“Not at all,” he responded curtly. “You?”
“Nope, and that’s why now’s a good time to talk. I’m not suggesting we do a single thing differently about each other. I love you, Brian, but I can’t move. You can’t move either. So we’re long-distance significant others, stealing time when we can, until something changes. I’m not looking for anyone else, even a man to date casually, but I’m a red-blooded American just like you are. Sometime, somewhere a situation may come up where I’d like to have a drink with a guy, maybe even a dinner, and not feel like I’m cheating on you. I think we should see other people if we choose to. When we can figure out how to be together then that’ll be the best of all. For now, it sucks.”
Although her suggestion deeply disturbed Brian he hid his feelings. He said he agreed. “I doubt I’ll be doing that myself,” he had said, “but if something comes up then I’ll let you know.”
“Actually, I think it’s better we don’t do that. Telling me you’re going out is like salt in the wound, don’t you think? What we don’t know won’t make us sad or jealous or wistful. So I don’t think we should quiz each other. Let’s just work hard to be together as much as possible.”
“That’s all just great,” Brian had responded, his voice shaking. “You’ve just got this all figured out, don’t you? It’s kind of sad how easily this entire discussion went down for you. But I’m sure you were prepared for this little talk. Just like you always are in the courtroom. Never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. Right, Nicole? Isn’t that your strategy? Isn’t that what makes you a great lawyer?”
The rest of Brian’s trip to Dallas had been a strain on them. Since they began dating Nicole’s schedule had been rigorous and included long hours both in the office and with clients and lawyers away from work. It was part of her job and rising stars at Carter and Wells were expected to donate their personal time to corporate affairs. It was always frustrating when Brian was at home in New York and couldn’t reach Nicole but she explained that she muted her phone during business dinners. She had told him if there ever were something urgent to send her a text twice in one minute and she’d respond as soon as possible.
Now every time Brian couldn’t contact Nicole for hours after she’d left the office he had a nagging thought that her proposed plan had started. His mind played tricks – he saw her sitting in a bar in Highland Park Village having a drink with a new friend, or at a steakhouse in Addison sharing wine and dinner with someone who could eventually take Brian’s place in her bed…or her heart.
Chapter Twelve
Sunday
Ten days after the disappearance
The question of the fate of the missing American president went unanswered as days passed with absolutely no word. But another mystery could be kept under wraps no longer.
The Secretary of State sat in the Oval Office with President Harrison and Chief of Staff Bob Parker. The Secretary had received a call from his counterpart in Mexico, the Foreign Secretary. The three men listened to the recorded conversation.
“Mr. Secretary, I want to advise that we intend to release the story of the discovery at Palenque today. We regret that your President’s whereabouts are still unknown but our government feels after ten days it is deceptive if we continue to ignore the questions people are asking.”
Two days before the FBI had reluctantly concluded its search of the rooms deep inside the temple. Lacking permission from the Mexican authorities for an invasive search of the chambers’ walls and floors there was nothing more to be done. Once they left the Mexican government sent a team of archaeologists and scientists to examine the mysterious artifact that lay in the newly discovered room below King Pakal’s tomb. As more people saw the object it became impossible to keep it a secret. The Mexican government risked being accused of a cover-up if a press release wasn’t forthcoming quickly.
President Harrison thought for a moment about what the Secretary had told him. “Frankly I’m surprised they haven’t broken the story before now. I have no idea what that thing is down there – from the pictures I’ve seen it looks like some kind of strut to support something – but it definitely is in a place it shouldn’t be. Who would have buried what looks like a modern piece of metal deep inside a temple over five hundred years ago? And what the hell is it?”
“Sir, my understanding is the archaeologists intend to bring the artifact out of the temple and examine it in a laboratory environment. Up to this point, no one has been allowed to touch or move it. From the pictures it looks like it’s just sitting on the stone altar so theoretically it’d be no problem to bring it to the surface.”
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On the other side of the Atlantic Ocean Thomas Newton Torrance was having a late lunch in the restaurant of the Ritz Hotel on Piccadilly in the heart of London. He loved the ambiance of what many called the most beautiful dining experience in the world. And he enjoyed the service. As a very frequent guest and an extravagant tipper, TNT garnered the admiration and envy of staff and diners alike. His table by the window was always available for him. On the frequent occasion when the restaurant was full for lunch TNT’s venue was still held until last in the event he showed up without a reservation. One day he had strolled in when the restaurant was packed solid. Without batting an eyelash the maître d’ ushered TNT into the adjoining bar for a quick complimentary champagne while a party of four was summarily uprooted from TNT’s spot. A hastily erected table became the foursome’s new lunch venue. Although it was inconvenient the diners, who turned out to be American tourists, were thrilled once they heard whose table they had occupied. Everyone knew the name Thomas Newton Torrance, the bad boy billionaire. He was as well known as Donald Trump and the tourists had a great story for friends and family back home…plus a free three hundred dollar lunch compliments of the Ritz.
Torrance read The Evening Standard newspaper as he sipped a glass of his current favorite wine, Domaine Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet. At around $700 a bottle, each glass drained nearly $200 from Torrance’s net worth. But his various investments and corporate activities added far more than that every minute so things were fine for Thomas Newton Torrance and his penchant for the best of everything.
