Conemaugh

2.

A week later, Quinn stood beside the excavated sight in Johnstown. He looked down into the layers of clay and silt that had been cut through to form a well for a reflecting pool.

The irony of the idea - building a pool to commemorate a flood - was not lost on him.

He was escorted to a suite of offices where the officials working with the remains had set up quarters. The statement he had come to make was met with incredulity.

"You claim to have been present the day of the flood Mr..."

"Just call me Quinn," he answered. "And I sure as hell was here that day. That's not something anyone could forget."

"But that would make you...".

"102 last month," Quinn said clearly, leaning patiently on the cane he used. Other than that one implement to help his balance, he got around like a much younger man.

There was a long silence in the room as the associates threw looks at each other.

"Can you tell us about the Johnstown Jewel, then?" The young investigator spoke almost spitefully, as if this were the thing that would reveal the con.

"I can do more than that, Quinn said, sliding a hand into his coat pocket. "I can give you the other half." He laid a transparent bag holding a heavy, shining object on the table with a gentle thunk.

The silence that followed the collective gasp was very satisfying.