“But Godfather, I am receiving regular reports by phone from one of the expedition members.”
“And who is that?”
Costa told him.
“And why do you believe any information you learn will be correct?”
“Because I have promised that my source will reap rich rewards if the group finds Jack Borland’s Ancient Library and the gold sheets.”
John Spedino asked questions for ten more minutes and Costa answered every one. He told Spedino everything he knew about the expedition, its members and about Arthur Borland.
Spedino lowered the partition and told the driver to stop the SUV. He barked instructions to Rafael, who’d been riding in the passenger seat. Rafael frisked Enrique, finding a handgun and a cell phone in his jacket pocket. Spedino took both and told Rafael to wait outside the vehicle. Spedino raised the privacy barrier and said, “I wanted us to be able to talk alone, without Rafael hearing our conversation. Now that we’ve covered all the serious talk, I want to know something. Tell me more about this girl – this Nicole Farber. What does she look like? I hear she’s really beautiful.”
“Oh, Godfather, she is a beauty, a rarity in fact. Blonde, blue eyes, an ideal American woman.”
“You saw her naked in the jungle, I presume. Is her body beautiful as well? Does she have perfect breasts?”
Enrique relaxed. This was going well. The old man just wanted to be titillated by stories of the naked girl.
“Yes, Godfather. I saw her naked every day. I saw every inch of her body. She is perfect, that is certain. And her breasts, they are like melons – round and ripe. She is very tan, even on her breasts. I think she must tan naked as rich American ladies sometimes do. I wanted to touch her but you know, I decided against that. But that woman – she could arouse any man for sure.”
“You included?”
“Of course. I am just a man, after all! I wanted to do far more than touch her, if you know what I mean. But I restrained myself!” He grinned. “I can do more than tell you, Godfather. See for yourself!”
Tomas pointed to his phone. The Godfather handed it over and the man thumbed through to the picture of Nicole tied naked to the table. He grinned as he passed the phone back to Spedino.
The old man will really like this!
He looked at the picture impassively. “Did your men get a good look also? Did they get to see her spread out like this? And did you let them touch her?”
“Oh yes. And I gave strict instructions that they could look all they wanted but not to touch!”
“And when you left each evening how did you ensure that order was obeyed, Senor Costa?” The godfather smiled at him.
“I could only hope they could restrain themselves as I had done,” Costa laughed, even more confident as the Godfather became engrossed in the story.
Spedino suddenly snarled, “You are a fool, Enrique. Do you know who Nicole Farber is? She is my consigliere. Do you know what that means?”
“Yes, sir,” he stammered. “Yes…she is your second-in-command, your confidante, your advisor. I didn’t know she was your consigliere, Godfather. You must believe me.”
“Of course I believe you, ‘Tomas Rodriguez.’ I named Nicole Farber my consigliere only a day ago. If she had been my consigliere before you kidnapped her I doubt you and I would be having this conversation. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes…yes, Godfather. I apologize if I offended you, sir.”
“You didn’t offend me, Enrique. You shamed one of my friends. You cast your lecherous eyes on the body of Nicole Farber. You allowed yourself to lust after her. Now first I want you to tell me how you and your contact on the expedition communicate by phone. Do you call or does that person? How exactly does it work?”
John Spedino learned everything he needed to know. They drove silently back to the airport. Spedino got out and told Rafael what to do next. Rafael’s eyes widened slightly as he heard what was planned for Enrique Costa but he averted them. The Godfather didn’t need to see his alarm. Twenty minutes later his bound prisoner was in the cargo area of the SUV and Rafael himself was driving away from Guatemala City.
Within six hours the mining camp in the Montanas Mayas was active once again. Since Nicole Farber’s escape it had been deserted but now there was a new prisoner.
Enrique Costa, the man who called himself Tomas Rodriguez, was stripped naked and tied firmly to the four corners of the metal table, the very place where Nicole herself had been spread-eagled by Enrique. Rafael carefully repaired the corner post that Nicole had broken, affixing it to the table with wire. It was very secure. He was certain that there would be no escaping this table a second time.
