'Your head still hurt?' Paul asked.
She sat on the bed, the mattress firm, a down comforter soft and warm. 'A little.'
The image of a glistening knife strobed through her mind. Had Knoll actually meant the blade for her? Was she doing the right thing by not telling Paul? 'We need to call Pannik. Let him know what's happening and where we are. He's got to be wondering.'
Paul looked up from the newspaper. 'I agree. We'll do it tomorrow. Let's be sure if there's anything here first.'
She thought again of Christian Knoll. His self-assurance had intrigued her and stirred feelings long suppressed. She was forty years old and had loved only her father, a short romance in college she thought was the real thing, and Paul. She hadn't been a virgin when she and Paul married, but neither was she experienced. Paul had been a shy, retiring sort who easily found comfort within himself. He was certainly no Christian Knoll, but he was loyal, faithful, and honest. Why had that once seemed boring to her? Was it her own immaturity? Probably. Marla and Brent adored their fa-ther. And they were his number one priority. Hard to fault a man for loving his children and being faithful to his wife. So what happened? They grew apart? That was the easiest explanation. But had they really? Maybe stress took its toll. God knows they both stayed under pressure. Laziness, though, seemed the best explanation. Not wanting to simply work at what she knew to be right. She'd read a phrase once
'Paul, I appreciate your doing all this. More than you know.'
'I'd be lying if I said this wasn't fascinating. Besides, I might get a new client for the firm. Sounds like Wayland McKoy is going to need a lawyer.'
'I have a feeling all hell's going to break loose around here tomorrow, when those investors get here.'
Paul tossed the newspaper to the carpet. 'I think you're right. It could get interesting.' He then switched off the bedside light. The wallet from the underground chamber lay next to the lamp, her father's letters beside it.
She switched off the lamp on her side.
'This is really strange,' he said. 'Sleeping together for the first time in three years.'
She curled under the comforter on her side. She wore one of his long-sleeved twill shirts, full of the comforting scent she remembered from a decade of marriage. Paul turned on his side, his back facing her, seemingly making sure her space was hers. She decided to make a move and spooned closer. 'You're a good man, Paul Cutler.'
Her arm wrapped around him. She felt him tense and wondered if it was nerves or shock.
'You're not so bad yourself,' he said.
FORTY
Tuesday, May 20, 9:10 a.m.
Paul followed Rachel down the dank shaft to the chamber harboring the three trucks. He'd learned in the shed that McKoy had been underground since 7 A.M. Grumer had yet to appear at the site, which was nothing unusual according to the man on duty, since Grumer rarely appeared before midmorning.
They entered the lit chamber.
He took a moment and studied the three vehicles more closely. In yesterday's excitement there'd been no time for a detailed look. All the headlights, rearview mirrors, and windshields were whole. The barrel-shaped canvas beds were likewise relatively intact. Except for an icing of rust, the flattened tires, and moldy canvas, it was as though the vehicles could have been driven right out of their rocky garage.
Two of the cab doors were open. He glanced inside one. The leather seat was ripped and brittle from decay. The dials and gauges on the instrument panel were silent and still. Not a scrap of paper or anything tangible lay in sight. He found himself wondering where the trucks came from. Had they once transported German troops? Or Jews headed for the camps? Did they bear witness to the Russian advance on Berlin, or the Americans' simultaneous rush from the west? Strange, this surreal sight so deep inside a German mountain.
A shadow flared across the rock wall, revealing movement from the other side of the farthest vehicle.
'McKoy?' he called out.
'Over here.'
He and Rachel rounded the trucks. The big man turned to face them.
'These are without a doubt Bussing NAGs. Four-and-half-ton diesels. Twenty feet long. Seven and a half feet wide. Ten feet high.' McKoy moved close to a rusted side panel and banged it with his fist. Brownish-red snow fluttered to the sand below, but the metal held. 'Solid steel and iron. These things can carry almost seven tons. Slow as hell, though. No more than twenty, twenty-one miles per hour, tops.'
'What's the point?' Rachel asked.
'The point, Your Honor, is these damn things weren't used to haul a bunch of paintin's and vases. These were precious. Big haulers. For heavy loads. And the Germans sure didn't just dump 'em in a mine.'
'Meaning?' Rachel said.
'This whole thing doesn't make a damn bit of sense.' McKoy reached into his pocket and brought out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Paul. 'I need you to look at this.'
He unfolded the sheet and walked close to one of the light bars. It was a memorandum. He and Rachel read it in silence:
GERMAN EXCAVATIONS CORPORATION
6798 Moffat Boulevard
Raleigh, North Carolina 27615
To: Potential Partners
From: Wayland McKoy, CEO
Re: Own a Piece of History and Get a Free Vacation to Germany
German Excavations Corporation is pleased to be a sponsor and partner of the following program along with these contributing companies: Chrysler Motor Company (Jeep Division), Coleman, Eveready, Hewlett-Packard, IBM, Saturn Marine, Boston Electric Tool Company, and Olympus America, Inc.
In the waning days of World War II, a train left Berlin loaded with 1,200 art treasures. It reached the outskirts of the city of Magdeburg and was then diverted southward toward the Harz Mountains and was never seen again. We have an expedition now ready to locate and excavate that train.
Under German law, the rightful owners have ninety days to claim their artworks. Unclaimed works are then put up for auction with 50 percent of the proceeds going to the German government and fifty percent to the expedition and its sponsoring partners. An inventory list of the train can be provided on request. Minimum estimated value of the artwork, $360 million--with 50 percent going to the government. The partners' remaining sum of $180 million will be divided according to units purchased, less art claimed by original owners, less auction fees, taxes, etc.
All the partners' monies will be returned by funds of the presold media rights. All partners and spouses will be our guests in Germany for the expedition. Bottom line: We have found
the proper place. We have the contract. We have the research. We have the media sold. We have the experience and the equipment to effect excavation. German Excavations Corporation has a 45-day permit to dig. So far, the rights to 45 units at $25,000 per unit for the final stage of the expedition (Phase III) have been sold. We have about 10 units left at $15,000 per unit. Please feel free to call me if you're interested in this exciting investment.
Sincerely,
Wayland McKoy
President,
