“Yes, because we got the captured Maruti driver to talk. This is where the American couple is to meet the terrorists tonight. The jewels are hidden here. The husband is to show up and retrieve the jewels. Then we arrest him when he passes the jewels to the terrorists.”
My nerves were humming, and it wasn’t the cold since the night was mild. It was extreme fear. Zach was sitting with his loaded gun and vest filled with bullets and heaven knows what else. All I could think of was how scared I was. My small pistol had the safety on. Just thinking about the damage it could inflict made my stomach heave.
My eyes played tricks on me. I saw movement where none was. A small animal, maybe a desert rat, skittered in the bushes to the back of us. I pressed closer to Zach. I could feel the tense alert of his body in the hardness of his muscles. Mine were starting to cramp. I shifted position to take the strain off my back.
He put his finger to his lips and pointed to a spot at the far side of the ruins near the corner where an arch met the massive wall. A shadow moved stealthily, then quicker and with purpose.
We hunkered down lower in unconscious reaction. My breathing was so loud I thought the shadow would hear. But the shadow seemed intent upon its mission and scurried along the front of the castle and ducked through the first arch and into the interior.
“There has to be a second person,” Zach said so low I could barely make out his words. Sure enough, another shadow materialized from the same corner and hurried along the same route. Both figures were black and hooded.
Zach had explained the strategy. Wait until they had located and retrieved the jewels then stop them one way or another. But don’t let them leave the ruins of the castle.
“I’m counting on them leading us to the spot where they hid the jewels. If they don’t, we’ll have to dig up the entire complex up, and the Department of Antiquities would frown on that. I’m going closer.” He reached into one of his vest pockets and pulled out my cell phone. “Here, I’ve been meaning to give this back to you. If something goes awry or you hear gun fire, run away as fast as you can and call for help.”
“Right.” Running was within my range of capabilities.
I watched him do a running crouch closer to the outer wall of the ruin.
The two shadows had disappeared into the interior court of the castle. The ground inside was uneven packed dirt. There were drains inside that had been excavated but mostly hewn rock abounded. I couldn’t imagine anyone would bury treasure where it wouldn’t be obvious it had been recently dug unless they had moved rocks from the walls or drain and replaced them.
I was a lot happier now that my supporting role was on the side of the good guys and that Zachariah Lamont had turned out to be NPYD instead of a felon.
Pop. Pop. The sound was so soft, I almost didn’t hear it. But my mind knew. Silencer. Those were the popping sounds that a gun with a silencer makes. What if I were wrong? I nibbled on my nails in indecision. If I called for help now, and Zach hadn’t caught the thieves red handed, then I’d have blown the whole sting.
What to do? I wasn’t going to run away. Creep closer, I decided, to see if I could see anything. I would have to peer around a good twenty foot wall or climb up over it which meant scaling the loose rubble at the top. But creep closer I did, my heart in my mouth. My creeping consisted of a crab walk and silent cursing as my toes hit unseen rocks and plants with stickers that I never recalled seeing during the daylight hours. I heard nothing more after those two pops. I could not recall Zach saying he had a silencer for his gun.
I made it to the outer wall of the castle and listened. The night was quiet. We were so close to the harbor I could hear the lines clinking against the masts of the sail boats at anchor. No people sounds emanated from inside the roofless castle.
I took several deep breaths to try to quiet my inner trembling. It didn’t help. Everything was chattering -- my teeth, hands, legs, gut, breath. I was a veritable bowl of quivering jelly. I knew if I had to use a gun it would jump right out of my hand.
I leaned close to the wall. The stones still retained the heat of day. The warmth helped calm me till my nerves were humming instead of jangling. I had to go on. I had to find out what those pops were. I inched around the opening and ducked into the niche in the wall to the entrance. From there I was able to view into the interior court but saw only more walls made of blocks of hewn rock.
I hesitated. Maybe I should go back, get clear of the ruins and call. What if Zach had been shot? I kept going and cleared another one of the interior walls which were labyrinthine in nature. I pressed close to the wall, trying to stay in the shadows. I heard another pop and almost in the same instant a bullet ricocheted off the wall about three inches from my nose. I ducked and streaked back toward the entrance of the castle. But I wasn’t alone. The pounding of footsteps behind were as loud as the beating of my heart. I hurtled through the entrance and smacked into the waiting arms of a midget. It wasn’t really a midget, but he was small and our grunts were about the same volume. I walloped him with my pistol before he had time to recover which bought me enough time to get away from the little guy but not from the hand that grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.
“Stop,” said the hooded figure.
The gleam of the gun barrel gave it a silver moon hue. It was pointed at my face. It had a big, long silencer fitted onto the end.
“Drop your gun.”
I stopped in mid-struggle and dropped it. When the gun pointed at you is bigger than yours, drop it. Or at least I did. It was an automatic reaction. No thought involved.
“Walk.” The arm gripping my shoulder pulled me back into the interior of the castle, none too gently might I add, and not where I wanted to go. The voice was rough and hoarse, like the man who owned it had been shouting all day. This was the part of the caper in which I had not wanted to get involved. But I wouldn’t listen to Zach, would I?
We wound our way into the smaller interior rooms that had probably been used for milling and baking. Unfortunately, I recognized the path. We were on our way to the six latrines that had been excavated. They had hidden the jewels in the latrines. Clever.
Two shadowed figures worked at the end of the main drain, which emptied into the exterior ditch that encircled the castle, where the remains of a man were found during the excavation. The unfortunate gent had tried to escape the falling debris of the earthquake in 1223 by crawling down through the latrines to the drain. But the drain exit was blocked by narrow slits that only allowed liquid waste to dribble outward into the ditch. The poor man had died in place with a blue glass bottle in hand. In the exact spot where the excavators had found the skeletal remains of the hapless earthquake victim, two men were digging at the stones blocks of the drain.
To the side against the wall Zach lay face down in a pool of blood. My heart hit the stone floor of the latrines. He was dead.
My hooded captor shoved me. I hit the wall and sank onto my knees. I wished I had called for help. I could have wished a lot of things in that instant, but my most fervent wish was answered. In the dim light I saw the rise and fall of Zachariah Lamont’s back. He was still breathing.
I counted four thieves including the little guy lying outside. None seemed interested in me. It appeared that the stones of the latrine were being a bit testy about being moved even though they must have been before, if the jewels lay hidden beneath.
Something occurred to me, as I inched as close as possible to Zach’s prone body and clasped his ankle for comfort. His ankle was warm and that cheered my quaking little heart. What occurred to me sitting there watching the three thieves curse and bang their chisels against the reluctant stone was that Zach said this was a sting operation. That meant there had to be more good guys somewhere. My bet was that Helena was waiting in the wings. I tried hard not to look around. But my head wanted to swivel all over, trying to see if I could spot her.
A cry of elation went up from the diggers. All three worked at pulling out the reluctant stone th
ey 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.”
Nineteen
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
About the Author
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
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