Rex Dalton Thriller series Boxset 2

by J C Ryan

  “I don’t know anything about archaeology,” Rex demurred.

  “Neither do we. We’re only amateurs, but we just want you to see it and give us your opinion. Maybe you’ll know if what we think is gold is really gold.”

  Rex didn’t know what he’d done to make her believe he was an expert on gold, but now that he considered it, he would like to get a look at the artifacts they’d seen. Adding to his curiosity was his protective instincts raised by the continuing niggling feeling that all of this, including Junior’s behavior, just seemed off somehow, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.

  Maybe it was none of his business, and maybe he was too cynical. But the Markses had invited him along, and they were now seeking his reassurance. He’d reached a dead end for now in his historical research. What could it hurt to indulge them? And if he could piece together the reasons or hints that were making him uneasy about the whole trip, then maybe he could do some good here. Protect the old couple, if nothing else. From what, he wasn’t sure.

  “All right. Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, of course. There’s no time to waste. Junior should be back in a day or two. We’d like to be prepared to give him a firm answer.”

  “Okay it’s agreed then. But I just want to make it clear that you can’t base your decision on any opinions that I might have. My advice is that you get the opinion of an expert before taking any steps.” Flo and Barry just nodded and went to their shared shelter to rest from the exertions of the day, so Rex took the opportunity to talk with Alexandro again.

  “Forgive me for intruding. But I have more questions for you, if you’ll indulge me.”

  “Of course. Anything for a friend of Junior’s.”

  That was exactly where Rex wanted to start the questioning. “Junior seems to be a good friend to your people?” Rex didn’t elaborate, he didn’t want to come across as too inquisitive and raise Alexandro’s hackles.

  Alexandro paused his steps and looked in the direction he and the Markses had traveled when they left the village that morning. “Yes, he is indeed a good friend of ours. He’s the one who made me aware of the value of the place of the old ones,” he said. “My village is apart from the world. My people know nothing of the luxuries and comfort that your people enjoy. Junior has told us with the money he gives us, it will improve our lives, we can also have a doctor to attend to our very young and very old. Children will no longer die of diseases we can’t cure with traditional medicine. Our elders don’t need to suffer pain in their final days.” He began walking again.

  Rex heard the pathos in what Alexandro was saying, but underlying that was something that piqued his sense of something not right.

  “Junior has given you money?”

  “Oh yes. He told us that the land here, including the site of the ancients, belongs to us. He asked to buy the site, so he could study the ancients and preserve their art and heritage. He gave us money, and we gave him that land.”

  Rex’s senses were on full alert now. He’d have to verify his theory, but he was pretty sure the government of Peru owned all the land that wasn’t already occupied by indigenous people when the country was organized in its modern form. Even if this village owned a vast amount of land around it, the government would probably have some rules and regulations in place about foreign land ownership. And he was darn sure they would have very strict rules surrounding archaeological sites and the artifacts unearthed there, let alone selling such sites to a foreigner.

  However, he wasn’t certain of his facts. He needed to do some research.

  Rex had been focused on Alexandro and on his footing as they walked. He paused now to look further afield, and noticed they’d climbed a good bit higher on the slope. The village looked like a toy from here. It was arranged in neat rows around the central square, maybe thirty or forty small stone and adobe houses.

  “Do you know how many people live in your village?” he asked.

  Standing next to Rex, Alexandro looked downhill at the village. “I haven’t counted lately. Babies are born, old ones die. My guess would be around one hundred adults and maybe twenty or so children.”

  Reflecting on the crowd at the feast, Rex thought that was probably about right. “And some of the men work in the mines? What use do your people have for money? Don’t they just barter?”

  When Alexandro’s answer came, it wasn’t responsive to Rex’s question. “What do you know about the mines?”

  Rex turned to look at him and wondered why he was frowning.

  “I was talking with the old men today about what they remember of your history. The history of your people, that is. They told me about the mines and some folk-tales about Muki.”

