She smiled, impressed by the question. “Although de Rohan had negotiated the agreement with Paul the First, de Rohan passed away before the treaty was signed, so it was Hompesch, his successor as grand master, who actually ratified the deal.”
Jones had figured as much. “So starting in 1797 AD, Malta and Russia are officially tied together with this deal, and more significantly, Hompesch and Paul the First are tied together as well. I think that’s something we need to keep in mind when we discuss Jarkko’s letter.”
“Why’s that?” Jarkko asked.
“Because Hompesch’s surrender to the French meant that Paul had failed to do his job. He had failed to protect Malta in its time of need. Unless, of course, he knew about Hompesch’s plan all along. In which case, all is forgiven.”
Jones shifted his gaze to Marissa. “After the fall of Malta in 1798, how was Paul treated by the Order? Did they shun him like Hompesch?”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “Quite the opposite. Not only didn’t they shun Paul the First, they actually elected him as the new grand master of the Knights.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Before Jones could ask the hundreds of questions that were surging through his brain, Payne’s cell phone started to vibrate. He glanced at its screen to silence it but decided to take the call instead when he saw who was on the line.
“Hold that thought,” he said to Jones. “It’s Petr.”
Payne excused himself and walked away from the group to avoid being rude. He hated it when someone answered a call at a crowded table, forcing everyone around them to either talk over the phone conversation or sit there quietly while waiting for the call to end. In a world full of social-conscious millennials that would stage protests over the slightest insults, he couldn’t believe the lack of manners that existed in society today.
“Hang on,” Payne said as he answered Ulster’s call. He opened the sliding glass door at the back of the boat and took a seat at the table where he had devoured his brunch. From there, he saw nothing but the turquoise water of the Mediterranean. “Sorry about that.”
“Jonathon?” Ulster mumbled, confused. “Can you see me? Because I can’t see you.”
Payne pulled the phone from his ear and glanced at his screen. It was filled with Ulster’s full name and several digital buttons, but that was all. He laughed to himself before he returned the phone to his ear. “Petr, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the reason we can’t see each other is because you didn’t make a video call.”
“I didn’t?” Ulster blurted before laughing at his own mistake. “Jonathon, my boy, promise me that you won’t tell David about this blunder. No need to prolong my embarrassment.”
“No worries, Petr. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Great! See you soon!”
Then without warning, Ulster hung up his phone.
“Petr?” Payne said when he heard the click. “Are you there?”
Payne glanced at his screen and laughed when he realized what Ulster had done. In a weird way, it made him love the man even more. Despite having a mastery of human history, Ulster often struggled with the modern world and his place in it. Although he was smart enough to realize that he would be left behind if he didn’t adapt his life and business to the technological age, he frequently encountered bumps along the way.
Payne realized as much and assisted whenever he could, literally building customized technology at Payne Industries and donating it the Archives. The equipment helped Ulster’s staff of academics and interns scan the millions of pages of history that were being protected in the vaults at Küsendorf and upload them to a digital cloud that was set to go public in the near future. Payne had also hired a bunch of elite coders, handpicked by Randy Raskin, to develop software that would translate ancient languages and dialects into modern ones.
Software that Payne and Jones had used on prior adventures.
And yet, there was only so much he could do with Ulster himself. The phone that Ulster had called on was another piece of Payne Industries tech. Built with secured communications in mind, it was the same model that Payne and Jones carried. Payne had personally taught Ulster how to use the device when he had given it to his friend as a birthday gift, but Ulster’s tendency to lose himself in thought and bumble in the real world was one glitch that software wouldn’t fix.
Not that Payne would ever want to.
Bumbling was part of Ulster’s unique charm.
Payne grinned when his phone vibrated again. This time it was an actual video call. So either Ulster had figured out which button to push or his butler Winston had done it for him. Either way, Payne touched his screen and accepted Ulster’s call.
“Much better!” Ulster pronounced as he stared from Payne’s phone.
