Secret Passages

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Secret Passages Page 38

by R D Hathaway


  Rennie got out her new cell phone and called Roger’s number. The call went to voice mail. As Rennie began to leave a message, Roger answered.

  “Hi there,” he said.

  “How’s it going? Has Angie got the website up?”

  “She’s doing a great job. The basic structure is set up. She laid in the text she prepared as we drove up here. Now, it’s taking some time to upload the images. Once that’s done, it’s show time.”

  “Our friends who have been on my tail found us. Luckily, it was just after we made the hand-off of the package. It’s on the way. Three cars came up behind us and followed us home.”

  “What, three cars?”

  “Why?”

  “We saw them on our way back. They were flying down the road toward the campground. I turned onto the access ramp to Highway 5 just in time. They must have found you on their way back. Did you ask them if they found your phone?”

  Rennie laughed. “I didn’t get a chance, yet. They’re still sitting out front.”

  “No kidding. What do you think we should do when we’re done?”

  “Call me. If I don’t answer, stay there. Otherwise, we’ll decide then.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  Matthew approached with a cup on a saucer. “Here you go, dear. I took the liberty to put out some sliced cheese with crackers. It would be good to refuel at this point. It may be a long evening.”

  HOME!

  XII - 5

  A loud knock on the front door startled them.

  Anger rushed through Rennie. She shoved open the kitchen door.

  Matthew placed a hand on her shoulder. “This is nearly finished. Let’s not fall into their ways.”

  Her energy and emotion drove her forward. She jerked open the door. The two men she had met at her car were standing there. They said nothing.

  “Agent Maxwell, I presume. Did you come back to lock my door?”

  The men stepped aside to allow an older man to come forward from behind them. His manner was refined, and he wore finely tailored clothing.

  “Miss Haran, it is time that we met. My name is Charles Sfumato. May we come in and visit for a moment?”

  Rennie turned to see where Matthew was.

  He came up behind her and said, “It’s alright.”

  She motioned for the men to enter. The two “agents” stepped in, surveying the environment as they moved. Sfumato gracefully went to a chair in the living room and touched it, as if requesting permission to sit. Rennie nodded her approval.

  Matthew appeared to be alert to every detail of the men. His eyes flashed from one to another but dwelled on the older man. He sat in a chair across from Sfumato, with a table between them. The two “agents” stood in opposite corners of the room with their hands clasped in front of them. Rennie stopped behind the couch, using it as a barrier between herself and Sfumato.

  “Please Miss Haran, I will need to stand again if you do not sit with us. Please join us.”

  Matthew indicated his agreement.

  When she sat down, she was surprised to feel confident and calm. “So, are you the local FBI boss, or are you a boss on the other side of the line?”

  He tapped his fingertips together. “Miss Haran, I regret the unfortunate ruse that was presented to you by my associates. We eagerly wished to discuss with you the remarkable find you and the distinguished Professor MacDonald may have made. In such a situation, discretion is foremost. We obviously erred in the approach taken as we tried to maintain a low profile. You were quite effective at eluding our contacts.”

  His smile showed a hint of arrogance, yet respect.

  “Am I supposed to know you mister? Who are you?”

  “There is no particular reason why you would know me.” He looked at Matthew. “But then, Professor MacDonald may be acquainted with my name.”

  Matthew’s eyes sparkled. He turned to Rennie. “I can offer some small insights. Mr. Sfumato is a noted collector of antiquities. He is quite actively involved in all aspects of finding and collecting ancient artifacts, except of course, actually digging for them. You are from California, is it?”

  “Quite right, Professor. My home and office are in San Francisco.”

  Matthew adjusted his glasses and his face became tight, almost pale. “There has been much talk in the professional world we share that the thousands of priceless items taken from the Baghdad Museum and other preserves of history found their way into private collections.” His nostrils flared. “What do you know of this?”

  Sfumato flicked a piece of lint off his pant leg. “That may undoubtedly happen. It is quite distressing what happened over there. My only wish is that the artifacts are safe.”

  “And, what was your role in that?” Matthew shot back.

  Rennie interrupted the sudden tension between the men. “Excuse me. Mr. Sfumato, how did you become so quickly aware of any discoveries I may have happened upon?”

  He tugged on a shirt sleeve and adjusted his cuff link. “In my business, it is important to have friends in many places. Even here in Iowa, I have a few valuable acquaintances. This assignment you have been on may have commenced from one of them. Your sudden journey to London suggested that something interesting may have arisen.”

  His eyes narrowed and his relaxed demeanor stiffened. “While you were in London, you were being watched, Miss Haran.”

  “I know that.” She felt a renewal of her intensity.

  “Perhaps, what I intended to say was that my people in London were watching over you. I believe you received an unexpected gift at your hotel one day.”

  Rennie grit her teeth. Before she could respond, Sfumato continued.

  “The stone you received was not from my people. It came from a man who has an inordinate passion to keep holy treasures from reaching the populace. He is directly related to the story you have been pursuing.”

  A grin reappeared on Sfumato’s face. “You see, there was a cleric who knew the Professor when he was in London. This fellow, —.”

