Golden Chariot

by Chris Karlsen

  “On my way.”

  When Charlotte left, Atakan brought out his carry-on case and unlocked the metal box he stored there. Moving aside the external hard-drive to his laptop with secured information, he took out his wallet and expensive watch his parents gave him. He relocked the box but not the case and stuck the bag under the cot again.

  Charlotte accused him of being paranoid when she saw the metal box. He was careful with the few things he kept inside. He wasn’t as diligent with the phone. No need. If it was stolen, he’d requisition a replacement. The loss would be a minor irritant, the stored data relatively routine as per the Ministry’s strict guidelines. Classified information like suspicious activity or imminent arrests was forbidden from going out over their cells. He adhered to the policy. Violation provoked the wrath of Firat. The Director’s anger resulted in “debriefings,” his code word for endless, boring lectures. The worst part of losing his phone was the inconvenience of paperwork.

  After a few minutes, Charlotte returned.

  “Nothing was delivered,” she said, sounding excited. “Ursula walked in on me while I was hunting around for her cell. She had the phone with her and was talking to someone, Stevan I think. She cut the conversation off when she saw me. Nice,” Charlotte said, admiring Atakan’s Rado watch.

  “Thank you. Did you hear any part of her conversation?”

  “I don’t know what your interest in Ursula’s phone is since you’ve chosen not to impart any information. Something is definitely wrong with her though. I’m telling you this in case it has some bearing on your mysterious request.”

  Curiosity was killing Charlotte, he knew. The comment was a fishing expedition on her part. From her disappointed expression, his secrecy hurt her feelings. He wished he could share his suspicions with her. For now, that was impossible until he learned more.

  “Go on,” he said.

  Looking more disappointed, she nodded and said, “She was crying and appeared distraught about something.”

  Atakan hooked his cell phone to a loop on his jeans and sat on the bed. He pulled a pair of shoes out from under the dresser and slipped them over his bare feet, running a finger around the back.

  Charlotte’s gaze dropped to his shoes and up again. “Loafers and not sandals? Must be an important friend.” she commented, wandering off topic.

  Atakan let the remark hang. “Regarding Ursula, did she say why she was upset?”

  “No. But after she hung up, she sat on the edge of the bed with this haunted stare. Very strange, if you ask me.”

  The choked off scream, Damla’s laughter, whatever transpired between he and Ursula triggered the emotional reaction. What in the exchange was the cause?

  “Did you get a look at her phone?”

  “Yes. She tossed it on the bed when she hung up. It’s a standard Vodafone.”

  “Can you get your hands on it?”

  “I suppose. She leaves it behind when she’s on a dive.”

  “Good. Get it to me, the sooner the better,” Atakan said.

  “You’re not going to give me a clue as to why?”

  “No.” He stood and urged Charlotte to the door.

  She resisted his light hand on her back. “What will you do if I say I won’t help unless I get at least a hint?”

  “I’ll remind you of our talk and how you asked me to believe in your innocence. You want me to trust you, yet when I ask you to reciprocate that trust you fight me.”

  “I should’ve known you’d play the trust card.”

  “What’s it to be? Choose. We either have trust between us or we don’t.”

  “I trust you. That’s not in doubt. But, I have a right to know if I’m being used as a pawn in a totally unrelated issue...some gopher in a matter that has nothing to do with my problem. I don’t see how Damla and Ursula are involved in Ekrem’s murder investigation. It’s obvious you suspect them of something. Why won’t you tell me what it is?”

  “Because I don’t know, right now, I only have instinct.”

  “Not a very satisfactory response.” She tilted her head and tipped her chin up the way women do when they’re trying to provoke a reaction. “I find it interesting you weren’t surprised when I put the two of them together. I was fishing.”

  Charlotte was clever. Her pairing the two didn’t surprise Atakan. He appreciated her intellect, but at the moment he’d trade clever for quiet compliance.

  “Yes, I know. Subtlety isn’t your forte.”

