‘When? Where? Why didn’t I hear about this?’
Dial grimaced, not sure what to answer first. ‘As far as we can tell, he was kidnapped in Rome last night. From there he was taken to Denmark, where he was killed.’
‘Denmark? Why Denmark?’
‘We don’t know, sir. That’s what I was hoping to find out. You see, I’m in charge of gathering as much evidence as possible, but I’ve run into some resistance. I’ve tried calling several people at the Vatican, but -’
‘Say no more.’ Rose paused, trying to think of the best way to explain things. ‘I know how we can be about information. That’s probably why I haven’t heard anything about this tragedy. People are reluctant to open up in our community.’
‘Which is understandable, but -’
‘Not acceptable. I couldn’t agree with you more.’ Rose shook his head, half embarrassed by the situation. ‘Nick, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to look into things myself, even if it means ruffling a few feathers. And the moment I have anything, and I do mean anything, I will give you a call, day or night.’
‘Do you promise? Because several people have -’
‘Yes, Nick, I promise. I will get to the bottom of this. You have my word as a Texan.’
And to Dial, that meant more than Rose’s word as a church official.
15
Jones was obsessed with mysteries, which was the reason he wanted to become a detective. Some people see the glass as half-empty, while others see it as half-full. But Jones stares at it and tries to figure out who drank the damn water.
Anyway, Payne wasn’t surprised when Jones snatched the CIA folder before he had a chance to grab it. Jones said, ‘Dr Charles Boyd majored in archaeology and linguistics at Oxford and was eventually given a teaching position at Dover University in 1968. According to this, they even made him head of his department in 1991… Wow! How shocking!’
Manzak wasn’t amused. ‘Keep reading, Mr Jones. I assure you it gets worse.’
‘Damn, Jon! He wasn’t kidding. Take a look at this.’
Payne fought the urge to smile when Jones handed him a head shot of Dr Boyd that was taken during the Nixon administration. The type of photo that gets attached to someone’s personnel file and stays there no matter what anyone does to get rid of it. Boyd wore a tweed jacket and a silk bow tie, plus the worst comb-over hairstyle Payne had ever seen. It looked like one of the before photos in that infomercial for spray-on hair.
‘Let me guess,’ Jones cracked. ‘He’s wanted by the fashion police.’
‘No,’ Manzak said in a harsh tone. ‘He’s the key suspect in an Interpol investigation that’s been going on for two decades. Everything from forgeries to smuggling to the theft of antiquities. This guy does it all and does it at a very high level. Right now he’s wanted in several countries, most notably France, Italy, Germany, Austria, and Spain.’
‘Then why don’t they pick him up?’ Payne wondered.
‘Because Boyd’s a genius. Every time they get close to him, he finds a way to cover his tracks. Every single time. I’m telling you, it’s like the guy has ESP.’
‘Or inside information,’ Jones suggested.
Payne was thinking the same thing. ‘OK, let’s pretend everything you’ve told us about Boyd is accurate. What does this have to do with the CIA?’
Manzak pointed to the file. ‘Let me start with Spain. Dr Boyd stole a number of heirlooms from the Spanish government, one-of-a-kind items that have no price tag. Needless to say, they’re willing to do anything within reason to have them returned. Unfortunately, the only way to retrieve their items is to find Dr Boyd and get him to talk. Sounds easy, right? Well, up until now he’s managed to hide hundreds of objects under Interpol’s nose, and no one has any idea where. Spain is worried if Boyd gets killed in a manhunt, then their artifacts will never resurface. And the same can be said for the rest of Europe. Everyone is panicked about this. Everyone. And panic is a wonderful thing, especially if you’re able to take advantage of it.’
‘See, that’s where you’re losing me. How can the CIA benefit from this?’
Manzak leaned forward and smiled, the type of smile that was usually seen next to a bubbling cauldron. ‘Tell me, Mr Payne, what do you know about the CIA?’
‘I know how to spell it. Other than that, I’m clueless.’ Payne pointed toward Jones. ‘There’s the guy you want to talk to. He was tempted to join your organization at one point in time.’
Manzak looked surprised. ‘Is that so?’
Jones nodded. ‘Simply put, you guys collect foreign intelligence, evaluate it, then send your theories to D.C. in one of these snazzy manila folders.’
