Golden Chariot

by Chris Karlsen

“You can anticipate where my question is leading. How far does your passion extend?”

  “Would I be as condemning?”

  Yes was the correct response, the easiest and most expedient under the circumstances. In all honesty, a great chasm between what is proper and what is practical exists. She recognized valid arguments for each view.

  “You want a snap answer to a complex issue.” She chose her words with careful consideration. “We both heard the horror stories. Collections repatriated to their countries of origin and displayed in regional museums have had some negative results. The smaller facilities often lack funding for proper security. Some priceless pieces have fallen victim again, only to a new set of thieves and looters.

  “Local facilities don’t have the foot traffic. The number of visitors are a drop in the bucket compared to the numbers who’d see the collection if left with a major museum. Conversely, isn’t it the right of the country of origin to be the primary source to showcase their treasures?”

  “You look to me for an answer?”

  “You must have thoughts on the subject,” she said.

  “I represent the Ministry. For me, there’s no debate, my country, my heritage. It is my government’s right to succeed or fail in the manner in which our artifacts are treated.”

  Charlotte was playing Devil’s Advocate to a cause she wasn’t completely for or against. It was a thorny issue argued throughout the archaeological community.

  “Let me offer an example.”

  “I’m listening,” Atakan said.

  “Your government sued the Met for the return of the Lydian Hoard and won.”

  “You pick a sore subject. I know your intention with this topic, but...” he said, spreading his hands. “Go on.”

  “We can acknowledge the collection was beautifully displayed after it was repatriated. Unfortunately, the prize piece, the Golden Hippocampus, was stolen and replaced with a fake. The whereabouts of the real one remains a mystery. That magnificent piece is lost to the world now and that’s just one incident. Can you truly say the collection was better served by being repatriated? Be honest Atakan. Don’t answer as a representative of the Ministry but for yourself.”

  “Yes, I still believe the artifacts should’ve been returned to us. Yes, what happened as a result was terrible. We fail and we learn. We are constantly improving the way we manage our cultural heritage. I repeat...our cultural heritage. Who are you, and by you, I mean the collective mindset of the major museums, to decide whether we are worthy of custody over our treasures?”

  Atakan stretched forward and hammered the desk with his finger. “We were an empire with laws and art and sophisticated language when you were still dancing around bonfires and adding slabs to your Stonehenge.”

  His dark eyes flattened. “I answer you, not as Representative Vadim, but as myself, Atakan Vadim. We are entitled to what is ours.”

  “Fair enough. I’m not trying to offend you. I’m presenting another view. Not necessarily mine,” Charlotte added.

  “You deny agreement with institutions while you argue in favor of it.” He relaxed back in his chair and studied her for what felt like an interminable amount of time.

  “I swore I wouldn’t deceive you again. You asked me a question and I gave you an honest response.”

  “Yes or no, would you report a violation of artifact acquisition by a renowned museum?”

  “I don’t deserve this kind of distrust, not for this issue. Other than take questionable corporate money, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Yes or no!” His palm slammed the desk.

  The sharp crack startled her and Charlotte jerked backward.

  Atakan hadn’t flinched.

  “I...”

  “You hesitate.”

  “No, I--”

  “It remains to be seen if you’d turn-in Waterman again, if he planned to donate a stolen piece for popular exhibit.”

  “Donate? Aaron? No way, he’s no philanthropist.” The idea was laughable.

  “He’d do it for glory.”

  “Glory?” Talk about a word she’d never associate with Aaron.

  “I visited America. I’ve seen your museum displays with their brass nameplates honoring donors and wings with their names carved in marble.”

  “He’s not into glory.”

  “You evaded answering my museum question.”

  “I hesitated. I’m nervous. In the highly unlikely event he intended to donate a piece, yes, I’d turn him in.”

  “Because it’s Waterman or because it’s right?”

  “Both.” She reached across the desk and with a tentative touch laid her hand on Atakan’s. He didn’t reject the gesture this time, which she took as a positive sign.

  “I lied to you once and I regret it with all my heart. I never lied about the donation or the source of my acceptance.” She squeezed his hand a little harder. “I swear to you, my love and respect for artifacts is not less than yours.”

  Atakan withdrew his hand. He closed his eyes and briefly massaged the lids with his fingertips. He opened his eyes again, stood, and crossed to the window. An eternity seemed to pass while he stared out in silence.

  He bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing as he applied pressure. He stayed like that for a few more seconds before letting go and raising his head.

  “This is why I do not get close to team members,” he said at last, his back still to her.

  “Does that mean you believe me?” She worried he’d say “no.”

  “Me, yes,” he said, turning to her. “The Ministry...” he shrugged.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Atakan left Charlotte at the door of the women’s dorm and returned to his quarters after grabbing a cola from the kitchen. He set the Pepsi on the dresser, kneeled on the floor and reached under his cot for the travel case with his prescription. Setting the case on the bed, he removed the bottle and shook out a single pill. He took the thousand milligram Paracetamol sparingly, preferring to use a lower dosage medicine. The higher milligram pills upset his stomach on occasion. Only when he had a blistering headache did he resort to them. The cola was part of his headache routine. When his headaches were bad enough to take the heavier dose, he drank a coffee, tea, or a cola with it. In the past, he found the caffeine seemed to help speed the pain killer through his system.

