The Puzzle of Piri Reis (6 page)

Print Number Two

Ted frowned. "Father claimed they were ancient
Egyptian puzzles from an obscure dynasty. He said no
one had ever been able to translate the writing."

Egyptian puzzles? I'd never heard of that, but then
all I knew about Egypt was that it was hot, and from
time to time archeologists dug up mummies from the
sand. I peered at the first print and grunted. "I'm not a
puzzle person, but looking at these, I'd wager a guess
no one will ever solve them"

He laughed. "Father was a puzzle freak."

I studied them a moment longer, unable to shake the
feeling that I had seen symbols like these before, but
where? One place I knew I hadn't spotted them was ancient Egypt.

In one corner of the den was a bust perched on an
Ionic column. "Who's that?"

"Magellan. Father admired him for his daring explorations."

I whistled softly and looked around the den with
misgiving. "Not a whole lot to work with."

He pointed to my shirt pocket where I had folded
the list of names he had provided. "Any of those could
have been here, and I wouldn't have known."

Or maybe you didn't want to know, I told myself,
remembering the five hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy naming him beneficiary. I slipped the
cards in my pocket. "That's enough for now. I'll get
back with you later today. I still want to search the den
myself."

Edna was coming out of her office when I reached
the bottom of the stairs. She smoothed the one-piece
print dress she wore and then unobtrusively covered
her left hand with her right. She looked up at me. "I
was hoping to see you before you got away. If I can
help in any way, Mr. Boudreaux, please let me know. I
thought the world of Mr. Odom"

I smiled. "Thanks. I'm planning on coming back
later today. I'd like to pick your brain about some of
Mr. Odom's acquaintances."

She nodded primly. "Certainly. I'm here until seven"

I climbed in my pickup and turned on the air conditioning. While the cab cooled down, I studied the imposing mansion, trying to figure out just where I should start. Had the map simply been hidden well or had it
been stolen?

Then I remembered the Wingate Museum of Art,
the major beneficiary of Bernard Odom's will. That
would be my first stop after checking in at the hotel.

Traffic in downtown San Antonio was just as congested as in Austin, the only difference being that Austin
drivers gave directional signals to deliberately confuse
those behind, while San Antonio drivers didn't even use
them because they figured everyone was a mind reader.

A couple of blocks from the inn, my cell rang. It
was Janice. Beatrice was home and resting well. "How
long do you think you'll be away, Tony?"

I held my breath, wondering if she would bring up
the subject of marriage again. "Hard to say, but I should
be coming back regularly. It's only an hour-and-a-half
drive. I'll probably be back in Saturday. I'll give you a
call"

"Fine, and don't forget the next Saturday. That's the
Halloween party at the Commodore Plaza."

To my relief, she punched off.

Leaving my laptop and printer in my Silverado, I
checked in and went to my room. Just as I began unpacking, a knock sounded at the door. I opened it and
stared into the grinning face of Jack Edney, an old pal
from Austin, holding a drink in his pudgy hand.

"Hey, Tony," he gushed, waddling past me into my room. "How's the boy? I was down on the River Walk
when I spotted you drive in."

Jack and I go way back. I wasn't surprised to see
him. Ever since he came into his millions, he had
turned into the proverbial will-o'-the-wisp. He could
turn up anywhere. In fact, he's helped me on a couple
of investigations, especially the one at Bayou Teche.
"What are you doing here? Where's Diane?"

Diane is my ex-wife. I ran into her in Vicksburg
where she worked with the National Park Service at
the battleground, and a couple of months later she was
transferred to LBJ's boyhood home in Johnson City
an hour or so west of Austin. I introduced her to Jack,
and they'd dated some the last few months.

His pan-shaped face broke into a grin. "She's on duty,
so I thought I'd take a short vacation over at the Hilton.
Hard work handling those millions of dollars" His eyes
glittered with laughter and a little too much booze.

I closed the door and returned to unpacking. "Poor
little rich boy, huh?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Well, like they say, it's a
dirty job but somebody's got to do it." He paused and
held up his glass. "Hey, how about a cool drink down
at the river? I know it's cheap and vulgar, but we can
sit there, drink icy drinks, and watch the women"

"Jeez, Jack. I figured all that money would change
you, but you know, you're even more lecherous now
than you were before."

His grin grew wider. "Yeah. Ain't that great? Now,
what about that drink?"

Closing my sports bag, I shook my head. "Can't. Got
a couple of stops to make. Tell you what. Is Pooky's
still on the River Walk?"

"Pooky's? Yeah"

"I'll meet you there at nine. If I can make it earlier,
I'll call your cell."

At four thirty, I pushed through the glass doors of the
Wingate Museum of Art into a spacious lobby, on the
walls of which hung numerous paintings overlooking
the shiny terrazzo floor. A dozen Corinthian pedestals
displaying busts of famous artists were spaced evenly
about the perimeter of the lobby. Arched doorways on
three walls led to various displays and exhibitions.

Unobtrusive signs on one arch pointed to the curator's office.

A young woman I guessed to be a college student
looked up and smiled. "Yes, sir?"

I introduced myself. "I'm a private investigator, and
I'd like to see the museum curator if he isn't busy,
please"

She nodded briskly. "May I ask the purpose of your
business, sir?"

Smiling amicably, I replied, "Tell him it has to do
with the will of Bernard Julius Odom."

