FUNNY MONEY
 

Deciphering the clue...
 
 

Sunday morning
 

The sun was shining brightly in the morning, glistening off the freshly fallen snow.  Amanda shoveled what little snow had stuck to the front walk while Lee tackled the long driveway.  When she finished, she shoveled a path over to where he was diligently working.

“It’s still pretty cold out here.  How about I make us some hot chocolate?” she suggested.

Lee stopped for a moment and rubbed his now aching back.  “That and some aspirin would be great.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have slept on the family room floor last night.  We’re getting too old for that!”

Lee kissed the tip of his wife’s cold red nose.  “My back is sore because of the shoveling.”

“Uh, huh,” she nodded skeptically.  “Do you want me to finish the driveway and you can go inside?”

“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Stetson.  I want you to know, I happen to be in better shape than the average teenager!”

“For lovemaking, yes, sleeping on the cold floor all night,” she replied, turning and heading for the front door, “I’m not so sure.”

“Amanda, look out!” Lee shouted.

Twisting around to see what the hazard was, she was immediately struck in the chest by a snowball.  She shook her head and rolled her eyes, mumbling loud enough for him to hear, “Sometimes you still act like a teenager!”

When Lee came inside a while later, the wonderful scent of hot chocolate greeted him at the door.  “Mmm, it smells delicious.”

“I’ll pour you a mug in a minute,” she called out to him.

Glancing into the family room, where the television was turned to the Weather Channel, he looked for his wife, but didn’t see her.  Shedding his coat and hanging it up inside the closet, he continued into the kitchen.  Hovering over the stove where the hot chocolate was simmering in the pot, he enjoyed the aroma.  “Amanda, where are you?”

“In the dining room,” she replied excitedly.

Lee groaned at the information, having hoped they wouldn’t have to spend all day trying to figure out the cryptogram on the phony bills.  “I thought we agreed to let that go for a while.”

“This is really important, Lee.  I need answers; besides you were out shoveling and it only takes a couple of minutes to make hot chocolate…”

“So you decided to take another crack at it,” he finished her sentence for her.

“It’s a good thing I did.  I think I’ve figured out part of this puzzle,” she responded, now entering the kitchen.  “You look half frozen.”

Rubbing his hands together trying to warm them up, he replied.  “It’s still damned cold out there.  I’m glad the bulk of the storm went north of us.  Nodding towards the television, he mentioned, “It looks like that storm’s hitting New England really hard.”

“Sure sounds like it,” she agreed, pouring him a mug of hot chocolate and dropping a few mini marshmallows on top.  “I won’t complain about two inches of snow when Maine, Vermont, and New Hampshire are expecting upwards of two feet!”

Lee cupped his hands around the mug, allowing the heat to warm up his cold hands and the marshmallows to melt.  Then he sipped at the tasty delight.  “Thanks, it’s delicious.  Tell me, what did you come up with?”

“Come on, I’ll show you,” she replied, reaching for his hand and walking into the dining room together.  “I’ve rearranged the bills with the letters on them in sequence, using their serial numbers.  They spell out, ‘FORSYTHE’.”

Studying her handiwork, he had to smile.  His wife always had a knack for figuring things out.  “That’s good work.  Now, the next question is, do you know who, what, or where FORSYTHE is?”

“I checked the crisscross directory.  There is a Forsythe Avenue in Silver Spring, Maryland, nothing here in Virginia.”

“Well, we can check it out,” he remarked, unconvinced that was what they were looking for.  “Did your father know anyone with that name?”

“That was a long time ago.   I don’t remember, but I can run the name by my mother and see if I get a reaction.”

“Have you talked to her lately?”

“Not since I got back from Chicago, but she knew we were going to celebrate our anniversary this weekend.  I’ll give her a call later.”

“I noticed our street doesn’t look that bad.  I bet the main arteries are already clear.”

“You want to drive up to Silver Spring, and check out Forsythe Avenue together?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Would you mind checking it out yourself?  I could go into the office and finish up a report that didn’t get completed on Friday.”

“Lee!” she protested, “You promised to help me.”

“Amanda, I will, but it’s a holiday weekend, and a lot of people are out of town.  Not to mention my network isn’t what it used to be when I was out in the field.  I’ll make some discreet phone calls, but I think quiet is better than quick.”

