by P. W. Child
Or would she?
The notion unsettled Purdue. Many times before he had been blindsided by innocent looking women who were puppets steered by the Black Sun. Heidmann’s disappearance bothered Purdue as well.
‘He was the one man who knew about the finer details of the stone, who was to say that he was not aware of the other two stones as well?’ Purdue thought. ‘Then again, the fact that Costa knew Soula and that Heidmann and the Greek could not stand one another…I can only speculate.’
It all made Purdue realize that there were literally a handful of people in this world he could rely on not betray him or try to kill him. Still, that did not mean that Heidmann or Claire were necessarily bad people. Perhaps they were just desperate – and expendable.
“Mr. Purdue, we will be landing in approximately 10 minutes,” the private flight attendant told him. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you. Just get me to the ground as soon as possible,” he smiled, effectively hiding the immense worry he carried.
When he arrived at the British Museum he was met by the head of security, a big tough Scouse called Duncan that Purdue knew well.
“Welcome back, boss,” Duncan said. “Although, I wish I'd be seeing you under better circumstances.”
“I know, Duncan. How have you been, sir?” Purdue asked cordially, shaking the man’s hand while tapping his back with the other.
“Oh, with the coppers finally gone, like, they say there is not much leads to go on. They did take the ladies to their lockers though, for what I don’t know,” the strappy veteran informed Purdue as they walked to the office of Prof. Helen Barry. “But the bastards took the security footage from the earthquake too, boss.”
“Why would they do that? Just that one day’s reel?” Purdue asked. Duncan nodded in affirmation. Then it hit Purdue. The day of the earthquake was the day the remaining intact security camera in the exhibition hall captured the remnants of the broken statue. It was proof that the stone statue had been a human being.
‘Oh, of course,’ he pondered. ‘They would not want the world to see what they already know.’
When they entered the cordoned-off section of the administration section, Duncan stepped aside for Purdue to enter.
“Go on, boss,” he said. “I’ll wait here outside, like, just to make sure nobody comes bothering, alright?”
“Very well, Duncan. Thanks,” Purdue nodded and closed the door behind him. Contrary to what he thought would greet him, the office was virtually unmarked. Nothing was out of place, save for a small loose mat Helen had under her desk to warm her feet when she worked late capturing new inventory. The curator loathed her designer shoes and loved walking on her socks or bare feet, he recalled. But from what Purdue noticed, the mat had been rumpled from the wrong side. It had been disturbed from the inside under the desk, instead of the outside where her chair would have stood on the frayed edge.
Frowning at the oddity Purdue kneeled to see what was muddling up the little blue rug. Lifting his tablet to provide adequate light from its internal LED assembly he only found a crow’s nest of wiring, pulled violently from the wall.
“Why would she pull out the wall fixtures?” he asked out loud, inching deeper in under the desk to examine the origin of the various cables. There was nothing significant about any of the electrical points that would pertain to security, yet he knew that Helen would never do something like this for any reason. Eventually, having found no correlation between the damage and Helen’s way of thinking he retreated slowly on his elbows and knees. Minding his head as he drew back, his LED light caught something messy and prominent etched in the right wooden panel of the desk.
There it was, roughly scratched, yet very clear. He instantly recognized the symbol of the Order of the Black Sun, but instead of being construed as a helpful hint, it was unfortunately already known fact.
“Oh, Helen,” Purdue remarked softly, “you are too right, my dearest. But I already know who took you.” He sighed, “If you could only have left me a note on where they took you, on the other hand.” But Helen did not know where she was going to be taken. So both of them were left separated from the other.
“Duncan,” Purdue called.
“Yeah boss,” Duncan said from a crack in the door.
“Could you come in here quickly, please?” the confounded benefactor asked him.
“Sure, sure, Mr. Purdue,” Duncan said. He came in and closed the door behind him, looking eager to help with his hands on his sides and a reddened face glowing with zealous attention. “How can I help?”
“Tell me, were you here when they were taken?” Purdue asked.
