Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries BoxSet

by Bill Thompson

  Because of the heat in southern Mexico, especially in the rain forest where the ruins of Palenque were situated, Brian had brought his jungle shirts and pants, rain-resistant boots and plenty of insect repellent.

  He forced himself to stop thinking about Nicole. This hadn’t been the best time to leave the gallery with things so busy but Brian had to admit he was excited about the trip. He missed the ruins and any opportunity to get back, especially flying free on a government Gulfstream, was fine with him.

  A large sign indicated the exit for Teterboro, one of the nation’s largest private airports. The car left the highway and pulled up to a secure chain-link fence with a rolling gate. Most people taking a flight from this airport parked outside a small terminal building and walked through a metal detector, then out to one of the private planes nearby. Not so Brian Sadler – credentials were presented to a guard at the gate and the FBI car was waved through. They drove directly to the gleaming white aircraft and Brian was soon in the air following the same flight plan that had taken President John Chapman to Mexico two weeks earlier.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thomas Newton Torrance was finishing breakfast on the terrace of La Casa Hermosa. Dr. Ortiz sat across from him, drinking a latte. He had just told TNT that the President of the United States was sending a personal representative to Palenque. In fact, the plane carrying that emissary would be landing at the local airport shortly. “I’ll need to leave in ten minutes or so. I presume the man, Senor Brian Sadler, is going straight to the ruins. I will need to be there to meet him as the official representative of the archaeological expedition.”

  TNT jerked his head up and looked at the archaeologist, astonished. “Brian Sadler? He’s the emissary from President Harrison?”

  Ortiz noticed Torrance’s surprise. “That’s what I’m told. The Ambassador said the man is an old friend of the President’s. He’s also a wealthy antiquities dealer from New York. I presume you know him?”

  TNT didn’t answer immediately. His face blanched as he thought through the implication of this. It was unbelievable! Could the President possibly know the connection between Sadler and Cory Spencer? Torrance didn’t believe in coincidences. Of course the President had to be aware that Spencer previously worked for Brian Sadler. There was no other answer. So for what reason did President Harrison send Sadler here?

  This could seriously complicate things.

  “Are you all right, Mr. Torrance?” Dr. Ortiz asked, noting the concern on his face.

  He quickly regained his composure. “Yes, yes. Sorry. I was just trying to recall where I’d heard Brian Sadler’s name. I don’t actually think I know him – do you?” As he talked Torrance reached inside his suit coat, pulled out a thick envelope and casually laid it on the table between them. Dr. Ortiz lit a cigarette and ignored the envelope. He enjoyed giving information to Mr. Torrance. The rewards were excellent.

  “I’ve never met Senor Sadler although I have of course heard of him. He is highly respected as a dealer in very rare objects and has a famous gallery in New York City. He also apparently fancies himself an amateur archaeologist. I’m not sure what his credentials are or why the President is sending him. I suppose it’s just to gather facts; I am not aware if Senor Sadler has any education in archaeology or detective work. In fact I know of nothing that would particularly qualify him to be involved. But this matter is not in my hands and is really of no concern to me. El Presidente of our country has given the approval for Senor Sadler to make inquiries on behalf of el Presidente Harrison. And I must live with that. You must as well, Mr. Torrance. I for one will welcome him on behalf of my country!”

  Torrance looked impassively at Dr. Ortiz. What an idiot. He’s treating this whole thing like it’s a social visit. He has no idea the danger we may all be in as a result of this man’s imminent arrival.

  “We will all welcome him,” the entrepreneur replied cordially, his voice belying his seething anger. Why must I tolerate these stupid people?

  Torrance continued. “I’ll see you in the morning back at the site. I want to talk to Brian Sadler so let me know as soon as you find out what his plans are.”

  Dr. Ortiz nodded as he nonchalantly picked up the bulky envelope from the table. He stood, shook hands with TNT and left the hotel.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Gulfstream carrying Brian Sadler landed smoothly at Palenque Airport and the ragtag bunch of children swarmed it again, just as when President Chapman had arrived a fortnight earlier. The same little boy retrieved the same cellphone from his pocket, pressed one button and turned it off. He hoped the gringos would continue to come to Mexico. He was happy making twenty pesos every time someone arrived.