  He understood her displeasure too. Underwater they relied on each other completely. Their mutual respect and confidence was well established. She wanted the same on land.

  “Ursula’s disrespect to you is inexcusable. I dislike her for it. However, she’s never done anything bad to me, personally. I’m not real comfortable being party to your invasion of her privacy.”

  Atakan let her talk. She was working out her decision while verbalizing her concerns. He wouldn’t interfere with her choice, but he hoped that her loyalty was stronger to him than Ursula.

  Charlotte turned away from him and walked to the door. “I’ll get the phone to you at the first opportunity.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Atakan stayed behind awaiting his friend while the team went to dinner at the village café.

  “Another round of beers please,” Talat told the bakery woman’s husband.

  Charlotte stuck with local wine although no one was willing to split a bottle with her. She figured she’d drink two glasses max and take the rest of the bottle back to camp.

  She had her back to the café’s entrance, talking to Talat and Gerard when both men’s attention turned toward a point behind her. Refik, who was sitting across the table also looked. Charlotte swiveled in her chair to see what had them staring.

  Atakan walked in with an arm around his friend, a striking brunette. The woman was the color of café au lait. Her skin glowed as though she moisturized with a thin layer of lanolin. Mink brown, her hair was several shades lighter than Charlotte’s coal black hair. It hung in soft curls to her shoulders, so feminine compared to Charlotte’s simple ponytail. She wore a white silk sun dress that clung to an hourglass figure with a waistline Nick could fit his two hands around. She had white ankle strap high-heeled sandals. Little nothings of shoes with a couple of strips of leather strategically placed that managed to be sexy as hell. Charlotte owned a pair of ankle strap sandals once. She gave them away. They hurt her feet.

  Atakan dragged two chairs over from another table and set them next to Charlotte. “This is Ermine,” he said and introduced everyone to her. “This is Charlotte, my dive partner.” He gestured as Ermine sat in the chair closest to Charlotte.

  Ermine held out her French manicured hand. “It is nice to meet you.”

  Charlotte shook it, keenly aware of her own short, practical nails and the fact she hadn’t had a manicure since leaving the States.

  “Atakan speaks well of you. He says you are a clever archaeologist, most competent,” Ermine said.

  “That’s kind of him.”

  “He also says you have strange but unique theories.”

  “Does he now?” Charlotte shot a glance at Atakan who looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “Your English is very good.”

  “Thank you. I am still learning. It is more difficult for me than the other languages I speak.”

  “What others do you speak?” Charlotte shifted to the right and squinted a bit, trying to see if Ermine’s thick eyelashes were real.

  “I am fluent in Spanish, German, Greek, and correctable in Russian.”

  “Impressive.”

  “What about you? I imagine since you work with scientists from many countries, you know several languages also.”

  “Not really,” Charlotte admitted, annoyed by the innocent question. “I’m fluent in French and correctable in Turkish. Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “I thank you for the offer but I do not drink...” She turned to Atakan and whispered something. Atak
an whispered something in return that Charlotte didn’t catch.

  “I do not drink alcohol,” Ermine said, turning back.

  Atakan ordered a glass of tea for Ermine and a beer for himself.

  “This is exciting for me. Atakan’s reports on the project and your team are very positive,” Ermine said to Refik.

  “Ermine--” Atakan said in a low voice.

  Conversations had resumed after the introductions, but stopped again with her remark. The group’s attention returned to Ermine.

  Rachel and Uma flanked Talat, each with a hand on one of his bare thighs. “You read the reports?” Talat asked.

  “Often yes. I work in the Ministry Office with Atakan in Istanbul.”

  “Ermine, this is a social visit.” Atakan laid his palm on her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

  Charlotte understood Atakan’s intent with the gesture. It was a subtle signal for her to shut up or change the subject.

  “All of his reports?” Refik asked, sounding concerned.

  “Not all of course, not the confidential communiqués. Those go unopened to the Director,” Ermine said, apparently oblivious to the warning squeeze.

