach started to tighten as he started to remember the events of yesterday.

Is this real or just a nightmare?

He remembered going to the bar, but not leaving it. He remembered going to see Jane, but never arriving. He now remembered the document -- --.

Oh my God, Jefferson's paper.

Slipping his hand into his pocket, he felt the document, and quickly pulled it out. As Joshua opened it, he looked around, but no one was within sight. Seeing the type and Jefferson’s signature again, his panic resurfaced from last evening.

The student opened his cell phone, knowing that everyone was at work at the library, including Jane. Pulling up her number, he made the call and waited for her to answer.

Jane, this is Joshua.

Where the hell are you? This place is crazy this morning with FBI everywhere. They came to my house last night asking about you and your whereabouts.

What did you tell them?

What do you mean, ‘what did I tell them’? I have no idea where you are, answered Jane, her voice indicating irritation.

I'm not sure either, to be honest. I just woke up, and all I can see is grass and some trees, although I think I'm in Bethesda -- I was on my way to see you, but never made it.

It's a good thing, or you would probably be awakening in jail. My God, Joshua. Rumor is that you stole some type of document, and then ran from the building. Work has stopped here and all of us have been assigned to take inventory of the single documents and letters to determine which one is missing. Are you crazy?

Listen, Jane. I need your help -- can't talk to you about the document over the phone. Can we meet someplace after your work is done today?

So you did take a document? retorted Jane, her voice changing as her anger grew.

Joshua paused, feeling as if he were a small child being scolded, and guilty as charged.

Yes. I really, really need your help, he pleaded, his voice trailing off at the end.

He listened to the dead silence, as Jane did not speak. After a number of seconds, he was about to offer his plea again when he heard her voice.

You know, I could be in deep trouble for helping you, don't you? All right. There’s a sandwich shop on Montgomery Lane, just off East Lane. Meet me there at seven tonight.

Oh, thanks Jane. I really appreciate it, said Joshua, as he heard her end the call.

Still holding his cell, he thought of his mentor, Dr. Rutkins at the University. Realizing that he had few people to turn to in a crisis, he placed the call to the one person he thought he could trust. Dr. Samuel Rutkins, head of the history department at the University of Virginia, had been Joshua’s adviser throughout his time there. He was a Jefferson scholar, and had written several books on the third President.

Dr. Rutkin’s office, how may I help you?

Angie, this is Joshua. Is the professor in?

Yes, I think he was expecting that you would contact him. Hold on.