‘S o, what have you discovered, Professor? And so early in the morning, too.’
Levi jumped back, startled by von Hei?en’s sudden appearance from the overgrown jungle of the ball court.
‘Do you normally creep about like this, Sturmbannfuhrer?’ he demanded.
‘That depends, Professor, on whether those around me have something to hide, something that might further the greatness of the Reich. I see you were taking bearings. There is presumably a reason for that?’
‘It’s quite common archaeological practice to take bearings before we grid an area.’
‘Yet you don’t find the need to take any notes? Fascinating. I will watch your progress with interest. Now,’ von Hei?en continued, ‘Father Ehrlichmann is keen to make a start. I plan a meeting for after breakfast. If Ehrlichmann is right, we’ll find skulls not far from here.’
‘The ancient Maya were a very proud race, Sturmbannfuhrer, and their victory ceremonies included the sacrifice of enemies. Centuries ago, teeming ranks of painted warriors thundered onto this very ball court, stamping to the rhythm of pounding drums and the scent of burning temple fires. They led their prisoners up those steps over there.’ Levi pointed towards a large stone at the top. ‘They ripped their hearts out while they were still beating. Then they decapitated them. The last time I was here I found several skulls in the jungle behind the ball court.’ Levi was more than happy to distract von Hei?en with Himmler’s obsession with craniometry.
‘And you didn’t take any back to Austria?’ von Hei?en probed.
‘Museums might be interested, but I don’t collect skulls, Sturmbannfuhrer, nor do I disturb sacred ground.’ Roberto Arana, the shaman, had reminded Levi of the curse the ancient Egyptians placed on the tomb of Tutankhamen: Death shall come on swift wing to him who disturbs the peace of the King.
Levi knew that those who had opened Tutankhamen’s tomb had succumbed to mysterious deaths. Roberto had warned that the Maya protected their pyramids and sacred ground with equal ferocity. ‘The secondary jungle has taken over,’ Levi observed, looking past the ball court, ‘and it’s very thick now, but the skull racks where the Maya displayed the heads of their victims should still be there.’
‘Excellent,’ von Hei?en exclaimed. ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the measurements of any skulls there are well within the cephalic index for the Nordic Aryans.’
‘Ah, yes. The mathematical formula for the shape of a head, on which you base your judgements on intelligence and race. If I remember rightly, it’s the ratio of head breadth to head length multiplied by a hundred. A fairly simplistic way of looking at things, I would think. Although your Reichsfuhrer seems to place great faith in it.’
‘As do I,’ von Hei?en replied icily. ‘Perhaps you should stick to your compass bearings, Professor, and leave the intricacies of craniometry to those who understand it.’
Levi said nothing. Clearly von Hei?en was unaware of Mayan beliefs about the shape of the human skull. An elongated head was considered to be a sign of nobility, and Levi had discovered that the ancient Maya had bound babies’ heads, compressing them between boards for days to change the shape of their skulls.
It was midafternoon by the time the team of indentured labourers from the local village, beads of sweat glistening on their brown skin, hacked their way far enough into the dense secondary undergrowth surrounding the ball court.
‘Maestro!’
Levi moved forward but von Hei?en and Father Ehrlichmann both shouldered him out of the way.
‘There! Look at the shapes,’ von Hei?en enthused.
The local villagers, the modern descendants of the Maya, had uncovered the first of several grisly rows of skulls. Macabre, eyeless sockets stared at the intruders. Levi shivered. The heads remained impaled on the moss-covered rack, just as the original inhabitants of the city had left them more than a thousand years before. To disturb them now seemed to invite the retribution Roberto had warned of, Levi thought. Not far away, a large masacuata stirred at the sounds of its territory being invaded. The boa constrictor was the largest snake in Central America, and this one measured well over five metres.
Von Hei?en ran his hands over the first of the skulls. Centuries ago, the racks had been drenched in drying blood, the stench of death heavy in the air, but now every skull was creamy smooth and yellowed with age. ‘Look at the size of them! Aryan!’
Father Ehrlichmann reached into his canvas satchel for a pair of sliding callipers. ‘An index of around seventy-five,’ he announced after he’d finished measuring the first skull. ‘Unusually broad, but I think Reichsfuhrer Himmler will be pleased.’
Again, Levi said nothing. Ehrlichmann might be an acknowledged authority on the dubious science of craniometry, he thought, but like von Hei?en, Ehrlichmann seemed unaware of ancient Mayan customs.
A week later, the Junkers returned on the first of its weekly resupply runs. Levi leaned back in the canvas chair outside his tent and looked towards the skies, his spirits lifting. Perhaps there would be a letter from Ramona. The aircraft circled the clearing in the jungle and then disappeared before lining up for its final approach.
