The Transmuter's Daughter Read online

  The Transmuter’s Daughter

  By

  Laurence Dahners

  Copyright 2018

  Laurence E Dahners

  Kindle Edition

  Author’s Note

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Thursday morning

  Thursday afternoon

  Chapter One

  Thursday morning

  Thursday afternoon

  Chapter Two

  Friday morning

  Friday afternoon

  Chapter Three

  Saturday morning

  Just after midnight

  Seven in the morning

  Chapter Four

  Sunday morning

  Sunday evening

  Monday morning

  Monday noon

  Tuesday morning

  Tuesday afternoon

  Chapter Five

  Wednesday morning

  Wednesday afternoon

  Thursday morning

  Thursday evening

  Friday afternoon

  Friday evening

  Saturday morning

  Saturday afternoon

  Epilogue

  Sunday, mid-June

  The End

  Author’s Afterword

  Prologue

  Thursday morning

  What a dumb ass, Dan Norwood would think later.

  Dan was fooling around with one of the electric guitars at Asheville Coin and Precious Metals—which also did some business as a pawn shop. This Daryn Djai guy came through the door and walked right up to the counter, catching Dan’s attention because he didn’t look like the kind of guy who collected coins. He didn’t look like he’d need to pawn stuff either. Old Bucky himself was staffing the counter and went over to Djai. After introducing himself and getting the guy’s name, Bucky sat on a stool and asked, “What can I do for you?”

  The guy pulled a whitish-silver chunk of metal out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. It looked to Dan to be about the size and shape of a tablespoon block of butter like you might slice off the end of a quarter pound stick. Djai said, “I’m wondering what kind of rate you can give me for platinum?”

  Bucky didn’t exactly roll his eyes, but Dan could tell he had doubts about the platinum claim. However, when Bucky picked up the little chunk of metal, Dan thought he was impressed by its weight. Pulling open a little drawer, he said, “Okay, the first thing we do is test it with a magnet.”

  Dan watched as Bucky brought a little magnet up to it. The magnet didn’t stick to it, and in fact didn’t seem disturbed by the metal at all. Bucky said, “It’s not magnetic. That’s one point for platinum.” He looked up at his visitor and said, “I’m gonna rub it on this stone till it leaves a mark. That’s so I can do an acid test on the mark, okay?”

  Djai only nodded.

  Bucky rubbed it on a jeweler’s stone, then went back in the drawer to get out a little bottle. He said, “Next we see if this acid dissolves the mark.” Dan watched Bucky put a drop of acid onto the stone and wait for about a minute. He nodded, “The mark stayed white. That’s good.” He went back in the drawer and pulled out a little butane torch. Holding it up, he raised his eyebrows at Djai and said, “Next, we heat a spot until it’s red hot, okay?”

  Getting another nod, Bucky fired up the torch and heated the block of metal until a spot glowed red. He snapped the torch off and sat back to watch. When it’d cooled, Bucky gave an admiring nod. He said, “it didn’t change color. Means at least the part we can see’s most likely platinum.” As if talking to himself, he continued, “Now, with a big chunk like this, we got to make sure it’s not just a chunk of something else with platinum plating on the outside.” Bucky weighed the small slab of metal and Dan heard him mumble, “338.50 grams.” While Bucky was measuring its displacement, Dan did a search on his phone to learn that 338.5 grams was almost three quarters of a pound.

  Dan sat back to think about this. There were 8 tablespoon-sized slices of butter on a quarter pound stick. If it was butter, it’d weigh one thirty-second of a pound. How in the world could something about the size of one slice of butter weigh three quarters of a pound?

  Bucky sat back and said, “So, it displaces 15.77 ccs—” He picked up a calculator, “So, that makes its density— 21.46 grams per cubic centimeter. Heavier than gold, which is correct, but it’s even a little too much for platinum.” He picked up a magnifying glass and searched each surface of the little block. He squinted up at Djai, “I can’t see any hallmarks. Is there one somewhere and I’m just not finding it?”

  Djai shook his head slowly.