  Refik’s eyes were on Atakan, who tipped his head once confirming what she said was true. “Just wondering,” Refik said and started talking to Gerard about an upcoming football match between their countries.

  “Ermine, everyone is here to relax.” Atakan nudged her glass of tea closer. “They don’t want to hear about my job.”

  Charlotte noticed the steel in his tone even if Ermine didn’t.

  Ermine ignored the tea but changed the subject. “Well, I’m also excited to visit this area. I never came to the peninsula before. We’re going to Bozburun tonight. Atakan tells me there’s a lovely old hotel in the village. Picture...picture…”

  “Picturesque,” Charlotte filled in for her.

  “Yes.”

  “It is.”

  “He said he took you there for drinks and you liked it,” Ermine said, finally taking a sip of her tea.

  From the way she phrased the comment, it sounded as though Atakan hadn’t mentioned Nick and Jeff came along or that Ursula and Uma joined them. It danced across Charlotte’s mind to clarify she and Atakan hadn’t gone as a couple. Why should she? Ermine was his business not hers.

  “I did.”

  “Is it true all the rooms have a sea view?” Ermine asked.

  Charlotte recognized a fishing question when she heard one and gave her an ambiguous answer, not the least ashamed of the pettiness behind it. “All the rooms...hmm, I wouldn’t know about all the rooms for sure.”

  Next to Ermine, Atakan was taking cash out of his wallet. “Speaking of Bozburun, we should go.”

  “I’m not finished with my tea.”

  “They have tea in Bozburun,” he said and left the money on the table.

  Charlotte excused herself to go to the ladies room as Atakan and Ermine said their goodbyes. She walked through the bakery and waited on the road for Atakan. When he and Ermine stepped into the street, Charlotte called to him.

  He told a tense looking Ermine to stay where she was and joined Charlotte.

  Charlotte kept the information about Ursula’s phone cryptic in case Ermine overheard. “Schedule’s posted. The person we discussed dives early in the morning and again mid-afternoon. I’ll acquire the merchandise you wanted then, provided you’re back by morning.”

  “I’ll be back early, but the equipment I ordered from Ankara won’t arrive until noon. Hold off until the second dive.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “What’s the hold up?” Charlotte continued pacing.

  Atakan leaned against the bulkhead with his arms folded. “You’re wound very tight this morning.”

  “Wound up, it’s wound up. Wound tight is similar but different in meaning.”

  “Pick the one that means cranky,” he said, yawning.

  “I’m not cranky. I’m anxious.”

  He suffocated another yawn.

  “Busy night?”

  “Long night.”

  She cocked a brow and then turned her face and mumbled, “I’ll bet.”

  “Pardon? What did you say?” he asked, grinning.

  “Nothing.

  “You said something.”

  “No, I didn’t. Where’s Refik?” She banged her fins harder against her leg.

  “Settle down. He’s coming now.”

  “Stop that,” Refik said approaching them and pointed to her fin banging. “Your impatience is duly noted.”

  She stopped and slipped her fins on as he spoke.

  “No matter what you see, don’t touch anything,” Refik ordered. “Pictures only, for now. I told you, I’d let you be the first in to view the stern hold’s interior.”

  Refik held a team meeting days earlier. The meter high pithoi were stacked in three rows with a layer of dunnage between each. The rows ran the width of that portion of the hull where the stern began to narrow and dovetail into the keel. The majority of the group felt keeping the height and depth of the rows as much intact as possible was the safest procedure. They chose to pare them from one side, removing only enough to allow divers to explore further into the recessed area of the hold. The side where the collapsed decking lay on top of the amphoras they left in place. The excess weight shattered several of the large containers in the upper row. The rest survived upright or had minor damage.

  “Talat and I inspected the exterior early this morning. We saw no change, but we can’t be certain if the weight shift from the amphoras we removed had a negative effect,” Refik reminded them.