  “You mustn’t listen to foolish old men,” Alexandro said. Abruptly, he turned and started back toward the village.

  ***

  THE NEXT DAY, Rex, the Markses, and Alexandro set out early in the morning for the archaeological site. Barry was full of energy, in better shape and spirits than Rex’d seen him in all the time since they’d met. Rex could only conclude that the excitement of the find had rejuvenated him. He wouldn’t have imagined Barry would be up for a second four-thousand-foot ascent in as many days. Maybe Flo had been right, and the fresh air, thin as it was, and exercise had done him good.

  The hike was strenuous, because the site was less than three miles from the village by Rex’s estimate once they got there. The trail was as steep as any part of it had been since Santa Teresa, if not more so. The chill morning air was refreshing, though. Digger must have agreed, as he raced back and forth between Alexandro and Rex bringing up the rear several times until they arrived.

  “Should I make Digger stay outside the ruins?” he asked, when they came to a low stone wall that surrounded the old site.

  “That isn’t necessary,” Alexandro answered. “He is a good dog.”

  “Let’s go inside. Don’t make a mess inside,” Rex said to Digger, who responded by drawing closer to Rex’s leg as they entered by an opening that must once have held a gate of some sort.

  Barry had become even more animated once they were inside the wall. He led Rex to a crumbling structure. It had no roof, and Rex was prepared to believe it could be centuries old, especially when Barry indicated he should look inside.

  Through a slot no wider than six inches, but tall enough that the missing upper walls and roofs interrupted it, Rex could see a room that appeared to be laid out for a ceremonial purpose. In the center of the room was a low stone table, and surrounding it were paving stones pierced with holes about a foot in diameter. In one of the holes, a rotted stump still stood, ten inches high and appearing broken.

  Rex’s eyes roamed from there to the far walls, and he sucked in a breath. He could see three niches, each about a foot from the next, and sitting inside them were intricately wrought statues that looked somehow familiar. As he stared through the alternating shadow and light trickling in from the missing roof, he recognized the statues as resembling the fantastic figures of what he knew as the Mayan calendar.

  What the hell?

  And as his eyes adjusted to seeing through the rays of sunlight into the shadows, he realized also that the statues had eyes made of what looked like precious or semi-precious gemstones or turquoise, and decorative touches that looked like what Flo and Barry believed them to be – gold.

  Not being an expert, he couldn’t tell, especially from a distance, if the artifacts were genuine. His thoughts were divided on the subject. If they were genuine, and the people of Alexandro’s village had known about the site all this time, why hadn’t they previously made it known to outsiders, or put a different way, why had they now? If the artifacts weren’t genuine, of what value were they in such a remote location? Could it be…

  Barry’s voice interrupted his pondering.

  “Well? What do you think?”

  Rex answered honestly. “I don’t know what to think. If this is genuine, then you’re right, it is incredible.” He turned to Alexandro
. “Why are your young men toiling in mines, when all this treasure is here for the taking?”

  Alexandro smiled and shook his head. “These objects are sacred to us. We won’t touch them. Our ancestors showed artifacts like these to the Europeans when they came to our lands a long time ago. Those foreigners took our beautiful art and melted it into lifeless bricks of gold. We didn’t understand, then, because to us, the metal is just metal. The real value is in the art because our gods inhabit the artworks.”

  Rex nodded. He’d read about that before. Nonetheless, Alexandro’s answer raised more questions. “So why now? Why show this to Junior and Mr. and Mrs. Marks?”

  “Junior has made a sacred vow to us that these pieces will be treated with respect, not melted for their gold and jewels. He has paid us for them in money, which we will use to improve the lives of everyone in our village.”

  Alexandro’s smooth, seemingly ready-made answers only served to raise more alerts with Rex. One minute, he seemed to understand the modern world, and the next, he seemed to be immersed in the ancient one his village still inhabited.