  Bucky said, “Let me weigh it and measure its displacement again.” He repeated the steps, then said, “Same result.” He sat back on his barstool and stared down at the chunk of metal. “Might be margin-of-error but—” He turned to his computer and scrolled up and down a little bit. Turning back to Djai, he said, “I guess it might have a little bit of iridium or osmium in it. That’d make it denser than platinum and it’d still pass the platinum tests. Iridium’s more valuable and osmium’s less valuable than platinum according to the chart.” Scratching his head, he said, “Where’d this come from?”

  Djai finally spoke again, “I’d rather not say.”

  Bucky’s eyes went back to the piece of metal and he started talking, as if to himself. “Let’s say it’s platinum. It’s hard to believe anyone would own enough platinum jewelry to melt it down into a chunk this big. If someone owned some bars or other kind of bullion, it’s hard to imagine them melting a nice hallmarked ingot and recasting it into an odd-sized brick like this.” He looked back up at Djai, “You understand? We’d feel like we were taking a risk, buying something like this, if we don’t know where it came from.”

  After a moment, Djai said, “I suppose that means you can’t give me top dollar, right?”

  Bucky glanced around the store, pausing on Dan for a moment before his eyes went back to Djai. He nodded, “That’s right.”

  Lifting his chin, Djai said, “What would you pay?”

  Bucky scratched his chin, “Spot price for platinum’s $29.60 per gram today. Means 338.5g—” he pulled up a calculator and bent over it for a moment. When he sat back up he continued, “Should be worth $10,019. Now you’d never get that, but you’d usually come pretty close. For this stuff though—” he shrugged, “without no provenance, best I could do’d be about $9500.”

  Djai stood there for most of a minute without saying anything. Then, “What if I told you I’ve got a platinum mine?”

  Bucky tilted his head, “I think I heard there was a mine with some platinum down near Lake Lure, but that was a long, long time ago.” He shook his head, “There ain’t no platinum mining in North Carolina nowadays.”

  Djai picked up his chunk of metal and dropped it in the pocket of his jeans. “Well, I guess I’ll see what other people have to offer. Maybe I’ll be back.” He turned and left the store.

  Dan stood, “Bucky, what’s the lowest you’ll go on this guitar?”

  “Five hundred, just like it says on the tag.”

  Dan shook his head disappointedly, “Too rich for my blood.” He settled the guitar back on its stand and went out the door himself. He turned the same direction as Djai. Once he’d cleared the window of the coin and metals place, he pulled out his cell phone in hopes of getting a picture of Djai’s license plate.

  ***

  Dan dropped by Mr. Buckley’s place with the picture of the license plate on Djai’s truck. He told Buckley about Djai and the platinum. Buckley had a fellow in his office who knew how to get Djai’s address and some other general informa
tion from the license.

  Mr. Buckley turned the screen where Dan could look on and said, “So this’s where he lives.”

  Dan studied the map. Djai’s place was in the hills south of Asheville. After giving Dan a minute to look at it, Buckley clicked it over to satellite view and zoomed in on the property. They could only see a piece of roof because there were so many trees. “Can you bring up the topography map?” Dan asked.

  Buckley didn’t know how, so Dan showed him. He zoomed out, studied it for a moment, then said, “The creeks there drain into the French Broad River. People pan the French Broad for gold sometimes.”

  Buckley frowned, “I thought Djai was supposed to have platinum?”

  “He did, but when you’re panning for gold, sometimes you get some little platinum nuggets too.”

  Buckley gave Dan a dubious look, “So, you think he might actually have a platinum mine?”

  Dan shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe? I can’t think of any other reason why he’d show up with a big chunk of platinum. He’d have to be crazy to melt down jewelry when some of the jewelry might be worth more in its original form.”

  Buckley twisted his lips, “Maybe he stole the jewelry. Melting it down makes it untraceable.”

  “Maybe. It’d be a lot to steal. I looked it up and that chunk’d represent fifty to sixty typical rings or necklaces.”

  Buckley shrugged, “Maybe he’s been stealing jewelry for a living for a long time. He’s been melting down and selling the gold all along and just now saved up enough platinum to sell a chunk of it?”

