The Columbus Affair: A Novel (23 page)

That was sound thinking. “But it couldn’t be in any known cave, could it?”

“It’s a starting point.”

“You don’t think I’m so crazy anymore, do you?” he asked.

“All I know, Béne, is that this island wasn’t noted for gold. There was a little here and there in the streams, but Jamaica’s worth was its soil and location. We sat right in the middle of the trade routes, and this dirt can grow just about anything. The Spanish never recognized that, and Ferdinand never believed in any lost mine. That’s why he gave the island to the Columbus heirs. He considered this place worthless. The legend came later. Ceding Jamaica was the easy way to get the Columbus family off his back. He was done with them. Finally.”

“I have men who can scour that valley,” Béne said.

“Not yet. Let’s see if we can narrow things down. I’ve checked the deed you found. The rivers and streams mentioned are by their Spanish names, but we know what those translate to today. I think I can limit the search area.”

He heard something else in Halliburton’s voice. “What is it?”

“There’s another source of documents, Béne. From the Spanish time. The curator in the archives last night reminded me about them. Few have ever seen them, but they could prove helpful. It’s held privately.”

“Where?”

“Cuba.”

A
LLE ENTERED
S
T
. S
TEPHEN’S AND IMMEDIATELY SPOTTED
Z
ACHARIAH
standing a couple of hundred feet away, at the far end of the nave.

She walked toward him.

He was dressed impeccably, as always, standing tall and straight, not a hint of concern on his bearded face. He stood in the center of the transept. She came to within a few feet and stopped.

“Are you all right?” he immediately asked.

“Why did you want me dead?”

“Is that what they told you?
I
wanted you dead.”

“Your man took me off into the woods with orders to kill me.”

He shook his head. “Alle, he was not working for me. He worked for Brian Jamison. That man disappeared yesterday from my estate. He was Jamison’s spy.”

She knew that to be true, but wondered how he knew.

“I am here,” Zachariah said, “because of your father. He did not keep his end of the deal in Florida and insisted we meet. Jamison’s employer contacted me yesterday and told me they had you. They wanted to get to me through you. So they took you, and lied about me.”

“Who does Brian work for?”

“A man named Béne Rowe, whom I should have never dealt with, if only for the reason that he placed you in jeopardy.”

“Where’s Rócha?”

“I know you are upset about the video. I am dealing with Rócha on that. It will not go unpunished. But it did cause your father to act.”

Which was true.

“I tried to tell you several times that there are people who will want to stop our quest. Béne Rowe and Jamison are two of those. They are interfering in what we were doing—”

“I saw what happened in Florida when you went after my father.”

“You saw?”

“A camera was there.”

“There was no choice. I had to confront him. But when he asked for a meeting
here
to make the trade, I agreed.”

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Right here.”

She turned, as did Zachariah.

Her father stood a few feet away.

———

T
OM STUDIED HIS DAUGHTER
. H
ER DARK HAIR HUNG LONGER
than a few years ago, but was still wavy. Her swarthy skin and compact frame came from him, as did her blunt nose, high cheeks, and rounded jaw. The brown eyes were her mother’s. Like him, she wore no eyeglasses or other jewelry. She was dressed in jeans, a pullover shirt, and flat-soled boots. Watching her, he instantly thought of Michele. Truly her mother’s daughter.

“Mr. Sagan,” Simon said. “Here she is, as promised. Now, can I have what is mine?”

He faced Alle. “You all right?”

She nodded but offered nothing more. What bothered him was the fact that she and Simon had arrived separately and spoken calmly, as if they were familiar with each other.

“Mr. Sagan,” Simon said. “I want what you have.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t give it to you?”

“Your daughter is here, as I promised. Can not our business be concluded?”

Something wasn’t right. Alle displayed none of the emotion he would have expected from someone who’d been tied to a bed and molested by strangers. He searched her eyes, looking for anything that might explain his misgivings, but she offered nothing.

“Give him what he wants,” she finally said to him.

“Your grandfather would not want me to do that.”

“How would you know?”

“I read what he left in his grave.”

