A Richer Dust Concealed: A gripping historical mystery thriller you won’t be able to put down!

by R P Nathan

  I was irritated by his lack of combativeness. I’d been expecting a full blown shouting match with him. This was just plain weird. “Why, what have you seen?”

  “The town, last night.” He rolled his eyes. “It was like there was some kind of epidemic. People being sick everywhere. I mean vomit absolutely everywhere. And urine. Drunken English girls lying in the gutter with drunken English boys taking a piss right by them. They couldn't walk and they couldn’t talk.” He looked close to tears. “The music is so loud and I just don’t understand what any of them are doing here.”

  “Julius, this is Ayia Napa. The clubbing capital of Europe. What did you expect?”

  “What did I expect?” His voice rose to a shrill whine. “What did I expect? I’ll show you what I bloody expected.”

  He pulled a blue book from the satchel by his side and read from it. “Ayia Napa is a quiet fishing village with many sandy beaches. Good local seafood and a beautiful monastery in the centre of town dedicated to—”

  I snatched the book from him and looked inside the front cover. “Julius your guidebook is from 1976. Didn’t it occur to you things might have changed since then?”

  He wrung his hands. “It’s my uncle’s book. I had no idea. Simply no idea.”

  “Well what about the girls here? I’d have thought you’d have been in your element.” A pair of twenty-year-olds walked past in their bikinis, pretty and tanned.

  “Oh be careful,” he said, his voice trembling. “They look luscious don’t they? I tried my hand with a couple, to help me settle in, to calm my nerves. But I couldn’t understand them. If they’d been French or Italian that would have been fine. But John they were from Britain. From Newcastle or Scotland or some other Godforsaken place. I couldn’t understand their accents and their weird youthspeak. I have no idea what anyone around me is saying or doing.”

  His left leg started shaking and he laid a hand on his thigh to control it. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There he was before me, a quivering shambles of a man. The man I had hated my whole adult life.

  I sighed.

  “Look, Julius, why don’t we get out of here and have some food and a chat.”

  Hi eyes widened. “John, please, yes. I’m starving. Everywhere I look are inedible pizza and kebabs and English breakfasts with signs in four different languages, none of them Greek. Where are the tavernas and family run restaurants selling fresh fish and seafood?”

  “I’ll find you one Julius.”

  “You will?” He reached out and touched my arm. “Truly?”

  ◆◆◆

  Half an hour later we were sitting in a quiet restaurant on the edge of town. Julius had already had some calamari and was now tucking into a huge plate of sardines. I watched him uneasily and picked over a simple Greek salad, having little appetite. Only when the fish was gone and the plate wiped clean with the last piece of bread did Julius sit back in his chair. He sipped on a glass of red wine and breathed deeply. There was a light again in his eyes.

  “John, I want to thank you.” His voice was calm, in control once more. “I lost it a little bit back there, but I think I’ll be fine now.”

  I looked at him warily. I trusted him better when he didn’t look so self-assured.

  “You’re probably wondering why I came to Cyprus?” He lowered his glass to the table and ran his finger around the rim. “I mean why I came without telling you or Patrick.”

  “It’s obvious isn’t it? You wanted to find the cross on your own. You’ve worked out the code, I take it?”

  “Naturally. The key was in the file Patrick gave me. I hadn’t intended to do anything with it until Patrick was better. But to be honest with you the temptation was too great. By the end of that evening I’d decoded the whole passage and there was the letter in front of me.”

  “Was your Italian good enough to translate it?”

  “Mostly. Plus I’m fortunate enough to have an Italian friend at the moment. A lovely girl if a touch shy.” He took another sip of wine. “She helped me with the areas I was uncertain on. By Friday I was done.”

  “So why didn’t you just call Patrick?”

  “John, I had a dilemma. The last thing I wanted was to get Patrick excited again after his breakdown. God knows I feel guilty enough about involving him in the first place.”