Inside the plane, il Signor Alberto Felici tugged nervously at his large black moustache. Beads of sweat ran down his pale, pudgy face. He detested flying, and the DC-2 flight from Rome to Guatemala City, followed by the flight from Guatemala City in the Junkers, had done nothing to lessen his apprehension. Felici maintained a fierce grip on the armrest, but he needn’t have worried. Under the patient tutelage of Oberst Krueger, Leutnant Muller eased the Junkers onto the rough strip, turned at the far end and taxied back. He cut the power and the propellers phutted to a stop in quick succession.
Levi watched as a bald-headed, portly little man dressed in a fawn safari suit and carrying a large leather briefcase descended from the Junkers. Von Hei?en and Father Ehrlichmann were waiting to welcome him. They disappeared into von Hei?en’s tent and Levi wondered who would take the trouble to travel to such a remote part of the world, but he was not left wondering for long. The visitor, accompanied by Father Ehrlichmann, emerged almost immediately and they both headed in Levi’s direction.
‘Il Signor Felici is an advisor to Pope Pius XI,’ Father Ehrlichmann enthused after he’d made the introductions, ‘and he’s here on a fact-finding mission at the personal direction of Cardinal Pacelli, the Cardinal Secretary of State.’
‘Why would the Vatican be interested in the Maya?’ Levi asked politely after Ehrlichmann had left.
‘May I call you Levi?’ Felici asked smoothly. Levi smiled and nodded. ‘And I’d be grateful if we could keep our conversations confidential: the Nazi machine is not always to be trusted.’
Levi nodded again. Perhaps, at last, he had a friend in court.
‘The possible existence of a Maya codex has not gone unnoticed in the Vatican. Bishop de Landa’s burning of the Mayan libraries was a terrible loss to civilisation, and although the Vatican will never publicly admit to any involvement, privately, the support for this expedition is in recognition of a grave injustice.’
‘It will take a lot more than that to make amends, Signor Felici. Imagine the outcry if the Maya had invaded Rome and burned all the public libraries and art museums!’
‘It’s been a painful lesson,’ Felici agreed, ‘and one that should not be forgotten, but in the meantime I’d very much appreciate a briefing on your progress.’
‘What do you expect this codex to contain?’ Felici asked after Levi had dismissed the Nazi’s craniometry theories and brought the papal envoy up to speed on the expedition’s findings.
‘The Nazis think it will provide proof of a link between the Aryans and the Maya, but I think they’re wrong. The Maya were amongst the greatest astronomers of the ancient world, and from my study of their hieroglyphics, I’m convinced they’re trying to warn us of a rare planetary alignment that will occur in 2012. It won’t affect you or I, of course, but anyone who’s alive in 2012 will need to prepare against the full force of the cosmos. And there may be a link between the warning in the codex and the warnings of the Virgin at Fatima, which makes me wonder why the three secrets the Virgin entrusted to the children at Fatima have been suppressed. Are they just a threat to the papacy, or do they speak of the annihilation of our civilisation?’
‘I wasn’t aware they had been suppressed,’ Felici replied, feigning surprise.
‘The Maya predicted the Marian appearance at Fatima, a thousand years before the secrets were transcribed,’ Levi continued, searching Felici’s face for any reaction.
‘How?’
Levi smiled enigmatically. ‘They left a warning on a stela which was found not far from here. We still have a lot to learn about the Maya, Signor Felici. We’re only scratching the surface. Astronomers have now confirmed their predictions for 2012, down to the last second. If humankind is to have any chance of responding, it’s vital this codex be found.’
Von Hei?en poured another generous shot of whisky into his tumbler.
‘Whisky, Signor?’ von Hei?en offered Felici, who had returned to von Hei?en’s tent.
‘Thank you, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer. You’re well set up out here.’
‘I like to think so, and, please, it’s Karl,’ von Hei?en replied, conscious of Himmler’s dictum to treat the papal envoy well. ‘So, what did the Professor have to say?’
‘He’s convinced the lost Maya Codex exists, although I wouldn’t trust him, Karl. He is, after all, a Jew,’ Felici intoned, raising his glass. ‘ Prost.’
‘Yes, but don’t worry, we’re watching him very closely. Prost! Did he give you any idea what the codex might contain?’
Felici shook his head. ‘Other than being convinced it’s here somewhere, he was very vague, Karl. But if he does find it, I’d be very grateful if we could discuss it before any release to the wider world.’
‘Of course. We’re on the same side here. And how are things at the Vatican? I gather the Pontiff is not well.’
‘Deteriorating rapidly, I’m afraid,’ Felici agreed.
‘Any word on his likely replacement?’
‘Are you a betting man, Karl?’
Von Hei?en smiled. ‘I’ve been known to have the odd wager, Signor.’
