The Frog Cypher: An Adventure Novel (Sam Harris Series Book 2)

by PJ Skinner

  Sam hesitated. She was not sure how to approach this subject but she wanted to know the truth. Had she done something wrong or not?

  ‘It’s Wilson,’ she said finally. ‘He tried to rape me.’ Seeing the alarm on Gloria’s face, she added, ‘Well, not rape me, exactly, assault me, I think. Well, I don’t really know…’ She trailed off, ashamed, and stared hard at the salt cellar in the shape of a chef with a big white hat. She could feel her face blazing with shame.

  Gloria looked shocked but only for a moment. She started to nod sagely.

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘In the jungle. He jumped on top of me without warning during the night.’

  ‘Euuuu. How nasty! How did you stop him?’

  ‘I punched him in the solar plexus.’

  ‘Good for you. That son of a bitch thinks he can have anyone.’

  ‘But Gloria, we are equals. We are both geologists. I don’t understand what I did to encourage him.’

  ‘Sam, are you really so innocent? Do you really imagine that Wilson thinks of you as an equal?’

  It had never occurred to Sam that she was less than human to some men because she was a woman. She shook her head.

  ‘Has he left you alone since?’ asked Gloria, concerned.

  ‘He has sent me a horrible pink cuddly toy and a card with hearts and flowers on it begging me for forgiveness. I’m pretty sure he knows I hate him. I’m so ignorant of the culture here. I don’t want it to happen again. I’m so worried that I’m responsible for it happening in some way,’ said Sam, in tears now. ‘Please, tell me the truth.’

  Gloria looked distressed. Her eyes filled with tears, too. She stood up and moved next to Sam on the banquette and gave her a tender hug.

  ‘You poor girl. That Wilson is a monster. He’s just afraid that Mike will hear about this and fire him. Have you told Mike yet?’

  ‘Yes, but he thinks I did something to provoke Wilson and he won’t do anything about it. I couldn’t persuade him.’

  ‘Typical man. I’m sure he’s wrong. I’ve heard things about Wilson you wouldn’t believe. I’m sure you didn’t provoke him, not on purpose anyway. That man would jump a giraffe.’

  Sam could not help smiling at the possibility.

  ‘So, Wilson is always a complete bastard?’

  Gloria smiled. ‘Always, chica. And that’s not all. I heard he frequents brothels and beats up the girls. He has a reputation as a violent drunk. There are rumours that he owes a lot of money around town.’

  ‘Does Mike know?’ asked Sam.

  ‘I don’t think so. But I promise to tell him as soon as I get the chance. I think Wilson has designs on Marta. That poor girl has no chance against his persistence and brand of full-on charm. You can count on me.’

  ‘Really? Are you sure I didn’t do anything provocative?’

  ‘Ha! Dressed like that? There isn’t a man in Sierramar who would think you were trying to attract him.’

  Sam took the verdict on her dress sense on the chin. knowing she was not a bit glamorous most of the time. Gloria’s ability to make her laugh at almost anything was the thing she liked most about her. She trusted her like no one else in Sierramar and knew she could count on her as a true friend. Feeling vindicated by Gloria’s reaction, she hoped Gloria would make Mike see sense. She would also make sure that she was never alone with Wilson again.

  ***

  Mike took advantage of being alone in the office to call Edward.

  Edward’s wife answered. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi Ophelia. It’s Mike Morton. Can I speak to Edward?’

  ‘I think he’s busy.’

  ‘He won’t be too busy to hear this.’

  ‘Mike, he’s busy.’

  ‘I don’t care how fucking busy he is. Tell him I need to speak to him now. It’s important.’

  ‘There’s no need to be rude. I’ll see if he can free himself.’

  There was a pause. Some muffled, cross-sounding voices were audible in the background. Mike could hear footsteps coming towards the telephone. He was relieved to hear that they were not made by high heels.

  ‘Mike? What’s so urgent?’

  ‘We’ve done it, mate. We’ve hit the fucking jackpot!’

  ‘What jackpot? How can you possibly know? Don’t we have to do lots of sampling and measuring? I thought that was why you hired Sam. She’s pretty expensive for a junior. I hope she was worth it.’