  “So, why didn’t he take it to whoever’s been fencing his gold?”

  Buckley grunted and turned to look back at the map displayed on his screen. “Well then, what’s a platinum mine look like?”

  Looking into the distance out the window, Dan said, “I don’t rightly know. Wikipedia says that most platinum’s just a byproduct at big copper or nickel mines. Near’s I can tell, a little bit of platinum and some of the other expensive metals just kind of settle out when they’re refining the copper.”

  Sounding a little frustrated, Buckley said, “Well then, what’s a copper mine look like?”

  “I’m pretty sure most of ‘em are huge open pit mines. There sure as hell isn’t one of them hiding on this map we’re looking at.”

  With a snort, Buckley said, “First you tell me he has a mine, now you’re telling me he doesn’t have a mine. What’s it gonna be?”

  “I don’t know—” Dan trailed off, but then resumed, “He seemed real smart, you know? Maybe there’s some third option we’re not thinking of.” He stared out the window for another minute, “I’ve got no idea what it’d be though.”

  Thursday afternoon

  Dan and Rob walked up the private road that wound past Djai’s house. Argo was sitting in the truck out on the road so he could give warning if Djai came back. Dan and Rob’d already rung the doorbell at the ramshackle house. There hadn’t been any answer, so they’d walked around the house, peering in the windows.

  They’d seen nothing to disabuse them of the information Buckley’s man had pulled out of the state database. It said Djai was a widower, living there with a teenage son and daughter.

  Dan didn’t know what he thought he might see. A black cat outfit belonging to some kind of jewel thief? Miner’s helmet and heavy work gloves? A wizard’s pointy hat, such as might belong to someone who could conjure platinum?

  The graveled dirt road they were walking up climbed a relatively steep slope rising up toward the ridge west of the house. The road wasn’t overgrown. In fact, it looked like it’d been graded recently. Dan thought it saw regular use, rather than being something left over from a previous owner.

  The road abruptly turned right and plunged into the opening of what looked like a mine shaft. Dan glanced around. Hidden beneath the trees was the side of the mountain, almost steep enough to qualify as a cliff. The opening was bolstered by concrete bulwarks, but they looked old. Dan didn’t know how old, but he thought certainly older than the decade Djai supposedly had lived at this address. If he had to guess, Dan would’ve said the concrete looked at least fifty years old, but he wasn’t an expert.

  However, the steel doors closing the entrance only looked about five to ten years old. One stood a little ajar, a massive padlock dangling from its heavy duty hasp.

  After surveying the scene for a few moments, Dan stepped forward and rapped on the door that stood open. When nothing happened, he rapped again and called out, “Hello. Anyone here?”

  Still no response. Dan looked back over his shoulder at Rob. Rob lifted his arms slightly away from his sides, suggesting puzzlement. Dan spoke into his Bluetooth headset, “Argo, no sign of ‘im, right?”

  Argo, a man of few words, came back, “Nope.”

  Dan waved Rob over to him. Speaking quietly, he said, “I’m going to have a look-see inside. I won’t have any cell reception in there, so I need you to stand by the door and give me a shout if Djai shows up.”

  Rob nodded and Dan activated the flashlight function on his cell phone. Stepping through the opening, he looked around. The tunnel was lighted, though the lights were widely spaced and not very bright. He turned off the flashlight function and started walking deeper into the tunnel, staying closer to one wall. There’re rails on the floor, he realized. This is a mine!

  Dan had gone some distance and just gone around a gentle bend in the tunnel when he saw a bobbing flashlight coming from deeper in the mine. His first reaction was to turn and head back out, but the guy’d already seen him. He stopped and waited.

  When the flashlight got closer, its owner lifted it to illuminate Dan. The guy had on a helmet and work clothes, as if he were a miner. Dan said, “Hello. I didn’t get any response to my knock, so I thought I’d come in to see if there was anyone here.”

  The guy kept coming, and said, “Yeah, someone’s here. Guess I should have a way to lock the door from the inside. You mind heading back out?”

