‘Has this ever happened before?’ Nik asked.
The muscles in Papou’s jaw tightened. ‘Twice, though in both instances, there were three alerts. The last time there were this many warnings was over sixty years ago, when Hitler tried to find the coins. My father had a compact radar and by the time the warnings came through, the trail had gone cold. After the war, my father bought a British cavity magnetron that produced high-power microwaves and fitted into a newer radar model. Ever since then, upgrading technology was paramount, no matter the cost.’
Nik’s eyes narrowed. ‘In that case, we need to discover where and who fast. We don’t want someone like another Hitler to find the other coin.’
They spent the next few hours checking each line feed, examining and cross-referencing words. Aphrodite kept appearing as a search term, as did turtle and coin. It was a slow and complicated process filtering out the pertinent information against false trails.
‘Let’s take a break,’ Papou said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms over his head. ‘Besides, I’m hungry. I work better with a belly full of food.’
Nik placed his pen on the desk and rubbed his eyes. ‘An excellent idea. The words are making less sense the longer I seek a solution.’ He moaned as he stood.
‘My boy, you shouldn’t be groaning, not with the exercise and training,’ said Papou, rapping him on the shoulder.
‘I’m not complaining, but Danny didn’t hold back on his punches this morning.’ Nik rolled his shoulders to ease the stiffness. ‘I’m lucky to still have my teeth! I feel bruised all over. I understand why we’re boxing without gloves but my body doesn’t approve.’
Papou grinned. ‘It’s essential to keep fit and good preparation in case you need to defend yourself.’
‘Yes, well, we’ll see.’
Fifteen minutes later they returned to the bunker, replenished and determined to solve the enigma. Nik threw out his earlier efforts and flipped to a fresh sheet of paper. He went back to the first newsfeed and jotted down the location and keywords, moved onto the next one and recorded the details, until he covered each of the terms and phrases. He stared at them, forcing his mind to make sense of the words. Nothing occurred to him. Then he had an idea.
He keyed in, map of Europe. Google came back with over five million hits. Nik did a quick check of a few links, selected one with cities included on the map, and clicked on the print function. He grabbed a roll of sticky tape from the drawer and a ruler, and rummaged further until he found scissors. The first city he marked on the map with an X, then moved onto the next one, and continued until he had marked in all the cities. He scratched his head.
The words must mean something, he thought, as he tapped the eraser end of the pencil against the map. He looked at each keyword: coin collectors, antiquities, old coins, museo and neo, and other similar phrases popped up in the alerts in correlation to the city, but that didn’t help either. Starting at Paris, he drew a line to Rome, then one from Moscow to Madrid, Manchester to Monaco, and Marseille to Cologne. A pattern formed.
‘Papou,’ he said in a quiet voice.
‘Yes?’
‘Whoever has the coin is travelling from Geneva.’ Nik handed the map to his grandfather.
‘Geneva?’ Papou studied the lines of connections Nik had drawn.
‘I haven’t yet worked out how the words relate to the geographical area,’ Nik added, ‘or how the prefix neo links to each city. I know it means young but in what context I have no clue.’
Papou remained silent, his gaze flicked from his notes to the map. ‘We need to keep monitoring their movements, this will help us to identify specific locations.’
‘But why? What are they up to?’
Papou shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’ He rubbed his brow. ‘Let’s call it a night, you must be here early tomorrow for training before you go to school.’
‘But, Papou …’
‘Go home and rest. Whoever is using the coin will not stop and if they are smart, and I believe they are, they won’t be using the sister coin for a little while.’
The next morning, Nik arrived at his grandfather’s place early for training, and while his competence in combat had grown and developed, and no doubt he could defend himself more ably than seven months ago, Nik knew he had more to learn. He wanted to use the skills to protect himself as if they were second nature, like walking and talking.
Papou had Nik practice martial arts and techniques in facing an opponent wielding a knife for a few hours before he headed to work. It was the new norm for them both, training early in the morning, and then Nik returned to his grandfather’s late in the afternoon to monitor the data on the computers, after marking papers.
That Monday afternoon, the computers were quiet, with none of the activity that had flummoxed them the previous day. Nik sat back and stared at the map he’d drawn. He tapped the pen against his lips and thought about how to use the information to find out who the person was and what they were up to.
He listed the cities on a fresh sheet of paper and the distances between them. How could he identify which city they started from? Nik glanced at the satellite image of the Earth and saw the multitudes of lights that dotted the northern hemisphere. It was still night-time in that part of the world. If only there was a way to track the coin, something similar to a GPS. He threw the pen on the desk, pushed the chair back and began pacing back and forth. Could the coin have some power source it emits when used?
Nik sat back down and clicked on the settings for the satellite program and browsed through the options, and turned off the tracking for planes, GPS data, military and commercial air travel, plus those for light aircraft. He then closed all external communications and downloaded the preceding day’s alerts. His jaw fell open. He grabbed another piece of paper and scribbled the information as quickly as possible. The trail was fading but the destination was easy to follow. He reset the parameters on the satellite system, and with his notes in hand, dashed out of the room.
He found his grandfather in the kitchen preparing dinner.
