Empire of Gold

and honourable.’ He looked down at the floor, shaking his head.

Someone tentatively cleared their throat. Kit turned to see one of the villa’s staff, a pretty young maid, standing in the doorway holding a cordless telephone. ‘Excuse, please, Mr Jindal?’ she said. ‘Telephone for you.’

Kit glanced at Eddie, then went to her and took the phone. ‘Hello?’

‘Jindal.’ It was Stikes. ‘Have you discussed my proposal with your superiors?’

He took a breath before answering. ‘Yes.’

‘And?’

Another look at Eddie, this time surreptitious, to make sure he wasn’t listening. But he appeared completely detached from the rest of the world. ‘Yes, they agree.’

‘Good. And did you tell them I want to meet one of their representatives in person? Not an errand boy like you.’

‘I did,’ Kit said through his teeth. ‘Someone is on the way.’

‘Excellent. In that case, there’s a town called San Bartolo, twenty miles south of Lima on the Panamerica Highway. About two miles past it is a pumping station for the gas pipeline, number fourteen. Meet me there in one hour.’

‘San Bartolo, station fourteen,’ Kit echoed. ‘All right, I’ll be there.’ He returned the handset to the maid. ‘Eddie, I have to meet some people from Interpol. I think we might have a lead on the statues. Will you be all right?’

The Englishman remained still, not even moving his eyes to look at him. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Okay. I’ll see you later.’ He turned to leave, then paused at the doorway. ‘Again, I’m so sorry about Mac. I’m sorry.’

Eddie didn’t reply.

Freshly showered and in clean clothes, Nina left her room and went downstairs to look for Eddie. Instead, she found Kit in the villa’s hall, donning a jacket. ‘Are you leaving?’ she asked.

‘I have to meet someone.’

‘Interpol?’

A conflicted look crossed his face. ‘Not exactly,’ he replied after a moment. ‘Look, don’t say anything to Eddie, but . . . it’s about Stikes. He’s offered to hand over the statues.’

‘What? You’re kidding!’

‘No, I think he really means it. He wants to make a deal – in exchange for immunity.’

Nina frowned. ‘I don’t think the Venezuelans will be thrilled about that.’

‘I’m not happy about it either. But nothing has been finalised. I’m on my way to meet . . . his representative, to see what his terms are. If Interpol accepts them, he’ll give us the statues.’

Nina was torn by the prospect. ‘As much as I want them back, I don’t like the idea of that son of a bitch getting an amnesty. But . . . ’

‘If there is a chance we can recover the statues, I think we should take it. At least that way, the people who died trying to find them won’t have given their lives for nothing.’

‘People like Mac,’ she said unhappily. ‘Is that why you don’t want to mention this to Eddie?’

‘Yes. I was talking to him a few minutes ago, and he got angry just at the mention of Stikes’s name. If he found out we were negotiating with him, I think his reaction would be a lot stronger.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’ She looked down the hall. ‘Is he in the lounge?’ Kit nodded. ‘Let me know what happens. And good luck.’

‘Thank you.’ Kit departed, and Nina headed for the lounge.

She found Eddie still in the same chair where she had left him, contemplating the sunset. ‘Hey,’ she said, perching on the chair’s arm and gently resting her hand on his chest. ‘You okay?’

This time, at least he didn’t pull away from her touch, but neither did he respond to it. ‘I know what you’re feeling right now,’ she continued. ‘I’ve been there; I’ve lost people who were close to me. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, and I always will be. Whatever you need, just ask me.’

He stirred, jaw muscles tightening. ‘I didn’t lose Mac,’ he said in a low voice. ‘He was taken.’

‘I know. And I know what that’s like too. It happened to Rowan, remember?’

‘It’s not the same. It’s—’ He stumbled, struggling to put his thoughts into words. ‘Mac was different. You don’t know what it was like, what he meant to me.’

‘He was my friend too, Eddie. I’m going to miss him just as much.’

Now there was a distinct edge to his voice. ‘No, you won’t. Mac wasn’t just a friend. I would’ve—’ He choked off, taking a sharp breath. ‘I would have died for him. That’s what he meant to me. And he would’ve done the same for me. You wouldn’t understand.’

Nina tried to suppress a flare of anger. ‘I do understand. And I do know what it feels like. My parents were murdered, remember?’ She experienced a sudden resurgence of loss, rising on the back of her current feelings. ‘I know. Believe me, I know.’

They both fell silent. For a couple of minutes, the only sound was their breathing. Then: ‘Excuse, please?’