Taking his time, Rafael removed the netting that still hung over the table. It had protected Nicole from animals or bugs that might fall through the roof hole or the open windows. There was no need for that protection any more.
Rafael put no grease on the legs. That precaution had been taken to ensure small insects or even snakes couldn’t make their way up to the tabletop and get to the prisoner. The Godfather had told Rafael to skip that step.
“Well, Enrique,” Rafael said at last, “it is time for me to go. It will be dark soon. I trust you will have a good evening. I will not be back and no one will come to let you loose, so if you can free yourself it would probably be a good thing to do quickly. Oh yes, there’s one more thing I was told to do before I left.”
Rafael walked to the doorway where he had dropped a sack on the way in. He opened it and set a bottle on the table next to Enrique.
Enrique began to moan. “Oh God, no! You can’t do this. For the love of God, Rafael. No!”
“You must have really made Mr. Spedino angry, Enrique. That was not smart of you.” He unscrewed the lid of a jar of honey and poured the thick liquid liberally over Enrique’s genitals. “This is for your lust. Now you had better close your eyes. This will be sticky.” He took his finger, dipped it in the honey and smeared the gooey substance over Costa’s closed eyelids. “That is for watching the girl. Goodbye, Enrique. I hope a jaguar happens to come by and kill you. That would be better, I think, than the insects eating you alive.” He turned and left the room. The prisoner lay on the table fighting mightily against the tight ropes that bound his hands and feet. Nothing worked. He prayed for a merciful quick death. That would also not happen.
By late afternoon the Gulfstream was winging its way eastward. John Spedino had a light lunch then retired to the bedroom. It was a three-hour flight and he wanted to be in top form when he arrived so he decided to take a short nap. He hung his clothes neatly in the closet and lay on the bed in his shorts and t-shirt. Before he slept he looked at Enrique Costa’s phone. He saw a text message that had been sent from Lynne Parker’s phone the night before. It said, “We found the temple. Captain Jack’s wife is dying.”
He put off his nap for another twenty minutes. There was a call he needed to make; once that was done he drifted into the slumber of a man with few cares.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The excitement was palpable as the group moved through the crouching jaguar statues into the first room of the Temple of the Sanctuary. Every wall of the room was lined with shelves reaching about eight feet from floor to ceiling. Every shelf was empty – a layer of dust several inches thick lay both on the shelves and on the floor in front of them. “Sadly, that dust is the remains of codices that have disintegrated in this humidity,” Lynne observed. “It’s sad to see but I really didn’t expect to find even one book in decent condition. In five hundred years it’s obvious nothing survived.”
Brian walked into the second room, then a third. Each was the same as the first, containing a window on each side wall. The rooms had remains of wooden furniture lying in a heap in the center. He commented, “All this history, all the combined knowledge of the Mayan people, either burned by Bishop Landa five hundred years ago or crumbled to dust right here in this building. It’s just tragic.”
A final room le
d to the rear of the building. This time not only was a pile of wood on the floor denoting where the table had been but a human skull also lay in the pile, grinning up at the explorers. “This has to be the guide who brought Cortes here,” Lynne said quietly. “And then Cortes executed him.”
“And here,” Sam said with a flourish, gesturing toward the back wall of the room, “is the thing you’ve all been waiting for. What’s behind door number three?”
A door about three feet wide and six feet high was clearly outlined in the wall. It appeared that mud had been used to seal it on all sides. Dozens of glyphs had been drawn into the mud while it was still wet – most were clearly visible although a few had begun to flake off.
Brian strode to the door, reaching out his hand. “Don’t touch it!” Lynne screamed, his fingers millimeters away from the dried mud.
Brian jerked his hand back. “What the hell?” he yelled.