He felt a vibration in the inside pocket of his suit jacket and glanced surreptitiously at the screen without removing the phone. Cell phones were absolutely forbidden in the dining room. Even a guest of his caliber would be admonished for texting or even looking at the screen. A ringing phone would get you quickly ushered to the door, regardless of your status. It just wasn’t done.
He pushed his chair back and a waiter rushed over to assist. “I’ll be right back,” he said, heading to the lobby. The waiter brought a clean napkin and carefully folded it to await TNT’s return.
In the lobby outside the restaurant TNT looked at his phone. Two words had been texted – call me. He hit a number in his contacts list and soon heard the international ring tone. When the call connected, TNT listened to Cory Spencer for five minutes.
Torrance’s voice trembled. “That complicates matters. Say nothing to anyone about this – do you understand? I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” Torrance’s hands were visibly shaking as he ended the call. His heart was racing and he felt lightheaded. A porter in the hallway walked toward him to see if he was all right. TNT waved him off and paused to regain his composure.
Before returning to the restaurant he called his travel agent who as always dropped everything for her most important client. The commission on his first class tickets bought the agent a lavish lifestyle. Torrance booked a British Airways flight for the next day from London’s Heathrow Airport to Mexico City. He’d be there by late afternoon tomorrow.
As he finished lunch, Torrance reflected for a moment on the good old days when he could have caught the afternoon Concorde from London to New York, arriving in just over three hours instead of the usual six or seven, then connected anywhere he wished that same evening. He could have been in Mexico City tonight, but those t
imes were gone so he was forced to fly the slower way – albeit in first class. He could fly private, of course. He did that a lot but not for transatlantic flights. He had weighed the cost and convenience and even with money to burn he decided to burn it somewhere other than on jet fuel.
As he finished lunch, TNT made notes on a small pad he took from his pocket. The call from Cory Spencer in Palenque had given him three important pieces of information. The first was that the artifact was coming to the surface for examination – it was news Torrance was waiting to hear and it meant he had to get to Palenque as quickly as possible. Immediately.
The second bit of information was amazing – it made his heart race. Cory told Torrance there was more to see than just the artifact in its chamber. He had found something else. It was something that for years TNT had remotely considered might be possible but now perhaps it was true. The thought was so mind-boggling he could scarcely imagine how significant it could be to the entire world.
Cory had told him one last thing, something that had happened. The news was devastating. It could undermine everything Torrance had spent ten million dollars to accomplish. This news was so monumental that for once the brilliant Thomas Newton Torrance didn’t have any idea what to do. He hadn’t considered this possibility. He forced himself to put it aside for now. The time to deal with this was when he arrived in Mexico; there was nothing he could do from here and there were other things to handle first.
He needed to call Dr. Armando Ortiz at the Archaeological Institute in Mexico City, the man who was directing the plan to bring the artifact out of its chamber for examination. When that happened Torrance was going be present. He had paid ten million dollars to fund the Palenque project and the object had been found thanks to his donation. He had also personally ensured his new friend Dr. Ortiz had access to even more money both for his personal endeavors and for future digs – something Mexico desperately wanted.
In return for the financial assistance from Torrance, Dr. Ortiz had so far been extremely responsive to the entrepreneur’s requests. And this time would be no exception. TNT would be there to observe the artifact’s examination. Period.
The same way he had been in the chamber just after the artifact was discovered.
Thomas Newton Torrance was certain he would have access to everything the archaeologists knew. He just didn’t know yet how he would see what Cory Spencer had found – the strangest thing.
Chapter Thirteen
Monday
Eleven days after the disappearance
Thomas Newton Torrance jotted notes as he reclined in his first class seat. The British Airways flight would arrive in Mexico City in a little under four hours. From there he had arranged a twin Cessna turboprop to fly him to Palenque airport.
From the moment he heard Cory’s news Torrance had struggled with the information the dig supervisor had given him. With difficulty Torrance had maintained his composure and stifled first excitement then terror as he stood in the lobby of the Ritz listening to Cory’s revelations. The archaeologist had told him both a monumental secret and the single most amazing thing TNT had ever heard. It was also so far-fetched that Torrance had only dreamt it might be the answer to many mysteries. Now it seemed it was true!
But Cory’s bombshell changed all that. As he listened to Cory’s third revelation on the phone yesterday, TNT’s exhilaration had changed to fear, then hatred for the archaeologist, all in a matter of moments. Torrance forced himself to rationally think through the implications of Cory’s final disclosure. Why had the archaeologist waited ten days to explain to Torrance what happened the day the President disappeared? Torrance had been certain Cory knew something that day. Not only had President Chapman gone missing, Cory Spencer himself had been mysteriously absent for the entire day.
Why is this happening? My greatest triumph. Undoubtedly the most significant thing man has ever discovered on earth. Why is it all in jeopardy now? Torrance forced the negative thoughts out of his mind. He was experienced in the art of focusing on what was important – what he could control – and putting the rest aside.
