out on the Midas treasure altogether.
“Kill them only as a last resort. Capture them if you can. But do not let them get away, no matter who has to die to prevent it.”
“Understood.”
Cavano paced as she tried to think like her adversary. “Orr is looking for some other way to the gold. I’m sure the tablet and Locke’s device have something to do with his search, but I don’t know what.”
“What about the British Museum?” Sal said. “When I was following Westfield, he talked to Lumley for a long time.”
“When I called Lumley back, he told me that he couldn’t decipher what the codex meant.”
“Maybe the device has something to do with the codex and that’s why Locke took it back from us.”
That stopped Cavano. Maybe Sal wasn’t as dumb as she thought.
She felt her blood pressure rising again. Lumley had withheld information from her. She retrieved her phone and dialed the archaeologist’s cell.
“Hello,” he said tentatively.
“It’s me. Don’t lie to me this time. Tell me what you told Westfield.”
“I didn’t lie. I really couldn’t help him-”
She didn’t have time for this. “If you don’t tell me what you know, I will strap you to a table and make you watch as I pull out your entrails one by one.”
Lumley gulped audibly. “All… all right. Of course. Mr. Westfield was particularly interested in two statues of the Parthenon’s west pediment-Herakles and Aphrodite.”
“Why?”
“The codex referenced those two figures as a key to some kind of puzzle, but I don’t know what.”
“Have they come back to the museum?”
“Oh, no. I don’t think they would.”
“You mean they solved the puzzle?”
“I don’t know. The codex implied that one would have to be at the Parthenon in person to understand what it meant.”
At the Parthenon. “ Grazie, Doctor.”
“Am I free now?”
“No. I may call again at any time, and if you don’t answer, I will take that as a sign of disrespect. Do you understand?”
Lumley wheezed into the phone. “Absolutely.”
She hung up.
With a day’s head start, it was possible she was already too late to get Locke, Benedict, and Westfield, but it was the only lead she had.
“Get Adamo and Dario,” she said to Sal. “Since they were at the museum, they’ll recognize Grant Westfield. Send them to Athens tonight. I think Locke and his friends may be there already.”
“Should I go with them?”
“No, I want you here in Naples. If they slip through, they’ll come here next.”
“What should Adamo and Dario do in Athens?”
“Find photos of Locke and Benedict to give them. I want them at the Parthenon from opening to closing.”
“And if they find all three of them?”
Getting them all back to Italy would be difficult. The best bet would be to charter a boat.
Cavano could already feel her heartbeat ease and her muscles relax. For the first time in twenty-four hours, she felt back in control.
“We don’t need all three,” she said. “Capture Locke. Kill Benedict and Westfield.”
FORTY-TWO
I t was 2:45 in the afternoon, and with the 3:00 closing time fast approaching, the visitors at the National Archaeological Museum were beginning to wander back toward the entrance. Using the tickets Grant had bought earlier in the day, Tyler and Stacy had entered the museum separately.
Tyler had put on a collared shirt and jeans for the operation, with the backpack slung over his shoulder. His earpiece was in and connected to his cell phone’s open line to Grant, who was with their motorcycles next to the emergency exit.
“You ready out there?” Tyler said.
“A little crowd at the bus stop, but otherwise we’re good to go.”
“Give me a shout if something wicked comes that way.”
“Will do.”
Tyler wore the new black cap on the off chance that his Mariners cap would be connected to the Munich garage incident. He pulled the bill down and made sure to keep it between his face and the cameras in each room as he followed Grant’s directions to the room with the Antikythera Mechanism. Having studied the photos thoroughly, Tyler knew exactly what to expect, but seeing it in person for the first time he was still amazed at how much the replica sitting behind the glass looked like the geolabe he’d built. Other than the single knob on the side of the Antikythera Mechanism, as opposed to the dual knobs on the geolabe, they were virtually identical.
The attendants from this room and the one with the emergency exit were chatting, paying no attention to Tyler. No other tourists were around, giving him the chance he needed.
He positioned himself directly beneath the working camera next to a display case that had a small space between it and the wall. Tyler knelt as if to tie his shoe, plopping the backpack next to him. With a smooth motion, he removed the smoke grenade from the pack and rested it behind the display case. Unless someone was looking for it, it wouldn’t be seen.
He stood back up and pretended to spend a few more minutes reading the captions on the Antikythera Mechanism. A walk around the case holding the replica showed him the keyhole that would unlock the front glass.
He strolled back out the way he’d come, just another visitor browsing relics from Greece’s ancient past. He really did wish he had more time to inspect the fragments of the Antikythera Mechanism. It was incredible that he’d been looking at a device more sophisticated than any other created for fifteen hundred years.
They’d planned to set things in motion in the gallery containing tombstone sculptures, about a hundred feet from the room with the Mechanism. When he turned into the hall, he saw Stacy peering intently at the statue of a robed man carrying a bowl into which offerings would be placed.
She made a slow 180-degree turn, and Tyler nodded as her eyes passed over him. It was a go.
Grant had noted the locations of all the fire alarms, and Stacy found one near a group of elderly tourists listening to a guide speaking English. She pulled it discreetly as she walked by. A Klaxon began to blare.
The sound came from horns in the ceiling, so no one turned to where Stacy had just been standing. She looked as confused as the rest of the patrons.
Attendants began to appear from both ends of the hall. Fire was a major threat to the artwork, but the sprinklers were not set to come on automatically for fear of damaging the statues unnecessarily.
Tyler gripped the unfolded Leatherman in his pocket, waiting for his cue.
Within seconds, a guard appeared. He was speaking loudly into his walkie-talkie and headed directly for the alarm pull. He stopped in front of it and swung around, looking for any hint of a fire.
The tour group was watching the guard, not moving toward the exit as Tyler had hoped. He sidled up to one of the group members, a gentleman who looked to be in his eighties.
“Did you hear that?” Tyler said.
“Hear what?” the man said.
Tyler pointed at the guard. “I think that guy said there was a fire in the back of the museum.”
That seemed to be confirmation enough for them, and the tour group began shuffling toward the front