He saw she was curious, but he did not elaborate. Instead, he removed a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Simon. “This is it. A note to me.”

As Simon read he watched Alle, who clearly seemed uncomfortable.

“This is all?” Simon asked.

“Abiram was a man of few words. That was actually a long conversation for him. I think the note makes clear that I had no idea he was some kind of Levite. Now that task is supposedly mine.”

“As I told you in Florida, you are not worthy even to say that word.”

“Are we done?”

Simon nodded. “Our business is concluded. Perhaps you can now finish what you started at your father’s house.”

He resisted the urge to slug the SOB. “Or maybe I’ll shoot you.”

Simon frowned. “There is one other matter you might care about. Something I doubt your daughter will tell you. She was not kidnapped. At least not by me. She willingly participated in the charade you witnessed.”

He told himself to stay calm.

“Tell him,” Simon said to Alle. “The truth is always best.”

Alle said nothing, but she was clearly surprised by Simon’s admission.

“I mention this because she actually was kidnapped yesterday by others, released today thanks to me.”

“I was told
you
were going to kill me,” Alle said.

“I assure you, the danger was from them, not me.” Simon faced Tom. “Her kidnappers work for a business associate of mine who decided to change our relationship. I intervened and made a deal for her release. I mention this because the man who took her prisoner just entered the church.”

———

A
LLE WHIRLED AND SAW
B
RIAN, STANDING AT THE OPPOSITE END
of the nave. He’d said he was going to wait outside.

Another lie.

“He is no friend of mine,” Zachariah said, “or yours. I wish you well.”

“I’m going with you,” she said.

“Your father would never allow it. Talk to him. Work through whatever needs to be said between the two of you.”

An unnatural fear filled her. One she’d never felt before. “Why did you sell me out?”

“The truth is never a bad thing, is it, Mr. Sagan?”

“I guess you’ll find out.”

———

Z
ACHARIAH LEFT AND WALKED ACROSS THE CHECKERBOARD
tiles to where Brian Jamison waited. Casually, he slipped the paper Sagan had given him into his trouser pocket. He stopped a few feet away.

“Get what you wanted?” Jamison asked.

“That’s between me and your boss.”

“So you’re just going to walk right out of here? Let them go? Let me have them?”

He turned back toward where Alle and Tom Sagan stood.

“Not exactly.”

———

T
OM WATCHED THE SCENE A HUNDRED FEET AWAY, THEN ASKED
Alle, “Is what he said true?”

She did not answer him, but he saw uncertainty and fear in her face, both of which caused him alarm.

“That man there,” she said. “His name is Brian Jamison and he did take me prisoner yesterday. What Zachariah said about him could be true.”

The man started their way as Simon left the church.

Thank goodness he was ready.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Out of here.”

He led her across the transept to the iron gate with the attendant. No more tickets for the catacombs were being checked. Inna had arranged for him to have a private tour after the underground area closed for the day. He’d talked with the attendant earlier and she was expecting him, waving them both through. A quick glance back and he saw the man called Brian heading straight for the entrance. Tom stepped to where the tile floor stopped and the stone risers started their decent. He passed through the gate, then grabbed the iron bars and slammed them shut, the lock clicking into place. When he’d arrived a couple of hours ago he’d noticed that the doorway would take a key to reopen. The surprised attendant surely held that key, but the minute or two that would buy them would be critical to their escape.

He’d thought Simon would be his enemy.

Now there was a new threat.

“Follow me,” he told Alle.

And they raced down the stairs into the crypt.

———

Z
ACHARIAH HESITATED AT THE MAIN DOORS AND WATCHED AS
Alle and her father entered the catacombs. Sagan had apparently closed the iron gate, which stopped Jamison’s advance, the cathedral attendant now trying to reopen the lock. He’d wondered what Rowe would do next. Apparently he still wanted Alle Becket—and now her father. He’d compromised Alle because he wanted her to go with her father. That way Rócha could deal with them both. Of course, he assumed they would leave through the main doors.

But that was not the case.

And what Sagan had said to him about the truth.