  “Do you understand that to find all the treasures in this site, Junior must bring many men and women to dig and brush away the soil and stones, layer by layer? It will no longer look as it does now when he’s done. And he will carry the artifacts away. Your people will never see them again.”

  Alexandro shrugged. “We do not visit this place now. It doesn’t matter.”

  Oh, I thought you just told me your gods live in these objects. I would’ve thought for that reason this place would be important to you. You should make up your mind. One minute, the objects are sacred, and the next, it doesn’t matter.

  Rex was more and more alarmed by Alexandro’s inconsistent elucidations.

  When the time came to return to the village, he still hadn’t decided what he would say to the Markses to caution them that something wasn’t right. They’d asked him if he thought the artifacts were made of real gold. He told them he had no clue but mentioned that it didn’t really matter, because if they were genuine, it was as Alexandro had mentioned—the value was in the art. After all, the gods lived within.

  He hated to think that these nice people were really artifact looters, but he couldn’t rule it out and decided to keep an open mind until he could get his head around what was really going on here. If it turned out the Markses were there for nefarious purposes, a word to the Ministry of Culture would take care of that quickly.

  Chapter Twelve

  WHEN THEY GOT back to the village, Rex was surprised to find Junior had returned already.

  He’d made good time on the trail. Too good, in fact. To descend, get to Cuzco, and return in less time than the five of us had taken getting up here is not plausible.

  “Hey Speedy Gonzales, how’d you get back so fast? How’s your uncle doing?” he asked.

  Junior ran a hand through his blond hair, which was already mussed. “I hired a helicopter in Santa Teresa to take me to Cuzco. That was some flying, let me tell you. As soon as I found out what was going on with my uncle, I raced back here. I haven’t slept since I left.”

  Rex was doing the math in his head. It still didn’t add up, but he waited for the rest of the story.

  “My uncle is sicker than I realized. He needs major surgery, and he can’t get it in Cuzco. I need to fly him to the States.”

  Before he could hear any more, Rex felt a tug at his elbow. Looking down, he recognized the wizened face of one of the elders, known as Pidro, he’d talked to the previous day. Judging by the expression on Pidro’s face, it seemed urgent. Rex apologized as he left Junior and the Markses to follow the man.

  The elderly Quechua stopped when they were near the edge of the village, out of earshot of everyone. He looked around fearfully, and then pulled Rex’s arm until he stooped to the man’s shorter stature.

  “This man is evil,” he whispered.

  Rex found he wasn’t very surprised. He only needed to know which man was evil–Alexandro, or Junior, or Barry.

  “Who is evil?”

  “This white man who comes today. He makes pact with our leader. Our leader knows he is evil, but he tells us this promise must be done, for the doctor.”

  This was the third time Rex had heard about a doctor – twice from Alexandro, and now from this man.

  “Your village needs a doctor?” he asked.

  “Yes. Doctor drives evil spirits from this place, children and old people like me no longer sick.”

  “This man, Junior, is evil, and Alexandro is not evil?”

  “Alexandro makes bad judgement. First the mines, now this. We must return to old ways.”

  There was too much information here to sort out while Junior Roper was alone with the Markses, Rex decided.

  “We will speak more of this,” he told Pidro. “I will keep your secret.”

  Pidro nodded vigorously. “Yes, keep secret. I am forbidden to tell you. Not tell anyone, please.”

  Rex wasn’t sure of his Quechuan pronouns yet, but he understood what the man had said was the villagers knew of a plot that outsiders shouldn’t know about. Why Pidro had chosen to tell him anyway was something he might never know. But for now, he had to leave the mystery behind and get to the Markses, before they committed to something foolish.

  ***

  JUNIOR DIDN’T MIND that Ray Davis had left the conversation, in fact, it suited him very well. Davis was too curious. And way too quick with his gun. The dog, too. Damn mutt nearly took his arm off before. He looked around uneasily. Seeing that Digger had gone with Davis, he continued his story.

