The Florentine Deception (24 page)

“No—I'll take the camera.”

Again, the image cut, the tangle of webbing now replaced by a pair of undulating Day-Glo orange ropes that danced across the glistening, opalescent wall. The videographer panned the frame up just in time to catch the guide slithering smoothly down the rope and onto the ground.

“Pretty scary,” commented Steven. “How do they get back up?”

I clicked the pause button. “They're probably going to use ascenders.”

Steven stared blankly at me.

“I'll explain later. Let's keep watching, I want to see where they go.”

Steven nodded and I resumed the video.

After a brief exchange, the videographer surveyed their position with the camera; the two had rappelled into a pocked, bowl-shaped depression, perhaps twenty-five feet wide. Its center was filled with a completely still, brackish pool of water.

“That way,” said the guide from off-camera. The videographer walked along the edge toward the far end of the bowl. “And now, up.” The camera panned up the slope, capturing a series of hand-sized depressions in the smooth rock, then cut to black.

The video, and their descent, continued for another fifty minutes. By the seventy-third minute of the recording, the two had traversed perhaps an eighth of a mile into the earth, with virtually every phase of their journey captured in exquisite detail, and if I'd had any clue where the cave was, I was certain I could retrace their steps.

At sixty-four minutes in, the guide, now seemingly soaked with water, stood impatiently, waiting for his orders. A five-foot-high tube-shaped tunnel ran off into the darkness behind him.

“Please wait for me here, I'll only be a minute,” said the companion.

The video ended abruptly.

“Interesting,” said Steven contemplatively. He removed the first thumb drive from my laptop, laid it on the envelope, and replaced it with the second. A few seconds were enough to verify that its video was likely a duplicate, but he fast-forwarded several minutes just in case. The second copy was identical. He clicked the pause button and stood up.

“It's got to be a video-graphic treasure map,” he said, looking to me for confirmation.

“Maybe,” I mumbled.

“What do you mean, maybe?” he pressed. “What other possibility is there?”

None
, I thought despondently. We were back to square one. No Florentine. No closure. Only a map showing a descent into a cave that could be anywhere. And worse, with nothing tangible to hand over to the feds, I still had two psychopaths potentially gunning for me with no discernable way out.

“The bigger question is this,” Steven continued, “what
is
a Florentine Controller?”

I shrugged, too anxious to think clearly.

“Are you okay, Alex?” asked Hillary.

“Yeah, I'm just thinking,” I stammered.

“C'mon Alex,” Steven prodded, “just speculate. What could it be? What's a controller?”

“I don't know. I guess it's got to be small enough to fit in a backpack or they couldn't have dragged it down into the cave.” I ruminated. “Maybe a microcontroller of some sort,” I suggested.

“A microcontroller?” asked Hillary.

“A kind of microchip used to control electronics—they're used in consumer electronics but also in cars, planes, military systems, those kinds of things.”

“That sounds feasible,” said Steven, nodding. “Maybe someone's trying to hawk a prototype or the schematics for an advanced new chip? That could explain the five-million-dollar price tag. Any other ideas?”

“You know what I think?” said Hillary. “I think that it doesn't matter what it is. Look, whatever a Florentine Controller is, we know what it isn't, and that's a priceless diamond. Plus that cave could be literally anywhere—for all you know, it's in Pakistan.” She drew a deep breath. “You guys have just found a fortune's worth of antiquities downstairs, so why not quit while you're ahead and put this whole thing to rest.”

Steven opened his mouth to say something but I kicked him in the shin. He swallowed the word with a grimace.

She continued. “The last thing we need is for the two of you to get lost in some cave in God knows where. For heaven's sake, count your blessings and quit while you're ahead.” She sighed. “Just let it go.”

The room went silent save for Papa's soft snoring.

“You're right,” I stammered a few seconds later. “At this point, there's no reason to go any further.”

Hillary nodded and turned to Steven. “Agreed?”

Steven stared at my face a long second, then said, “Yeah. It's enough.”

“Good.” Hillary sighed. “I'm glad this whole thing is finally over.”

