He slipped on a pair of goggles after taking out a mallet and chisel from the pack and stabbed the chisel at the cracked joint. It stuck like a knife in melon. "See how weak it is? This'll be easy."
Her face was in shadow above him, but he could sense her unease. "Let's just get on with it."
Pierce struck the chisel squarely with the mallet. It sank several inches as bits of concrete flashed through the light. He wrenched it free and struck the joint again, then again. After several strokes the chisel wedged solidly into the crack, and he couldn't pull it out. "Shit, I can't get a grip."
"How about the crowbar?"
"Good idea." He took out the bar and, using the vertical block for leverage, loosened the chisel.
He resumed the tedious pounding, chipping away at the joint. When he finally stopped to catch his breath, he examined the opening he'd created. Several narrow bridges of concrete still connected the two blocks of coral rock. "This will just take another minute or two."
"Then what?" Elise asked as she stooped over and examined his work.
"Then I'll move the rear slab away from the front one. That way we don't have to mess with the lead pipes that go down to the spring."
Pierce picked up the crowbar and attacked the remaining links of concrete. When the two rocks were parted, he dropped the crowbar. "Okay, here goes."
He pressed his shoulder against the upright block of rock.
It stood over five-feet tall and was about two feet in thickness, but wider at the base. He strained and groaned and pushed, and slowly the rock edged backward.
"Jesus," he said when he stopped to rest after barely budging it. He'd been worried about tipping it over and shattering it and possibly destroying the skull, but that didn't seem likely now. "I wish I knew what old Ed's secret was. This is like moving a refrigerator filled with rocks."
"Better you than me. I'm going to go up to the tower and take a look around. Make sure everything's okay."
"Watch out for ghosts."
"Right," she said and headed off.
Pierce continued battling with the block of stone, fighting for every inch. Once, he stopped and looked over his shoulder and saw Elise's moonlit face in the tower window.
Now and then he thought he heard noises behind him and his head snapped back, eyes roaming across the colossal structures. But, of course, nothing was there. Nothing but the coral mammoths communing in the night.
When he'd moved the block more than a foot, he knelt down to look inside. He patted the ground for the flashlight, but realized Elise had taken it. "Shit." He glanced up at the tower to signal her, but she wasn't in the window.
He jogged across the plaza to the steps of the tower and called her name in a harsh whisper. No answer. What the hell. Only the vast silence, the dark, and an uneasy something that bristled in the air. He called her name again, louder this time.
He tensed as a shadow filled the doorway, then Elise was flying down the steps, her hair a dark penumbra around her head. He grabbed hold of her hand. "What's going on? What happened?"
She sucked in a deep breath, tipped her head toward the tower. "Nick, I swear that hanging bed started swinging by itself. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I couldn't move. I couldn't even turn on the flashlight. It was like ol' Ed was lying there watching me."
Like the furniture watches me, he thought. "C'mon. You just got spooked."
"No, it was like I was. . . I don't know. I was overcome by this forlorn feeling. God, it was so creepy."
"You see anything else around of a more substantial nature?"
"Nothing. How's it going?"
"Let's take a look with the flashlight."
When they reached the fountain, Pierce dropped down on his hands and knees as Elise shone the beam on the inner surfaces of both coral blocks. He'd hoped to see a hollow space in one of them and the crystal skull resting there, waiting to be rediscovered. But he couldn't see anything except the rough coral surface.
"Nothing," he said.
"Try opening it a little further so we can work inside. Maybe the hole has been covered and we can't see it yet."
He gripped the upright block of coral with both hands and pressed his chest to it again. Rocking back and forth, he nudged it inch by inch until the space between the block had expanded to about eighteen inches. He stepped back, caught his breath. In spite of the gloves, the palms of his hands were bruised and scraped from the sharp coral rock. He took a swallow from the canteen of water he'd brought along, then held it out to Elise.
She shook her head, and instead crawled as far as she could into the opening and closely surveyed the inner surfaces with the flashlight beam.
