"You knew of the gold?" I asked.
"Everyone knew of the gold. The men from the company—the big men—had it. They took it from our country and sent it somewhere. They became very rich stealing from our country. Meanwhile, we all stayed poor. Many fights were started because of the gold."
"And the four men?" asked Sabrina.
"They asked many questions, especially one of them. I think he was the leader. He was always fighting with the man from the other country. But when they weren't around, Mikey asked questions. If he didn't get the answers he wanted, he beat people."
"Did he beat your father?" I asked.
"Yes." She stopped before saying anything else. There was more.
"Did he do something else?" asked Sabrina.
A tear rolled down her ancient face.
"Yes."
"To you?" asked Sabrina gently, touching Eva's hand. We all knew where this was going.
"Yes." We'd heard enough. There was no sense in subjecting her to anything further on that subject.
We gave her a few minutes to compose herself. Then I said, "I'm sorry we brought back all those memories."
She gave a wan smile. "It was a long time ago. It is part of life."
An amazing woman.
"Can I ask you another question about something different?"
She nodded.
"Did you ever hear from them something about eggs?"
Emil translated. She chuckled. The memories of the last few minutes tucked away.
"The eggs. I had forgotten about the eggs. The man from the other country and one of the four were very interested in eggs. They found them with the gold."
"Do you know what happened to them?"
"Not for sure. But I am guessing Mikey took them back to America."
Eva was getting tired.
"Can we ask you one more question?"
"Yes, then I must rest."
Sabrina pulled out her cell and brought up the picture. "Does this house look familiar?"
"Yes, I remember the gravestone. It was there for many years, but fell down in a storm a long time ago." She said something else to Emil, hopefully directions. They were.
"She told me where to look," he said. "It's not far from here."
*****
"So what's the deal with eggs?" asked Emil on our quest to dig up some gold.
"That's the other half of the equation," I answered. As we walked, we gave him the story of the eggs and the Russians. Along the way, he enlisted the aid of two men with shovels.
"Have you actually seen these Russians?" he asked.
"No," I replied, "but we know they exist. I have bullets in the side of my house to prove it, and we almost died getting here."
"I'm not questioning whether the men exist, just whether or not they are Russians."
"Based on Vlad, and the fact that he was working for another Russian, as well as Russia being the source of the eggs, we just assumed," said Sabrina.
"Also the fact that the Russian mob is known for its viciousness—at least in the movies they are," I added. Sounded kind of lame.
"Seems farfetched to me," said Emil. "Sort of like protectors of the Holy Grail being passed down from one generation to the next."
When he put it that way …
"So what are you thinking?" asked Sabrina.
"Something more modern. Closer to home."
"But who?" I asked. "Almost everyone who has come in contact with this case has been affected by these guys."
"Almost?"
"Us, Mario's men, Izzy, Russ Simpson …"
"How about the Flynns?" said Sabrina. "Izzy went to see them early on, but they gave no indication of having been threatened."
Our conversation was brought to an abrupt halt by the appearance of Mario and his men from inside a factory building we were passing.
"Shovels. That's a good sign," he said, sidling up to us. "Look," he said before we could respond, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll just keep following you. Let's just call a truce. If we find the gold, we can discuss the options then. If we don't, we'll all at least have a little more protection against those you call the Russians."
There was really nothing we could do. He was right. He wasn't about to let us out of his sight, so the show of force might dissuade the other guys.
"Fine, but don't try to screw us."
"I won't. My word is good."
Two minutes later Emil stopped.
"This is it," he announced.
It didn't look much like the painting. The scene in the painting was stark—one tree, one house, and the gravestone. In real life, eighty-five years later, the house was gone—well, almost. The foundation remained, but the walls were essentially gone, and what was left of the roof lay in the foundation. The gravestone was gone, and the one tree had become a dozen. If we hadn't been told by Eva that this was the place, we would have walked right by it.
"Where to start?" I asked.
"Do you think the mark would still be visible on the tree?" said Sabrina.
"Maybe. Let's start there."
Sabrina showed Mario and his men, as well as the two shovelers, the picture of the painting so they could see the tree.
"The famous painting," said Mario. "You were right, not much of a clue."
With many pairs of eyes, it didn't take long. It was one of Mario's men who found it. Much of the bark had grown around it, but there was no doubt about it, it was the tree in the painting. I suddenly had shivers down my spine. This was the very tree drawn by John. Eighty-five years ago, John stood in in this exact spot. All around him was the bustle of a town in all its short-lived glory. Now it was dead quiet. Could he have ever imagined that it would take so long for someone to return to the site? If he had known that, would he have bothered? Very surreal.
"Where do we dig?" asked Mario, breaking the silence.
"I guess we find the headstone. X marks the spot," I said.
The grass was about a foot high and there were various species of vegetation mixed in. Emil said something to one of the locals, who pulled out a machete from his belt and went to work on the area around the tree, hopefully making our search a bit easier. When he was done I took one of the shovels and carefully tapped the ground, hoping to hear the clank of metal hitting concrete.