Papa stirred, then opened his eyes and looked around the table.

“I want to go home,” he moaned, “my elbow hurts.”

“We should get going too.” Hillary rose and motioned to Steven, who said, “I'm going to hang with Alex a while.”

“Be my guest,” said Hillary. “Alex, you mind dropping him off later?”

“Yeah, no problem. Can you take Papa back on your way home?”

“Sure. Papa, ready to go?”

“Yes.” Papa reached for his cane, shuffled over, and kissed me on the forehead. “I'm proud of you, kid. That was a hell of an adventure.”

And then he whispered softly in my ear. “And whatever you decide to do, just be safe. I love you.”

Chapter 38

“I'm fucked.” I walked over to the curio cabinet and picked up a mottled gold coin from the purple velvet matting. “That cave could be anywhere. And without the Florentine, I've got no options—I'm basically a sitting duck.”

“Dude, you've got to relax. Khalimmy's probably in Beirut by now. And you've got no evidence that the Russians are after you.”

“Wishful thinking,” I said, spinning the antique coin in my fingers and appreciating its heft.

“Alex, just take a second and relax. Do you realize we've just found millions in antiquities? Millions. You should be ecstatic. You've got to trust me, you're overreacting.”

“I hope you're right,” I said, setting the coin back on its matting. “But—”

“Well, if you're still worried, just give the drives to the FBI and be done with it.”

“And what? Ask them to go prospecting for the cave and send a crack team of government spelunkers in to hunt for the Florentine? They'll throw me in a psychiatric ward and shit-can the drives in the X-Files cabinet.” I huffed. “And even if we did give the video to the feds, it does nothing to get Khalimmy or the Russian off my back. So when one of them is threatening to yank my eyeball out with a corkscrew, how exactly am I going to convince him I don't have the Florentine Controller anymore? Whatever it is.”

Steven leaned against the wall by the weapons display and shook his head.

“Based on that line of reasoning, you've got two options,” he said, “you either live in constant fear for the foreseeable future, or you track down the Florentine and execute our original plan. Find the thing and hand it over to the feds or to
60 Minutes
or something. Once it makes primetime TV, you'll be the last thing on Khalimmy's and the Russian's minds. Assuming you want to live a normal life, what other choice do you have?”

“Easy for you to say,” I growled. “But, until we figure out where that cave is, the whole thing is moot.”

Steven grunted.

A small red LED began flashing on the wall above the Van Gogh.

“What the hell is that?” asked Steven.

I stared at the light, bewildered. “A silent alarm? Maybe to alert Richard Lister if someone enters the house?”

The light stopped flashing.

“We'd better check what's going on upstairs.” I grabbed the Ruger from the desk and shoved it in my pocket, then pointed to the weapons display next to Steven. “Grab that sword. We're not taking any chances.”

“It's a doorbell,” I said as I heard the knock at the front door. “The light's a silent doorbell.”

I stepped through the secret bookshelf opening, descended the stairs, and soundlessly padded up to the front door for a look. Linda waved cheerily from behind the keyhole.

“Linda's here.” I flipped the deadbolt and swung the door open. Linda stood in the doorway in a denim jacket, pink t-shirt and faded blue jeans, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Sorry I'm so late,” she said, hugging me, “there was a nasty smashup on Wilshire and it was chaos in the ER.” She stepped through the door.

“What's with the samurai sword?” she asked Steven with a wink. “You guys reenacting Pirates of the Caribbean or something?”

Steven blushed.

“If only,” I said. “It's a long story. But before I explain, let me introduce my good friend, Steven.”

Steven stared glassy-eyed at Linda. I couldn't blame him. With her slightly tousled damp hair, denim jacket, and teal sandals, she was stunning in her own totally casual sort of way.

“Holmes, this is Linda, my climbing buddy.”
My stunning, totally platonic, out-of-my-league climbing buddy
.

“Nice … Nice to meet you,” said Steven. “It's good to finally to put a face to your name. Alex's been talking about you for years.”