"See anything?"
She was quiet a moment, then backed out. She shook her head. "It doesn't look promising."
"Damn, it's got to be here." Pierce picked up the crowbar and jabbed it at random against the rock surfaces inside the opening. Chips of rock ricocheted about, and the resounding thud of each thrust echoed across the courtyard. Elise grabbed him by the shoulder. "Nick, you're making too much noise."
He stepped back, frustrated, and hurled the crowbar into the ground between the two blocks. "Christ, what a fucking waste of time."
But Elise ignored him. She was staring at the crowbar. It had penetrated the ground and was standing upright. She loosened it and scraped at the dirt, then stabbed, digging a hole several inches deep.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Didn't you hear the guide today? There's hardly any ground soil around here, except in the garden where it's been added. The coral rock bed should be right near the surface, but it's not."
"Maybe dirt was added here, too."
She took several more jabs. "My guess is that the coral bed has been hollowed out and covered."
"Let me see."
"Be careful, and stop if you hit anything." She handed him the crowbar, and he gouged at the ground for a couple of minutes until the hole was almost a foot deep. "I think you're right, and the one thing I didn't bring was a shovel."
"We'll have to do our best."
The dirt from the hole quickly formed a small mound beside the altar. They took turns working the earth with the crowbar and chisel and carrying it out by the handful. The hole was elbow-deep when Pierce struck something. He reached down and scraped with his finger.
"Shit," Pierce muttered.
"What is it?" She dropped down to his side.
"That's it. I hit rock."
But Elise was unperturbed. "Then we've just got to widen it more. Dig toward the fountain, underneath the block."
Pierce nodded and redirected his blows. They switched places a couple more times—until one of Pierce's thrusts struck a solid surface again. "Ah, Christ. More rock."
He dropped the crowbar and backed out. Elise moved into his place and reached into the opening. He wondered how much longer they should stay. The bars closed in a few minutes, and the cop would be due.
"Nick, it's not rock. It's smooth and flat. It feels like metal."
"A pipe?" He slipped his hand deep into the hole. He clawed at the dirt until he could feel more of the smooth surface. Then he touched something else.
"I think it's a metal case. I feel a latch."
They took turns working with the chisel, loosening the dirt around the container, scooping it out. After a few minutes, Pierce's fingers found something new. "I've got a handle, a leather grip."
"Good. We've got to hurry."
He scraped away the dirt. "I'm going to pull it out." Just as he spoke, he tumbled backward, the rotted leather strap in his hand.
Elise couldn't help laughing.
"Hey, what if I had landed on the crowbar. . . or hit my head on the chisel?"
"You didn't, though."
"I think I loosened it."
He reached into the hole again, pressing his face against the coral block. "I've got my hand under it. It's moving. Give me the crowbar."
He slid the hooked end of the bar und
erneath the case and managed to get one of the prongs against the back side. He pulled, and the metal case slid forward to the lip of the hole. He grasped it with both hands. "Gotcha."
Elise brushed dirt from the box as Pierce set it on the ground. "I sure hope you're what we think you are," he announced to the box.
"Let's open it," Elise said.
He glanced around, feeling uneasy. "No. Let's get out of here."
"You're right. It's late. Besides, we should open it with Bill. It's only fair."
"Let's go out the revolving door," Pierce said as he scooped up his tools and tossed them into the backpack. "It'll be easier."
They crossed the courtyard, glancing one more time at the coral monsters. Pierce bent down as they reached the door. "That's odd. No wedge."
He stood up and pushed the door. It wouldn't budge. It felt as if the wedge was on the wrong side.
"Hold it!" a voice shouted sharply from behind him. Oh, God, the cop, he thought. He heard the click of a gun, turned, peered into the gloom. For a moment he didn't see anything. Then a figure stepped out from the shadow of a herculean-sized chair.
"Evening, Nick. And if it isn't Lisie playing in the dirt."
"Steve, what the hell are you doing here?" Elise demanded.