  As he finished breakfast at the hotel Thomas Newton Torrance’s iPhone dinged and he glanced at it briefly. There was no message but he knew that Brian Sadler had landed in Palenque. As he placed the phone back in his jacket pocket it dinged again. This was a text message from Dr. Ortiz.

  Torrance read the text then sat back in his chair, concerned even more. Interesting. Brian Sadler will be staying at this very hotel. I’m not a bit surprised and actually it makes it easier to keep an eye on him.

  Although La Casa Hermosa was the nicest in the area it was only one of several hotels the U.S. government could have chosen for Brian’s stay. TNT ticked off various reasons as to why they might want Sadler at Torrance’s hotel. Which they obviously did.

  Brian Sadler rode in a Nissan Pathfinder that belonged to the Embassy. The driver introduced himself and showed Brian his FBI badge and identification. “This is for you, sir,” he said, handing Brian a thick folder. “I’ll take you to your hotel first, then to the ruins. It’ll only take about twenty minutes for this first leg.”

  Brian’s phone vibrated – he saw a text from a foreign number he didn’t recognize. The message read, “This is the Cultural Affairs office of the United States Embassy in Mexico City. The White House has advised that your hotel arrangements have been changed to allow you to stay in the same hotel as Mr. Torrance.” Interesting. That might be helpful in trying to arrange a meeting with him.

  The file the driver had given him contained around fifty pages of material. There was a report, several photographs, an aerial shot of the Palenque ruin site and copies of several web pages. He glanced at the report, which was basically a briefing document with headers and subcategories. The document covered a variety of subjects including the discovery of the artifact, information about Torrance and the disappearance of the President. I’ll read this tonight, Brian said to himself. He wanted to go to the ruins as soon as possible so there wasn’t time to go over this material now.

  Shortly they turned off the highway onto a narrow road leading into the jungle. The driver parked in front of a building that had been constructed to resemble a Mayan temple. A small sign in front read “Hotel La Casa Hermosa”. The driver parked and Brian got out to the sound of birds noisily cawing in the high trees surrounding the hotel grounds. It was an idyllic setting. Brian thought how much Nicole would love this place.

  The FBI agent spoke briefly in Spanish with the desk clerk who handed him a key card. He said, “Mr. Sadler, if you’d like to drop your bags in your room I’ll handle the check-in process.” They agreed to meet back in the lobby in twenty minutes.

  Brian walked down a path from the reception area. He glanced to the left as he passed the terrace of an outdoor restaurant. At this time of day only one guest lingered over breakfast. He was dressed in a coat and tie, unusual for the jungle, Brian mused as he continued walking. The hotel was in a beautiful setting in the forest; it consisted of eight detached rooms down a short pathway from the main building. He reached his cabana, unpacked his suitcase and walked out onto a small back patio that overlooked the jungle. It had a low fence to keep out the crawling things that might slither in from the forest just a few feet away.

  As he paused a moment to take in the scenery something clicked in his mind. Torrance. That’s the guy in the
restaurant. Suddenly his cellphone rang. He glanced at the screen. Nicole. “Hey, sweetie.”

  “Hey, sweetie yourself! Sorry I missed your call earlier. I was in a deposition. Now we’re on a quick break so I thought I’d see if I could catch you. Did you get there OK?”

  “Yes, I’m at the hotel in Palenque and we’re heading over to the ruins in a few minutes. I wanted to talk to you about last night, Nicole…”

  “Brian, we need to talk when we both have time. You have stuff to do right now and so do I. Let’s talk this evening – I should be at home by seven. Want to give me a call or should I call you?”

  “Just call me,” Brian responded, disappointed at yet another wait. “I’m sure I’ll have less going on tonight than you do. I don’t know my schedule for today but I’ll try to be available at seven. If I don’t answer then I’ll call you back when I can.”