  He chased the pill with the Pepsi and waited. When relief started to kick in he called the Director.

  Firat answered on the first ring.

  “It’s Atakan.”

  “You interviewed her in depth about Waterman?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “She says she has nothing to do with him. I think she’s telling the truth.”

  The Director was quiet. Atakan knew what was going through Firat’s mind because it was going through his too. He heard Firat give a long, deep sigh and he braced for what the Director had to say.

  “You are certain? You have no doubts?”

  “I am certain,” Atakan said.

  “You believed her before and she lied.”

  “She explained, and I understand why she lied at the time.”

  “You know the consequences if you’re wrong again?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I cannot trust your judgment, you cannot stay with the investigative detail. It’s an automatic transfer out of the unit, you know this? I have no choice.”

  Atakan knew the rules. He’d lose his rank as a senior investigator and be sent to an administrative detail. He’d never be allowed to work the field again.

  “I understand.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Who were those uniformed men you and Atakan left with yesterday?” Ursula asked as she pulled her hair into a ponytail and put the brush in a drawer.

  “The Greek Coast Guard, they’re investigating Ekrem’s death,” Charlotte said.

  “Still?”

  “Yes. It’s a murder case now.”

 
“That’s interesting. What did they want from you?”

  “To interview me again,” she said, wanting to forget the entire incident.

  “That explains Atakan’s presence. He’ll update the Ministry officials.” Ursula smiled. “Too bad.”

  “Too bad?”

  “I hoped you two were hanging out because you’d finally evolved into more than just colleagues, as you put it.”

  “I told you I’m not looking for a lover.”

  “Maybe you should. You were very quiet and moody at dinner

  last night. Getting laid might cheer you up,” Ursula said, cocking a brow.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Are you decent?” Refik called from outside the door.

  “Yes,” Charlotte and Ursula said in unison.

  Refik held the screen door open while he wrote on his clipboard. The menacing first few notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony played from his cell phone. He stuck the pencil behind his ear, tucked the clipboard under an arm, and read the text message. He stood in the open doorway and double-thumbed a response.

  Charlotte grabbed a flyswatter from a wall hook and battled a yellow jacket who buzzed her. Ursula used a rolled up magazine as a weapon to fight the bug homing in on her. Two more yellow jackets flew into the room behind the attackers.

  “Refik, close the door. You’re letting in bugs,” Charlotte ordered. She batted the one after her to the floor and smacked it dead. The bug dive bombing Ursula switched victims and targeted Charlotte, stinging her on the arm. “Ow.” She started to flick it off. “Ow! Hey!” she said with a wince when Ursula struck her hard on the arm with the magazine.

  “Sorry,” Ursula said, showing no remorse.

  Refik shut the door and finished with his text then brought the clipboard up. “Ursula, you have an early dive tomorrow. Make sure you’re back at a decent time tonight,” he said, removing the pencil and writing a notation on the board.

  “I will.”

  “Charlotte, you and Atakan are due to dive next hour. Either help out in the conservation lab or return with me to the Suraya and help out there.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “I’m leaving in ten minutes,” Refik said and left.

  “When the investigators re-interviewed you, what did they want to know?” Ursula asked as she applied a pleasant scented, non-carroty smelling suntan lotion to her face and neck.

  “They think a Ukrainian named Tischenko killed Ekrem and asked if I knew him.”

  “How strange. Why’d they think you would?”

  Charlotte watched Ursula’s expression change from casual interest to looking perplexed.

  “Who knows?”

  “They must’ve found a link between you and this Tischenko. Why bring him up otherwise?”

  “It’s a natural question, a lead they have to follow.” Charlotte had second thoughts about mentioning Tischenko by name to someone not directly involved in the case.

  “Did Atakan question you too? Is that why you secreted yourselves in Refik’s office when you returned?” Ursula’s casual attitude returned as she put the lotion away.

  “No. We talked about something else.”

  Ursula looked like she expected Charlotte to elaborate, when she didn’t Ursula changed the subject. “Uma and I are taking the local bus to Marmaris. Can I bring you anything?”

  “Toothpaste, Colgate or another well known brand, the stuff they sell in the village tastes like shampoo. And a lip balm with a good SPF factor.”

  “Since we’re talking about Atakan, I’ve got a question for you.” Charlotte wanted to ask Ursula why she was a bitch to him about his job. He might’ve been okay with the way she spoke to him, but Charlotte wasn’t.

  “We’ll talk later. Our bus comes soon and I have to go.” Ursula hooked the strap of her purse over her shoulder and left.

  Charlotte considered whether or not she should tell Atakan about the conversation and the fact she mentioned Tischenko to Ursula. She’d better let him know, in case Ursula brought the topic up. Shit.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Ready?” Charlotte pressed her backside against the deck rail for support and balance as she slipped on her fins.