“Funny, Alex never mentioned you before.” Linda grinned, then said, “I'm just kidding, Steven. It's great to finally meet you, too.” She stepped up and extended her hand while I shut and bolted the front door. “Alex—this place is unbelievable,” she said, scanning the entryway.

“Thanks,” I said sheepishly. “Anyway, come on in.”

Linda kicked her sandals off next to the front door and followed us in bare feet down the hall.

“So did the lip-code work?” she asked. “Did you find the diamond?”

“Yes and no,” I said.

She looked puzzled.

“Just follow me and I'll show you.”

“I'm dumbstruck,” she said, walking from cabinet to cabinet in the panic room. She gingerly picked up the ankh to inspect it. “All this was just locked in here?”

“Trust me, we were totally stunned too. All along, we were expecting to find a diamond and we found this instead.”

“No diamond?” she asked, surprised.

“No,” said Steven, “that's a bit of a mystery.”

Linda gently set the ankh back on the shelf, then leaned against the edge of the desk, an expectant look on her face. “Willing to share it with me?” she asked after a moment of silence.

Steven turned to me and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“I'll trade you the story for some advice,” I said.

“You want me to be brutally honest?”

“Do I have any choice?”

“None whatsoever. Now out with it.”

“Okay. Bear with me.” I paused to collect my thoughts. “So we originally thought the Florentine was a diamond and that Richard Lister—”

“The cadaver with the lip code?” Linda interrupted.

“Right. We figured Richard locked the diamond in here.”

“I'm with you so far.” Linda nodded.

“But now we're pretty sure the Florentine isn't a diamond—in fact, the only thing we found in here relating to ‘the Florentine' was a pair of thumb drives labeled ‘Florentine Controller.'”

“Florentine Controller?” she asked, shaking her head. “What the heck is that?”

“Exactly our reaction,” said Steven. “But whatever it is, it's pretty clearly not a diamond.”

Linda leaned in. “Okay, so what was on the drives?”

“A video documenting a descent into a cave.”

“Come again, cowboy?” Linda looked perplexed.

“We think Richard Lister hid the Florentine Controller in a cave and documented its location with video.”

“Kind of like a computer version of a treasure map?”

“That was my theory,” said Steven.

“That cadaver's been busy,” she nodded approvingly.

“I like her,” said Steven.

“So are you thinking of spelunking for it? And if so, how do I get in on the expedition?”

“You may not want to when you hear the rest.”

“There's more?” Linda motioned me to continue. “Keep going, then.”

“Well, there's a hiccup. Remember that Khalimmy guy I told you about?”

“The guy who wanted to buy the diamond … or whatever it is, right?”

“Right. Well, he's still hunting for it, and now there's a Russian guy looking for it too. Bad people. They've already put Richard Lister's brother in a coma and nearly put us into body bags.” I briefly filled Linda in on the latest about Khalimmy and the Russian.

“So they were after Richard Lister for the Florentine, and now that you've got it—or at least they think you've got it—you're worried they're going to come after you.”

“You nailed it,” I said. “I was hoping we'd find the Florentine locked in here. Then we could have just handed it over to the FBI and been done with this.”

“Or given to the media to make a big stink about,” added Steven. “Once the word is out that Alex doesn't have it anymore, these guys no longer have a motive to come after him.”

“Okay, so why not just grab it from the cave and hand it over to Katie Couric?”

“Easier said than done,” I said. “We've got no idea where the cave is. So now we're back to square one, with at least one and maybe two psychopaths stalking me.”

“Not good, Alex,” said Linda, pacing around the small room. “I had no idea this thing was so serious.”

“Yeah, it's a big mess. I don't know what to do.”

“And this Khalimmy guy and the Russian? You don't know anything else about them?”

“Nothing,” said Steven. “Although Khalimmy's currently being hunted by the police, so I'm betting he's long gone.”

“I'm not so sure,” I said.

Linda bit her lip in thought. “I think your only out is to find this Florentine Controller thing and hand it over to the authorities. Or, like you said, Steven, to the media.” She scratched her head. “Out of curiosity, have you thought about searching online for the cave?”