‘Papou, I worked out where the person went!’ He explained what he did, the trajectory and the emissions of the coin.
‘Excellent work, Niko!’ Papou wiped his hands on a tea-towel and took the piece of paper from him. ‘They appear to be shops.’
‘I haven’t checked them, but that’s what I thought too.’ Nik beamed. ‘Whoever the person is didn’t stay long either. Each spatial leap lasted maybe two hours.’
‘Spatial leap?’ Papou repeated, taking his attention from the paper to Nik.
He nodded, almost bouncing on his feet. ‘That’s what I’ve called this coin jump.’
‘Spatial leap,’ Papou said again. ‘The term fits rather well.’
‘Given that we know where they went, what now?’
‘We fly to Europe and visit those shops,’ replied Papou.
‘I can’t, it’s the middle of the school term, there are five weeks left before I can leave,’ said Nik, frustrated.
‘I’ll leave for Paris, check out the stores and try to learn why the person visited them.’
‘Are you sure you want to go on your own? It could be risky.’
‘It’s just a fact-finding mission,’ said Papou, ‘nothing more. You join me as soon as school’s finished. After we complete our search, we can visit family relatives in Greece. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.’
‘How long will we need? I’ve only got two weeks before the next term starts.’
‘By the time you arrive, I’ll have collated the information we are searching for.’ His smile made him look youthful. ‘I’m looking forward to taking a break from the usual routine. I’ll make the arrangements for our flights tomorrow. Let’s eat first. There’s a lot to organise, and I must arrange for someone to look after the house while we’re away.’
Chapter Eleven
It was late in the afternoon and Nik was jogging along the Swan River, the city on his
right and the river to his left, when his mobile phone rang. He slowed to a stop glanced at the name on the screen and smiled. His grandfather had left for Paris over two week’s ago and rang almost every second day with an update of his reconnaissance.
‘Hi, Papou! Where are you? What’s that noise?’ Nik asked, almost shouting.
‘Hello, Niko. I am at the train station in Marseille and soon boarding for Cologne,’ came the reply.
‘How have the last few days been?’ he inquired, careful not to ask outright.
‘It has been illuminating. I’ve lots to tell you when you get here.’
‘Looking forward to it,’ said Nik, raising his voice as the background din at the other end got louder. ‘I've packed my bags and they’re already in the car's boot. I fly out at six in the morning.’ It was the end of the school term, and they decided that Papou would use the early arrival to visit the various curios and antique stores, the trail left by the user of the sister coin. That way, when Nik joined him, they’d know more about the purpose of the visits.
‘I’ll meet you at the hotel in a day’s time.’
‘Great, see you soon. Take care, Papou.’
‘Always do. See you, Niko.’
Thirty hours later, Nik arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport, after a two-hour stopover at Dubai to catch a connecting flight to Paris. The last time he was in the French capital was five years ago, while on a holiday, and he was excited to be back. Although the circumstances of this trip were different, he hoped he would have time to revisit his favourite places.
He followed his fellow passengers off the plane and towards customs. An hour later, he was in a taxi heading into the city. The hotel his grandfather had booked was in the centre of Paris, within the Opera district. The main arteries and streets were busy, and the sidewalks bustled with pedestrians. Nik checked his watch. 9 pm. He gazed out the window and smiled. The Parisians headed out for dinner after the tourists had eaten and departed for their hotels or onto an evening event as set by their tour companies.
‘Monsieur, Hilton Paris Opera,’ said the driver, turning to Nik before getting out of the car.
Nik bent his head to look at the hotel. The building echoed Paris’s distinctive neoclassical style of elegance and timeless beauty. The entry to the hotel was modest and small compared to the size of the facade. The driver pulled Nik’s suitcase out of the boot and placed it on the footpath.
Nik gave the driver the fare plus a tip.
‘Merci beaucoup, monsieur. S'il vous plait, appelez moi si vous auriez besion d'un taxi.’ The driver handed Nik his card.
Nik took the business card and shook the man’s hand. ‘Merci, monsieur. Mon nom est, Nik. Pardon, je parle seulement un tout petit peu le Français, you are very kind. I am grateful for your offer.’
The driver nodded and smiled. ‘My pleasure, Monsieur Nik. My name is Sebastien. If you need a taxi, please call me.’
Nik beamed. ‘Merci beaucoup, Sebastien.’
The driver got back into the car and, with practised ease, merged into the busy evening traffic. Nik walked towards the hotel, pulling the luggage behind him. A porter approached him with a plastic smile and gave a curt bow.
‘Bonsoir, monsieur, this way, please.’ He took hold of the handle and wheeled the suitcase into the hotel, with Nik trailing behind. They passed through the oversize doors and on to the gleaming black marble flooring. The design was ornate and sumptuous, the style Napoleonic. Two chandeliers hung overhead, statues and granite columns greeted the guests with stoicism, and oversized chairs and couches filled the main sitting area. Nik resisted the urge to whistle and instead headed straight to the concierge desk, while the porter stood to one side, waiting.
The bottle-blonde behind the desk gave a smile that did not reach her eyes.
‘Bonsoir, monsieur.’