  “Yes,” Atakan said. “Where are Ursula and Uma off to today? I saw them waiting for the bus.

  “Shopping in Marmaris.”

  “Ursula spending her lover’s money?”

  “No idea, but speaking of lovers, she’s desperate to start a rumor about us.” Charlotte flashed him a nervous smile. She felt awkward discussing a perceived intimacy between them. She thought it best to give him a heads up in case talk rippled through camp. After Ursula’s inquiry following the night they walked on the beach, Charlotte expected gossip, but nothing was said. Atakan’s influence maybe, but she doubted they’d skate twice.

  “Oh? She thinks we’re having sex?”

  From his tone, he didn’t seem too bothered by Ursula’s assumption. “She was curious about the Greeks of course. It was the time we spent alone in Refik’s office that got her gossip antenna up.

  “What did she ask you regarding the investigators?”

  “General stuff, who were they, what did they want.”

  “Go on.”

  “I told her who they were. She was interested in the case.”

  “She asked you about the interview?”

  “Yes, but from the glint in her eyes, she preferred to hear steamy details about us.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  Wake from a passing fishing boat hit the Suraya. Atakan immediately widened his stance as the water slapped the hull. He barely swayed with the rolling movement.

  “That we weren’t lovers. What did you think I’d say?” she asked, pressing her butt harder against the rail as the boat rocked.

  “Go back to the part with the Greeks. You said she asked about it?”

  “Yes.” Charlotte was thinking of ways to phrase the Tischenko screw-up so Atakan didn’t get pissed.

  “What did you tell her about the interview?”

  “I kind of said something I shouldn’t have.”

  “Go on.”

  “I said they asked about a guy named Tischenko who they think murdered Ekrem.”

  A serious look of concern crossed his face as he listened.

  “What else did you say?”

  He hadn’t jumped on her for the mistake, which she took as a good sign. She switched directions to the better part of her conversation with Ursula.

  “I didn’t discuss our private talks, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  He hadn’t mentioned what transpired between them since they left Refik’s office the day before. Charlotte wasn’t looking to revive the issues, but she still felt compelled to express her gratitude.

  “Atakan, I want to tell you again, how much your trust means to me. I appreciate the fact you haven’t thrown what I did in my face. It---”

  “Stop. You answered my questions. I’m satisfied with your answers. Let’s not keep treading old ground. How did you explain my presence at the interview on the Greek ship?”

  “Once I set her straight regarding our not being lovers, she accepted you attended to get an update for the Ministry.”

  “Charlotte.” Atakan moved close. “Be careful who you discuss the case with, especially the connection with Tischenko,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Are you concerned because it was Ursula asking? She was definitely an ass to you. But, she hasn’t done anything weird since the night she and Uma showed up at the bar.”

  “Anything we know of and lower your voice.”

  Everyone was busy in other areas of the deck. They were alone at the far end of the bow. “No one’s listening,” she whispered.

  “Speak softly anyway. The circumstances surrounding the murder remain too much of a mystery. Until they can pinpoint who’s involved the less details that get out the better.”

  “I know. It was a dumbass thing to do. I wasn’t
thinking.”

  “Just be more careful.”

  She and Atakan joined the other divers mid-ship where Refik waited to speak to them.

  Charlotte was anxious to hear Refik’s decision on exploring the stern’s hold. He and Talat ate breakfast in his office conferring about the situation. Talat joined the waiting teams on deck but refused to discuss the results.

  The low buzz of conversation stopped as Refik came out from the bridge.

  “Talat and I conducted an intensive inspection of the fragmented deck and the damage done by the collapsed section. Several troubling issues conflate into a uniquely dangerous environment and the possible need for specialized equipment. My decision will be based on the outcome.”

  It wasn’t the news Charlotte wanted to hear, but it wasn’t terrible either.

  Refik hadn’t designated assignments yet. For the past week, the divers used underwater scooters to further explore the area around the farthest grid. Charlotte and Atakan huddled in a corner of the bow and conspired to get the enviable detail.

  Like the others, they wanted the fun assignment and planned on double-teaming Refik. Charlotte explained the concept of “good cop-bad cop” to Atakan, adding they could use a loose version of the same thing.

  “I shall be the good cop. I’ll lobby from the more civilized position. It suits my nature,” Atakan said.

  Charlotte refrained from commenting on how well he played bad cop with her.

  “What does your bad cop role consist of? Because threatening Refik is not such a good thing. Opinion only,” he said, looking unconvinced she’d succeed.

  “You take the bad cop concept too literally. You can do your diplomatic thing. I will badger him in a pleasant, yet firm, feminine way.”

  Atakan listened, a bemused expression on his face. “You will nag him into submission.”

  “What are you, the designated Ambassador of Misogyny? F.Y.I., soft badgering is not nagging.”

  “I doubt he’ll see the distinction.”

  “Whatever.”

  #

  “Take the scooters.” Refik raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “On one condition, do not speak to me for the rest of the day, especially you,” Refik said to Charlotte. He shot Atakan a look of amazement. “A stream of chatter without a breath, why does she dive with an oxygen tank, clearly, she doesn’t need it?”