"Impressive, isn't it?" Blatt said with cheery pride as I took in the room. "I've only been here a couple of weeks, but it's already feeling like home."
"Yeah, if home is a rat's nest. How do you find anything in this mess?" I asked, horrified anyone could find this cozy.
"Mess, ya say? I thought I had the old place cleaned up pretty well," he replied with a frown.
"Maybe I've been on boats too long. 'Everything has a place and everything in its place,' takes on a new meaning when your whole house pitches and rolls violently," I said, and then nodded towards the child. "Who's the kid?"
"Oh, Pancho? He's... my assistant. The wee lad took a shine to me when I first arrived in the village and has proved extremely helpful. He reads well, speaks English, and does not mind running my errands or doing the other mundane chores of life so I can work."
At the mention of his name the boy finally looked up, wide eyed at the appearance of another gringo in the house. He scrambled to his feet, obviously unsure if he should greet me or not. Blatt took care of the situation, speaking to the boy rapidly in Spanish. A moment later the boy hung his head and skulked past us and out the back door.
"What did you say to him?" I asked.
"I asked him to go buy some groceries while you and I talked business. The little devil would have rather stayed and listened. He'll get over it. Now, have a seat and I'll tell you about this idol you're searching for."
I removed a stack of books from a chair and pulled it up to the big table in the middle of the room. Miles did the same on the other end. As he sat down, I got the distinct impression he was about to give me a lecture. In fact, he looked like he would have been right at home in some dark college library in New England. All he needed was a tweed jacket to complete the look.
"What do you know about La Alma del Taino?" He asked.
"I'm sorry," I said, confused. "The what?"
Blatt's eyebrow cocked up, and his eyes narrowed. "Fer fuck's sake man," he swore, letting his Scottish accent fly, "It means the Soul of the Taino. Do you speak any Spanish?"
"I know enough to order a beer, that's about it," I replied. "Pruitt never called it by such a name. Truth be told, I know almost nothing about it," I admitted, "just the legend Pruitt told me. It was some idol the chiefs hid away from the Spanish. Right?" Blatt nodded, and I continued. "It was supposedly very sought after, but they never found it. Honestly, I don't even know what it looks like. Pruitt never sent me a picture."
Blatt sighed. "That doesn't surprise me. Adrian always did like to withhold information. He gave you the short version of its history," he said and leaned forward towards me. "The reality of it is much bloodier. The Taino people of course were unprepared for the Spanish explorers. They were no match for the advanced weapons and cavalry, but the actual killer was disease. As the population of the tribes dwindled, the chiefs realized they were doomed. They banded together to preserve something of their people and hid their most valued possession. The idol's single purpose is to keep the memory of the Taino people alive."
"La Alma del Taino." I said, allowing the gravity of the name to wash over me. "And you're OK with giving me information to find and remove such an important cultural piece?"
"As a historian and archaeologist, I would prefer that you leave the idol alone. Part of me is curious to examine it, of course, but I believe it should, at a minimum, be given to a museum, and preferably left alone. But General Bardales, the so-called minister of antiquities, would sell it to the highest bidder on the black market and pocket the money himself. There are probably other unscrupulous people searching for it as well. I know Adrian Pruitt. I've worked with him in the past. He's an utter ass, but he truly appreciates the past."
"And he funds most of your research, doesn't he?" I asked, seeing through the thin veil of praise.
"And yes, he funds most of my research," he conceded. "Losing one artifact to a private collector such as Pruitt is a small price to pay for the amount of knowledge the world has gained from the research he has funded."
"I don't know, I had a long time to think about this on the way here. It feels like I'm doing the wrong thing stealing such an important artifact."
"Think of it this way, Mr. Hawkins. Nobody has seen it for hundreds of years, it's not like it is going to be missed," Blatt said flatly.
I nodded my head. The man had a point. It was too late for an attack of conscience; I was here to do a job, and I would do it. "Alright, Doc, tell me what I need to know."
"Right," Blatt began. "La Alma del Taino has been a minor obsession of mine since I first heard rumors of it in my undergraduate studies. But its location has eluded me, and everyone else for that matter. The best I had been able to do was narrow down its hiding spot to south central Cuba, which as you know is an enormous area to search. I had all but given up on it, having exhausted my leads and moved on to other projects. Then, two weeks ago, Adrian Pruitt gives me the one clue I needed."
"Convenient," I muttered. "How did Pruitt's guy get the location? Do we know if it is genuine?"
"I can not speak for how the bloke cracked the location, but after digging through my research and using the new information, it looks genuine. I have