For a moment, the smile on her face froze; then
quickly she rose and disappeared through the door behind her. Moments later, she opened the door and
smiled. "Please. Mr. Moffit will see you now."

George Moffit reminded me of a fence post with a hooked nose, a perfect caricature of how I always
imagined Ichabod Crane in The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. He offered a bone-thin hand with the grip of a
snail. "Mr. Boudreaux. Nice to meet you. Please, have
a seat"

He sat stiffly, his eyes wary. "Now, how may I be of
help?"

I'd been in the business long enough to know that individuals were always much more forthright with their
answers when they knew they had a personal stake in
the questioning. So, I decided to ratchet up the museum's personal stakes, so to speak. "I know the museum is included in Mr. Odom's will."

Nodding emphatically, he replied, "It was a tragedy,
a terrible, terrible tragedy"

I nodded. "The reason I'm here, Mr. Moffit, is that
some concerns have arisen in regard to the estate which
possibly could create questions concerning the will." I
held my breath, hoping I had been vague enough to raise
his level of concern about the museum's place in the
will.

The knit of his brows told me my little pretext had
been effective.

Without giving him a chance to respond, I continued. "You've heard of the Piri Reis Map"

"Oh, yes. Bernard-I mean, Mr. Odom allowed me
the honor of seeing it." He frowned, then hastily asked,
"Nothing happened to the map, did it?"

I started to ignore his question but then I decided to
be up front with him. Perhaps the more who knew of the missing map, the better the chance of getting a
break. "Yeah. It's missing."

He gaped at me in disbelief. "Are you certain? Why,
the map is invaluable."

"So I've been told. I've also been told that several
individuals wanted to buy the map."

"Yes. Mr. Odom did mention that offers had been
made" He shook his head. "But, he would never have
parted with the map"

I pulled out the list of names Ted had provided.
"For Mr. Odom to have thought so much of the museum speaks well for you as curator, Mr. Moffit" The
thin man beamed. I continued blowing smoke. "That's
why I have come to you. I need the opinion of a man
whose judgment I can trust. Hopefully, I can gather the
appropriate details to answer the questions presently
posed in regard to his will."

He hesitated. "I-I don't really understand. What
questions?"

I gave him a knowing smile. "I'm sorry, but I'm not
at liberty to say, Mr. Moffit. I just need your help"

He nodded emphatically. "Whatever I can do, Mr.
Boudreaux. Whatever I can do"

"Fine" I glanced at the list. "Do you know a man by
the name of Ervin Maddox?"

His face lit. "Mr. Maddox? Certainly. He is a museum benefactor and collector of various artworks. He
owns an antique shop on the River Walk. Cassandra's
Baubles. He is very dedicated to his collections and an
avid supporter of the museum."

"Did he know of the map?"

"Certainly." His brow knit. "Surely you don't think
Mr. Maddox had anything to do with the missing map?"

"Look, Mr. Moffit. We don't know if the map was
stolen or not. All we know is that it's missing. I'm visiting with everyone interested in the map, hoping one of
them might shed some light on the possible location.
Now, what else can you tell me about Ervin Maddox?"

He shrugged. "Not a great deal more. He's very private. Has never married from what I hear. I always
had the feeling he was competing with Mr. Odom"

"Competing?"

"Yes. Attempting to build a more valuable collection, be it artwork or first editions or ancient maps."
He drew a deep breath. "Mr. Odom's family has been
here for generations. Mr. Maddox moved here around
twenty years ago." He frowned wryly. "Sort of like the
nouveau riche trying to be accepted by old money, if
you know what I mean."

I knew what he meant. Ostentatious, but with a decided lack of culture. I jotted a few notes. "What about
Leo Cobb? I think he and Odom worked together at
times."

A faint sneer curled Moffit's lips. "Oh, yes, Mr.
Cobb. Unfortunately, we need his sort. They are the
ones who often come up with remarkable discoveries
of art, although sometimes they take-let's see, how
can I put it?-they take some license with the manner
in which they acquire the piece of work. He is the one
through whom Bernard purchased the Piri Reis Map"

"Any idea where he found it?"

"No" Moffit shook his head. He hesitated, staring
at me as if he wanted to say more.

"And?" I prompted.

"Well, from time to time Cobb has offered the museum various artifacts, but with occasional items he
could never provide a link of ownership with which I
felt comfortable; consequently I purchased only a few
of his goods. Five years ago, he came to me with the
news of the map. I wanted it. I desperately wanted it,
but I turned him down for that reason. And then I sent
him to Bernard. That way, at least I would know the
location of the map" He studied me for several moments. "Understand, Mr. Boudreaux. The museum and
its treasures are my life. I would do all possible to protect them or any valuable artifact, such as the map, that
came to my attention."

"What about Father Bertoldo Poggioreale?"

"The priest at L'Universita di Grazia e la Fratellanza? I know of him. He is an expert on ancient maps,
but I've never had the privilege to meet him."

The phone on his desk rang. "Excuse me" He picked
up the receiver and barked into it. "I told you I was not
to be disturbed, Linda. I'm quite busy on important
matters for the museum" He listened another moment.
"I will call him back"

He replaced the receiver and grinned sheepishly.
"Forgive me. My secretary's a wonderful young student at the university. Some of our callers can intimidate her, but she'll learn"