“Indeed it is,” Payne replied. “How are things at the Archives?”
Ulster smiled. “I wouldn’t know, because I’m not there.”
“Really?” Payne said, half-surprised. “It normally takes a special occasion to drag you out of the comfort of your reading rooms. Where are you headed?”
Ulster shook his head. “Instead of supplying you with that morsel of information, I thought perhaps we could have round two of yesterday’s guessing game. I’m sure you can remember that I deduced Birgu as your location, and I’d like to see you do the same.”
“Petr,” Payne said, “I appreciate the opportunity to even the score, but I’m rather busy at the moment. Besides, I don’t possess your keen observational skills or your encyclopedic knowledge of geography. Truth be told, I’m sure my guesses would only disappoint you in the end.”
“Nonsense!” Ulster said dismissively. “You could never disappoint me. I certainly hope you realize that by now. Furthermore, my current location is somewhere that you’ve been rather recently. I’m confident that you’ll figure it out if you follow my breadcrumbs.”
“Fine!” Payne said with a laugh. No matter how hard he tried, he always fell for Ulster’s boyish charm. It was like being friends with a really smart toddler. “I’m glad that you’ve decided to take it easy on me. Otherwise, I’m sure I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Okay, Jonathon. I’m starting the clock,” Ulster announced. “Where am I?”
Payne stared at his phone, but the video image didn’t change. All he could see was Ulster’s grinning face. “You’re on my screen.”
“I know I’m on your screen, but where am I on your screen?”
Payne shook his head. “No, Petr, I mean I can only see you. For this to work, you need to take the phone away from your face and show me your surroundings.”
“But if I do that, how will I know what you’re guessing?”
“By my voice. You’ll still be able to hear me like a speakerphone.”
“Ah, yes! Of course! How silly of me!” Ulster lowered his voice to a whisper. “Once again, I must insist that you don’t tell David, or else—”
“Hold up. Why are you so scared of DJ? Has he been bullying you?”
“No, certainly not,” he said with a shake of his head. “The truth is I get the feeling that I’m something of an intellectual mentor of his, and if he hears about my occasional lapse of common sense, it might shatter the delicate pedestal that he has placed me on. And the last thing I would want to do is ruin the heroic image of me that is engrained in his psyche.”
“Hang on,” Payne managed to say before he hit the mute button and turned his phone toward the Mediterranean. Then he exploded with laughter. He laughed so loud and so long that Jones threw his shoe at the window behind Payne’s head in order to get him to shut up.
Payne wiped the tears from his eyes before he hit the unmute button and turned the camera phone back toward himself. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries,” Ulster said with a grin. “I actually enjoyed the intermission. Out of curiosity, does my phone have the same screensaver as yours? I’m hoping it does, because it was rather lovely. It was so realistic that I felt like I was actually th
ere.”
“Sorry, Petr, that wasn’t a screensaver. That was actually a live video feed. Right now I’m on Jarkko’s yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean.”
“Oh dear,” Ulster muttered as his face flushed with embarrassment. “I certainly hope that you’re still near Malta. Otherwise, this will be something else to keep from David. And Winston. And the rest of my household staff.”
Payne furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out why Ulster was getting so worked up, and then it hit him like a lightning bulb. All along, Ulster had been giving him clues about his location in order to make it easier on Payne:
I deduced Birgu, and I’d like to see you do the same.
My current location is somewhere that you’ve been recently.
I’m confident that you’ll figure it out if you follow my breadcrumbs.
Suddenly, Payne felt like the detective character in The Usual Suspects who worked out the identity of the villain by using all the clues in plain sight.
Payne groaned. “Please tell me you aren’t in Birgu.”
Ulster nodded and forced a grin. “Surprise!”
Payne took a deep breath. “Petr, please don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here? You should’ve called first.”