  “Understood.” Charlotte and Atakan double-checked the equipment and jumped down to the dive step.

  Refik and Talat noted that beyond the remaining container rows a portion of the deck fell inward although not completely through. Something prevented the total collapse. Charlotte and Atakan would investigate the source.

  They kicked their way down and approached carefully. Since she had the light, Charlotte went in first. Atakan followed close with the camera. Zero light from the surface reached this recessed section. A curtain of absolute black closed around them. On previous photographic assignments, the white of the lamp diffused outward into a fuzzy haze. Here, the darkness allowed Charlotte’s lamp a single bright spot of unusual clarity. She experienced an initial sense of isolation, as though this space existed apart from the rest of the wreck.

  As a precaution, Charlotte lit the bottom to insure no pieces of the hull’s planking protruded at a dangerous angle to entangle or injure them. The area was clear and they swam further inside. They used a system similar to pictures taken with time-lapse photography. She’d move the lamp in increments of five meters as he snapped photos.

  Atakan pointed up. He wanted shots of the rotted deck wood and the position. The view would help the team assess the best way to safely remove what remained.

  She swam backward tracking right to left, keeping her attention on the overhead section. They still had to locate the source preventing complete collapse. She’d have preferred getting that out of the way first. Caution dictated a more methodical system. Progress was painfully slow and required patience she didn’t have a lot of.

  Her elbow struck something hard. She spun, shining the light on the object. A woman with a stark white face and ebony eyes stared back at her. Charlotte swallowed a startled scream. Jerking away from the ghost, she banged into Atakan, almost dropping the lamp.

  The ghost was one of four life size marble statues and unique from the other three starting with her black stone eyes. Her face, arms and feet were white marble, like the rest, but the gown covering her body from throat to ankle was black marble. Charlotte hadn’t seen a female statue from that period carved in black and white. The sculptor denied the woman a classical coif. Instead, her hair winged out in a wild, unruly fashion. The spectral figure exuded menace with the exception of the apple she held in her outstretched palm. Charlotte examined the ap
ple under her strong light. The fruit was perfect, artfully crafted with delicate veined leaves and curved stem.

  Charlotte wondered who she represented.

  The three white marble statues stood together but apart from the apple bearer. She recognized the first of the other three as the warrior goddess Athena. Armed with a shield at her side and wearing a breastplate, her hair was worn in a battle practical thick braid down her back.

  The wife of Zeus, the powerful goddess Hera, stood next to Athena. Her elegant gown draped over the length of her body with the hem flowing outward like waves. The upper portion of her dress swathed her shoulders in a continuous wrap that became her headdress covering a coronet.

  The third female stood on the opposite side of Athena. She was the beautiful goddess Aphrodite. Easily recognized by the exposed legs, the marble folds of her gown covered the tops of perfectly proportioned thighs. Her hair fell in gentle curls to her waist.

  Broken and unbroken rotted planks lay at various angles on top and at the feet of the goddesses. From the lack of damage to the sculptures and their upright positions, Charlotte surmised the ship went down under the power of a single, great wave. The hull sustained considerable battering, smashing against the seabed, breaking apart and scattering much of the cargo.

  Protected by heavy decking and set back from the open section of the hold, the goddesses survived the worst of the storm’s fury. When the remaining deck collapsed under the rocks, most of those planks caved in toward mid-ship and not over the statues. Those that did shatter on top of the recessed area had their weight spread over the Rhodian amphoras and the goddess figures, minimizing the damage.

  Charlotte studied the group. Why these three rival goddesses, and who was the one in black and white? She wished she could discuss the matter with Atakan before they surfaced. She’d love his opinion. The obvious clue to the scene was the fourth unknown woman.

  Charlotte did a quick recap of the goddesses of the time and region. Which one was a mythological outsider? Why was she offering an apple to the others? What did the apple represent? Then, it hit her. She wanted to shout. The implication of her conclusion was the strongest evidence yet of the validity of her theory.