Aleta glared at him. ‘So we just put the body out with the garbage, do we?’
‘Look, I know you’ve been through a hell of a lot, but, like I said, you’re going to have to trust me, because this isn’t over – not by a long shot. Sometimes, the simplest methods are the best. If we’re lucky, this bin will be picked up by a mechanical lever and emptied through the top of the truck. Unless someone actually sees the contents being tipped in, the body will be compacted with the rest of the garbage and may never be found. At worst, if the body’s discovered, the police will identify Sodano, conclude it’s drug-related and cross another young thug off their wanted list. They’re not going to come swarming around here, at least not initially, and if they do, we’re going to be well out of here.’
‘We?’
‘We. Because right now, whether you like it or not, you and I are in this together. If you put the coffee pot on, I’ll explain when I get back.’
O’Connor searched Sodano’s body. He left the wallet and Italian passport in Sodano’s jacket but removed the cell phone.
‘Why are you keeping his phone?’
‘SIM cards can be tracked. But if I drop it into a passing barge on the Donaukanal, who knows where it might finish up?’ O’Connor said with a grin. He picked up Sodano’s body in a fireman’s lift and dumped it headfirst into the wheelie bin. Sodano was stocky but he was short, and O’Connor managed to bend Sodano’s knees and push his legs into the bin. He closed the lid and pulled the bin but one wheel had fallen into a hole in the carpet and O’Connor had to yank the bin free.
‘‘I’m afraid there’s a bit of damage to the floor,’ he said, peeling back the carpet in front of the fireplace. The old floorboard had been dislodged and O’Connor pulled it clear. There, in the cavity between the floor joists, was a battered old tin trunk. It was nearly a metre long and about thirty centimetres wide.
Aleta, her animosity momentarily forgotten, helped O’Connor extract the trunk from its hiding place. Together they lifted it onto the carpet.
‘If this belonged to your grandfather, he wanted it well hidden,’ O’Connor observed, stepping back.
‘I think I know why,’ Aleta said, her fingers trembling as she pried open the latch. The lid creaked as she raised it to reveal an old yellowed notebook and two separate packages, each protected by red velvet cloth. Aleta unwrapped the first package to reveal an intricately carved jade sculpture, and she felt her heart skip a beat. ‘My God. The figurines!’ she gasped.
O’Connor watched her unwrap the second exquisite carving.
‘You’ve been looking for these?’
Aleta didn’t answer, turning the second figurine in her hands and examining it closely. She put the artefact down and looked O’Connor in the eye, her mind racing. Should she trust this man, as the shaman had suggested? He seemed to know who was out to kill her, and he had saved her life, but still she was wary. Very wary. ‘Give me one reason I should trust you,’ she challenged.
‘You shouldn’t trust anyone. At least, not until you get to know them, and maybe not even then.’
‘You say there are people out to silence me. How do you know that?’
‘Because I was sent here to kill you.’
‘What?’ Aleta recoiled in shock. ‘So why didn’t you?’
‘That’s a long story as well, but I’ll give you the short version.’
Aleta listened in stony silence as O’Connor gave her a potted history of the events that had led to his interception of Sodano, and the involvement of Wiley and Felici. ‘Look,’ he said finally. ‘We can spend the rest of the night arguing, or we can call a truce. I’m not asking you to like me, but you’ll have to trust me… at least until I get you out of here.’
Aleta stared at him frostily.
O’Connor reached underneath his jacket, withdrew the Glock he’d recovered from the bedroom and proffered it to her. ‘Take it.’
‘What for?’
‘Take it,’ O’Connor insisted. ‘I could have killed you at any time,’ he explained, handing Aleta the weapon. ‘I came to protect you,’ he emphasised, pushing the barrel to one side. ‘It’s loaded.’
Aleta looked at him quizzically.
‘And now you can kill me, or call the police, or both. Or we can call a truce and get the hell out of here.’
‘Tonight?’ She handed the weapon back to O’Connor.
He shook his head. ‘Tomorrow. First I’ve got to deal with Pretty Boy Floyd over there and we both need some sleep. Have you got a spare bedroom here? I’d ask you back to my hotel, but it’s only our first date.’
‘Don’t push your luck, Mister O’Connor.’
‘Have you ever heard of the Maya Codex?’ Aleta asked, plunging the coffee at the kitchen table.
‘I was at Monsignor Jennings’ lecture,’ O’Connor admitted.
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Aleta shook her head, her feelings of being watched and stalked returning. ‘Trying to pass yourself off as an archaeologist, no doubt.’
‘I did a couple of nights’ study, although it was a public lecture,’ he added sheepishly.
Aleta nodded. ‘Then you would have heard the question about the codex.’
‘And Jennings dismissing it as a figment of the media’s imagination. Is it?’
‘It exists.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Now it’s your turn to trust me.’
‘So you think these figurines will lead you to it?’ O’Connor asked after Aleta had given him a thumbnail sketch of her grandfather’s work, and Dr Arana’s warnings.
‘Well, I can’t be sure of that. In any case, I still need to find the third one. The ancient Maya went to great lengths to ensure the codex would remain hidden until the time was right for it to be recovered.’
‘And Jose Arana thinks that time may have arrived?’
Aleta nodded. ‘The discovery of these two figurines may not be an accident, and if you look at them closely, you’ll see that each one is in the shape of a tree, the Mayan tree of life. It’s a very powerful symbol that represents creation, which right now is under extraordinary threat. The male figurine has a male jaguar at the base, while the neutral one is in balance with both male and female cats. The third figurine will undoubtedly have a female jaguar – the lost feminine.’
‘The jaguar… one of the great cats of the Guatemalan jungle, and if I recall correctly, sacred to the ancient Maya.’
For the first time since O’Connor had burst into her apartment, Aleta allowed herself a smile. ‘So those two nights spent studying had some benefit?’
‘Not enough, unfortunately.’
‘Don’t feel too bad about it. My grandfather spent a lifetime studying the Maya, and he only scratched the surface. We think we are the most advanced civilisation in history, but we’ve yet to uncover the real history of the ancients. When we do, we will find that the Maya, like the Inca and the Egyptians, were all much more advanced than pompous historians like Jennings allow.’
‘You’re probably right,’ O’Connor agreed. ‘There is something in this codex that has both the Vatican and my government very worried. Both sides will do anything to get their hands on it, so that truce between you and I is going to have to last, at least until I help you find it.’
‘Why do you think the Vatican or the US government is after it? And why would you want to help me find it?’
‘I’m not sure, but I know they’re both determined to get to this codex before you do, and if they do, I suspect they will bury it from public view.’
‘What about the warnings?’
‘They’ll take a chance on them. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time the public has been kept in the dark.’
Aleta looked thoughtful. ‘I’m not sure what’s driving your government, but I think I know why the Vatican would be after it,’ she said finally. ‘The Vatican kept the Dead Sea Scrolls from public view for over thirty years because the contents threatened the uniqueness of Jesus’ message. The Maya Codex might be a much bigger threat than the Dead Sea Scrolls.’