  “Seven on the dot, baby. One thing before I go. Everything’s OK, Brian. Don’t overanalyze things. I love you and I want to be with you whenever I can, just like you told me the other night that you do too. Don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

  Brian stuck his phone in his pocket, put the briefing folder in a dresser drawer and walked toward the main building. He had to put Nicole out of his mind right now and concentrate on why he was here. He needed to figure out what happened to President Chapman.

  The sun’s harsh glare made it difficult for Brian’s eyes to adjust to the shaded dining area where the man had sat at breakfast. He looked around the terrace – the only person there was a waiter cleaning up the table where the man had been.

  Brian was looking so intently at the patio to his left that he failed to see Torrance come around the corner.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Sadler!” Torrance stepped quickly to one side, narrowly avoiding a collision.

  “Oh, sorry. I was…” He looked up, at a loss for words. “Uh, have we…have we met?”

  “No, but I know you by reputation. My name is Thomas Newton Torrance. Call me Thomas, please. May I call you Brian?”

  “Of course. Are you staying here?”

  TNT smiled broadly. “Please, Brian. I’m certain the United States government, as good as they are at gathering information, has already told you I was here. But I’m more interested in you – what in the world brings you to Chiapas state? Which of the Palenque mysteries are you here to investigate?”

  The FBI agent strode briskly down the path toward the men, glancing at his watch. He was obviously coming to check on Brian’s whereabouts. He saw them talking, then stopped.

  “I’ll only be a moment,” Brian said to him. The agent turned and went back to the lobby.

  “Is that your keeper?” Torrance smiled. “We all have one at times, I’m afraid. Right now I suppose mine is Dr. Ortiz from the National Institute. Have you met him?”

  “I haven’t. Maybe you can introduce us later. I’m sorry, Thomas, but I have to go. I’m on a fairly tight schedule this afternoon. If things work out we could meet up for a drink later this evening.”

  “That would be good. I’ll be happy to share with you what I know about the Palenque expedition so far. Unfortunately I don’t think it’ll be of any help in finding President Chapman, which I presume is what you’re here for.”

  Brian avoided the statement. “See you later this evening,” he responded, shaking hands with Torrance. He turned, walked to the lobby and met the FBI agent.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thursday

  The day of the disappearance

  President John Chapman descended the stone staircase inside the Temple of the Inscriptions. One of the Secret Service agents had set his watch to mark the fifteen minutes alone that the boss had demanded. If he didn’t return on time they would come after him.

  At the bottom of the stairs the President stepped into King Pakal’s tomb chamber. He had visited this place twice before but this time it was different. He glanced at the heavily covered sarcophagus then skirted around it to the newly opened hole in the floor. A ladder was sticking out. As eager as a schoolboy, Chapman climbed down into the chamber below and flipped on the flashlight Dr. Ortiz had given him.

  “What the hell?” he said out loud as he looked at the metallic object lying on a stone altar in front of him. “What is this thing?” Chapman thought it looked like a piece of a very large model airplane.

  As he reached out his hand to touch the artifact a voice behind him said, “Mr. President, I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Wednesday

  Thirteen days after the disappearance

  The government SUV pulled into the parking area at the Palenque ruins. Brian Sadler saw a rotund man in jungle attire and a pith helmet, sweating profusely as he approached the vehicle.

  “Buenas tardes, buenas tardes, Senor Sadler! I am Dr. Armando Ortiz,” the man said enthusiastically as Brian got out of the back seat with his backpack. “On behalf of the government of Mexico may I welcome you to my site here at Palenque!”

  Brian shook Ortiz’s hand and thanked him for his personal involvement in Brian’s visit. “I know how busy you must be and I appreciate your coming here today.”

  “Oh yes, I am a very busy man but I am also at your service, Senor Sadler, for the time you are here. And how long will that be?” he asked casually.

  “I’m not certain, Dr. Ortiz. It may be several days, depending on how things turn out.”