“That stuff will slough off in a second if you touch it, Brian. Don’t even get close enough for your breath to hit it.”
Duly restrained, Brian said, “According to the letter Alvarado thought Cortes might have returned and taken the gold. Do you think this seal is intact? It looks broken to me.”
Lynne stood a foot from the Mayan pictographs and looked at them closely. “It’s been opened, I think. See the thin line down the middle of the seal that outlines the door? I think it’s been opened but we can only hope Cortes didn’t come back and take everything that was inside.
“This is as far as we can go for today. We have a lot of work ahead and we must do our duty as discoverers. I have to thoroughly document this door and its markings before we open it and go into the room beyond. This is unprecedented. I’m not aware that anything like this has ever been seen before. We’re the Howard Carters of the Mayan world,” Lynne said, referring to the man who discovered the tomb of King Tutankhamen in Egypt in 1922.
“Remember what Howard Carter said when Lord Carnarvon asked him what he saw in the next room?” Sam laughed. “‘Wonderful things,’ he replied. I hope we can say the same thing when we open that door.”
Brian said, “Alfredo, how about you guys set up camp? We shouldn’t stay inside this structure; there’s no reason for us to damage anything we don’t have to. Lynne, are you going to start now on your documentation?”
“Yep. I’ll need you two to help me.” From her pack she took out her camera and two stainless steel plates. “These will function as mirrors. It’s better to use natural light than a flash or strobe so you guys position yourselves. Sam, stand next to the window and direct the sunlight to Brian’s mirror. Brian, pick up where he directs and shine it over here on the glyphs, one by one as I direct you. I’ll photograph them first and then I’ll draw each one.”
Sam complained, “My God, Lynne. There must be a hundred. How long’s that going to take?”
“We have to be patient. We’re on the verge of something enormous. I can feel it. Even if there’s nothing in the room beyond this door these glyphs are priceless artifacts, incredibly rare. We have to do this right.”
“Agreed,” Brian said. “As much as we want to finish this we have to ensure we document it properly. We would be no better than the Spanish conquistadors if we contributed to the destruction of the heritage of this civilization.”
They focused mirrors and watched Lynne work until the sun dropped behind the mountains. The Belizean men had set up camp, begun preparing dinner and at Sam’s direction they pulled out the last of the rum to celebrate. She had managed to photograph and draw about thirty glyphs comprising all of one side of the door by the time they had to stop because of the failing light.
“I can read most of the glyphs,” Lynne advised the group. “They honor a Mayan ruler – Jasaw Chan K’awill. He reigned in the late ninth century and died around 890 A.D. I figure he must have been the one who was ruler of this city.”
“Are there any curses?” Sam laughed. “I heard King Tut’s curse killed most of the people who were there when Tut’s tomb was found.”
“I really don’t believe in curses,” she replied. “There actually is one though. In the upper right corner where the horizontal glyphs on the lintel stop and begin moving vertically down the right side of the door there’s a curse that roughly says, ‘Death awaits those who enter here.’”
Brian laughed. “In reality death awaits all of us – not just the ones who go through that door.”
They talked more about the glyphs then Sam asked Lynne to check the signal on her phone. “Check the battery too,” Brian said. “Where does it stand?”
She turned the phone on. “Looks like 44% and one bar.”
“Why’s the phone losing power so fast? No one’s using the phone that we don’t know about – right? I’m asking everyone – has anyone else used this phone?” He got negative responses from everyone, workmen included.
Lynne said, “You know, it could be losing power because of heat and humidity or just how long since we’ve charged it. Who knows? IPhones are strange, as anyone who has one knows! I don’t think there’s a mysterious conspiracy going on. I think it’s just a natural phenomenon.”
Sam took the phone. “I’m going to try to call.” He attempted to get the call to go through several times to no avail. “OK, maybe tomorrow.”
“Hey guys, if no one minds, can I guard the phone for tonight?” Brian asked.