“No, boss. It was McGinty, my alternate. He was on duty, then, but there was no indication that the ladies were leaving all against their will, like. But he is here today,” he reported. “You want me to get him?”
“Please, Duncan. It would help a lot,” Purdue implored. “I’ll wait here.”
A few minutes later both men returned to the office. Duncan closed the door and leaned against it while McGinty exchanged pleasantries with Purdue.
“McGinty, do you have any recorded footage of the men leaving with Claire and Prof. Barry three days ago?” Purdue asked.
McGinty looked at Duncan, reluctant to answer. Duncan urged him on, nodding to assure his colleague that Mr. Purdue could be trusted. “This man pays your salary, so to speak,” Duncan told his colleague. “If he needs help, like, we are going to give it to him. You know full well the police have no freakin’ idea where to start.”
“Ayah!” McGinty agreed. “That is for certain. Mr. Purdue, the police pulled all that data off the security recordings, sir. The servers have no files form any time before yesterday anymore.
Purdue grinned like a kingpin criminal, wringing his hands together. It provoked a curious smile from Duncan who had always admired the well-known explorer and inventor’s penchant for rule breaking to serve justice. “What you thinking, boss?” he smiled with his massive forearms folded over his chest.
“Can you get me into the control room server station?” Purdue asked. “There will be backed up files, data equivalent to the exact footage the police annexed.
“Of course, I can, Mr. Purdue!” McGinty boasted. “I can get you in anywhere. Just out of interest, what if you don’t recognize the men?”
“That does not matter, McGinty,” Purdue reassured him. “I just need to see which code they used to gain access to the administration wing. If they are not employees, they must have used the access code of whomever helped them.”
“Geezuss, the man really is a genius, eh? Eh, Duncan?” McGinty marveled, slapping his colleague’s upper arm with the back of his hand.
“Aye, we know that,” Duncan laughed. “I’ll watch the perimeter while you get the boss into the computer room.”
“Alright, Mr. Purdue,” McGinty gestured forward, “this way.”
With the help of the two private security experts Purdue found himself sitting in front of the server where the security data was stored, on and offline. Briskly he expanded his tablet into its A4 size and placed it on the desk next to him. Dislodging a small catch tucked in the side of the device, he extracted a built in USB-type connector on a cable already connected to the internal storage chip of the tablet. Narrowing his eyes to determine the opposing port of the particular drive, Purdue slipped the connector in and activated his retrieval program on the tablet.
Soon the load bar appeared in translucent blue on the transparent screen, and Purdue proceeded to punch in the time stamps, from the morning of that Friday to the last shift change last night. As he waited for the data transfer to complete Purdue realized for the first time how fatigued he was. All the excitement of decrypting the mystery of the Nazi officer’s writings to the adrenaline fueled worry for the welfare of his old friend Helen Barry, had him neglecting any thought of sleep.
In fact, he only now came to realize just how exhausted he was. In essence, he had not sle
pt a wink since he woke up to ready the group for the trip to Markvartovice! Even he was amazed at the lack of sleep he had managed to suppress thus far in order to keep things steady.
“Some tea, boss?” Duncan asked in the hum of the machines, holding up two mugs.
“Aye, thank you, Duncan,” Purdue smiled, feeling considerably less lonely. “You are a godsend!”
Chapter 31
Don had peppered his ankle with ointment and bound it properly. For a while, he understandably limped a bit, but by mid-morning he could walk quite well again. He let Nina drive the van across the border to Poland for more reasons than one. Border guards had a softer spot for charming, beautiful women and of course, his foot would never hold out on the pedals for the duration of the trip to Krakow once in the country.
Costa offered to drive, but Nina was having fun driving the vehicle that was clearly supped-up contrary to its dilapidated hand-me-down exterior. The clouds only dropped a drizzle which was welcome, since she was unfamiliar with the roads and would have hated to drive in back roads outside Krakow in hard rain. Don played some old Johnny Cash and a mix tape of 80’s hits, both cassettes he discovered in the glove compartment.
“Guys, have you noticed that Volvo before?” Nina asked.