The first thing TNT had to do was figure out how to get down into the chamber alone with Cory Spencer. Dr. Ortiz would be reticent but it would happen. Once he saw for himself what the dig leader had found Torrance could decide the next move. As long as Cory could be kept quiet the secret would remain hidden for as long as Torrance wanted. Unless someone else discovered the secret he’d come across. Or if Cory decided to break confidence. That would be unwise, Torrance thought idly. He wasn’t stupid enough to risk everything for such a move. I’ll kill him myself if this gets screwed up. That wouldn’t happen, of course. Thomas Newton Torrance never did his own dirty work. There were other people for those kinds of chores.
The entrepreneur sipped a glass of Bollinger champagne – not his favorite but not bad for an airline choice either. Why had Cory picked yesterday to tell Torrance what he knew? Had he just found all this out himself? Or had he known it for days? TNT had questions that needed answering – he would deal with this archaeologist face-to-face very soon.
Chapter Fourteen
Tuesday
Twelve days after the disappearance
In Palenque preparations were underway to bring the ancient artifact to the surface. With nothing to report about the missing leader for almost two weeks, the world had begun to lose interest. As dramatic as his disappearance had been, in an era of instant news people had started to move on to other things. If he were found then interest would revive. For now the subject had become yesterday’s news.
Now there was something interesting going on. Permission to televise the artifact’s removal had been granted to only two sources: Aguascalientes TV, the Mexican government’s network, and the US-based Fox News. Both had set up satellite trucks in the parking lot several hundred yards away. Commentators stood in the plaza between the Palace and the Temple of the Inscriptions.
This was a very exciting day for the world. Up to this point the government had allowed a drawing of the artifact to be released to the news agencies but no one had seen a real picture of it. Speculation abounded as to what it was. Everyone seemed to have a different opinion and a lot of people were anxious to see what it really looked like.
Thomas Newton Torrance had arrived in Palenque yesterday afternoon. He arranged for a driver to take him to the hotel his travel agent had recommended. Although he preferred the amenities of a luxury hotel chain, this place had pleasantly surprised him. The tiny boutique property was a refreshing change. It was situated in the jungle on the road to the ruins, had a decent wine list and tolerable food. He was satisfied with La Casa Hermosa.
Torrance had unsuccessfully tried to get in touch with Cory Spencer. The archaeologist didn’t answer his cellphone and wasn’t at the crew barracks, a structure that the government maintained not far from the archaeological grounds for the use of visiting dig teams. Angry at Spencer’s obvious avoidance, TNT decided to bide his time. Cory would turn up eventually.
And he did. In the room at the summit of the Temple of the Inscriptions three men stood while the news team waited for permission to scale the temple steps and join them. Dr. Ortiz, director of the National Institute of Archaeology and History, talked quietly with Cory. Standing next to them reading a message on his cell phone was Thomas Newton Torrance. Despite the jungle heat and humidity, Torrance was dressed in a tan three-piece linen suit and Hermes tie.
Torrance had first seen Cory when the entrepreneur arrived at the temple that morning. He pulled Spencer aside, roughly taking his arm. Cory jerked away.
“Where have you been?” TNT whispered angrily.
“Mr. Torrance, I didn’t know exactly when you were coming. I’ve been attending to several things. I hope you don’t think I was purposely avoiding you. Why would I do that? After all, if I hadn’t called, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
The archaeologist’s blasé attitude made Torrance furious. “Listen to me, you little…
” His voice rose slightly and Dr. Ortiz glanced over.
“Is everything all right, senores?”
“Of course,” Torrance replied. “We were just discussing the exciting things happening this morning.” He looked at Cory and whispered through clenched teeth, “I’ll deal with you later.”
Ortiz said, “All right, then. I think it’s time to start the program.”
The plan was for the Aguascalientes newscaster to go down the stone staircase to Pakal’s cramped tomb and shoot camera footage into the chamber below. Viewers everywhere would watch as two archaeologists wrapped the artifact and lifted it up to be carried to the top of the stairway. Fox would simultaneously pick up that camera footage from its vantage point outside the temple.
Everything began just fine. At exactly ten a.m. the team descended the stairway and the broadcast began. People around the world tuned in to the show. They followed the camera down the stone stairs until the sarcophagus of King Pakal came into view. All the protective covering had been removed so the viewers could see the remarkable coffin lid in its splendor. The strange drawing of the king lying on his back, hands on what some people thought looked like aircraft controls, added to the mystery of what lay below.
The newscasters spoke in Spanish and English as the camera recorded the archaeologists descending the ladder into the newly discovered chamber below Pakal’s tomb. They focused on the object itself. Its dented, mangled surface shone with a dull gleam as millions of people saw the eight-foot-long artifact for the first time. The reporters explained that although it had been underground for at least hundreds of years, the object appeared to be something modern. It was crumpled and damaged but looked like it could be a part from some current machine.
The two archaeologists stood on either side of the artifact and prepared to lift it for the first time. Cameras rolling, they put their gloved hands beneath the object and attempted to raise it up. Nothing happened. The object didn’t budge. It was as though it was bolted to the rock slab on which it lay. After ten minutes of trying they gave up.
Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries BoxSet Page 58