“Well, truth be told, when you didn’t call or text to let me know how your meeting went with Marissa, I naturally assumed that it went poorly and you were too disappointed to tell me. After an evening of little rest where I spent half of my night worrying about letting you down and the other half imagining what type of treasure that Grand Master Hompesch was hiding—and if I’m being totally honest, the third half devouring an entire fruit torte that my chef had made with exotic delicacies like mango, papaya, and kiwi. He topped it off with hand-whipped cream that contained the slightest hint of almond extract that somehow brought out the natural flavor of the fruit. I’m not quite sure what possessed him to be so bold on a weeknight. Normally his mid-week desserts are—”
“Petr!” Payne blurted to cut him off, but it hardly slowed him down.
“Actually,” Ulster said with a laugh, “now that I’ve said it aloud, his dessert choice makes perfect sense. He must have heard that I was working with my Chinese collection in the Forbidden Room—a name that still makes me chuckle—and he decided to test my puzzle-solving brain, as I encourage my staff to do. Of course you know in some cultures ‘kiwi fruit’ is actually called ‘Chinese gooseberries’—which, if I’m still being honest, is another word that makes me giggle. Say it with me, Jonathon: gooseberries. Too funny!”
“Petr!” Payne repeated, this time a little louder.
“Anyway, as I was saying before my stomach got in the way, my restless night inspired me to leave the cocoon of safety that I have woven around myself in the confines of the Archives for the open water and fresh air of a new adventure. As you certainly know, I rarely head out into the field unless I am surrounded by people I like and trust, and I can’t think of two people I would rather spend time with than you and David. I don’t mean to embarrass you when I say this, but while I was preparing our exhibition for the Smithsonian, I found myself missing the adrenaline-fueled escapades that we have shared in the past. So much, in fact, that I caught the first and only flight from Switzerland to Malta in order provide my expertise on your latest mission. Of course, I realize that just showing up was a trifle bold on my part, but I can assure you that my massive belly is dwarfed by my historical expertise, even after last evening’s dessert. Speaking of desserts, have you ever had a trifle? It’s a delightful mix of sponge cake and—”
“Petr!” Payne shouted, loud enough to stop Ulster’s momentum.
“Sorry, my boy, was I rambling again?”
Payne nodded without words, if only to figure out what he wanted to say. As much as he would love to have Ulster’s expertise at his disposal, he realized that Ulster was more of a liability than Marissa when it came to future attacks. At least she had the ability to run and jump and load a weapon—something he still needed to ask her about—whereas Ulster’s main exercise came from opening his refrigerator door.
“Petr,” Payne explained, “the reason I didn’t call you yesterday about our meeting with Marissa is because we were attacked at the library by a group of Russian gunmen. We’re all fine, but we’re still trying to sort through the mess.”
“Oh my heavens!” Ulster said as absorbed the news. “Don’t ask me how, but I knew—simply knew—that you were wading into trouble. I warned you, Jonathon. Didn’t I warn you?”
“You did, Petr, but—”
“And everyone’s okay?”
“Yes, Petr. A little banged up, but—”
“Including Marissa?”
“Yes, Petr, including Marissa.”
Ulster breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, thank heavens for that. Since I was the one who had arranged the meeting, I don’t know what I would have done if harm had befallen her. If I may be so bold, where are you right now?”
“About a mile offshore. We decided it would be best if we stayed away from people while we figured out our next move. Out here, we can see potential threats on the horizon.”
“But you feel you’re currently safe?”
Payne nodded. “I do. I definitely do.”
“Good! Then swing into the harbor and pick me up, and we can return to your current locale. If you’re merely a mile offshore, we can be back to safety within an hour.”
