The Forty Column Castle (25 page)

A cry of elation went up from the diggers. All three worked at pulling out the reluctant
stone they had been chipping around the edges. I looked around for a rock or something
to throw or hit with, just in case. Sure enough, they held up a metal box. One thief
lifted the lid and in the ray of a moon beam, I caught the glint of something shiny.
The other two grabbed the box at the same time.

“Stop right there and freeze.”

I recognized that female voice. Helena. There she stood on the wall above the latrines,
gun in hand, looking like a dark Athena. The thieves looked up at the same time, more
surprised than I was to see Helena standing over them. Through the archway trotted
Inspector Polydeuces with three other police men, guns drawn.

I sighed out all the breaths I had been holding. Then Zachariah Lamont rolled over
onto his side and sat up much to the astonishment of the thieves. He stood, brushing
himself off and dabbing at the sticky liquid on his shirt.

“Bullet proof vests do come in handy, Princess, but this catsup-honey combo is a bit
too sticky sweet for my taste.”

The wedding took place in July.

Aunt Elizabeth declared that since this was the first time she was getting married
she wanted a properly planned affair so all her friends could attend. It took that
long to arrange all the guests’ trips to Sicily.

The three English widows came, as well as Salvatore’s children and their families,
who took to my aunt with wide open Sicilian arms. According to the relatives, their
mother had been quite severe. Aunt Elizabeth was quite the opposite, always with a
twinkle in her eye and a funny story to tell. She fit right in to the warm, happy
side of Sicily.

Salvatore, I could tell, was enchanted. His home in Sicily was cut out of a hillside
dotted with Cypress and pines, overlooking the sea near Taormina, a popular resort,
complete with Greek and Roman ruins, sandy beaches, and a phenomenal view of steaming
Mt. Etna. The family was from a village in the hills surrounded by countryside alive
with citrus groves, vineyards and walnut trees. The village church was no bigger than
a small chapel, and the entire village turned out for the party which was held outdoors
under the olive trees in Sal’s personal olive grove. They honeymooned in a Tuscan
castle, where I’m sure they got into some hanky-pank.

The thieves were awaiting trial. Word was that the prison sentence would be a long
one. Inspector Polydeuces rounded up the rest of the terrorist cell which fell apart
without the front thieves, who provided the cash for the operation. Inspector Polydeuces
came to the wedding, too.

Lena came after she got over being furious for my not contacting her for five whole
days. She got over it fast when she realized my aunt and I were both fine. The mutual
fund survived. We added an office manager and were looking for another financial partner
to add to the fund management, as new opportunities were opening up all the time in
Europe and the Mediterranean, Africa, Asia, Latin America.

As for Zachariah Lamont -- we walked back to the car after Inspector Polydeuces hauled
the four thieves away from the Forty Column Castle.

“What now, Princess?” Zach said.

We walked arm and arm over the stony path along the shore as the moon set. The sky
began to lighten in the east over my beloved island of Cyprus. I walked under his
clean arm as the side with the catsup and honey was pretty disgusting.

“I’m hungry, how about breakfast?”

“Excellent idea. But I was referring to your longer term plans after we have breakfast.”

“That’s real long term.” I laughed, feeling tired but a good tired that permeated
every cell in my body. “I intend to get some sleep.”

“Yes?”

“Real sleep as in eyes closed, alone in my room at Yannis’s house.”

“Princess, you make me sad. I was hoping I could entice you into a nice breakfast
at the Coral Bay Resort and then a wonderful relaxing bath in a big Jacuzzi and then
a nice, cool lay on the clean sheets of a king size bed. What do you say?”

“You’re wounded. I don’t think you should overextend yourself.”

“This is nothing.” He brushed over the holes the bullets made in the front of his
shirt. “Just a few bruises. My face is healing up. Look, hardly any black and blue.”

I examined his eye and cheek. “I’ll take you up on the invitation. But I’m calling
my aunt, Yannis and Lena as soon as we get to the hotel to let them know we’re all
right and that life can proceed on.”

“It’s a deal.”

Later, as we lay together entwined on top of that king size bed in the coolness of
the room, another fiery sunset splashing over the skies of Coral Bay, Zach said, “What
I am really asking is what will you do now that all this is over?”

I sighed the wonderful contentment of a well-sated woman. “I’m going to stay on a
few more days in Cyprus and recover my strength. How about you?”

“Me, too. I have some R & R coming. I take a few weeks off after an assignment. But
what about after that?”

“I’ll go back to Boston. But I might be back. I’m thinking of opening an office on
Cyprus. How about you?”

“I’m going shopping for an island.”

THE END

Marjorie Thelen lives and writes novels outside a small town on the Oregon frontier.
She enjoys writing stories that entertain her and, hopefully, her readers.
The Forty Column Castle
is the first in the series Mystery-in-Exotic-Places. The next in the series is
The Hieroglyphic Staircase
set in Copan, Honduras. If you would like to learn more, visit her web site:

www.MarjorieThelen.com