  Mike was confused for a moment, then he remembered. He had put a decent salary in the budget for Sam, which Edward was happy to pay at first. What he had not told Sam was that Edward had paid it. Mike knew how much Sam wanted the job and he needed the money more than she did. She was happy and he was happy. Why rock the boat?

  ‘Turns out she’s a fucking genius. She’s only gone and discovered a staircase that could lead to the lost treasure of the Incas.’

  ‘What the fuck is the lost treasure of the Incas? Aren’t we supposed to be opening a gold mine?’ muttered Edward, who could not keep up with Mike’s changing plans.

  ‘Grab a chair, mate, and pour yourself a large one, while I spin you a tale of Incas, murder, suicide and treasure.’

  ‘Now that sounds ludicrously exciting. Are you sure it’s not out of our league? Wait while I get my whisky and then you can tell me all about it.’

  X

  The revelation of the frog cypher on the Inca steps had been almost too much for Alfredo Vargas. He disappeared into his study for several days and emerged looking haggard with lack of sleep. Gloria tried to keep him fed. But her offerings were left to get cold or were eaten by Alfredo’s dog. He seemed to have lost all concept of time and regularly rang Mike in the early hours of the morning to discuss a new finding with him.

  ‘Mike, are you awake?’

  ‘Jesus, Alfredo, do you know what time it is?’

  ‘Mike, the frog cypher was used by the last Inca as one of his seals. It was a royal cypher.’

  ‘That’s great Alfredo. Now can I go back to sleep?’

  ‘But Mike, it’s a royal seal!’

  ‘Yes, you told me, and it still will be in the morning. Night Alfredo.’

  ***

  Edward had thrown off all pretence of diffidence. He was beside himself with excitement.

  ‘How much is that treasure worth, Mike? Millions? Billions?’

  ‘I have no idea. Enough to retire on, I hope.’

  ‘Do we have to share it with the government? What are the taxes? Can we smuggle it out?’

  ‘I think we should cross that bridge when we get there, Edward.’

  ‘Okay, but you need to let me know as soon as you get an idea of the value.’

  ‘Naturally, mate. You’ll be the first to know. By the way, I need another transfer. The salaries are due next week and I have to pay the quarterly rent too.’

  ‘No problem, mate. Ten thousand alright?’

  ‘Ten thousand would be perfect. Speak soon then, mate.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ***

  Sam and Gloria were left to their own devices much of the time. The only thing to do in Calderon apart from work was to party. There was a party every night for people in the right set and Gloria seemed to be in the know about most of them. A week before the next expedition to the jungle to search for the treasure, they went to a party in a hacienda outside Calderon. Mike was not pleased that he would miss out on the party due to a dinner with the British Consul. It was with bad grace that he waved them off.

  Sam and Gloria arrived at the party to find a large garden decked out with fairy lights and a good selection of drink placed around the house. They had a fine evening dancing, drinking and hanging out in the garden. At some time long after midnight, the party started to wind down. Even the hardened veterans of Calderon nightlife had finally given in to the combined excesses of drink and cocaine that formed the backbone of any decent fiesta in the capital. Some people were leaving. Others had crashed out where they were sitting, their necks at grotes
que angles on the low backed sofas. Everywhere, the full ashtrays leaked lipstick-stained cigarette butts onto tables and floors. Cut-crystal glasses glinted from under the plants on the veranda.

  Crickets deafened those who had ventured out into the starry, early morning. Sam sat on the stone steps amid the cacophony of competing insects. She had wanted to go for over two hours now but had been unable to persuade anyone to take her. Gloria was no help. She had been vomiting in the bathroom most of the evening and kept coming out to refill herself with the same fluids she had just expelled.

  Sam stood up in the garden in the moonlight and gauged her ability to balance on the wobbly garden steps. She staggered into the sitting room and went to look for Gloria. She was surprised to find her in the bathroom snorting cocaine with Alfredo, who had emerged from his self-imposed exile. He was fumbling with Gloria’s outer clothing in a way that suggested that he had never undressed a woman without help before. He looked at her shirt buttons with disgust and seemed to be contemplating ripping the blouse open. Gloria was oblivious. As usual, she was puffy-faced with large, damp circles of mascara around her eyes. There was vomit on her sleeve and her jeans had a big, red wine stain at the crotch.

