Leroy tried to dismiss the urge to listen to his messages. After all, he had big party plans for tonight and didn’t want to be distracted. On the other hand, the cowboy usually operated on instinct and that method had always served him well. As a tracker, he knew that good instincts spelled the difference between a dead animal and a live one. That rule applied to two-legged critters as well as four-legged ones. Try as he might, he couldn’t quell the impulse to check that phone right away.
Of course, he couldn’t power it on from this location. Swearing under his breath, he switched on the ignition and drove off. About ten miles down the road, he pulled into a gas station parking lot. That should be far enough away from the farmhouse so as not to attract Mr. Big’s attention. Leroy had already disabled the GPS tracking feature on his phone but whoever was dogging him could still triangulate a signal if he stayed on the line too long. He’d have to make this quick. He parked and switched the phone on. Sure enough, there were half a dozen voice mail messages waiting for him. The first one was time-stamped early that evening. It was businesslike. The preacher’s voice was cut and dried. “Mr. Hunt, please phone me immediately.” Click. By the time Leroy reached the sixth, he had to turn the volume down. It was time-stamped at 11 PM, and the old man was spitting brimstone. He wanted the cowboy to drop whatever he was doing and call back ASAP, no matter how late.
Leroy cursed his luck and switched the phone off again. Those calls needed to be answered but not from here. The cowboy’s only option was to drive back to his apartment in order to have his late-night chat with the preacher. He was already certain he knew the reason for all those messages. The old man wanted him to saddle up and hit the trail with Daniel, most likely at the crack of dawn.
If that was the case, then Leroy couldn’t afford to start something tonight that he couldn’t finish. If he went ahead and snuffed Hannah right now, the days after her unfortunate demise would be critical. He would need to hover at Abe’s elbow to maneuver him into the right frame of mind over his dearly-departed—to steer the preacher away from any suspicion of foul play. He couldn’t manage Abe from overseas, so it was either one thing or the other. Kill Hannah tonight or follow Daniel tomorrow. The competing ideas tussled inside his head for priority. He let out a frustrated growl, feeling as frazzled as a two-dollar whore on nickel night.
After some serious internal struggle, Leroy decided it was best to follow the money. His staged break-in would have to keep til he got back. He shrugged philosophically. After watching Hannah and the old lady go through their boring routine for two solid weeks, it was obvious nothing earth-shattering was going to happen before he returned. Muttering a final curse, he started his engine and drove back to the city to place his call.
Chapter 31—Crowning Moment
The airplane touched down smoothly and on schedule in Padang City. Immediately after they retrieved their luggage, Griffin, Cassie, and Elle took a taxi to their high-rise hotel in the downtown district.
The island on which the city sat had once been part of the Dutch West Indies. In modern times, Sumatra was a big draw for surfers who could find immense waves on the island’s western shore. As a result, tourism had become a major industry, and beach resorts weren’t hard to find. Though the 2009 earthquake had demolished many of the older inns, ultra-modern replacements quickly rose to take their place.
When the three arrived at their hotel, they checked in and separated briefly to unpack. After reconvening in the lobby, Elle led them outside to a waiting car.
“No taxi?” Cassie asked.
“It’s quite a distance out to the village, so I hired a car and driver for the afternoon. Get in,” she directed them.
Elle sat up front while the other two slid into the back. Once the doors were shut, the driver screeched away from the curb. The sentinel shifted in her seat to speak to them. “You don’t want to take the wheel yourself in this part of the world, trust me, and it isn’t simply because there’s a left-hand traffic pattern. Indonesians have a very unusual take on the whole driving experience.”
Their chauffeur slapped on the brakes to avoid hitting a pedestrian, causing his passengers to lurch forward.
Unfazed, Elle continued, “They carry a set of Rules of the Road in their heads, but sometimes their intuition is off the mark. Do you know there’s no such thing as vehicular manslaughter here?”
Griffin squinted at her in disbelief. “Really?”
“I swear. If somebody gets killed accidentally in a car accident, the person responsible just pays compensation to the victim’s family, and they all walk away. In fact, the person driving the biggest car usually gets stuck with the bill because everybody assumes he can afford it.”
“You’re kidding!” Cassie gasped.
“I wish I was,” Elle countered. “Driving here would scare the hell out of my mother—the New York cabbie.” She shook her head in wonder. “Indonesians. They’re the nicest people on the planet, but they drive like maniacs.”
As if to punctuate her comment, the driver slapped on the brakes again, almost sending the sentinel through the windshield. This time, a motorcycle had cut directly in front of their car to make an unsignaled right turn.
“Need I say more?” Elle turned to face forward and cinched her seatbelt.
They traveled in silence for nearly half an hour. Once out of the city traffic, they passed coffee and rubber plantations on a flat plain which separated the sea from the mountains to the east. The driver took a road leading upward toward the hills. After days spent in the cool mountain air of Lugu Lake, the humid tropical climate took some getting used to.