Clearly disappointed, she sulked.  “Why, it’s a thirty year old case?  Or is there something else you haven’t shared with me?”

“No, I’ve told you everything Woody briefed me on and what Philip explained.  Call it a hunch.”

“About what?”

Putting down his mug of cocoa, he reached for her hands, holding them protectively in his.  “There’s something else going on here, and I think ‘Forsythe’, whatever or whoever it is, might be the tip of the iceberg.”

“Really?”

“Call it an itch,” Lee nodded, getting that odd feeling that they were about to uncover something that had been dormant for years.  “I’ve got to believe you’re right about your dad.  If he’d been doing something illegal, we would have stumbled across it a long time ago.  Yet, the evidence points to the fact that he had access, control, or in the very least, possession of $1200 in counterfeit bills.  That was a lot of money back in the 60’s.  Things aren’t adding up, and I’d rather move cautiously, than to wake up a sleeping giant.”

“All right, quiet instead of quick,” she agreed reluctantly, taking a deep breath she continued.  “I’ll call mother and play a game of twenty questions and see what I can come up with.  If Forsythe doesn’t ring a bell with her, I’ll drive up to Silver Spring, Maryland and see what turns up on Forsythe Avenue.”

Lee glanced at the clock on the wall.  “It’s almost ten now.  I’ll need a few hours at the office.  I promise to be back no later than one.  We could go up to Silver Spring later, if you prefer.”

“Let me see what mother has to offer.”

Finishing up the hot chocolate, he gave his wife a quick kiss.  “I’ll see you later…”
 

**  ****
 

Lee Stetson didn’t head directly to his office as he told his wife.  Instead, he called a trusted friend on his cell phone.  “T.P., what are you up to this morning?”

“Lee, my boy, I was just sitting down to read the Washington Post.”

“Would you mind if I stopped by for a few minutes?” Lee Stetson asked his old friend and mentor.  “I’ve got something I want to run by you…”

“Oh, really?” T.P., replied curiously.  “Certainly, Lee, you’re welcome anytime.  I’ll put another pot of coffee on for you.”

“Great, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

It wasn’t long before Lee pulled up to T.P. Aquinas’ house.  Hurrying up the shoveled walk, he was about to knock on the door when it was opened, and the smiling face of his old friend greeted him.

“Still rather brisk out there,” T.P. commented.  “I’ve just brewed a fresh pot of coffee for you.  Come on in and tell me what has you up and out on a cold Sunday morning.”

“Thanks,” Lee nodded, hurrying inside the warm house.

The two men settled in T.P.’s small, eat in kitchen.  A homemade loaf of bread was sitting on the table and T.P. poured them each a cup of coffee.  “Help yourself to a slice of bread, Lee.  I made it earlier this morning.  It should still be warm.”

Lee took a slice and lathered it with butter.  “Delicious,” he noted.  “You’ll have to give Amanda the recipe.”

“Actually, it is Amanda’s recipe.  She gave it to me a couple of years ago.  Speaking of which, where is the lovely Mrs. Stetson today?”

“At home,” he replied between bites, leaning back on the chair.  “She doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Oh!  You two aren’t having, um, you know…” he questioned anxiously.

“Marital problems, no,” Lee shook his head and swallowed another bite.  “Call it… family troubles.  You remember Philip, Amanda’s oldest son?”

“Yes, started college last fall, didn’t he?”

“He’s the one,” Lee answered, taking a swig of his coffee.

“Problem in school?” T.P. guessed.

“No, that would be an easier problem to solve. Philip stumbled upon some counterfeit money and got picked up by the Feds,” Lee began to explain, thinking back to all that had transpired over the past few days.  “I was given a briefing by Secret Service after they called to tell me they had Philip in custody.  The money in question was used back in the early 60’s,” Lee paused for a moment before he added the last detail, “in wet operations.”

“Ah, the destabilization of foreign governments by political assassinations and coup d’etats!  A very messy era in the early 1960’s before the government shut down the funding for them.” T.P. mused.  “I bet the Secret Service is pressing for answers.”