  “I want to apologize again. I didn’t feel good about abandoning you up here, but it was lucky I got to my uncle when I did. I have to go back immediately, but I only came to let you know what was going on.”

  Flo was looking at him like he thought a mother or grandma would have, her face full of concern for him and his ‘uncle’.

  I have her in the palm of my hand. Now I only have to convince Barry. They’d be up here gloating over their prize while I make my getaway.

  Right on cue, Barry asked, “What is going on, son?”

  Son. That’s good. He’ll buy it.

  “Ahh… mhh… I can’t burden you with my problems. I’ll work it out.”

  “Come on, son. What’s the problem? Maybe we can help.”

  “Well, the thing is, in a nutshell, we, my uncle and I, are out of money. I don’t have anything left after losing that thirty-thou on that artifact scam. But that’s not your worry. Somehow, I’ve got to get my uncle back to the States, and to do that, I’ve got to go back to Cuzco right now. Don’t even have the time to eat something. But I have to know you two will be all right. Do you want to go back with me?”

  He was skilled at reading faces, and he could tell they were not ready to leave the village yet. Alexandro must have done a good job when he’d shown them the fake site, or rather, the real site with fake artifacts. They’d bought it, hook, line and sinker.

  Time to set the hook.

  Barry was responding as if he’d memorized his role. “Can we help you with money, son?”

  “No, no, of course not! It was my foolishness that lost all that money. I’ll figure something out. Sell my body, maybe.” He grinned at the tired old joke.

  Flo put her hand on his arm. “As handsome as you are, Junior, I don’t think that’s going to help. What if we buy the site from you? That way, you’re not taking charity.”

  Junior mentally pumped a fist. Schooling his face, he answered, “It’s not mine to sell, Flo. But thank you for the thought. I’m glad you understand.”

  “But Alexandro told us you bought it from the villagers.”

  “Well, that’s what I told him. I wanted to help them get a doctor here, but they’re too proud for charity…”

  “Like someone else I know,” Flo interrupted, smiling sadly.

  “Well, anyway, it was just a polite fiction to get them to take the money, and I guess to buy
their goodwill, to allow me the right to find someone to fund an archaeological dig.”

  Junior was well aware that Barry had been watching the exchange between them. He’d seen Barry’s eyes move back and forth as he and Flo talked. Now he looked like he had something to say.

  “In that case, we insist,” Barry stated. “It sounds like we can do two good deeds in one. When your uncle recovers, get in touch with us, and we’ll talk about funding the dig. Agreed? Now, what did you pay these people for their site.”

  Junior knew not to protest anymore. The hook was set, all that remained was how much he could reel in. Barry was about to negotiate the price, pretending to want a bargain when he really meant to include some charity for Junior and his ‘uncle’.

  And that’s just fine with me.

  “I gave them fifty-thousand. But it isn’t your responsibility.”

  “Nonsense. Would you take a check, or would you prefer we arrange to wire you the funds?”

  Hell, this is going much better than I’d thought.

  If he had a check, he’d be able to cash it and disappear before they were even back to civilization. But he was cautious about the amount.

  “Well, to be honest, a check would be more convenient for both of us, I reckon, but I don’t know how we’d cash such a large one without having to go back to a town with a bigger bank.”

  “We’ll give you five smaller ones. Will that work?”

  “Perfect. And I’ll only cash what I need to get my uncle to the States and into good care.”

  “I insist you take it all. After all, we’ll be partners in this excavation, soon. That’s what partners do for each other.”

  Junior started fidgeting. Flo took the hint. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  When she returned, she was holding six checks. “I wanted them to be less than ten-thousand each, so it wouldn’t raise any red flags with the bank. Cash them over several days, and you should be fine. Now, get back to your uncle and get him the care he needs.”

  Junior hugged her, shook Barry’s hand, and started back down the trail at a jog. By the time Davis got back to them, he wanted to be out of sight with a good head start. Just in case.