Fortunately, the higher the car climbed, the cooler the air became. The road grew narrower, and the vegetation became so dense that it qualified as a jungle. The car followed one bend after another in a series of disorienting curves until it brought them into a clearing. A jumble of houses of varying sizes sprouted from the undergrowth. They were constructed of wood and bamboo on pilings raised about ten feet off the ground. Some houses had horn-shaped gables of woven palm fronds which were so sharply pitched they resembled steeples. Elle informed them that this design was meant to mimic the horns of a water buffalo. The driver stopped in front of the biggest house in the village. Its proportions suggested it might be the town hall rather than a dwelling.
They all got out.
“We’re here,” Elle announced. “I sent word ahead, and she’s expecting us.”
A woman less than five-feet tall emerged at the top of the front stairs to greet them. She was dressed in a floral batik mumu dress. In her sixties, the matriarch was portly with short gray hair and a good-humored face.
Elle rushed up the stairs ahead of the rest. The sentinel and the matriarch exchanged greetings in the local language. Then Elle gestured for Griffin and Cassie to join them.
“I’d like you to meet...” Elle rattled off a name several syllables long.
Griffin and Cassie eyed one another, silently trying to decide whether they should be rude enough to ask the sentinel to repeat the name.
Cassie whispered, “I don’t think we’d be able to catch that even if you repeated it a dozen times.” She stepped forward and took the woman’s hand. “Very nice to meet you.” She gave a little bow.
Griffin did the same.
The matriarch gestured them inside. The interior of the huge house offered what appeared to be a long, covered verandah at the front where guests were received. The floors, walls, and support beams were made of varnished wood. Pendant lamps hung at intervals from the ceiling. Every five feet, window openings had been cut into the walls though they contained no glass. Given the tropical climate, this seemed a practical design. Moveable shutters could be lowered to keep out the rain. The matriarch motioned for them to take seats. There were four bentwood chairs with cloth seat covers and backrests arranged around a small tea table. This furniture grouping was repeated all along the length of the fifty-foot parlor. Despite the immense siz
e of the building, nobody else appeared to be in residence.
“These ancestral houses are built on a big scale,” Elle explained. “Some of them go back centuries. Think of this more like the rec center of a housing development. Aside from this being the home of the women of the family, various functions and ceremonies are held here too.”
The guests nodded and took chairs around the table.
Elle directed her next question to their hostess. Griffin and Cassie inferred she was asking about the whereabouts of the artifact.
The matriarch’s face lit up with a smile, and she raised her hand in a gesture which obviously meant they should wait while she retrieved it.
Scanning the interior, Cassie said to Elle, “You picked a good hiding place. This house is so huge there must be dozens of nooks and crannies where nobody would think to look.”
“Just between you and me, I think our hostess is relieved that I came to claim it so soon. She probably felt it was a big responsibility, but she was too polite to tell me so.”
A few moments later, the tiny woman shuffled back to the parlor bearing a bundle wrapped in brightly colored cloth. She laid it on the table and Elle did the honors of unwrapping it.
Cassie and Griffin rose to stand behind her as she completed the operation. When they saw what the bundle contained, they traded looks of triumphant recognition.
Elle gazed upward at them “Is this what you came to find?”
Griffin traced the Minoan glyphs carved into the object with his index finger. “Without a doubt. These symbols look quite familiar.”
The sentinel gave a nod of confirmation and rewrapped the object. Smiling at the matriarch, she spoke at length. Apparently, expressing gratitude in Baso Padang was a very complicated process. Then she opened her messenger bag, deposited the artifact inside, and pulled out a rectangular velvet box which she handed to their hostess.
“It’s a thank you gift for acting as caretaker,” she explained to the other two.
At that moment a younger woman appeared from the opposite side of the house carrying a tray.
“That’s her youngest daughter,” Elle said.
The girl set down chilled glasses of a frothy white beverage.
Handing them around, the sentinel said, “This is called dadiah. Fermented water buffalo milk. Think of it as Sumatran yogurt. I’ll warn you it’s an acquired taste.”
“After yak butter tea, I don’t think I’ll have too much trouble adapting,” Cassie mumbled under her breath.
The matriarch’s daughter also set out small dishes of what appeared to be fruit covered by scoops of a frozen white substance.
“That’s es campur, Elle explained. “It’s a coconut slushie with chunks of fruit. They eat it for dessert here.”
The visitors sampled the refreshments and gave wide smiles to indicate their pleasure.
Their hostess beamed at them, clearly delighted by their reaction. Once they had all finished and the dishes were cleared away, the matriarch picked up the box Elle had given her. When she raised the lid to view the contents, a string of phrases erupted from her mouth that continued for a full minute. It didn’t take a translator to understand that she was impressed by the gift.
She called her daughter back into the room and held the object up for her to see.
Both Griffin and Cassie gasped audibly when they saw it too.
“It’s a crown,” the pythia blurted out.
“More like a tiara,” Elle corrected. “It’s part of the traditional Minangkabau ceremonial headdress.”
Unlike a circular crown or a tiara, the headpiece was flat. It was held in place by a gold headband which fitted the wearer’s temples. The design was an ornate gold filigree of flowers and leaves. The scalloped edges rose to a peak half a foot high. At its apex, the headdress contained a large jewel.
“That can’t be a diamond,” Cassie whispered to Griffin. “It’s huge!”