  “What about me?”

  “You’re right. I should have contacted you.”

  I was nonplussed at the frankness of his admission.

  “The thing was that once I had the text I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’m sure you of all people can understand that; the feeling of having Polidoro’s actual words in front of me. So I read and re-read it and surmised that it was the monastery at Agia Napa that he’d been taken to on that morning in 1570. You know all of this of course. When did you break the code?”

  “A couple of years ago.”

  “And you did nothing about it? You take the notion of delayed gratification to the limit.”

  “Well I didn’t think there was any rush,” I said embarrassed. “I didn’t realise you’d head off to steal the cross for yourself.”

  “I think steal is a bit harsh.”

  “Weren’t you intending to find the cross?”

  “Of course. But not steal it. I wanted to recover it and document my findings for posterity.”

  “Yes but with posterity noting that you were the one that found it. Julius alone. Master archaeologist, perhaps?”

  “Nice ring to it,” he said unruffled. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you. I certainly do want to find the cross. And be the first one at that. But my main reason for not telling Patrick about it was that I thought it would be too much for him.”

  “So you thought you’d just dash off over here at the last minute. You thought that would help Patrick more?”

  “We all make mistakes. In any case I was always intending to see Patrick the moment I return. Come to think of it…” He frowned. “How did you even know I was out here?”

  “Madeleine told us. She was staying at your flat.”

  “Was she now?” He raised his eyebrows. “Well that’s something to sort out when I get back. Look, John,” he said lowering his voice, “we’re not kids any more. I want to find that cross. The very idea of it gives me a thrill I find very difficult to control. And I’m as selfish as the next man. I want to be the first. There’s nothing wrong in that. I mean, what exactly are you doing out here? Did you tell Patrick you were coming?”

  “No of course not.”

  “Of course not. And you’re out here why? Just to stop me finding the cross? Or so you can find it instead of me?” He gave me a sly little smile. “I mean you’ve studied this thing a lot longer than I have. God knows if anyone deserves to find it it’s you.”

  I frowned at him and tried to frame my reasoning for being there. “I just... I mean...”

  He held up a hand. “It’s OK, John. It doesn’t matter. We’re not so different the two of us. We want the same thing. To find the cross and prove it’s real. What we do after that is where we might differ.”

  I looked at him uncomfortably. He poured himself another glass of wine and raised it at me in salute.

  “Do you think it’s there?” I asked him eventually.

  He smiled at me and his eyes sparkled. “Oh yes.” He sat forward in his chair and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m certain of it. Everything I’ve read points to it. It’s all consistent. The description of the cross, Polidoro’s journal, the fact that he didn’t want to reveal it to the Council of Ten. It all makes sense. It’s there I’m sure of it. What about you?”

  “I’m here aren’t I?”

  He sat back in his chair. “Yes you are.” He considered me for a moment and then nodded. “OK, John, how do you want to play this? Do you want to do it together or separately?”

  “Why should I want to do anything with you?”

  He shrugged. “No reason, of course. It’s clear you don’t like me.”
>
  “Or trust you.”

  “OK, that’s clear as well.” He smiled. “But I’ve got a day’s head start on you. So maybe I’m further ahead in the game than you are.”

  “So why would you want to help me?”

  “Because it’s your game. You found the book originally. Even I acknowledge that. If you want to come with me then the least I can do is let you. If you want to do it on your own then that’s fine as well.”

  “What about wanting to be the one to find it first?”

  “That’s no problem. We can both have our names on it. At the end of the day I’ll get more attention because I’m part of the art world already.”

  “Well, that’s certainly honest.”

  “I’m just being realistic. That’s the way life works. But you aren’t doing this for the fame. You’re not even doing it for the money. If it’s anything like the way Polidoro describes it, the cross is priceless; but that’s not why you’re here. You’re doing it because you just want to know whether this whole thing is real or not.”