“I guess you’ll find out.”

Something was wrong.

He stepped outside and immediately spotted Rócha. He gestured and his man trotted over and said, “I saw Jamison go in.”

“They are all headed down into the catacombs.”

He wondered if this might be an opportunity.

“Come.”

And he and Rócha reentered the church.

T
OM HUSTLED DOWN THE STAIRS WITH
A
LLE CLOSE BEHIND
.

They found the bottom.

Before them stretched a maze of passageways, all hewn from bedrock centuries ago. Now it was an elaborate, Baroque necropolis where bishops and provosts lay buried. He’d studied the cathedral guidebook while waiting and had learned the layout, knowing where he had to go. When he’d met with Inna, one favor had been to get him inside the cathedral unnoticed.

The other had been to get him out.

“That way,” he pointed.

———

Z
ACHARIAH HALTED HIS AND
R
ÓCHA’S ADVANCE AND THEY
sought cover behind one of the pillars. Brian Jamison hurried the attendant, who was still trying to reopen the gate. The commotion had drawn some attention from visitors, but not much. He’d toured the catacombs before. Lots of tombs, crypts, and bones. But he wondered. Was there another way out?

The older woman fumbled with her keys and finally inserted the right one into the lock.

Jamison disappeared, descending stairs.

He and Rócha rushed forward just as the woman was beginning to relock the gate. He was careful to keep his face angled away from her.

“Entschuldigen sie bitte,”
he said as they slipped past.

The older woman opened her mouth to speak, but Rócha slammed the gate shut behind them.

———

A
LLE WAS CONFUSED AND SHAKEN
. S
HE’D HAD NO CHOICE BUT
to go with her father. Zachariah had sold her out. He seemed irritated. But how could she blame him? She’d accused him of trying to kill her. Had he in fact saved her? And was it Brian, not Zachariah, lying to her?

She had no idea.

She knew about the catacombs, though. A series of vaulted subterranean rooms. Lots of clergy were buried here, along with the bodies, hearts, and viscera of the Hapsburgs who, for centuries, ruled much of Europe. There were also the bones of over 11,000 people moved from the cemeteries above after an outbreak of plague in the mid-18th century. Their remains lay in massive piles, the display a bit macabre for her tastes. She recalled from her tour that the subterranean rooms flowed one into the other, each lit from the amber glow of incandescent fixtures. Her father seemed to know exactly where he was going, bypassing the main visitor areas that lay straight from the stairs, leading them left toward the bone rooms. Along the way they passed several notable tomb monuments with elaborate copper coffins.

She stopped. “Where are we going?”

He turned. “Out of here.”

“How do you know there’s a way out?”

She caught the irritation on his face.

“Contrary to what you may think, I’m not stupid. I thought ahead.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Maybe because I got to watch while my daughter was groped by two men, tied to a bed. You think that might motivate someone? Now I’m told the whole thing was an act. Was it, Alle?”

She hadn’t seen anger from her father in a long while and its presence
unnerved her. But lying seemed useless. “He was right. It was an act.”

He stepped closer to her. “And you have the nerve to judge me.”

She knew what he meant. All those times she’d told him what a lousy husband and father he’d been, calling him a liar, a fraud, culminating at her mother’s funeral when she demanded he leave.

“Nothing to say?” he asked.

“I wanted you to open the grave. I knew you wouldn’t do it if I simply asked.”

“I wouldn’t have. But you still should have asked.”

They stood at a junction where the main passage continued ahead and another disappeared left. A placard indicated that the bone rooms lay that way. Movement to her right caught her eye.

Fifty feet away Brian appeared.

Her father saw him, too.

Their pursuer reached beneath his jacket. She knew what he kept there.

The shoulder holster.

A gun appeared.

———

T
OM REACTED TO THE SIGHT OF THE WEAPON, DECIDING INSTANTLY
that they could not flee straight ahead, as this man would have a clear shot at them. Earlier, when he’d reconnoitered the catacombs, Inna had shown him the shortest way out—which, unfortunately, waited where they could not go.