  ‘Hello Gloria,’ said Sam. ‘Are you ready to go home yet?’

  Gloria was leaning against the wall and had temporarily lost control of her head, which was hanging from her neck like that of a strangled chicken. She twisted it enough to see who was talking and smiled malevolently.

  ‘Not yet, Sam. Just another half an hour.’

  This was what she had said every half hour for the last two hours. Sam knew her well enough now to be sure that Gloria was staying on to spite her. She developed a malicious streak when she drank. The more Sam wanted to go home, the less Gloria would feel like going.

  Sam had given up and was wandering around in the garden when Gloria appeared in the doorway and said, ‘So, let’s go, then.’ She spun on her heel and walked into the doorframe before staggering towards the front door.

  Sam was alarmed by her drunken state but could not bear to stay any longer. She would try to make sure they drove with care. Sam slipped out of the party and into the dark yard where Gloria was already backing out of her parking space. Sam realised that Alfredo had appeared in the front seat of the car as if by magic, so she slid into the back seat where she was enveloped in a cloud of whisky fumes and cigarette smoke. Gloria took a swig from a half bottle of scotch, which she dangled over her shoulder offering it to Sam. Sam refused as politely as she could. Gloria passed the bottle to Alfredo in the front seat. Grasping the bottle, he manoeuvred his seat into a supine position so that he could leer at Sam. He winked at her and gave her a lovely crinkly smile. He was the very definition of a caution. Sam could not help beaming back.

  ‘Me llamo Alfredo,’ he said, seemingly unaware that he knew Sam quite well.

  ‘Y yo Sam,’ she said and as an afterthought, ‘Seatbelts everyone.’ Gloria obeyed immediately as she was used to Sam’s bizarre obsession with seatbelt wearing. Alfredo fumbled with his in a confused manner.

  Gloria set off for Calderon and was soon shouting abuse of some sort at no discernible target. The car swerved alarmingly around the potholes on the rural road. Soon, it was rising up the s-bends that led up over the tops of the peaks that surrounded the main area of the city. There were a lot of roadworks near the top of the hills. The steepness of the terrain, the rape of the forests and the torrential rain had all contributed to constant landslides, which were apt to sweep the roads and houses away like a child knocking down a sandcastle at a beach. The present roadworks were a result of the old entry road disappearing down the valley, taking with it a couple of buses full of people during rush hour a few months before.

  Faced with the complex one-way system, Gloria’s driving became a little more measured. There were no streets lights. A power cut had plunged the valley into gloom, which was exacerbated by a morning fog. Alfredo was fast asleep, rocked in his seat by the constant cornering. The road became wider. Sam relaxed. There was not another car in sight. They were safe enough on this broad backroad into town. She gazed up at the vertical walls of rock lining the road and tried to spot orchids, a trick she often used when travelling in Gloria’s car at ludicrous speed. Gloria shit the brake for the next corner. The car did not slow down. She shouted ‘Jesus, the fucking brakes have gone!

  Gloria swerved to the left and threw the car into a lower gear. She fought the car around the corner but it started to skid. Sam grabbed the dashboard. She tried not to panic. They were going to crash. She braced herself for impact.

  The crash happened in slow motion. The car was thrown in the air and landed on its roof, which caved in on one side, almost knocking Sam out. The car spun elegantly across the highway and came to a stop on its roof in the darkness. For a moment, the silence was broken only by the car stereo. It was playing You’re So Vain by Carly Simon. Sam moved. She was not dead. She knew this because her arm hurt. Then she heard Gloria singing along to the radio as if nothing had happened. There was a pool of liquid growing in the roof of the car.

  Gloria giggled. ‘Are we dead?’

  Sam considered her answer with care before deciding on, ‘We’d better try and get out.’

  Gloria’s window was still open and her side of the car was not as flat as the passenger side. They managed to get out of their seatbelts and to lower themselves onto the roof of the car without incident. Gloria slipped outside though the window. Sam had to slide out over the front seat but also managed to emerge onto the road. They sat there dazed.