“You bet they are.  Philip finally admitted to me where he got the money – and then we located even more of the counterfeit bills.  I think Amanda and I have found some answers, but they only brought up more questions.  It seems that Amanda’s father might have some kind of connection to the money.”

“Her father?!  I’ve never met the man.  Does he work for the government, the military?” T.P. picked up his coffee and took a big gulp, waiting for a response from his younger friend.

“Her father is deceased, died in 1969.  Amanda’s worried sick about this mess.  She found some markings on the bills, letters actually, that spells out a name or a place; we’re not sure.  I thought I’d run it by you.  Does ‘Forsythe’ mean anything to you?”

T.P. nearly choked on his coffee. Covering his mouth, he reached for a napkin and coughed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lee surmised, now watching his friend closely.

T.P. turned away for a few moments and glanced out his kitchen window, appearing to contemplate something important.  For the longest time he didn’t say a word, then finally he faced his friend, and began in a solemn tone.  “Certainly you’ve heard about ‘Project X’ over the years.”

“I’ve been in meetings where the name has come up,” Lee confirmed, his voice serious.  “Nobody has ever confirmed or more importantly, denied its existence.  I’ve always chalked it up to rumors; you know, one of the many urban legends.”

Placing his hand on Lee’s shoulder, T.P. shook his head and admitted, “It’s not a rumor:  ‘Project X’, also known as ‘Project Greek Island’ exists.”

“I’ll be damned!” Lee replied, eagerly wanting to know more.  “A fallout shelter for Congress to escape to in the event of a nuclear attack!  So how does Forsythe play into all this?”

“Forsythe Associates is the name of the corporation that maintains the underground facility.  Now, if I recall correctly, ground was broken for the project back in 1957, maybe 58.  If my memory serves me right, they finished in 1962 around the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis.”

“Is there anything you don’t know?” Lee asked his good friend, and excellent source.

“Certainly, but my position over at the Library of Congress, gives me extraordinary insight on what goes on around town.  You’d be surprised what makes it to my desk unclassified before they reclassify it,” T.P. advised him.  “Maybe Amanda’s father worked for Forsythe Associates?”

“Could be,” Lee nodded, as pieces of the puzzle seem to be fitting together a little clearer.  “She said her father worked in the construction field.  I’ll have to check it out.   How did you find out about the place?”

“Like I said, you’d be surprised what makes it across my desk, but to be totally honest, I’ve been there.  Technically, so have you.”

“I don’t think so, T.P.  I would remember something like that.”

T.P. chuckled.  “Oh, I’ll admit it’s been a long while.  Do you remember where you were when the Three Mile Island Nuclear Accident occurred, back in 1979?”

Lee gave it a moment of thought.  “Yes, I was doing some late season skiing in Tahoe with a knockout blonde named Melanie.”

“Save me the sordid details, Scarecrow.”

“Not much to tell anyway,” Lee shook his head at the memory.  “I’d just gotten checked into my hotel when Billy ordered me back to DC.  All the top brass in town were panicking.  Although, I have to admit, it did bring about sweeping changes involving emergency response planning.”

“That it did,” his friend nodded in agreement.  “Anything else come to mind?”

Lee mulled over that question before answering.  He took another bite of his fresh bread before he answered.  “I was required to attend a two day seminar – it was in western Virginia, I think...  No, wait, it was in West Virginia.”

“Exactly.  If my memory serves me, it was called, ‘National Security and the Nuclear Response.’” T.P. smirked knowingly as Lee Stetson caught on.

“Of course, The Greenbrier!” Lee shouted excitedly.  “Amanda’s father did work there!  He named the dollhouse after it.  It wasn’t the Greenbush, it was the Greenbrier!”

“What are you talking about?” his friend asked, staring at Lee, totally baffled by his outburst.

“I’ll explain it to you later; I promise,” Lee replied, getting up and hurrying towards the front door.  “Thanks for the fresh bread and coffee, T.P.  I’ve gotta go.”
 

*****
 

The sun had begun to melt the snow, and the roads were clear.  Soon, Lee Stetson was pulling into the driveway at 4247 Maplewood.  He rushed into the house, calling for his wife, “Amanda, I’m home!”

“You’re back early!” Amanda remarked happily.  “I just got off the phone with my mother.”