‘Then I’d put your money on the Cardinal Secretary of State, Eugenio Pacelli. If Pacelli’s elected, it’ll be a great boost for German-Vatican relations… The Cardinal Secretary of State is quite well disposed towards your Fuhrer.’ Felici was stretching the truth a little. Pacelli, he knew, had serious reservations, but the concordat between Hitler and the Vatican had greatly strengthened the power of the Holy Church in Germany, and Pacelli saw the Nazis as offering the best hope against the advancing tide of Communism.
‘We should stay in touch,’ von Hei?en opined, as he farewelled Felici from his tent. ‘Your proposal for a new Vatican Bank sounds very interesting. I’ve received word from Reichsfuhrer Himmler himself that once this expedition is concluded, I will most likely be posted to Mauthausen in Austria. If you’re ever in Vienna, I know some excellent restaurants.’
Felici nodded, slightly unsteady on his feet. ‘I’m in Vienna two or three times a year on business, so I’ll look forward to that. Gute Nacht und danke schon.’ Felici weaved his way towards his own tent, reflecting on the powerful forces gathering to Italy’s north, and von Hei?en’s impeccable connections to the highest levels of the Reich.
Von Hei?en reached for his diary and began to record the day’s events in characteristic detail.
Levi felt frustrated. In the nearly three months they’d been at Tikal, despite having sent several messages via the local villagers, Roberto Arana had not made contact. Levi leaned back in his canvas chair and looked out through the tent flap across the red-dirt airstrip. The day before, he’d received word to join the elders in the local village for a meal, and he wondered if Arana might at last appear tonight. In the time they’d been here, 129 skulls had been collected from around the ball court. Father Ehrlichmann had meticulously measured each one and made copious notes. And in that time Levi had also received several letters from Ramona, letters he was convinced had been opened. Levi was more homesick than ever for her touch, her laughter, and he worried about her safety and the safety of the children. He re-read the last paragraph of the letter he’d received earlier in the week.
I hope you won’t be away too much longer, darling. There are more Brownshirts on the streets than ever now, and Hitler is making more threats. I’ve sent you copies of Wiener Zeitung this week, and as you can see from the headlines, our own chancellor is stoically resisting the Nazis, but we are all wondering for how long. I miss you terribly, my sweet. I long for your touch.
Your Ramona. Always. xx
Levi knew he was running out of time. He’d thoroughly investigated Pyramids I, II, III, and IV, but without success. In Pyramid IV, he’d discovered a secret niche, much like the one where he’d discovered the male figurine in Pyramid I all those years ago, but the niche was empty. Had one of the figurines already been discovered by someone else? In the past week, he’d attempted to examine the small room beneath the decorative comb on top of Pyramid V, but each time he’d been disturbed by either von Hei?en or Father Ehrlichmann. It was as if his every move was being watched. Somehow he would have to find a way to examine Pyramid V late at night, after von Hei?en and Ehrlichmann had retired.
Levi looked at his watch: 5 p.m. Dusk was only an hour away. He would pay a courtesy visit to von Hei?en’s tent on his way to meet the village elders.
‘Well, Herr Professor. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’ von Hei?en sneered. The level in the bottle of Glenfiddich, one of several dozen von Hei?en had insisted be included in the cargo, was well down.
‘Just to let you know I’m sharing a meal with the villagers tonight. I’m not sure what time I’ll be back.’
‘Why do you want to eat with the hired help?’ Von Hei?en refilled his metal tumbler.
‘If you are to understand Mayan hieroglyphics, Sturmbannfuhrer, you must first understand the culture, and in any case I consider it an honour to share a meal with these people. They have much to teach us.’
‘Well, that’s your view, Weizman. If you want to go and eat beans and bananas, I’m not going to stop you. But you might remind the head honcho down there that I’ve yet to see the young woman I pointed out to him. Her name was Itzy something or other…’ Von Hei?en was already slurring his words. ‘We Germans are the descendants of the master race, Weizman, remind him of that, too.’
Levi turned on his heel, his anger rising. In von Hei?en and Himmler’s twisted world, ancient skulls could somehow provide proof of the master race, while the modern Maya descendants somehow fell outside of their bizarre mathematical calculations. Levi strode across the dirt airstrip and when he reached the jungle track that led to the village, he stopped and took several deep breaths. It was pointless enough arguing with von Hei?en when he was sober, he reminded himself, let alone when he was full of piss and wind.
The village was nearly three kilometres from the ruins, but Levi had only gone about half a kilometre when he sensed he was being followed. He turned to look back, peering past the heavy leaves and foliage hanging over the jungle track, but apart from a troop of howler monkeys above and the throaty squawks and screams of a pair of red macaws ahead, the track seemed deserted. Half an hour later he reached the river. The water ran swiftly, and the roar of the falls grew louder as Levi approached the rickety rope bridge that spanned the crossing point. It was hard to see in the eerie half-light, but again, Levi sensed movement a hundred metres or so along the track behind him. He moved off the track and waited.