‘They’d have been a bit less cocky if dynamite had been invented back then. Who are the women?’
‘Goddesses. Shiva’s wives, I suppose.’
‘He had five wives? Thought he was a Hindu, not a Mormon.’
‘He didn’t have them all at the same time.’ Nina indicated two of the faces. ‘I don’t know off the top of my head who they all are, but these are Shakti, the goddess of feminine power, and Kali, goddess of death.’
‘Oh, I know who Kali is,’ said Eddie, grinning. ‘From
Nina winced. ‘Yes, but if you’re ever talking to a devout Hindu, please don’t say that! I was once talking to an Indian scholar about the portrayal of archaeology in the media and mentioned Indiana Jones, and he wasn’t happy. Kali’s not a goddess you’d want to get on the wrong side of, but she’s definitely not evil either, and he was kinda pissed that the first things a lot of Americans think of in regard to his religion are human sacrifice and chilled monkey brains.’ The phone rang.
It was Lola. ‘Dr Wilde? The Interpol officer you were expecting is here.’
‘Oh, good. Show him through, please.’
Lola entered, followed by a tall man in a pale blue suit. ‘Dr Wilde? This is Mr Jindal.’
‘Hi, come in,’ said Nina, standing to greet him. As she had expected from his surname, the international police agent was Indian; mid-thirties, with angular yet handsome features and black hair styled almost into a quiff. ‘I’m Nina Wilde; this is my husband, Eddie Chase.’
‘Ankit Jindal, Interpol senior investigator,’ said the new arrival, shaking their hands and giving them a beaming white smile. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Unlike that of the respectively robotic and uptight Pramesh and Vanita Khoil they had met two days earlier, his accent, while still distinctly Indian, was relaxed and warm.
‘I won’t mention Indiana Jones,’ Eddie whispered to Nina, who held in a faint grin.
Jindal looked at the artefact on Nina’s desk. ‘The Talonor Codex?’
‘That’s it,’ she said.
He nodded appreciatively. ‘I’m glad it survived unharmed. I can’t say that about all the treasures the Cultural Property Crime Unit recovers.’
‘So how can we help you, Mr Jindal?’
‘The first thing I wanted to do was give you some good news in person: we’ve identified the leader of the raiders. Urbano Luis Fernandez, Spanish, former member of the Grupo Especial de Operaciones - the Spanish police’s special operations unit.’
‘Pretty big career change,’ said Eddie.
‘It’s how he evaded capture for so long - he knows all the tricks. But we have him now, thanks to you.’
‘So what’s going to happen to the son of a bitch?’ Nina asked. An uncharacteristic hardness crossed her face. ‘He can fry as far as I’m concerned.’
‘He might. Although we don’t know where. A lot of diplomacy was needed to persuade the US government to turn him over to Interpol. He’s wanted in at least twelve countries, and they all want to put him on trial for the theft of their cultural treasures - and the murders of the people they killed taking them.’
‘I can imagine. Michelangelo’s David versus the terracotta warriors? The Italians and Chinese must be practically at daggers drawn over who gets their hands on him first, for a start.’
‘More than that. This has to remain classified,’ Jindal said, giving them both warning looks, ‘but there have been other robberies that haven’t been revealed to the public - either because it would be politically embarrassing, or because it could actually be dangerous. One of the stolen items is the Black Stone from Mecca. The Saudis have replaced it with a replica, but if that is discovered there’ll be chaos.’
‘You’re not kidding,’ said Nina, shocked.
‘The what?’ Eddie asked.
‘The Black Stone was supposedly put in place in the Kaaba Temple by Muhammad himself,’ she explained. ‘It’s a key part of the hajj, the Islamic pilgrimage - if it’s revealed as a fake, the entire country will explode.’
‘Just what we need in the Middle East right now.’
‘Which is why we’re trying as hard as we can to get Fernandez to name his employer, so all the stolen treasures can be found and returned,’ said Jindal. ‘But he’s not talking. Which is another reason I wanted to see you - you might be able to help us. More specifically, Mr Chase might.’
‘Me?’ said Eddie. ‘How?’
Jindal took documents from his briefcase and laid them on Nina’s desk. Each had a photograph attached. ‘These are three of the raiders who were killed in San Francisco. They’re all different nationalities: Nicaraguan, Ukrainian, Portuguese. But what they have in common is that they are all known mercenaries.’
‘Mercenaries, eh?’ Eddie took a closer look at the photos, but didn’t recognise any of the faces. He glanced sidelong at Jindal. ‘Been reading up on me, have you?’
The Indian smiled. ‘I hope you’re not offended.’
‘Nah, it’s just that it’s been a while since I was in that line of work. And I never really thought of myself as a merc. More like a troubleshooter.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Nina. ‘You see trouble, you shoot it.’
‘Hey, you weren’t complaining at the time! So, who are these guys?’
Jindal tapped on each picture in turn. ‘Ramon Maltez Espinosa; Gennadi Sklar—’
‘Sklar?’ Eddie interrupted.
‘You know him?’
‘Never met him, but I know the name. Worked in Africa, mostly . . . Harare, that’s where I heard about him.’
‘You were in Zimbabwe?’ Nina asked. However much she thought she knew about her husband’s past travels, he still always had the ability to surprise her.
‘About six years ago,’ Eddie told her. ‘Don’t plan on going back - I’m not popular there. But this bloke Sklar, that’s where I know his name from.’
‘Small world.’
‘You get to know most of the people in the business after a while. The professionals, at least - the ones who’re good enough not to get killed.’ He turned to Jindal. ‘This Fernandez, for jobs like the ones he’s been pulling, he’d be after the absolute best people he could get. And there’s not that many middlemen he could go through to find ’em.’
‘I doubt they’d be willing to talk to Interpol, though,’ said Jindal.
‘Maybe not, but they might talk to me. Somebody’ll know something - maybe even who’s paying Fernandez. And I wouldn’t even need to go to them - just thinking that I
Jindal considered it. ‘We’ve been trying to work out a deal, but so far he’s refused everything. Perhaps a stick to go with the carrot might encourage him to talk . . .’ Another moment of thought. ‘Would you be willing to fly back to Lyon with me? Not just for this - your first-hand account of events, and any help you could give us concerning Fernandez’s mercenary connections, would be very useful. But if we can’t persuade him to accept a deal, then perhaps a threat would be more effective. Not a physical threat,’ he hurriedly added.
Eddie grinned. ‘Never crossed my mind. But I’m up for it.’ He turned to Nina. ‘That’s if you’re okay with it. If you don’t want to be on your own . . .’
She took a moment to reply. ‘I’ll be okay. Especially if your going helps nail this bastard.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive,’ she insisted. ‘If it leads to catching whoever’s behind this, I’m all for it.’
‘Excellent,’ said Jindal, nodding. ‘I’ll arrange the flight.’ He looked at the ancient volume again. ‘As for the Codex itself . . . have you found any reason why whoever was paying Fernandez wanted him to steal it?’
‘I think I might have,’ said Nina. She explained her deduction about the link between the Atlantean god Poseidon and the Hindu god Shiva, opening the Codex to the pages that had been on display to illustrate her point. ‘If this Vault of Shiva still exists, then its contents would be an incredible archaeological find.’
‘Big enough to kill for?’ Eddie asked.
Jindal looked thoughtfully at the ancient words. ‘The Vedic Sanskrit text, the Indian connection, was one of the reasons why I pushed to get this assignment. There is a big black market for ancient Hindu artefacts - and yes, people are willing to kill for them, unfortunately. But this would be on a much larger scale than anything I’ve dealt