“Your/my father worked for Forsythe Associates,” they said in unison.

“How did you know?” Amanda asked, startled that he’d already known.

“I stopped by T.P.’s.  When I dropped the name ‘Forsythe’, he knew the company.  Amanda, do you still have that dollhouse your father made for you?”

“The dollhouse?” she repeated, not certain she heard him correctly.  “Why?”

“Just tell me, do you still have it?”

“Yeah, it’s up in the attic, over the garage.  I saved it thinking one day if I had a little girl, she’d play with it.  When I had the boys, I put it up there hoping one day, maybe I’d have a granddaughter.”

“Good.  Come on, let’s get it down,” Lee said, reaching for her hand.

“Lee, that thing’s humongous, not to mention it’s cold and filthy in the attic,” she protested, not wanting to climb among the junk that had collected up there over the years.

 “Go put on an old jacket and grab a flashlight,” he replied, unwilling to take no for an answer. “I want to take a look at it.”

“Why do you want to see it?”

“You said it had an address on it.  Call it a gut feeling, but I think the dollhouse holds some answers,” he replied, eager to examine it.  The look he got from his wife was less than supportive.  “Amanda, please, indulge me.  If I’m wrong, you can always tell me ‘I told you so’.”

“All right,” she conceded, shaking her head and mumbling something he couldn’t make out before going into the closet and pulling out an old, worn jacket.

Awhile later, grunting and groaning from the cumbersome size, Lee carried the dollhouse into the kitchen.  Amanda helped him steady it on the counter.

“Damn that thing is heavy!” Lee swore, as he rubbed his aching back.

“I still don’t understand why you wanted to drag it down here,” Amanda replied, as she grabbed some paper towels and a bottle of cleaner to remove the cobwebs and grime from it.

Examining the dollhouse closely, Lee was astonished by the detail.  “I’ve never seen anything like this before.  Two stories, a cupola and weather vane… look at these windows, does the fireplace work?” he asked, only half teasingly as he stared at the craftsmanship on the dollhouse.

“No, of course not!” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“You said it had its own address, right?”

Nodding, Amanda leaned down to the front of it, and pointed, “Yeah, next to the front door, here.”

Squinting, Lee tried to read the tiny letters and numbers on the miniature wooden sign.  “I can’t make it out.”

Amanda sprayed some cleaner on it, and polished the miniscule sign carefully.  With a proud grin, she nodded, “There, that’s better.  I knew it was something with a color in it; it’s 394 Greenbrier Way.”

“That confirms it.  Your father worked for Forsythe Associates at The Greenbrier,” Lee stated assuredly.

“The Greenbrier?  You mean that fancy resort in West Virginia?”

“He didn’t work for the resort,” he replied, emphasizing the word, resort.  “He worked for Forsythe.”

“Lee, I’m not following you.  According to Mother, Daddy worked for Forsythe Associates, but around DC and Virginia.  I do remember we once went to the Greenbrier on vacation.  It was the fanciest place my dad ever took us on a family vacation.  Normally we’d go camping, maybe to the beach, but one year we went there for two whole weeks!  Mother and I felt like we were royalty,” she explained, grinning happily at the pleasant memory.

Lee nodded; believing her mother and Amanda may have been vacationing, but her father most likely wasn’t.  “How old were you when you went there?”

“The Greenbrier, oh my gosh, that was a long time ago,” she shrugged, not really giving it a lot of thought as she continued to clean up her beloved dollhouse.  “I guess about ten or eleven, why?”

“Sounds about right,” Lee nodded, as the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together properly.  “Have you ever heard about ‘Project X’?”

“Sure, I’ve lived in the DC area all my life; who hasn’t?” she exclaimed laughing while continuing to clean the dollhouse.

“What if I tell you it not only exists, but that you’ve stayed there, and I believe your father worked on it,” Lee replied in an even voice.

Finally putting the bottle of cleaner down, she shook her head.  “The Greenbrier?  Lee, you’re mixing facts with fantasy.  The fact that my dad used Greenbrier Way as my dollhouse’s street address was nothing more than a ploy to make my childhood fantasies more vivid.” Standing close to her husband, she touched his face gently.  “You know, maybe I am pushing too hard on the counterfeit money.  I’ve put our weekend alone on the back burner and clearly, you need some time off.”