  Then Sam realised that they were missing someone., ‘Where’s Alfredo?’ she asked.

  ‘Jesus, I forgot,’ said Gloria. ‘Can you look inside the car? I’m too drunk.’

  Sam lay on her back and slid back into the car. She was concerned that the warm liquid might be petrol and was sure that it would explode like it always did in the movies. She reached up and switched off the stereo causing a yell of protest from Gloria. She switched on the internal light on the roof. In the small space between the erstwhile roof of the car and the passenger seat, she saw Alfredo’s jacket.

  He was still in the seat with his head hanging down toward the ground. She grabbed his collar and pulled hard. She could not move him. Then she realised that his seatbelt was on just as she had demanded. She was amazed at his compliance, since most men in Calderon took the wearing of a seatbelt as a challenge to their masculinity. She strained to release the catch. As it gave way, Alfredo fell down onto the roof head first. Sam knew that she must be quite drunk to have forgotten about gravity.

  The fall revived Alfredo, who had been asleep. ‘Shit,’ he said, ‘where are we?’ He struggled to right himself enough to see Sam, who was sprawled on the upturned roof. She offered him her hand. Then she pulled him with one hand, while she pushed herself out of the car with the other hand, backwards through the pooled whiskey onto the road. Alfredo had a wiry build and slid across the inside of the roof with surprising ease.

  When they emerged, Gloria was sitting on the road smoking a cigarette and fiddling with her shirt. She was trying to work out which button went into which hole, a task that appeared to be an insurmountable puzzle in her state. She was totally unconcerned by their situation and apparently unsurprised to find herself sitting in the middle of the road beside an upturned car at four o clock in the morning. Her heavily made-up face was screwed up in concentration as she tried to brush off the dust that had stuck to the blood on the material.

  Gloria was used to being in trouble. She was the only daughter of the eldest son of one of the most powerful families in Calderon. The younger generation were all protected from the realities of life in Sierramar by a cushion of almost limitless wealth. Gloria was prone to getting into trouble and experienced at using her position to extract herself from it.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Sam.

  ‘The brakes failed,’ said Gloria.

  ‘What are we going to do? We should not
ify the police.’

  ‘No, Sam. You must go now. I will deal with this. You cannot be here.’

  ‘But I can’t leave you here with Alfredo. There must be procedures that should be followed.’

  ‘Yes there are. But you cannot be here or, as a gringa, they’ll blame you and try to make you pay a lot of money because you’ve been drinking. I am the expert here, Sam. You have to trust me. You must go now, before it’s too late. I promise you it will be alright.’

  Alfredo nodded sagely, or maybe drunkenly. Sam was stunned.

  ‘But Gloria, it’s the middle of the night. Will you be safe?’

  ‘Sam, my father is a very powerful man in Calderon. I will be fine. You, on the other hand are a foreigner and a target for fines and corruption. You must leave now.’

  Gloria, who appeared to have sobered up in an instant, was adamant. She flagged down a passing cab.

  ‘Can you take this woman to 2256 Avenida Miranda please?

  ‘But she has been in an accident. I cannot take her. What will the police say?’

  ‘I am the daughter of Hernan Sanchez. He will be very angry if you do not do as I tell you.’

  ‘Senora Sanchez! I did not recognise you. Of course I will.’

  ‘Good man, take this for your trouble.’ Gloria gave him a twenty dollar bill, a fortune.

  , Sam got into the cab. The driver set off. Sam was in a state of shock. She could not believe that Gloria had managed to get her to leave. She did not understand why the driver had agreed to take her. Gloria had been very persuasive but Sam had not been able to understand what was said. Still, it was nice to know that someone was looking after her. She turned around in the back seat and looked back.

  Gloria was smoking a cigarette with Alfredo beside the upturned car. She looked perfectly calm and leaned in for a kiss.

  XI

  The next morning, Sam awoke with a start. The sun was forcing itself around her blinds and hurting her eyes. Dazed for a moment, she then remembered the crash but she was not sure if it had been a dream. She dragged herself into the shower. When the water flowed over her elbow, she yelped in pain. She saw that a big piece of skin was missing there. She felt the wound with her finger. It made her feel sick.