G ia Cavano stormed into the entryway of her villa along the Mediterranean coast just west of Naples and picked up the first thing she could grab, a crystal Steuben vase displayed on the hall table. She hurled it into the wall, showering the floor with glass shards.
The destruction felt good, but she still burned with fury.
As a maid rushed over to sweep up the remains of the vase, Cavano stomped through the living room and onto the terrace overlooking the sea. Her cousin Salvatore followed her. He wasn’t too bright, which Cavano liked, but he was efficient and provided the necessary brawn. He’d been a faithful servant since her husband died.
“Quell’idiota, Pietro!” Cavano yelled, kicking one of the chairs over. “If he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him,” she continued in Italian.
“Locke will pay. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Do you realize what yesterday cost me? The wrecked Lamborghini and the repairs to the Ferrari will cost over three hundred thousand euros, not to mention the destroyed BMW and the Zonda I had to buy.”
“And we lost three men.”
“Yes, of course. Three more families to feed.” The Cavanos looked after their own, especially when soldiers died. It guaranteed their loyalty to know that their families would be secure.
Rodel had sent a car to pick her up when the Zonda ran out of gas. She left the police to investigate the death in the Boerst garage and the disintegrated Lamborghini. The Ferrari was found not long after with two bullet holes in it. Through Rodel, she reported it stolen and left the city before they could ask her any questions.
Now she had full ownership of the Ministry of Health building, but demolition work couldn’t begin until Monday morning. Even with her power, she couldn’t compel the Italian unions to bring in the heavy machinery she’d need on a weekend.
As long as she kept Orr at bay until she broke through into the tunnels, the gold would be all hers.
But Locke had followed her specifically for the device. The video recordings that Rodel had supplied for her showed that Locke had tried the BMW first and had fought Pietro, eventually pushing the car over the edge. The cap Locke wore had hidden his face, so the police wouldn’t be able to make a positive identification, and she certainly wasn’t going to report him. She wanted to take care of him herself.
She just had to figure out why he’d risked so much to get it. It was obviously critical to his search, as was the tablet he’d stolen. Eventually he would come to Naples. He and Orr would have to.
“Are we keeping watch on the airport and the train station?” she asked.
“I have men waiting at both. If Orr, Locke, Benedict, or Westfield shows up, we’ll know.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. Orr was a master at hiding his identity, and he’d know he would be vulnerable in Naples. Locke, on the other hand, seemed determined and resourceful, but he wasn’t a criminal skilled at covering his tracks.
“Put feelers out to all the hotels, too. Have them look for anything different from the typical tourist or businessman.”
“What should we do if we spot any of them?”
“Protecting the gold is the first priority.” Sal was the only one of her men who knew what they were searching for.
“So we should kill them when we find them?”
Cavano paused. Killing them on sight was the smart thing to do. Three shots, execution style. Naples had the highest murder rate in western Europe, and the polizia made few arrests.
But unease crept over her. What if Orr or Locke already knew how to find the gold? If she killed either of them, she wouldn’t know what the other was planning. If they got to the chamber before she did, she might lose out on the Midas treasure altogether.
“Kill them only as a last resort. Capture them if you can. But do not let them get away, no matter who has to die to prevent it.”
“Understood.”
Cavano paced as she tried to think like her adversary. “Orr is looking for some other way to the gold. I’m sure the tablet and Locke’s device have something to do with his search, but I don’t know what.”
“What about the British Museum?” Sal said. “When I was following Westfield, he talked to Lumley for a long time.”
“When I called Lumley back, he told me that he couldn’t decipher what the codex meant.”
“Maybe the device has something to do with the codex and that’s why Locke took it back from us.”
That stopped Cavano. Maybe Sal wasn’t as dumb as she thought.
She felt her blood pressure rising again. Lumley had withheld information from her. She retrieved her phone and dialed the archaeologist’s cell.
“Hello,” he said tentatively.
“It’s me. Don’t lie to me this time. Tell me what you told Westfield.”
“I didn’t lie. I really couldn’t help him-”
She didn’t have time for this. “If you don’t tell me what you know, I will strap you to a table and make you watch as I pull out your entrails one by one.”
Lumley gulped audibly. “All… all right. Of course. Mr. Westfield was particularly interested in two statues of the Parthenon’s west pediment-Herakles and Aphrodite.”
“Why?”
“The codex referenced those two figures as a key to some kind of puzzle, but I don’t know what.”
“Have they come back to the museum?”
“Oh, no. I don’t think they would.”
“You mean they solved the puzzle?”
“I don’t know. The codex implied that one would have to be at the Parthenon in person to understand what it meant.”
At the Parthenon. “ Grazie, Doctor.”
“Am I free now?”
“No. I may call again at any time, and if you don’t answer, I will take that as a sign of disrespect. Do you understand?”
Lumley wheezed into the phone. “Absolutely.”
She hung up.
With a day’s head start, it was possible she was already too late to get Locke, Benedict, and Westfield, but it was the only lead she had.
“Get Adamo and Dario,” she said to Sal. “Since they were at the museum, they’ll recognize Grant Westfield. Send them to Athens tonight. I think Locke and his friends may be there already.”
“Should I go with them?”
“No, I want you here in Naples. If they slip through, they’ll come here next.”
“What should Adamo and Dario do in Athens?”
“Find photos of Locke and Benedict to give them. I want them at the Parthenon from opening to closing.”
“And if they find all three of them?”
Getting them all back to Italy would be difficult. The best bet would be to charter a boat.
Cavano could already feel her heartbeat ease and her muscles relax. For the first time in twenty-four hours, she felt back in control.
“We don’t need all three,” she said. “Capture Locke. Kill Benedict and Westfield.”