A Conspiracy of Bones (Temperance Brennan #19)(52)
“I found a picture of them together in 2010.”
“The internet wingnut and the dead perv?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At a conference on mind control.”
“You said Body don’t like paparazzi.” Dubious.
I told Slidell about the dark web and the DeepUnder site.
“Apparently, someone spotted Body in the crowd. Maybe an admirer, maybe an opportunist hoping to score with the shot. Who knows? I recognized Vodyanov from the composite sketch.”
“You’re sure it was him?”
“Yes. So the two know each other.”
“The link being this conspiracy shit?”
“Vodyanov was into it. Conspiracy theories are Body’s lifeblood.”
Slidell did the thing he does in his throat.
“They were with a third man identified as Yates Timmer.”
“What kinda pussy-ass name is Y—”
“Can you run him? See if anything pops?”
“I’m just heading out to work something.”
“A lead on Jahaan Cole?”
“No. I’m looking into maybe D. B. Cooper’s buried under Panthers Stadium.”
I said nothing.
Long-suffering sigh. Then, “An old woman living near the Cole home called the tip line saying a car circled the block twice around two a.m. the night before the kid went missing. Apparently, the old biddy don’t sleep so well. Anyway, her call slipped through the cracks.”
“Slipped through the cracks?”
“There’s no ref to a follow-up, no interview report. I did some digging. Turns out Granny was eighty-three back then. Shortly after that, her kids parked her in an old folks’ home.”
“Assisted living.” With an appropriate note of reproach.
“Whatever. We’re going to have a little chat.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“No. Could be her circuits are scrambled.”
Could be hers are sharper than yours. I didn’t say it.
“You’ll look into Yates Timmer as soon as you’re back?”
“Sure. In the meantime, I’m certain you’ll have at him on the Weird Wide Web.”
I did. As soon as I’d brewed coffee and fed the cat.
I needed no deep-net browser to find Yates Timmer. No password. Links to his website popped up with good old Google.
Timmer was a Realtor with properties to sell. Not ranch homes in Modesto or condos in Fort Wayne.
As I clicked through listings, my jaw literally dropped.
18
Timmer’s business was called Homes at the End of the World, LLP. The home page was set up much like that of DeepUnder. Tabs across the top offered four options: “About Me,” “Contact Me,” “Properties for Sale,” “Property Video Tours.”
Below the tabs: “I specialize in the Acquisition & Sale of Missile Bases & Underground Structures.”
Under that startling statement was a pair of before-and-after aerial shots. On the left, looking militaristically stark, was a Nike missile base built in 1954, decommissioned in 1965. On the right was the same property in 2014, now lushly landscaped with hedge-lined walks, driveway, and pond. A flat, concrete-roofed hill could be seen just breaching the surface at the center of an expanse of unrelentingly green grass.
Beneath the two pictures, a sales pitch.
The properties I represent give new meaning to the word hardscape. HARD ESCAPE! Underground bunkers. Hidden missile silos. Buried command centers. These subterranean strongholds provide the ultimate in safety and privacy. They assure solitude and security in violent and troubling times. Once converted, such complexes are ports in any storm, be it actual war or simply the frenzy of 21st century life. Far from the beaten path, and safe from calamity, they are truly Homes at the End of the World.
Designed by the Department of Defense and constructed with enough reinforced steel and impenetrable concrete to survive a nuclear attack, underground missile bases and silos are some of the strongest buildings in existence. Such structures redefine the words bomb shelter.
And what an investment opportunity! Given climate change and today’s highly volatile political situation, both domestically and internationally, these prized and very limited properties are rapidly appreciating in value. Act now, and I can make one yours!
Selecting the tab labeled “About Me” produced a picture of Yates Timmer. Same military-style glasses. But the wavy hair was thinner, the dress more casual than at the mind-control conference eight years earlier. Wearing jeans, a safari bush jacket, and boots, Timmer stood with arms crossed, legs spread, in a tubular tunnel with walls of corrugated steel. Behind him, rocket-shaped coach lights flanked a studded steel door.
A brief bio described Timmer as a retired Army engineer specializing in the niche market of underground military structures. His background included the exploration of nearly one hundred sites and the sale of more than forty properties.
Timmer was described as an expert at converting subterranean complexes into residences, having spent twenty years transforming a missile base into a home he called World’s End House.
I clicked on the worldsendhouse.com link.
And found myself looking at the “after” photo featured on the page I’d just left. And an overview of the property’s grim history.