  “Worthy,” Rennie spit out.

  Sfumato looked pleasantly surprised. “Yes, exactly,” he purred. “The Reverend Worthy had a daughter to whom he apparently told the story of Professor Justus. Through marriage and political skills, she grew to be quite a commanding presence. She was more disciplined, shall we say, than her father.”

  Rennie felt calm and clever. “So, what about her, this daughter.”

  “She developed something of an obsession with this story and passed the illness on to her son, Seth Galila. He became quite wealthy in the corporate legal field. More relevant to our interests, he became a serious problem to anyone interested in ancient treasures, particularly those with connections to Jewish or Christian matters. He is devoted to stopping any such artifact from becoming revealed and does so by obtaining and destroying them. He thinks of them as dangerous to Christian doctrine. His practices can be deadly.”

  “Mr. Galila’s people somehow became aware of you. One of my people in London observed them following you. Miss Haran, at a certain point, your safety was questionable.”

  “I get the feeling Mr. Sfumato that you’re suggesting you are on my side.”

  “Miss Haran, everyone is on their own side. That’s how the world works. It just turned out that for a moment, my people were able to eliminate the threat you and your friend were facing in London. Without their actions, you might not be here today.”

  Sfumato’s face was suddenly transformed into an almost child-like innocence. “What’s more, the man sent two of his people here, following you on your return. Those men are now in police custody. It only took a call to certain Homeland Security people in Washington. Galila’s men didn’t get past Chicago,” he exclaimed with pleasure.

  Rennie relaxed into the couch. “So, why are you here?”

  “Once information was
made available regarding your possible success in finding the treasure, I immediately flew here. This business includes people in all strata of society. Some, like Galila can be dangerous. Wouldn’t you agree, Professor? It is in your best interests that I arrived first. Someone more interested in the artifact and less interested in you might have handled this with less dexterity.”

  Matthew turned to Rennie. “That is true. As with all things, there is a light side and a dark. I’m just not sure on which side Mr. Sfumato wishes to be.”

  “Aptly put, Professor. Your frame of reference is not unexpected.”

  Sfumato rested his hands in his lap. He gave Rennie a sinister look. “Given the late hour and our journeys through the bucolic charm of Iowa, please update us regarding the status of your find.”

  Rennie didn’t like his snide attitude. “I’m surprised you aren’t up to date on that. Didn’t your associate Agent Maxwell have a sufficient log of my calls, e-mail, and travel? Perhaps he missed some key information when he was in my house.”

  Sfumato glanced across the room at one of the men standing in a corner, then back at her. “I’m not in touch with all that goes on. I thought it would be best if we discussed this face to face. I’d like to know the nature of what you have found, where it may best be preserved, and how we can resolve these questions.”

  Rennie leaned forward. “Would you like to begin by seeing what it is that I found?”

  His eyes brightened. “Yes, I would be most delighted to see your discovery. Is it here?”

  “Yes. I keep it right here.” Rennie patted the couch cushion.

  He glanced at the cushion. “There is no need for sarcasm, miss.” His voice rose in volume. “I am not here to wage some petty disagreement. I am a businessman who has a reputable role in preserving the ancient treasures of this world. Our time is valuable. The nature of what you may have found deserves the respect of considering all options in its preservation.”

  “What about its disclosure? How would you disclose its contents to the world?”

  “We would consider that in due time. Once it is secure, properly reviewed, and in the right hands, we would make decisions as to any disclosure.”

  Rennie felt intense. “If I understand you correctly, and please feel free to chime in here Matthew, when you have this treasure securely in your collection, you will decide whether or not the contents or nature of the find is made known to others?”

  “Miss Haran, with the most precious artifacts, one must always be cautious of revealing their existence. This is an unpredictable world. I must be blunt. We need to move forward. What is the price you wish to receive for your discovery?”

  Rennie relaxed again. “Thanks for being direct. I regret I don’t know your business. What’s the value of something that is priceless?”

  “I am always amused with that term. Somehow, people are always able to name their price. Their marriage, their home, their health, their dignity all has a price. So, what might be yours? What personal dreams can be fulfilled for you?”

  Rennie enjoyed a deep breath. “Now you’re talking my language. I can translate that back to you. Is that okay?”

  “Absolutely, whatever helps us move ahead.”

  “Good. This is how I think of price. From my perspective, price is not something I get. It is the willing gift that I pay to honor God. There is no price too high for that. I regret I haven’t come to know that sooner in life nor well enough even now. The treasure I have found is priceless, and that means I will give it to you for free.”

  Matthew’s mouth dropped open. Sfumato appeared to be confused, looking quickly at Rennie and then Matthew.

  “That would be most generous of you, Miss Haran. Are you serious?”

  Rennie’s telephone rang. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” She hurried to answer it.

  It was Roger. “We’re done. Can we come over?”

  “Wonderful. Please come.”

  Sfumato shifted in his chair and straightened his suit coat. His eyes darted around the room. “Are more guests coming, Miss Haran?”

  “Just a couple of friends. One you may know. She’s a wild librarian.”