“An excellent idea!” he replied, excited at the proposal.  Putting his hands on her waist, he kissed her nose.  “Let’s go to the Greenbrier.”

“Lee, slow down!  You’re not making any sense.”

He nodded his head, knowing she didn’t understand.  Reaching for her hand, he agreed.  “Come sit down on the couch with me, and I’ll try to fill in some of the details.”

“Not another talk on the couch!”

Lee laughed, pulling her into him and giving her a supportive hug.  Then walking over to the couch, they sat down together and Lee began to share his theory with her.

“All right, your mother confirmed that your dad worked for Forsythe Associates,” Lee began and Amanda nodded.  “What you don’t know is that Forsythe Associates is also the corporation in charge of maintaining ‘Project X’, the underground fallout shelter built to house Congress in the event of a nuclear attack.”

“You’re… serious?” she forced out, stunned by the revelation.

“According to T.P., it’s built under the Greenbrier Hotel in West Virginia.  It fits what you remember about your dad.  You said he was in construction, looking at the craftsmanship on the dollhouse, I’d say the government was lucky to hire him.”

“When was it built?”

“T.P. mentioned ground was broken for the project in 1957 and completed by 1962.  I was up at the Greenbrier years ago for a conference.  I thought it was odd that they had a conference all the way out there.  The place is in the middle of nowhere, but now it makes sense.”

“How so?”

“The conference was put together shortly after the Three Mile Island nuclear incident.  The seminar was called, ‘National Security and the Nuclear Response’.  Almost all of the attendees there were agents or others involved in security that would be responsible for getting Congressman and Senators safely out of Washington, in case of an attack.  My guess is they had it at the Greenbrier so each agent present would be familiar with the area.”

“When I was there, with my dad, they were constructing a huge, new building,” Amanda recalled.  “He seemed fascinated with the project.”

“Yeah, they probably built the new wing as cover,” Lee concurred.  “The actual shelter is underground.  I want to get inside.”

“Why do you want to go up there?”

“Clearly your dad knew about the money.  It got into the bedpost somehow.   I’m still not sure why, but I think the Greenbrier is the place to start our search for answers.”

“If it was going to house Congress, it would have to be rather sizeable,” Amanda commented, “How are we going to get inside, not to mention, what are we looking for?”

“We’ll have to sneak inside.  If we get caught, we can say we’re with Forsythe Associates.   But we’ll have to figure out where the entrance is,” he shrugged, “It’s not like we have a key.”

Amanda’s eyes opened wide and a smile grew across her face.  “Maybe we do!”

“What?!” Lee asked.

Amanda got up and hurried back to her dollhouse.  She tinkered with the sign, carefully lifting it off the front of the house and removing a secret key.  “Remember I told you it had a special key!”

Lee took the key from her and examined it, but it wasn’t much bigger than a suitcase key.  “I doubt it’s to an entrance door.  First off, it’s too small; secondly, you said he gave you the dollhouse when you were nine.  The project wouldn’t have been far enough along.”

“I agree it’s too small for the entrance door, but he didn’t give me the key when I was nine,” she began to explain.   “The dollhouse, as you can see, is huge.  He gave me that when I was nine.  Over the next few years, he’d add pieces of furniture as birthday or Christmas gifts.  The front door, the key, and the address sign were some of the last things he made for it.  By the time I got them, I felt kind of sad because I was older, and no longer played with it.”

“All right, so the key may have some significance,” Lee nodded.  “What about the number on the house.  Was that your house number growing up?”

“No, our house number was 82.  I’m not sure how he came up with it.”

“We better bring it along.”

Glancing at her husband she asked, “You’re determined to go up there?  That’s got to be a four hour drive.”

“Given the recent snow, probably closer to five,” he concluded.  “If you don’t want to go…”

“I didn’t say that.  Let me get changed into some clean clothes,” she replied, pushing away from the kitchen counter.  Starting towards their bedroom, she paused for a moment and turned back towards her husband,  “Tell me, what does one wear when you’re going in search of a hidden bomb shelter under a five star resort?!”

Lee laughed and shook his head, following his wife up the stairs.

End Part Four
 

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