Manzak ignored the last part. ‘Of course, it’s not as easy as it sounds. Sometimes it takes years to get a task done. For instance, we might smuggle an agent into a country, let him become a part of the system, then go back to him much later to find out what he’s learned. Sometimes months, sometimes years. That’s why in certain situations we’re forced to use more efficient techniques, ones with a quicker rate of return.’
Jones grinned. ‘Torture?’
‘You’ve heard the saying, If I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Well, that’s how we get some of our best intel. We provide a favor – weapons, cash, whatever – and get data in return.’
Payne groaned in understanding. ‘And let me guess, D.J. and I are the favor.’
‘Not just a favor, a big favor. If you catch Boyd, you’re helping more than just Spain. You’re helping us as well because we’ll hold Boyd over Europe like mistletoe, then see which country kisses our ass first. And the best part is we don’t have to risk any operatives to complete this mission. You gentlemen can do all the dirty work for us.’
‘That is, if we agree to do this. You see, there’s still one thing that bothers me. I take it there’s no way the Spanish government is willing to put our agreement on paper.’
‘That’s correct, Mr Payne. No paperwork on this one. It’s safer that way.’
‘Safer for whom? What’s to stop them from arresting us again the moment we find Boyd?’
Manzak shrugged. ‘And what’s to prevent you from going home the moment you leave this facility? The answer is nothing. But I’ll tell you this: I think Spain is showing a lot more faith in you than you are in them. With your military backgrounds, you guys could disappear if you wanted to, and there’s no way they could come to the U.S. to get you back. So what have you got to lose? If you take their deal, they’ll let you walk… And if you don’t, they’ll let you rot.’
16
The police in Orvieto could not be trusted. The city crest on the side of the helicopter was proof of that. But how far did the conspiracy run? Could Boyd and Maria trust the cops in the next town? There was no way of knowing, so they decided to take a two-hour bus ride to Perugia, a city of over 150,000 people, and seek the protection of a much larger police force.
After settling into the backseat, the duo glanced out the window and searched for flashing lights, men with guns, or anything that seemed suspicious. Yet nothing disrupted the quiet serenity of Orvieto except the loud exhaust of the bus.
Once they cleared the confines of Orvieto and headed toward the Italian countryside, Boyd was finally able to relax. His breathing returned to normal. The color reemerged in his cheeks. The knot in his stomach began to loosen, and his racing heart slowly slid from his throat.
Suddenly reenergized, Boyd removed the cylinder that he’d rescued from the Catacombs and stared at it. To him, the unearthing of the Catacombs was an event that would rock the archaeological community for decades to come. But the discovery of Orvieto paled in comparison to the item in his hand. If the Roman cylinder actually contained what he thought it did, the entire world would sit up and notice, not just a bunch of professors from the world of academia.
Front-page news all over the globe. Boyd’s picture on every magazine cover.
Before he got too excited, he realized he had to make sure that the promised treasure was actually inside. While Maria took a nap next to him, he held the cylinder next to the window to see if he’d missed anything in the gloom of the Catacombs. With the exception of the engraver’s inscription, the object was completely smooth, containing no ridges or flaws of any kind. Both ends appeared solid, as if the metal had no seams. But Boyd knew that wasn’t the case.
The artifact from Bath had looked solid as well, yet after running it through a series of tests, he discovered that one of the ends was covered with enough metal to keep air and moisture out but not enough to make it impenetrable. All he needed was a screwdriver, and he’d be able to pierce the metal top, then peel the surface back like the top of a can of nuts.
Desperate, Boyd glanced under his seat, searching for something to break the seal. Next, he checked the video camera bag, but all of the fasteners were made of plastic, which was way too flimsy to penetrate the top.
Bloody hell, he thought to himself. This cylinder is the key to everything. There has to be -
And then it dawned on him. He had just muttered the answer to his problem.
Boyd removed the key to his rent-a-truck and pushed its tip against the edge of the bronze cylinder. The container hissed as the seal was broken, allowing air that had been sealed for two thousand years to escape from the tube. With trembling hands, he pushed the key in harder, then peeled the thin layer of metal toward the edge. Not the entire way, though. He had no intentions of removing the document on the bus. All he wanted to do was to see if the scroll was inside.