"Oh, I don't know. Just out for a little fun. What're you doing? Archaeological stuff, huh?"
"None of your business. Just leave me alone."
Fat chance of that, Pierce thought, eyeing the sleek, deadly Mach 10 under his arm.
'Fraid I can't do that, Lisie. By the way, you can call me Thor tonight, sweetheart."
Pierce heard a creak of gears and turned his head as the revolving stone door opened and a familiar hulking figure stepped inside. No wonder the door wouldn't move, he thought.
"Hello, Nick," K.J. said, speaking casually, as if he's always voiced his greetings. He aimed a .357 at Pierce and grinned. "You can call me Frey."
Chapter 34
"Real careful now, Pierce. I want you to lay that box on the ground," Simms said, pointing the machine pistol at the metallic case. "Then the pack."
Pierce glanced between the two men. There wasn't much he could do but follow orders. Besides being armed, both were enormous, muscular men. A corrupt lawyer and a fake mute. What a pair.
"Get over to the wall and put your hands against it," Thor ordered, prodding the Mach 10 at him, and Pierce moved.
"You, too, Lisie."
"How did you know we were here, Steve?" she asked, holding her ground.
"Just a simple directional microphone outside the house this morning," he answered. "You said it all. Now get over to the wall."
"Why're you doing this?" If she was afraid of him, her voice didn't reveal it.
"I'm disappointed in you, Lisie," he said, disregarding her question. "I really am. Trespassing, breaking and entering, destroying private property, and theft. Shame on you."
"Cut the crap, Steve. You're crooked. You're working for Raymond Andrews. You've lost all sense of what's right and decent. You're not the person I married. You're a monster."
"I'm not working for Andrews. I'm working with Odin. And I want you to call me Thor, honey. Let's hear you say it."
When she didn't respond, he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, pushed her next to Pierce. "Talk to me, Lisie. You know I don't like being ignored. Did you like my drawing on your closet door, Lisie?"
"You bastard!"
"Come on. Call me Thor. Say it."
She winced in pain and struggled to get away. "Thor. Thor."
"Let her go, Simms," Pierce barked.
Simms jammed the Mach 10 against his ear. "What was that, Pierce? Did I hear you say something?"
Pierce didn't answer.
Simms lowered the weapon and snapped on handcuffs, squeezing them tight on Pierce's wrist. "You like fucking each other so much I'll hook you two together."
"Hey, what's this?" K.J. said. Pierce looked back and saw that he'd found Elise's .22 in the pack. "You couldn't kill a squirrel with that thing, Pierce."
"Hurry up, Frey. Open the goddamn box. And you two keep your eyes on the wall."
Pierce heard K.J. banging the chisel against the latch. "Careful," Simms cautioned.
"I know what I'm doing," K.J. said. "I got it open."
"Let me take a look. You watch them."
Pierce stole a glance over his shoulder as Simms reached into the box. He turned back to the wall as K.J. pointed the .357 at him.
"Yeah, that looks like it," Simms said after a moment. "Let's move out. You take the box. I'll handle these two."
He walked over to the wall, grabbed Elise by the arm, and pulled her and Pierce several steps. "I'm going through first. Follow me." He slowly backed through the door.
"Move," K.J. said when Simms was out of sight.
Just as they pushed their way through the door, Pierce glimpsed a silhouette, a figure partially hidden behind the well. Then they were through the wall and standing in the garden.
Please, be the cop, be the cop, Pierce said over and over to himself.
"Over there." Simms pointed the gun toward a hedge.
Jesus Christ, they were going to kill them right here, Pierce thought. You better hurry, he mentally told the man in the courtyard, the man who had to be the cop.
"It's a beautiful garden in the moonlight, isn't it, Lisie?" Simms said.
They skirted the hedge until they came to an opening. In front of him, as though it were just another piece of coral furniture, was the dark blue Mercedes, the same Mercedes he'd seen following him. The car had been shielded by the shrubbery, parked not fifty feet from where he'd heard Redington lecture his students.