  “Why I’m here is nothing to do with you.” I scowled. Then sighed. “What do we do with the cross when we’ve found it?”

  “Present it to the Cypriot authorities at a press conference. Unless you had some other plan in which case I’m happy to listen?”

  “No. That’s the right thing to do.” I frowned. “You know we’re not the only ones looking for this don’t you?”

  “To whom are you referring?”

  “A man called Loredan. A Venetian terrorist.” Julius raised an eyebrow. “He’s been looking for the cross for years. And Madeleine said some book guy you know is also involved. An Italian. They’ll both be here by now.”

  “Who? Galbaio? What the hell’s he got to do with this?”

  Galbaio. The name triggered something in my mind, but just out of reach, not quite accessible. It’ll come to me, I thought.

  Julius was talking. “This would be the most significant find in Byzantine art in two centuries; of course there are people hunting it. I’d be more surprised if there weren’t.”

  “They’re serious though. Loredan’s men roughed up Patrick and Sarah—”

  “Are they OK?” He sounded suddenly anxious.

  “Yes they’re fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” I don’t know why but his display of concern really irritated me. “I was there. Anyway, Loredan and his goons know you’re here. And if I managed to find you they will too.”

  “Let them find me. It’s of no concern. By tonight we’ll have the cross and by tomorrow lunchtime we’ll have publicised it. And then they’ll be too late.” He shrugged and I shrugged too. And then a thought occurred to me.

  “When we find it,” I said coyly. “Who gets to lift it out of the hole?”

  Julius laughed. “We’ll take it in turns. Holding it up to let the morning sun shine on it. Just like Bragadino did. To stare deep into the sapphire at its heart. Just like Polidoro. That’s what you want isn’t it?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “I know that’s what I want.” He smiled at me and drummed his fingers on the table. After a moment he said, “If you want, you can take the cross out of the hole first. But to the press we say we did it together.”

  “OK,” I said and put out my hand. He shook it and laughed. I just nodded at him. He divided the last dribble of wine between our two glasses and we clinked them and drank them back in one.

  “So,” I said wiping my mouth. “How close are we?”

  “I think we’re almost there. I visited the monastery yesterday after I arrived from the airport. Before this place freaked me out…” His eyes glazed over momentarily; but then he gave his head a little shake. “From the monastery I followed the route that Polidoro had described. The monastery’s in the centre of town now. But if you go east from it you do go through some forest. Then keep heading that way in the direction of Protaras. You take a track which is a turn off from the main road and it leads you right to the beach.” He leaned towards me. “John, it’s just the way Polidoro describes it.”

  “The three rocks?”

  “They’re there.” He thumped his hand down on the table. “Three huge rocks just the way he described. Great granite boulders. God knows how they got there. The beach faces east and the shoulder of the cliff around it is low the way he said it would be. There’s no doubt about it. This is the right beach.”

  “Did you go down onto it and check it out close up.”

  “Not quite. I felt... let’s say a little awkward.”

  “How come?” I asked suspiciously. “You’ve come a thousand miles and you’re feeling awkward all of a sudden?”

  “It’s a nudist beach.”

  “Ah.”

  “I felt a touch over-dressed just to waltz down there in shorts and T-shirt and go digging an exploratory hole whilst surrounded by all that flesh. In any case it wouldn’t be prudent to attract too much attention now that we’re so close. I was planning to take a trip out there this evening.”

  “What time?”

  He flashed me a grin. “Well why don’t we just be traditional and say midnight.”

  Chapter 45

  Julius drove ahead whilst I followed on my scooter. It was pitch black once we got off the main road, the warm darkness of the Cyprus night enveloping us. All I could see was the red of Julius’s rear lights and the tiny patch of dirt track illuminated before me by the Vespa’s headlamp.

  Somehow it had made sense to have my own transport: I still didn’t trust Julius and I didn’t want to be stranded by him. Though it has to be said he could have given me the slip at any time; yet he diligently kept his speed down so that I could keep close.