Lynne shrugged and handed it to him. “Here, Sherlock Holmes. Let me know when you’ve solved The Mystery of the Dying Phone Battery.” Brian laughed and put the phone just inside his tent flap.
The rum was warm but the celebration was no less happy as a result. Everyone felt a sense of euphoria – they were on the verge of a major discovery and each person went to bed wondering what might lie behind the ancient door.
At midnight a hand reached through Brian’s tent flap and felt around until its fingers wrapped around the cell phone. No call was made – after a phone number was entered two sentences of text were written. “We found the temple. Captain Jack’s wife is dying.” A whooshing sound confirmed the text had been sent. Then the text was deleted.
The hand quietly replaced the phone inside Brian’s tent. As it withdrew Brian grabbed the wrist tightly, threw back the tent flap and looked directly into the face of the person who had put it there.
“We need to talk,” he said grimly to Lynne Parker.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Arrangements had been made for John Spedino’s arrival at Flamingo Airport on the sleepy island of Bonaire in the Dutch Caribbean. Customs was a cursory document check and the godfather was soon seated in the back of a black Audi that the Cardinale Casino had sent to the airport.
Upon his arrival the casino manager, an impeccably dressed man in his thirties, came to the car, opened the door and said in English with a distinct Dutch accent, “Welcome, Mr. Spedino. It’s been too long since we last saw you. Thank you for advising us you were coming. I have your suite ready.”
“I’m glad it was available on such short notice.”
“Ah, sir, it is always available. We never rent your suite to others. It is always ready should you choose to visit us. After all, if you decide on a whim to come check on your investments in Bonaire we should be ready for you, am I not right?”
“I’m not sure what you mean about my investments. I just know I enjoy this beautiful island resort from time to time.” Spedino made a mental note that this man talked too much. And whoever had told him that John Spedino had investments in Bonaire had spoken out of turn, to put it mildly. That would be corrected later.
An hour later John Spedino was sitting in the living room of his suite. The doorbell rang and he answered it. “You must be Arthur Borland. Come in.”
Borland entered the room and sat where Spedino gestured. “I know you’re wondering why I called you here. First, do you know who I am?”
“I’ve heard your name.”
“You’ve heard my name? I am the Godfather. Do you know th
at?” he roared.
Borland averted his eyes from Spedino’s face and nodded.
“Good. I can be your friend or I can be your worst enemy. That’s your choice. Now to business. It seems we have some mutual acquaintances – do you know Tomas Rodriguez or Enrique Costa?”
“Those names don’t ring a bell, I’m sorry. May I ask what this is about?”
“Patience, Lord Borland. Indulge an old man. You’ll soon learn the purpose of my wanting to see you.”
The godfather continued. “A few days ago you received a phone call from a man who gave you a deadline – ten days to finish looking for the Ancient Library. Do you know the name of the man who called you?”
“No. I presume he works for Jorge Arocha.”
“Ah, there’s another name. So you know Mr. Arocha?”
“I don’t know him well. He and I are in a couple of business transactions together. That’s all. With all due respect Mr. Spedino, I’m not going to talk further until you tell me what’s going on.”
Spedino was unaccustomed to receiving orders; he was far better at giving them. In this case he merely smiled and said, “Jorge is your partner in the funding of your drug and gambling addictions – is that what you mean?”
Lord Borland blanched. He swallowed hard and stammered, “I…I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Picking up a piece of paper from the end table next to his chair, Spedino said, “Twenty minutes ago my people whisked you from your chair at the blackjack table to come see me. At that time you were in debt to the Cardinale Casino $213,000. Additionally, you buy your cocaine by the quarter pound – you must have quite a craving. You’ve bought $15,000 in cocaine just since you came to Bonaire, not to mention over $100,000 you owe to your dealers in New York and London. And if you owe dealers in New York and London, you owe me, Lord Borland. You owe the Godfather. You’re in a bit of a fix, I’d say.”
Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries BoxSet Page 47