  “No problem man,” Dan said, thinking, That’s Djai! Dan wondered how the man had gotten up here and into the mine. Djai’s truck wasn’t up at the mine and it wasn’t down at the house—Dan’s own garage was so full of junk that he never considered the possibility that someone might park a car in one. Trying to put on an affable tone, he slowly started backing toward the opening. He said, “We were hoping to ask you a few questions about your property, though. My boss’s got the gold bug. He’s got me out checking out old mines. We heard they were all out of operation except a few tourist traps. Are you actually working this one?”

  “Not for sale,” the guy said. Having gotten pretty close, he lifted the flashlight to Dan’s face. He said, “Aw crap,” in a disgusted tone. “You’re the guy who was picking guitar at the coin and metals place, right?” Despite the questioning tone, the guy obviously didn’t have any doubt. He pointed at the door and said, “Get the hell outta here. You’re trespassing on private property.”

  Dan had a temper that reacted badly when he was spoken to rudely. He knew he should just go like the man said. Instead, he took two strides and grabbed Djai in a bear hug. “You shouldn’t talk to people that way,” he growled into Djai’s ear.

  Djai stomped on his instep. With a howl of pain, Dan almost let Djai go, but managed to slide his right hand down to grab Djai’s wrist and force it up behind his back. Lifting the smaller man up onto his tiptoes, Dan gritted out, “You shouldn’t a done that, either.” He turned and bellowed toward the tunnel entrance, “Rob, get your ass in here!”

  Dan backed up far enough that he could see the door opening. Rob leaned in and called, “How we gonna know if—” Seeing Djai, he cut himself off and started jogging down the tunnel toward them. When he arrived, he looked for a moment at how Dan had Djai up on his toes, then asked, “What’s the plan now?”

  “Now,” Dan ground out, “we ask this asshole some questions.” With a little upward jerk on Djai’s wrist, he said, “Like I was askin’ you politely befor
e, are you workin’ this mine?”

  His voice tight, Djai said, “Yeah.”

  “And what are you mining out of it?”

  “Platinum.”

  “My understanding now, is platinum don’t come by itself. What else are you gettin’?”

  Djai shook his head, “Just platinum.”

  “Is that right,” Dan said flatly. He glanced over at Rob, “Take the man’s flashlight and let’s head down the tunnel. We’ll just go have a look at this pure platinum ore body.”

  Taking the man’s flashlight, Rob started down the tunnel, leading the way. Dan followed, holding Djai’s wrist up behind his back. As they went, he started wondering how he and Rob were going to get out of this mess. Obviously, they didn’t want the cops involved. The police tended to take a dim view of people who trespassed on property uninvited. With Dan still on probation from some previous felonies, he surely wouldn’t get any sympathy from the police. Maybe we’ll have to kill this bastard? he wondered. We could just brain him with a rock. That wouldn’t leave any clues for the cops, they’d just think a piece of the roof fell in on him.

  Dan hadn’t ever killed anyone but he suddenly realized that he’d always considered it inevitable. And I can’t think of any other way to dig myself out from under this particular pile of dog shit.

  They were walking between the rails that ran down the tunnel. When Dan stumbled for about the tenth time on the uneven ties under his feet. He said, “Rob! Don’t get so damn far ahead. I can’t see where I’m going an’ I’m trippin’ over shit back here.”

  Rob paused, shining the light behind him for a few moments until they caught up. Then, holding the flashlight in his right hand, he pointed it pretty much straight down so its beam illuminated a little way behind him as well as a short distance in front.

  There weren’t any more lights on the ceiling and they were around another gentle corner from the last light. The flashlight was the only thing lighting the stygian darkness. It focused Dan’s attention down onto the tracks. He noticed the ties between the rails looked like they were rotting. The rails themselves were rusty; however, there was a small black stripe on top of the rails. The stripe suggested wheels rode the rails occasionally, but it sure didn’t look like a serious ongoing operation. A spatter of drops fell from the ceiling to land on his head. He wished he had on a helmet like Djai.