“Petr, as much as I’d love to have you, I don’t think you understand—”
“No, Jonathon, it’s you who doesn’t understand.” Unlike his playful tone from earlier, Ulster’s voice now possessed an edge that Payne was unaccustomed to hearing. “As far as I’m concerned, you have a decision to make. Either your yacht is safe or it isn’t. Right now, that’s all that matters to me. If it is secure, then swing by Birgu or wherever you’d like me to go, and pick me up so I can assist you with your grand adventure. Although Marissa is an expert on Maltese history, I can assure you that her knowledge pales in comparison to mine on all things Russian, and that expertise will most definitely come in handy with Catherine the Great, Paul the First, and all of the other pieces in your historical puzzle. On the other hand, if you feel your yacht isn’t safe from Russian gunmen, then I must insist that you drop off Marissa at once. I will happily take her back to the Archives where we can help you via mobile device while under the protection of armed guards.”
“Petr, it isn’t that simple.”
“Actually, Jonathon, it is. As far as I’m concerned, those are your choices. Pick one, or risk losing me as an asset.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Although Payne didn’t like Ulster’s ultimatum on multiple levels, he realized that Ulster was correct. If the sea was safe enough for Marissa, then it was safe enough for Ulster.
After all, how much running could they do on a yacht?
And yet, Payne didn’t want to risk going into the busy harbor in the middle of the afternoon to get him. In his mind, there were far too many boats to adequately defend themselves against possible threats, so he told Ulster to take a cab to the Corinthia Hotel where they would pick him up in the relative seclusion of St. George’s Bay.
Upon his arrival, Ulster was directed to the rear wharf by a member of the hotel staff, who also assisted with Ulster’s luggage. Unlike Payne and Jones, who hopped onto a plane with nothing but the clothes on their backs, Ulster brought more than enough bags for everyone, including two that were filled with nothing but snacks.
Despite the tension during their video call, Payne was happy to see Ulster when they pulled near shore. In fact, all of them were. There was just something about the way he carried himself that put people at ease, which was highly ironic since he was the biggest introvert of the group. Until Payne and Jones’s first trip to Küsendorf, Ulster had rarely ventured from the Archives. Every year he would force himself to attend a fancy gala or two in order to raise money for a new museum or library, but other that, he
simply preferred to stay at home and work.
But their adventure across Europe—during which they had found out the truth about the crucifixion of Christ—had opened his eyes to the world around him. Although he could speak multiple languages and identify spots on the globe with nothing more than a glance, he realized he had never been to most of the places that he had lectured about. Ever since then, he had vowed to travel more often. Ulster still wasn’t racking up tons of mileage, but trips like this were becoming more and more frequent.
“Petr!” Jones shouted as he hustled off the yacht to greet his friend with a hug. “It’s great to see you in the flesh. It’s been far too long.”
Ulster grinned with delight. “I couldn’t agree more, which is why I packed my bag and hopped on the first flight to Malta.”
Jones peeked over Ulster’s shoulder and stared at his assortment of luggage. “Did you say ‘bag’—singular? How long are you planning to stay? A decade or two?”
Ulster laughed. “If that’s how long it takes, then so be it. I wanted to be prepared for all contingencies, including pedestrian meal service. That is why I asked my personal chef to pack a few of our favorite things, including those chocolate Swiss rolls that you love so much.”
“The ones that look and taste like fancy Ho Hos?”
“Those are the ones,” Ulster said with grin.
“I love those! Which bag are they in?”
“Truth be told, I don’t know. My staff did all the packing.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jones said as he patted his friend on the arm. “I was going to carry your bags anyway. Not in one trip, though. I’m not a freakin’ pachyderm.”
“Excellent Scrabble word, David. Remember it for later!”
Marissa stood back until their conversation was finished before she stepped forward. Although she had communicated with Ulster via text the day before, she hadn’t seen him in quite some time. “Petr, it’s so good to see you!”
Ulster did a double take. “Marissa, is that you? Oh my heavens, how you’ve changed! The last time I saw you, you were hiding yourself in an oversized sweater and baggy jeans. Now you’re tan, and leggy, and breathtakingly beautiful. You have blossomed like a flower, my dear, and I couldn’t be happier for you.”
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