  He looked at his watch. “It’s nearly midnight. Perhaps, we should continue our discussion later this morning. I need to fly back very soon.”

  Rennie realized they had done all they could do. The package was on its way and the website was up. She returned to the couch.

  “Mr. Sfumato, I apologize for my behavior tonight. Within the frame of reference you live in, people probably consider you an honorable man. This has been a challenging project and an emotional roller coaster of mythic proportions. If you want to see what we found, please wait for just a few minutes.”

  He took a noticeable breath and seemed to relax. “Thank you, and there is no need for apologies. Our own approach to this may have been less than appropriate. I hope we can move ahead in a positive tone.”

  Rennie stood up. “While we wait, how about if I get some snacks?”

  She checked with the two men in the corners. They smiled awkwardly and declined.

  Sfumato slipped forward in his chair. “That would be gracious of you. Would it be acceptable if Professor MacDonald and I chatted for a moment?”

  Rennie nodded to Matthew. “To the degree you believe it appropriate, go ahead and describe what was found. Oh, and by the way Mr. Sfumato, the Professor’s last name is actually ‘Justus.’”

  Matthew followed by Sfumato moved to the dining room table where their conversation was more private. Rennie observed them for a moment, then proceeded to the kitchen. Matthew’s demeanor was cool and scholarly, but he became more animated and seemed to enjoy the discussion.

  Rennie used her cell phone to make a brief phone call. Then she arranged cups, glasses and small plates on the kitchen table and was removing cheese and fruit from the refrigerator when Roger and Angie entered through the back door. Rennie whispered a brief explanation to them. They quickly helped her assemble the appetizers and placed them on trays. Her cell phone buzzed, and she answered the call. She listened for a minute and said, ‘thank you.’

  As they brought the items into the living and dining rooms, Rennie provided brief introductions of Angie and Roger.

  Angie went to Rennie’s computer, logged on to the internet, and found her new Web site. Roger prepared a dish of snacks, and with a glass of water, sat in a wing-back chair near the bookcase.

  Rennie noticed the diplomatic guile of Sfumato disappeared as Matthew described what had been found and what was in the letters. Sfumato asked questions with the urgent, wide-eyed desire of a child anticipating Christmas.

  Noticing the others were waiting, the two men stood and warmly shook hands. Sfumato expressed new vitality. He turned to Rennie. “Miss Haran, you and your team has undertaken an extraordinary task in a brilliant fashion. I congratulate your investigative diligence.” He shook her hand with enthusiasm. “I would embrace you if I were not a gentleman.”

  “That’s okay, shaking hands is fine. Please sit down and have something. Your associates are also welcome to sit. There’s no danger here.”

  Rennie took a chair next to Matthew.

  With some hesitation, Sfumato prompted his associates to join them at the dining table. Angie moved to the couch from the desk.

  “Have you heard of anything like this before?” Rennie asked Sfumato.

  He swirled the tea in his cup. A slight smile emerged at the corners of his mouth. “For centuries, there have been rumors that such documents exist. Some suggested the Vatican’s private libraries held remarkable texts. Others said the Antiquities Authority in Israel has much more from the Qumran discovery than the Dead Sea scrolls. There are also rumors of remarkable documents in the archives of the Topkapi Museum in Istanbul. And, you might imagine, since the 1920’s, there were stories of a find at the British Museum. Efforts to
clarify these were never successful.”

  He studied Rennie and Matthew for a moment. “People inquired as they could, but until now, the real story was unknown.” A wistful smile appeared on his face. “Now, this special quest of mine is complete.”

  Deep calm filled Rennie. “I must be straight with you. We no longer have the letters. They are on the way to London. The British Museum has agreed to participate in securing the letters.”

  Sfumato blinked a few times. He glanced at Matthew as if expecting him to say something.

  Rennie beamed from an inner joy. “Not only that, at this moment, people all over the world are now able to see the letters, and they can see them for free. We set up a website that displays the letters and translations of the letters. Angie has it over there if you want to check it out.”

  Angie went to the desk. Sfumato appeared to be confused. He looked at his men, as if in need of help. With the assistance of one man, he left his chair and joined Angie at the computer. He stared at the screen as she moved through the website pages. His face appeared pale and lifeless. His eyes reflected a flurry of thought.

  “How could you do this?” he said in a weak exhale. “This is a disaster.”

  “We tend to think it is a triumph, sir,” Angie said.

  Sfumato glared at Matthew. “Who in London has the letters? You know I can find them.”

  “They’re in good hands.” Matthew replied.

  The man pointed at Angie. “You may find that your school will have some serious questions for you regarding your management of its priceless assets. As for you Miss Haran, I believe your role in legitimate journalism may be over.”

  Rennie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the dining table. “Frankly, those concerns have meant little to us since we realized our mission. In fact, while I was in the kitchen earlier, I called my boss to let him know what was going on. He called our publisher, whom you may know.”

  She sensed how fragile Sfumato had become.

  “Even at this late hour, he reached her, and he called me back. They look forward to seeing the information online. You see, the newspaper wanted the story, not the letters. The paper got what it wanted.”

 

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