“Given the value of the rest of the crown, I hardly think it’s cubic zirconia,” the scrivener retorted dryly.
The matriarch and her daughter avidly examined the gift, making comments to one another as they pointed to various features of its design.
Elle leaned over to say, “It’s meant to be a family heirloom. When the next daughter gets married, she’ll wear this.”
Griffin remarked, “It must have cost you a fortune.”
“Not me, sport,” she retorted archly. “I’m sticking you with the bill. All part of my master plan. I set this in motion the minute I knew our rendezvous at Lugu Lake was in the stars.”
The scrivener blinked once in shock before he immediately conceded. “Very well.” Reaching into his shirt pocket, he removed a business card. Handing it to the sentinel, he said, “You may send an invoice to this address. I assure you, it will be paid promptly.”
Elle gave a satisfied nod. “A pleasure doing business with you.”
The matriarch directed several questions to Elle and continued to exclaim over the beauty and expense of the gift.
While the others were speaking, Griffin leaned over and whispered in Cassie’s ear, “We shall be very lucky if Maddie doesn’t have a seizure over our expense report for this trip.”
Cassie smiled brightly so as not to give her hostess cause for concern. “Maybe we can slip some tranquilizers into her coffee before you show her the bill for the crown.”
Small talk continued until the two main participants had chatted for a suitable interval. After that, Elle rose signaling the visit was over.
The matriarch escorted them to the door, bowing with great ceremony and once more expressing her thanks.
The three climbed back into their hired car. The trip back to their hotel seemed much shorter than the outbound journey.
As they stood in the hallway in front of their rooms, Elle reached into her messenger bag and handed the artifact to Griffin. “Well, it’s been a slice. See you guys around.”
“Are you leaving?” the scrivener asked in surprise.
“I’m out of here on the first flight that will get me to New York. I did my part. You two are on your own.”
As Elle turned to go, Cassie called out, “We owe you a lot. Thanks for everything.”
“Absolutely,” Griffin concurred.
The sentinel wavered and then spun around to face them. Her typically fierce expression softened. “You helped me out too, so I guess we’re even.” Then, with a wry smile, she added, “I hope those bad guys with guns are terrible shots. I’d hate to see three thousand years of sentinel work go down the drain. You two watch your backs.” She gave a small wave, swiped her key card and was gone.
Chapter 32—Termination Benefits
Joshua Metcalf and Chopper Bowdeen waited in the darkened corridor outside Abraham Metcalf’s office. Both men were armed with pistols and silencers. It was nearly midnight. A light glowed through the crack at the bottom of the door, indicating that the diviner was still busy doing paperwork. With the exception of the guards at the front gates, the rest of the brotherhood and their families had retired for the night. No one disobeyed the ten-thirty curfew without express permission from the diviner.
Bowdeen glanced nervously at the surveillance camera suspended from a corner of the hallway ceiling.
Noting his gaze, Joshua whispered, “Don’t worry. I disabled it. The guards are watching looped footage of an empty corridor. I also disabled the cameras in my father’s office.” Warily, he added, “Are you clear on what needs to happen tonight?”
The mercenary nodded. “I’ll go in first and take the shot. You back me up in case anything goes wrong.”
The spymaster added, “You understand why, don’t you? I can’t be the one to kill my own father. If one of my brothers should ask, I couldn’t lie about a thing like that.”
Bowdeen placed a reassuring hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “I understand, son. You just make sure you get me out of here, OK?”
“Of cou
rse. I’ll sneak you out of the compound before I raise the cry that my father’s been murdered. I’ll have no difficulty shifting blame to one of the malefactors who were brought here for chastisement. Be assured, nobody will ever suspect it was you.”
“Sounds better than any other option I had going for me,” Chopper muttered ruefully. “I’ll be damn glad to be done with the Nephilim once and for all.”
“I give you my word,” Joshua said solemnly. “You’ll never have to see any of us again after tonight.”
The mercenary checked the magazine of his pistol. “Let’s do this.” He quietly turned the handle of the office door and stepped inside.
Joshua hung back in the shadows.
Abraham looked up from the documents he’d been inspecting. Narrowing his gaze when he recognized his visitor, he demanded, “What do you want?”
“My severance pay,” Bowdeen remarked coldly.
Abraham rose to his feet to face the intruder. The expression of disbelief on his face proved that he’d noticed the gun in the mercenary’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m making sure I don’t have to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.” Chopper shrugged. “Nothing personal.” He raised his pistol, aiming it at the old man’s chest.
Before he could fire, a dull thud sounded. Bowdeen grabbed his own chest and whirled around. “Joshua?” He gasped in disbelief before crumpling to the floor in a heap.
The spymaster emerged from the darkened corridor. Stepping over the mercenary’s lifeless body, he grabbed the diviner by the arm to steady him.
The old man listed to one side.
“Father, are you alright?”
“I... I...” Metcalf stuttered.
“Here, sit down.” Joshua helped him back into his chair.
The diviner rubbed his forehead, confused. “I don’t understand. Why did he try to shoot me?”
Joshua poured his father a glass of water from the carafe on the desk. “Please, drink this.”
Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2 Page 47