  The road petered out at some rocks and continued on as no more than a footpath around a corner. Julius parked right there and I pulled the motorcycle onto its stand just behind it. He opened the car boot and took out two shovels, two swivel-headed torches, a leather satchel and a plastic bag. He threw me a shovel and a torch and we followed the path past the rocks and round to the top of a flight of steps leading down to the beach.

  We killed the torches and stood for a few minutes to let our eyes adjust. We could hear and smell the sea and, as time went by, see it as well, the white wash from the waves and the dark mass of it, a complete blackness next to the sky which was deepest, profoundest blue. There was no moon but the stars were out and bright. I could taste the salt water of the sea in my mouth and feel the warmth of it in the breeze around us.

  The beach itself was deserted. There were no lights and we stood there for nearly five minutes checking for movement. But there was nothing.

  We climbed cautiously down the wooden steps, no more than a ten feet drop to the sand and, once on the beach, we split up to do a reconnaissance of the area. Julius cut away to the left and I went right towards a shoulder of low cliff. It gave way about fifteen feet from the water and beyond it I could see another beach, deeper and wider than our one, and could just make out a road at the far end of it which came all the way on to the sand. But it too was deserted. Wherever the beach parties were happening that night, it wasn’t here.

  I turned and walked back towards Julius. He had set his light up, twisting the head round so that it was like a lantern. The light from it illuminated a huge mass of hard dark rock, some fifteen feet high. In the thin light I could see another pair of similar rocks beyond it.

  “All clear,” I said setting my light down in the sand next to his.

  “Me too.” He peered at the area of sand lit white-yellow by our torches. “I guess this is it?” He sounded suddenly nervous.

  “I guess so.”

  “There’s only one thing to do, then.” And he picked up his shovel and lifted it high in the air, the lights glinting off the brand new blade, a gleam of fanaticism in his eye. He swung it and I stepped back in alarm, but the steel end came crisply down onto the ground, biting deep into the sand. “It’s time to
dig.” He grinned and heaved a spadeful of sand over his shoulder.

  I blinked at him and then took up my shovel as well. I stood to his left so that we were actually digging two holes right next to each other and as we got deeper and wider they joined in the middle. We dug non-stop for an hour at which point we were four feet deep and the hole was ten feet across: a kind of crater rather than a well. We seemed to be making good progress so decided to take a break, threw our spades down, walked a few steps from the site and collapsed onto the sand.

  “How are your arms?” he asked as he massaged his shoulders and biceps.

  “Terrible. God only knows how Bragadino’s servant managed to dig the hole and fill it in again so quickly.”

  “They were made of sterner stuff in those days. God, I’m tired.” He lay back on the sand, but then sat up again almost immediately. “Better not get too comfortable otherwise we could find ourselves waking up with the nudists.” He chuckled and reached for the plastic bag he had brought with him. “Cold water,” he said chucking me a bottle. He drank from his. “Well cold-ish anyway.”

  “Thanks.” I gratefully took a draft.

  “And I’ve got bread, sausage and cheese here as well,” he said laying out some food. “Help yourself.”

  “That was good thinking.”

  “I got my confidence back after we’d eaten lunch.” He pulled a Swiss Army penknife from his pocket and unfolded the largest blade. “I thought we’d need some provisions if we were to keep going.” He cut the slab of cheese into slices and was doing the same with the sausage when he let out a scream of pain and jumped up.

  “Julius?”

  “I’ve cut my hand!” He was waving it around hopping with pain.

  “Let’s take a look,” I said picking up one of the torches and shining it at him.

  “I’ve fucking sliced it open—”

  “Show me.”

  He held out his clenched fist and slowly opened his fingers. Immediately his palm was full of bright red blood. He gurgled at the sight of it. I picked up my bottle of water and poured it over his hand. He yanked it back, his face contorting. “That stings!”