Nobody said a word as I worked. At first I concentrated on the area indicated in the painting, but as time went by, my search area increased. Ten minutes passed with no clank. Then Emil asked the other local for his shovel and proceeded to tap the ground. Another ten minutes passed. Finally, Emil leaned on his shovel and held up his hand for me to stop.
"We're being too gentle."
"I didn't want to break the headstone," I said. "Not sure why."
"I can understand why," he answered. "Historically, this has great meaning for you. Having the headstone intact is important. But I just thought about what Eva said. She indicated that the headstone fell down a long time ago. So it's possible that it has years of dirt covering it. We need to be more aggressive. The shovels have to go deeper."
"Makes sense." I went back to my first search zone and pounded the shovel harder into the ground, in much the same way I would break up winter ice up north.
Within minutes I had success. When the clank came, I knew I had struck pay dirt—then again, maybe I just hit a rock.
Emil's local helpers took over, digging a wide hole to start and slowly going deeper once they had room to work. They uncovered the headstone almost immediately. They picked it up reverently and set it down at my feet. I knelt down and brushed it off, using my fingers to remove the dirt from the grooves of the RIP. The grooves weren't deep to begin with—John hadn't put a lot of work into it. The RIP was almost gone altogether. Once it was wiped off, I moved it away from the dig site.
I had to give John credit. He wasn't lazy. He dug his hole deep. A box about two-feet long, two feet deep, and a foot wide was settled about three feet from the surface. Once the box was cleared of dirt, the two sh
ovelers reached in to pull the box out. Nothing. It wouldn't budge.
"If that's full of gold," said Mario, "it's going to take more than two people to get it out."
It became a group effort. Using branches as levers and group muscle, we tried to extract it from its resting place. Unfortunately, the box was made of a thin metal, and it hadn't stood the test of time. As we moved the box, it began to crumble.
"We'll have to open it in the hole," I said.
I jumped down and, with a fair amount of ease, ripped the top off the box. I stood there staring. Finally, somebody had told the truth. It was packed tightly with gold bars. The bars were dirty, but there was no doubt that they were real.
We had all been holding our collective breath. I could hear the exhales.
"Well that's impressive," said Emil dryly.
"Kinda," I echoed.
We took turns in the hole passing out the bars. When we were done, we had a nice pile. One of the locals had gone for a wagon. I jumped back into the hole for a last look around. No eggs. I looked up at Sabrina. She didn't seem all that disappointed. She reached a hand in to help me up.
"Hey," she whispered. "Don't look so sad. We just solved an amazing mystery. We'll save the eggs for another day."
Then it hit me just how much she was right. What we had just accomplished was nothing short of amazing. However, the joy was short-lived.
The local with the wagon arrived a few minutes later. It was like a garden wagon, but slightly bigger—probably something they had used in the factory. Once it was stacked high with the gold, we began our journey back to Emil's house to figure out what to do with it.
Up to that point, we had been very aware of Mario and his men, but for a few minutes our attention was elsewhere. It was the moment Mario was waiting for. Unnoticed by the rest of us, they had fallen back a few steps and had fanned out behind us.
"New plan," announced Mario, stopping us dead in our tracks. I turned. All three had their guns out. "We're taking the gold down to the dock. You can help us fill our boat."
I was totally disgusted with myself. "You've got to be shitting me."
"Afraid not. I gave you the chance to split the gold, but you got all noble on me. So now you get nothing."
"I thought you didn't kill people," said Sabrina. She seemed very calm. But again, she was dealing with an element she had a lot of experience with.
"I lied." Seeing the doubt in her face, he said, "You are more than welcome to test it out."
We didn't need to. At that moment all hell broke loose.
Chapter 34
The first bullet took out the man to Mario's left. One moment he was pointing his gun at us and the next he was crumpled on the ground, half his face blown away. Nothing registered at first and no one moved. But when the second shot came and the goon to Mario's right went down, we all dove for cover. I landed on top of Sabrina behind the wagon.
In retrospect, I guess we knew this was how it was going to end. It began with violence, so of course it would have to end that way. For the longest time we thought the showdown was going to be with Mario. But when the realization hit that there was a third party involved—more dangerous by far than Mario—it became clear that they were going to be a force to reckon with. We had seen the results of their handiwork in the States, and their vicious attack on the river showed them to be dangerous and determined. The question was why? We still didn't know who they were, what they wanted, or where they came from. Mario's motivations were clear; he wanted the treasure. These people were different. Killing seemed to be their only goal.
But it was all moot now. Who cared what anyone's reasons were. All we were trying to do was to stay alive. Another shot rang out, and the bullet hit the wagon. More specifically, it clipped the corner of a bar of gold, showering us with little chunks of gold.
"I've got to move," said Sabrina from under me. I lifted my body enough for her to move, but not high enough to make myself a target. She squirmed a bit and finally broke free. Lying next to me, there was just enough cover from the wagon to keep us from being exposed to the shooter, or shooters.
"You okay?" I whispered to her.
"Ask me again if we live through this."
"Everyone okay?" I said in a louder voice.