"See, we were waiting for you. We've been here all along," Simms said. "Lisie, you know who my partner here is? Don't you?"
"Frey," she spat.
Simms laughed. "Very good. He's also my workout partner and Andrews's bodyguard. You getting the picture now?"
Pierce heard the faint groan of the revolving door and tried to cover the sound with a question. "So why didn't you get the box yourself if you knew where it was?"
"That wasn't the plan."
"So Andrews makes all your decisions now," Elise snapped.
Simms cast an irritated glance her way. "Get in the backseat."
"Hold it right there," boomed a voice from the corner of the hedge. Pierce gaped as the man stepped out into the moonlight, aiming what was probably a semi-automatic pistol. He never thought he would be pleased to see Neil Bellinger.
"Who are you?" Simms barked.
Bellinger sneered. "Sorry guys. The hundred grand was tempting, but your boss bribed the wrong cop tonight. Now drop those guns and back off."
Simms hesitated, then lowered his Mach 10. K.J. dropped his, and stepped back. "I'm Steve Simms. I'm a prosecutor for the Drug Enforcement Administration."
"Drop it, I said."
"This man with me is an undercover agent. I'm going to reach for my identification card."
"The hell you are."
Simms lowered himself onto one knee, set the machine pistol on the ground, and kept talking. "This is a drop-off point. The box is full of cocaine, and you're fucking up my bust."
"Don't bullshit me. I know who you are, Simms. Where's Carver?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The revolving door creaked again, and a commanding voice rang out. "Police. What's going on here?"
Bellinger turned. "It's okay."
"Drop it!" the cop yelled.
The moment of confusion was all Simms needed. He scooped up his Mach 10 and sprayed a dozen bullets. Bellinger was knocked back against the hedge. He hung there a moment, then flopped to the ground. The cop lay several feet behind him.
Simms walked over the Bellinger, pumped another bullet into him, and did the same to the cop. "Get in the car," K.J. said, hustling the handcuffed pair into the backseat. Simms slid in behind the wheel, and K.J. joined him in front.
; "God, you killed them!" Elise shouted.
"Too bad about that, Lisie. Couldn't be helped." Simms started the engine and eased the big car out of its hiding place and across the lawn to the parking lot.
"Where're we going?" Pierce asked.
"You guys are going for a little ride. Got someone who wants to see you two."
Pierce looked out the window as they cut through the parking lot and headed north on U.S. 1. The tint was so dark he could barely see. For the first time in his life he sensed the proximity of death, his death. He heard it whistling through the air, a bullet with his name on it, a blade K.J. or Simms would sink into his heart, his body dumped into a canal like Scarjaw. . . . No telling what form it would take. Bad thoughts. He touched his pants pocket with his free hand and felt the amulet. He heard Tia Juana's voice in his head saying: proteccion.
He clasped Elise's hand, squeezed it. He glanced over at her and saw she was staring intently at the back of Simms's head. "Why did you do it, Steve?"
"Do what, Lisie?" he called back.
"Sell out to Andrews. You knew what he'd done to my father, you knew what I thought of him."
"Sure I did, and I took advantage of it. The divorce was over, and you'd burned me. So I decided to get you at your weak spot. I knew K.J.—Frey—from the gym. So it wasn't hard to get to see Andrews. He was happy to meet me. He introduced me to a whole new world, you could say."
They'd been on the road for thirty or forty minutes when Pierce heard the sound of steel grating under the car. They were crossing the Rickenbacker Causeway on their way to Key Biscayne. That was fine with Pierce. In fact, it couldn't be better. If they were going to Andrews's condo, Carver should have the place staked out. Then again, Bellinger had asked Simms where Carver was. What the hell did that mean?
But they weren't going to Andrews's place. Simms passed the turnoff to Mimosa Drive, and several blocks later pulled off the road. There were no lights outside now, and Pierce could barely see out the windows. He knew they must be near the state park at the end of the key.
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