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Sibley's Secret

Frank Perry


Sibley’s Secret

  By

  Frank Perry, author

  Hampton Falls, New Hampshire

  [email protected]

  Synopsis

  Few historical facts remain about the mysterious disappearance of the entire Russian treasury near the end of the October Revolution in 1920. The fall of the Czar and slaughter of his family included the destruction of almost all government records by the Soviets. Countless stories have speculated about “Kolchak’s Gold,” which disappeared after the Supreme Russian Commander was captured by Lenin’s troops while trying to escape with the incomprehensible wealth on the Trans-Siberian Railway. The train was under protection of the last American Army Unit evacuating Europe after WWI with orders to protect the rail line, but not to intervene in protecting Russian military personnel. The US Army Colonel in charge gave up the Admiral and the rest of his troops to the Reds for execution, saving the train from destruction en route to the Army departure point at Vladivostok. Private treasure seekers and government funded projects over the years following have failed to locate any trace of the missing gold. For the remainder of the twentieth century until today, the train-car loads of gold remain lost. A post-war family farm in rural Michigan, built on the hopes and dreams of a young couple deeply in love, may hold the key to finding it. But, tragedy has followed the gold throughout the century since its disappearance and continues to this day.

  Copyright © 2016 by Frank Perry

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to: [email protected].

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  Acknowledgements

  I would like to express my gratitude to the many people who saw me through this book; to all those who provided support, talked things over, read, critiqued, offered comments, and assisted in the editing, proofreading and design. I would like to thank Beverly Heinle for patiently proofing, editing and suggesting improvements that have been invaluable. Above all I want to thank my wife, Janet, who supported me throughout this and edited the first drafts.

  I also would like to thank Rick Cesario for laboring through the earliest draft, and making invaluable suggestions. Special thanks to my son, Brendan Perry who developed the cover art.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, world organizations, government agencies, regulations, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author professes no medical training related to the subject matter.

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  Other books by Frank:

  Recall to Arms

  The Cobra Identity

  Reign of Terror

  Letters From the Grave

  Kingfish

  Sibley’s Secret

  The Dolos Conspiracy

  Michigan

  It was over ninety degrees in the hot July sunshine with humidity to match as Carmen Joyce exited the small commuter jet on the tarmac at Jackson County Airport. She’d forgotten how oppressive the summers were in Michigan. Fortunately, the late morning sky was clear, with only the beginning of summer storm clouds on the horizon. She hadn’t been back to her home state in six years, after leaving Detroit’s tough police department. Then, with a delinquent thirteen-year-old son on the verge of more serious criminal behavior, she had packed up and moved to New England. It had been an impulsive move, but many factors in her life converged, leading to the decision: a broken marriage, a troubled son, no family support and a career filled with biases against women. She had had no friends in the east and no idea what she would do next: all she expected was to have a better life away from Detroit with a chance to raise Chad to healthy adulthood. She was a risk-taker and didn’t fret much about the future. After arriving in Boston, driving a twenty-year-old Oldsmobile with over 150,000 miles, no job, and less than three thousand dollars in her checking account, employment was critical. Only she wasn’t going to work in a big city again, even if Boston was safer than Detroit.

  Chad stumbled down the skinny ladder behind her, struggling to carry his sport bag and his mother’s roll-aboard suitcase. He had insisted on carrying everything aboard rather than checking luggage, so now he was paying the price. She smiled to herself as she waited at the bottom. He’d turned completely around after the move to the east and emerged as the strong-willed, smart, good-natured young man she’d seen veiled behind a tough gang exterior some years before. In Detroit, she’d seen too many young men, depressed, without work, constantly in trouble on the streets, coursing toward prison. She’d determined that Chad wasn’t going to be one of them.

  Carmen was known as Kiki to her family when growing up. She didn’t know the origin of the nickname, other than that her father and mother never could agree on anything when she was born, so they named her Carmen (her mother’s choice) after several days of disagreement, but her father always called her Kiki. Her nickname followed her into the police academy after junior college even though she thought it projected the wrong image. She wanted to be tough, just like the male rookies, but, once they discovered her pet name, it stuck. She had proved, however, that she could hold her own in any situation, just like the men, and was occasionally embarrassed when someone called her Kiki instead of “Officer Joyce” on duty.

  Growing up in rural Michigan, close to Jackson, she hadn’t had many role models. Her father and all of his acquaintances were farmers. Her mother had left them when Kiki was an infant. The Michigan State Prison nearby was the most visible alternative reference, and police work seemed ideal compared to working in the dirt day after day, praying for the weather to cooperate and never seeing a fresh coat of paint on the house or a new car. As a kid, they’d only had an old pickup to drive and she’d envied the shiny police cruisers she’d seen when driving to Ann Arbor.

  The University town was another planet to her. Even though it was only a few miles from the farm, her family didn’t fit in the college environment. She didn’t actually understand it, but the collegial atmosphere there was like a foreign society. She felt it was a society she could ever enter. In fact, it was a miracle that she’d gone to the local community college, but it was a requirement before she could take the police exam. She’d done exceptionally well, but academics were only a means to an end, and that end was achieved when she was accepted into the Detroit P.D. cadet program. She knew it was probably the result of the state and federal pressure to add more women to the city police. She wasn’t studious and didn’t do particularly well on the entrance exam, but few women had applied, so she got in. Detroit crime rates didn’t inspire most young women to seek a job in law enforcement.

  She was a standout success in her rooky year. Partly, it resulted from an incident where she was forced to use her weapon. Many officers never draw their guns except for target practice. However, she’d had to pull her gun to protect her partner. She hadn’t had to fire, but became a hero for engaging the criminal, scaring him into submission, yet didn’t feel any more qualified for praise than other first-year officers. She was also physically equal to many men although he had a woman’s figure at five eight, one hundred thirty pounds, she was only slightly smaller than the average man on the street and many of the gang bange
rs were smaller than she. She worked hard in the gym and martial arts training to keep up with the men. In the end, she was more dedicated to her profession than most of her male counterparts. She’d never thought of another career.

  Perhaps the biggest obstacle for her was the way men saw her as a sex partner, rather than another officer. She had a natural beauty that couldn’t be hidden under a uniform. Her heredity had blessed her with beautiful skin and a fair complexion. She couldn’t remember her mother or ever saw any pictures, so she wasn’t able to make a comparison. Her father had been parched in the sun all his life, so no one would know that Kiki’s clear complexion, heart-shaped face, and silky hair wasn’t an anomaly. She had all the characteristics of both her parents. Her father’s eyes were brown and his hair had been prematurely gray. He always said Kiki’s blue eyes and auburn hair came from her mother.

  Before her rookie year ended, she married Chad’s father. It was never a good marriage and probably resulted from the pressure she felt to end the constant hovering from the other male officers. Chad was born before her twenty-second birthday. Her husband lost interest immediately. He hadn’t lost it in other women,