"Okay here," announced Emil. I looked around. He was hiding behind a substantial rock with one of the locals. I could see the other local behind a crumbling house foundation. I couldn't see Mario.
"How about you, Mario?"
"I'm okay." I couldn't see him, but he was close by.
"I have an idea," I said. "Why don't you take a walk down the road. Then we can see where the shots are coming from."
"Fuck you."
"Just an idea."
"Nice that you can maintain your sense of humor," whispered Sabrina.
"Are you kidding? I'm scared to death. It's either that or I faint from fear. Besides, who said I was joking?"
Another shot came and hit the dirt in front of the wagon, pebbles exploding in my face. I reached up and, one by one, lifted down a few of the gold bars and stacked them in front of us under the wagon.
"Just a little extra protection," I explained.
Sabrina just nodded. She was busy trying to extract her revolver from her pants. Finally free, she checked to see that it was loaded.
"Good idea," I said, and grabbed my own. After all this time, I still wasn't used to it. We were in a bad spot and I wasn't sure how much help it was going to be, but it provided a little comfort.
Another shot, followed immediately by the roar of Emil's shotgun. I heard a scream from across the road.
"You got one," I exclaimed.
"I'm sure I just winged him," said Emil. "I think I'm too far for the shotgun to be very effective."
It wasn't. The shooter, angry now, let out a barrage of bullets from his automatic weapon toward Emil's hiding place. I could see Emil crouched behind the rock, covering his face. Sabrina nudged me and pointed. Five feet behind us was a ditch on the side of the road. It would offer much more protection than the wagon. I nodded. She counted down on her fingers from three. As she hit 'one', we rolled. As we rolled, two other shooters began their assault, the ground exploding around us.. We fell into the ditch and I asked Sabrina if she was okay.
"I am. You?"
"Yes." Not the total truth. I was bleeding from my upper arm and it hurt like the devil. I was either grazed by a bullet or by a rock kicked up by a bullet. I knew there wasn't a slug in me, but it didn't stop it from hurting.
The rain of bullets stopped.
"Give it up," called out a voice directly across the road from us, somewhere in the trees.
Well, that put to rest one theory. There was nothing Russian about that voice. It was as American as mine.
We all stayed silent. I looked back at Emil. He looked okay, but he must've been wondering at that point why in the world he got involved with us.
"Is that gold in the wagon?" the same person called out.
Silence.
"Let me put it a different way. I know you've got gold in the wagon. I'll make a deal with you. Walk away and leave the gold and you'll live."
"Keep him talking," whispered Sabrina. "I'll see if I can get a bead on him." She found a space between two small rocks at the top of the ditch and took aim into the woods on the other side of the road.
"If we try to walk away, you'll kill us," I called out.
"You have my word."
"Yeah, right."
"We don't have anything against you."
"Then why have you been trying to kill us?"
"Strictly business."
"What do you mean, 'strictly business'?"
"We were hired for a job. Simple as that. We were promised a lot of money. You give us the gold, that'll pay us a lot more than we would have gotten. In other words, give us the gold, we don't need you anymore. You can walk away."
"There are no eggs here." I figured his reaction would tell me something.
"Who's paying you?" I asked, trying a different tack.
"An interested party."
"Not good enough."
"I really don't think you are in a position to demand answers."
"I have some time on my hands."
"If …" Sabrina's gun went off. I rolled away a couple of feet. I would have liked to think it was the force of the blast that sent me rolling, but of course, that was impossible. It was just the natural reaction to having an explosion go off six inches from my ear. Hanging around with her, I was going to need a hearing aid mighty soon.
I rolled back, my ear ringing.
"Hit anything?" I asked.
"The speaker let out an 'umph' when I hit him. You didn't hear it?"
"My right ear was otherwise engaged."
I heard a muffled "shit" come from the woods. I couldn't tell if he was muffled or if my ear made it muffled. Either way, Sabrina had hit him. Sadly, it wasn't a kill shot.
"That was a mistake," came his voice, less muffled now.
I determined that we had three shooters, which matched up with what we saw on the river. Two of them were hurting and really pissed now.
There was no more talking. For the next fifteen minutes nothing was said from the other side of the road. Everyone seemed okay on our side—except for the two dead guys, of course. I hadn't yet located Mario though. Of little concern at this point.
Every once in a while a bullet would come flying our way, but we were all pretty well hidden.
It was a stand-off. We couldn't go anywhere. Beyond all of our hiding places was a fair amount of open space. If we tried to escape, we'd be mowed down in no time. On the other side of the road they could certainly leave if they wanted. They could always try to eliminate us a later. However, the lure of the gold was too strong. They knew that now would be the best time to get it. Once we reached the town and the boat, things would become more complicated.
No one was going anywhere.
They tried another volley of automatic weapon fire—ammunition must not have been a problem. Bullets spat all around us.
And then we heard different guns go off—guns that had a familiar ring. There were about six shots. We heard two men cry out in pain. It was followed my some moaning. And then a voice called out—a voice we knew—"Senhor Honeycutt, it is okay now."
All Lies Page 20