‘Bonsoir.’ Nik pulled out the bookings information from the backpack he carried over his shoulder. ‘J'ai une reservation au nom de Zosimos, Iasos et Nikolaos.’
The woman turned to the computer screen and clicked on the mouse a few times. Minutes passed. Nik placed the sheet of paper on the marbled counter, faced it her way and pointed.
‘This is the spelling of the names.’
Her gaze flicked to where he pointed. She typed in the name, her polished fingernails making a clacking sound as she struck the keys.
‘Bon. Passport please.’ She verified the details and handed the papers and passport back to Nik. ‘You are on the fourth floor, room 425.’ She clicked on the mouse and the printer sprang into action. Next, she opened a drawer and withdrew a card.
‘Please sign here.’ She marked the spot with a neat little X and passed the paper to him. ‘Breakfast is from 7 am to 11 am. The restaurant is by the stairs on the right. Follow the passage, where you’ll see the maître d'. Checkout is midday. This is your key card. There is a safe in your room, free wi-fi, and laundry services are available every day.’ She handed him a sleek cardboard envelope that contained the key card with a picture of the hotel and its address. ‘Enjoy your stay.’
‘Has my grandfather, Iasos Zosimos, checked in?’
‘No.’ She did a quick check on the computer. ‘There is a message for you.’ She browsed the small niches along the wall and plucked an envelope from one. She passed it to him.
‘Merci.’
The porter was waiting for him by the elevators, and pressed the button as Nik approached. Nik glanced at the envelope with his name scrawled on the front. He wondered if it was from his grandfather as he stepped into the lift. He tapped the edge of the envelope against his leg and stared up at the digital panel, the green glowing numbers changing with each heartbeat. When they arrived at the floor, Nik stood aside for the porter to lead the way.
‘Monsieur, your room.’ Nik handed him the card.
The porter opened the door and lifted the suitcase onto the bench as if it weighed nothing. Nik tipped the man and closed the door behind him. He placed the backpack and envelope on the desk and sat on the chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and yawned. The early morning start and long-distance trip were taking their toll.
He rubbed his eyes. ‘A shower, then bed,’ he muttered, shaking himself awake. He placed his hands on the desk and pushed himself upright, his fingertips touching the white envelope. He sat back down, picked up the envelope, ripped it open and pulled out a postcard-size paper.
Louvre, ground floor, Code of Hammurabi, 11.00 am
Nik frowned and flipped the paper to the other side. It was blank. He re-read the neat printing, the letters and spacing even and nondescript. He stared at the words, his mind racing. Who other than Papou knew he was in Paris? Did the message have something to do with the coin?
Nik placed the paper on the desk and stared at the neat script. He picked up the phone and dialled.
‘Monsieur Zosimos, how can I help you?’
‘May I speak with the mademoiselle who processed my room reservation?’
‘Of course.’
Nik was put on hold, though he did not have to wait too long.
‘Monsieur Zosimos, is there a problem with your room?’
‘No, the room is fine. The envelope you gave me, did you see the person who handed it in?’
‘Non, sorry. I wasn’t on duty. I can find out who was and ask them.’
‘Merci, I’d appreciate if you did.’
Nik hung up and picked up the note, re-read the message and flipped it to the other side. There was no clue to identify who sent it. Was he in danger? And where was Papou? The phone rang. Nik picked it up straightaway.
‘Yes?’
‘I am sorry, Monsieur Zosimos. The person on duty said a courier delivered the envelope.’
‘Thank you for your time.’
‘Is there anything else I can do for you, monsieur?’
‘No, thank you.’
Nik hung up. Could it be a family member or a friend who left the message? Nik dismissed that thought. No, th
ey would have contacted him or put their name on the note, and no one else could take time off work. He’d have to wait until tomorrow morning to meet the person at the Louvre.
Chapter Twelve
Nik woke the next morning with a heavy head. He had tossed and turned all night, worried that something terrible had happened to his grandfather and who the mystery author of the note was. A dull ache began behind his left eye and threatened to intensify. He trudged into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He glimpsed himself in the mirror and winced. He leaned in closer, his breath fogging the mirror, and poked at the puffy dark circles under his eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, feeling better after his shower, he dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark jeans and black leather brogues and took the elevator to the ground floor. The doors opened onto the lobby where the sound of voices hit him, reminding him of the noise of students at their lockers. He alighted from the elevator and headed over to reception.
‘Excuse me, could you tell me if my grandfather, Iasos Zosimos, has checked in?’
‘I will look for you.’ The man behind the desk did a quick scan of the monitor, moved the mouse and clicked a few times. ‘No, monsieur. There is no registration of your grandfather.’
‘Right, thank you.’ Nik pulled out his mobile to see if his grandfather had left a message. There was one from his mother. He scrolled through his contacts list and tapped on Papou’s number. The phone rang and then clicked into message bank. He decided to leave a message.
‘Hi Papou, it’s Niko. I’m here in Paris at the hotel, wondering where you are. Call me as soon as you can.’
He made his way to the restaurant. A maître d' was standing by a podium and smiled as he approached.
The Guardian's Legacy Page 8