Looking behind them as they headed from the border, both Costa and Don noticed the old brown Volvo.
“Nope, haven’t seen it before,” Costa shrugged. “But we will keep checking, especially when we turn onto other roads.”
Purdue’s party of explorers was taking a route that ran south of Katowice to make a beeline for Krakow on a less conspicuous road. Perhaps it was an error to be too unremarkable, but they could not afford too much attention on main roads with a vehicle that looked like a moving wreck, deceptive or not.
Just before Tychy, they pulled over to fill up the tank. It was the perfect opportunity to see if the Volvo followed, and it did.
“See that?” Nina asked Costa. He nodded, watching the old brown car stop at another garage.
“Just get a good look at them when they get out, Zorba,” Don warned. “I have to take a piss quick, okay?”
“Right,” Costa replied, ready to memorize the occupants of the suspicious car. Nina had run into the convenience store nearby to buy them all some road chow while Costa minded the van.
From across the wide road, the Volvo’s occupants stepped out, three men in their 30s looking crime-movie scaly. Costa leaned against the van, his arms folded over his chest. He made no secret that he was watching them when they looked in his direction, using his intimidation as a warning to them that they have been discovered. If it turned out that they were not really thugs or had anything to do with the Black Sun, Costa figured his distinct warning to them would be inconsequential and harmless.
The men took note of him but did not act on it. They seemed to get fuel too and went into the small shop for cigarettes and Coca Cola.
“Any bazookas or automatic weapons?” Don jested as he interrupted Costa’s intent leer at the men across the busy street.
Costa laughed and shook his head, but Don discerned a mean streak in that chuckle as if Costa was hoping for a confrontation.
“I got you lads some sandwiches and milk,” Nina reported when she joined them. “Hope that is okay. There was not much choice, else.”
“Sandwiches are perfect, Dr. Gould,” Costa flirted with a wink. He took his foil-wrapped lunch from her, lightly grazing her hand with his as he did so. Nina’s legs stung with the thrill of his touch and she caught herself looking into his dark mesmerizing eyes a moment too long.
“And this is yours, Don,” she said quickly, giving Don his food.
“Ah! Milk! A very good idea. It is very filling, unlike that sugary soda shite people drink,” Don approved. “So what do you think? Could they be a threat?”
Costa shook his head. “I don’t think so. But if they are they will certainly be sorry.”
Don slapped a heavy hand on the Greek professor’s shoulder and laughed with a mouth full of toasted bread, “I am beginning to like you more and more, lady!”
Nina smiled. “Everything is a dick measuring contest with you men, isn’t it? Can’t you just treat a perceived threat gracefully and talk to your opponents?”
“No,” both men answered in unison, reinforcing their male bonding with a roaring laugh. She had to smile. Perhaps it was good to be in the company of two rambunctious lads like Don and Costa. After all, those types of brawlers were the most effective protectors.
“Okay, jokes aside. We have a questionable character to meet in less than 50 minutes,” Don said. “How long till we get to Krakow from here?”
“About an hour,” Nina affirmed, checking her handheld GPS provided by Purdue so that their position and route would not be registered on any international systems. The billionaire had his own satellite feed for the very purpose of remaining undetected.
“Who is driving?” Don asked.
“I will drive,” Costa offered, “if the pretty lady wants to relax a bit?”
Nina cast a quick glance to Don as she gave Costa the keys. The archeologist just grinned, knowing how she fancied the Greek, and also knowing why. He had never met Sam Cleave, but from the various explorations and news worthy coverage that Purdue’s hunts have delivered before he had seen pictures of the investigative journalist.
It was uncanny how Costa resembled him, but Don hoped that Nina had the clarity of mind to remember that the art professor was a different person to Sam, no matter how he resembled him. Another thing Don secretly knew was how much his friend, Dave Purdue, still loved his ex-girlfriend. In so many late night drunken discussions, Purdue had admitted to him how he would never give up on winning her back.