  “I was wondering, Senor Sadler, what you would be most interested in seeing while you are at the site? Those of us here are not certain of the purpose of your visit.”

  Brian chose his words carefully. “It’s just a fact-finding mission, you might say. President Harrison asked me to be an extra set of eyes and ears for him. I know everything possible has been done to solve the mystery of President Chapman’s disappearance. I’m sure I’ll just be confirming what your government and ours already know, which unfortunately isn’t much.” He smiled at Ortiz. “Is the Sussex University dig supervisor here?”

  Ortiz looked surprised. “Cory Spencer? No, Senor Sadler. Do you wish to interview him? I think he is at the barracks where the team is living here at Palenque. Shall I call him to come over?”

  “Please.”

  The three of them, Ortiz, Sadler and the FBI agent, walked on the trail through tall trees toward the Temple of the Inscriptions as Ortiz texted on his phone. “Senor Spencer will be at the temple shortly,” he reported to the group.

  Standing in the plaza between the Palace and the Temple, Brian Sadler stopped for a moment to take in the beautiful setting. He loved this place. He had last been here a few years back and was captivated by the tranquility of this majestic city. High trees cast shadows on the ancient buildings built long ago by a mysterious civilization that had somehow mastered complex architecture eerily similar to the Egyptians on the other side of the world. The Mayans had placed hundred-ton stones eighty feet in the air atop a massive temple complex. How had these simple people, living in a primitive jungle environment, accomplished it? Who taught them how to create massive buildings that would require heavy machinery if they were erected today?

  Every time Brian saw the incredible edifices these people had built the same questions came into his mind. And every time he wondered what the answers really were. Hundreds of books had been written postulating every theory imaginable. On the surface some were incredibly farfetched but then again, were they really? Brian had often thought about the ancient alien theory – the idea that an advanced extraterrestrial civilization brought science, architecture, construction techniques and much more to primitive societies around the world. Was that really crazier than the conclusion “normal” people believed? Did these Indians, living in hundreds of square miles of forest a thousand years ago, just somehow build these massive cities all over the place? Buildings that stretch to the heavens today, all built with hand tools? Hundred-ton stones carved and laid so perfectly in a wall eighty feet above the
ground that you can’t put a piece of paper in the seams between them?

  Lost in reverie, he jumped when he heard, “Brian! Wow! Good to see you!”

  Cory Spencer ran toward Brian and hugged him. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of years! What are you doing here?”

  Dr. Ortiz moved closer, surprised at the friendship these two men obviously shared. He watched them intently.

  “It’s OK.” Brian slapped Cory on the shoulder. “I’m from the government and I’m here to help you!” They both laughed.

  “You’re the emissary from President Harrison? I, uh, I thought maybe he would send someone with…”

  Brian interrupted, grinning. “You dare to doubt my credentials as an archaeologist and a sleuth? I don’t blame you. Don’t ask me why the President chose me to come down. But he asked and I accepted and here I am. So I’ll do my best. Listen, I want to catch up with you but we can’t keep Dr. Ortiz waiting while we rehash your wonderful days at Bijan Rarities. Let’s meet for breakfast in the morning. Say eight a.m.? Dr. Ortiz, am I free at eight tomorrow?”

  “Whatever you wish, Senor Sadler,” the archaeologist said more tersely than he intended. Covering himself, he smiled. “Your schedule is in your hands. I am merely your facilitator.” He watched and listened as the men chatted.

  “Great. Then I’ll see you at eight, Cory. I’m at La Casa Hermosa.”

  Cory’s concern showed in his eyes for a second. “You are? Uh, I think our backer Thomas Newton Torrance is staying there too. Do you know him?”

  “We met less than an hour ago. I’ll be seeing him later this evening.”

  Spencer’s entire demeanor changed. He was no longer the jovial guy he had been and a cloud came over his face. He was suddenly serious and his voice broke slightly. “OK, Brian. I’m glad you’re here. Really glad. I…I need to talk to you and…you know, catch up like you said.” He stammered as though he had said too much.