The Lucifer Gospel
Page 28
Nothing had been heard about Adamson’s own disappearance and demise beyond a press release that said the billionaire businessman had been lost during a sandstorm at the Libyan dig. There had been no mention of the Lucifer Gospel or Finn and Hilts’s involvement with its discovery. According to her friend Michael Valentine in New York, their involvement with the death of Vergadora in Italy had been put down to a case of mistaken identity and forgotten. Hilts of course was positive that Mickey Hearts’s Italian connections had something to do with the whitewash.
“Hey,” said Hilts, joining her at the rail. “You about ready?”
“Just about,” she said and nodded, smiling.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” asked her friend, a look of concern on his handsome face. His eyes were hidden behind the amber lenses of his sunglasses, but he was frowning. “We’re talking about an incredibly valuable historic artifact.”
“Devereaux was right,” she said quietly. “For the Gospel or any part of it to fall into anybody’s hands would be the wrong hands.” Behind her a twelve-year-old in a bikini was trying to climb onto a surfboard on the machine-made roller in the pool behind her. It sounded like a washing machine coming alive. “Some secrets should remain secrets, some mysteries should remain mysterious.”
“Then why did he give it to you?” asked Hilts.
“To give me the choice. To give me the chance to do the right thing.” She shrugged. “Maybe to let someone else make the final decision.”
“That makes you the Last Keeper,” said Hilts.
Finn took the scroll, bound in leather with its gold chain around it, out of her bag. She held it in her hand tightly for a moment and then with a single, rushing movement she pitched the bundle as far as she could out into the air. Together they watched as it arced through the bright morning air, then finally hit the surface of the emerald sea and vanished beneath the waves.
“Not anymore,” she said at last. “Not anymore.”