During their trip to Krakow, the Volvo was nowhere to be seen. If it was indeed following them, it was in no rush to catch up. Just after three o’clock in the afternoon, Costa steered the van onto the turn-off toward the picturesque Medieval aged town. Don, who was in the front passenger seat, reached back to Nina to wake her.
“Dr. Gould?” he jested. No reaction from the slumbering historian prompted him to raise his voice with a touch of panic. “We’re lost! I knew we should have turned off at the vineyards, Zorba! For fuck’s sake, I told you!”
Costa was in stitches at the comedic antics of Dr. Graham next to him, holding in a fit of laughter as they drove into town. Nina sat up to see what was going on, furiously wiping strands of stray hair from her scowling brow. Her eyes widened when she saw Don, but he put her at ease almost immediately.
“Ah, you’ve joined us.”
“Jesus, Don!” she moaned, wiping her eyes roughly. “Don’t do that. My nerves are already on end about this meeting.”
“Why?” Costa asked.
“Well, this guy is expecting Purdue. What if they don’t trust us? What if they…?” she complained.
“Don’t worry,” Don smiled, caressing her hand. “Purdue called them to let them know a very attractive, rugged man is meeting them on his behalf. They’ll trust me when they see me.”
“I just need to know where we are meeting them, Nina. And then I need you to tell me how to get there,” Costa reminded her.
“Oh shit, of course, yes!” she stammered, retrieving the information on the GPS. “They will meet us at the Main Market Square, right by the statue of Adam Mickiewicz. I have a picture of it so that we know where to find it.”
“Excellent. I cannot wait to get this done,” Costa said.
“Why in such a hurry?” Don smiled. “Enjoy the sights, take it in.”
The Greek professor’s expression changed, looking a bit more sincere. “I love the sights as much as anyone, Dr. Graham,” he explained, “and I don’t want to be a boring drip or anything, but Soula was a close friend of mine…”
“No, no, I understand, my friend. It is only logical that you would want this sorted out. Geez, I still can’t believe that they would go to such lengths,” Don sighed.
“I c
an. Those fuckers have a God-complex and the money to perpetuate it. Believe me, they would go to any length to maintain power,” Nina replied with no small measure of contempt in her voice.
“That is true, I’m sure. Come to think of it, we forget that the Black Sun was founded by the sickest fucks of the Nazi High Command. Why was I even surprised?” Don conceded.
Costa knew the Black Sun only by reputation. Soula never told him that she or the stone had any connection to the organization. From what he had heard about them, and found in light research was damning and worth being maligned by all opposition that ever had the misfortune of dealing with them.
The van stopped near the gathering place on the square where the 4.2 meter tall bronze statue stood in its detailed beauty. Especially Costa, with his eye for fine art, admired the lines and contours of the detailed statue of the poet Adam Mickiewicz with the secondary sculptures surrounding the square pedestal.
“Be right back, kids,” Don exclaimed and jumped out of the van. He still showed a bit of a limp as he crossed the square. The silence in the van was a bit awkward, so Costa decided to make small talk.
“Maybe I should have gone with him,” he said.
“Why? He can take care of himself,” Nina replied. She was leaning on the backrest of the single front seat, resting her head on her forearms. Costa could smell Nina’s perfume, and it drove him crazy, but he had to keep things casual. He had to focus on obtaining the Medusa stone before embarking on the search for the Euryale as soon as Purdue let them know where he was. It was now plain that whoever held Professor Barry hostage had the last of the three stones.
“So, tell me about you and Dave Purdue,” he said suddenly, catching Nina completely off guard.
“Um, what about us?” she asked, minding her tone as not to sound as surprised as she was.
“You have history, I believe. Much history, including romantic history, I hear,” he said, staring deep into her eyes and rendering her powerless to his thrall. Nina felt compelled to answer his every question without reservation, but she could not figure out why. Surely the fact that he reminded her of Sam could not have such control over her…could it? Costa suddenly broke eye contact and looked around the square and the passers-by. “I’m so sorry, Nina. I did not mean to pry,” he apologized. “It’s just that you…”