Tuscan Hoax: An Archaeological Thriller (A Darwin Lacroix Adventure Book 4), page 21
“How about a nightcap?” asked Emilio. “Help you relax.”
“I’ll get it,” said Darwin. “I have something in mind.”
Emelio raised his eyebrows and, as Darwin disappeared into the cellar, nodded toward the sitting room.
“Thanks,” Eyrún said. He squeezed her hand.
She fell into her favorite chair, whose angle seemed to create an anti-gravity field with just the right combination of softness and support.
“That was my wife’s favorite chair,” Emelio said.
She knew. He had told her at least half a dozen times. He won’t be with us forever. A brief shroud of sadness dampened her mood.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he said. “Darwin told me about the kidnappings before you drove over.”
As Eyrún was bringing Emilio up to speed on the last few days, Darwin returned from the cellar with a half bottle and three small glasses. He pulled its cork while Eyrún described finding the organogram and key in the broken bust.
“What’s this?” Emelio asked, taking a glass from Darwin.
“Something I remember seeing in the cellar. It’s a Passito di Pantelleria. This one’s from the Donnafugata winery. I had forgotten about it until Emelio mentioned nightcaps. It’s the Zibibbo grape from the Muscat family and originally from Alexandria. They grow it across the Mediterranean, but mainly in the Sicilian islands. Santé.” He clinked glasses, moving between Eyrún and Emelio before taking a seat.
Six hours ago, Eyrún had a vague knowledge of Pantelleria, and now she was staring into a glass of amber liquid that had come from the volcanic speck off the Tunisian coast. She sampled the nectar. Intense, aromatic fruits, as if candied and drizzled over citrus, flooded her palate. But it was smooth, fresh, not overly sweet. She drank again, letting the wine slide down her tongue and catch every taste bud until a reflexive swallow carried it down her throat, where the alcohol warmed her insides. Between the hug, the chair, and the wine, she wanted to suspend time.
But reality pulled back hard as Emelio said, “I’ve been to Pantelleria. My search for lava tubes took me there before you were born, Darwin.”
She sat up. “Would you recognize a place on the island?”
“I don’t know. It’s been so long.”
Darwin dug the photo from his tablet’s case and handed it to him as Eyrún explained what they knew about it.
“It doesn’t look familiar, but, if I remember correctly, there’s a ridge that runs along the island’s northeast from a massive ancient caldera. This cliff face,” Emelio said, tapping the photo, “could be that part of the island.”
Eyrún finished her glass. “I need to wash my face. Get ready for bed.” She stood, said goodnight, and then headed for the stairs.
“I’ll be up in a minute,” said Darwin. She paused on the first step when she heard him say to Emelio, “Thanks, Grand-père. She loves you.”
“You know, she’s the best discovery you’ve ever made.”
“I know.”
She floated up the steps, knowing she was exactly where she wanted to be.
68
Once dinner was cleared away, Jasmin followed her father to the aft deck, where he had a cigar. As the smoke drifted in the moonlit wake, she asked, “What did you want to talk about?” The yacht cruised into the swells on just enough power to counter the sea’s motion.
“Eyrún messaged me a little while ago. Said they don’t know how to work on the woman’s computer system. I told her she needed to do better than that.” He paused to draw on the cigar, and then he huffed out a smoke ring that lived briefly before being swept away. He smiled as if pleased with the effort. “What’s your opinion?”
Jasmin knew there was more. The man loved toying with people; she had been an object of it herself before becoming a student of his manipulations. “I saw you laughing while you texted. What else did you tell her?”
“That she, being a famous volcanologist, should be able to do much better and to text us back in the morning with an answer.”
“Did she say anything else?” Jasmin knew Eyrún to be serious and, while a savvy negotiator, not likely to bluff when people’s lives were in the balance.
“Something about igneous rock in the eastern Med and an algorithm. Maybe she doesn’t know more, but I want to push her. Let’s find out what she has to say when the twenty-four hours are up.”
Jasmin looked over the side at the black water flowing along the white hull and she turned from the railing. “I watched Lupita set up the algorithm to search using the photo. She typed a lot in some unintelligible code. It’s plausible that only she knows how to do it.”
“They must have someone else.”
“Yes, and he’s in the cabin below, next to Lupita.”
“That’s a problem. What if we let one of them go? Tell them they have to find the location or the other one goes for a swim.”
“Which one?”
“Let’s decide tomorrow.”
Eyrún awoke as the sky lightened, and she lay quietly in bed, watching the last of the stars twinkle out. Darwin breathed softly beside her. The wide double-casement windows had been opened all night, and the morning air carried the fragrance from the neighbor’s rose garden. Emelio’s friend Mateo, a regular champion in the annual Ajaccio competition, grew several dozen varieties in the wide space between their homes. She rolled her feet to the floor, grabbed a throw blanket from off a chair, and wrapped it around her shoulders as she walked to the window.
The light pouring in over the mountains had chased the darkness to ground level. Science ruled her world, but she could see the appeal of believing in sun gods and underworlds. It lent a magical mystery to life that data-driven explanations left dry and mechanical. In the growing dawn, the paler roses emerged first, tinged with purple and yellow. She inhaled the perfumed air, teasing her senses, and stretched the moment as long as she could to hold away the day’s impending decisions.
Upon waking, it had been clear to her that honesty was the best course of action. This isn’t a game. Our friends’ lives are at stake. She would tell Thierry about Pantelleria, but she could not narrow it further. Emelio’s comment about the ridge helped, but if she told them, Thierry might do something rash, like cut off communication and search the ridge himself.
She decided to get Lupita and Zac involved. She was not sure how, but her navigational studies of her yacht, Hypatia, had taught her that modern vessels teemed with sensors that left a trail like digital bread crumbs. And so does Thierry’s sat phone. She smiled wryly. Behind her, the sheets rustled.
“Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Surprisingly, yes. What about you?”
“Not bad at first, but I woke a while around three. Hope I didn’t disturb you.”
He stood and joined her at the window. Sliding his arms around her, he rested his chin on her shoulder as they looked at the roses. “I don’t know how Mateo does it, producing such magical blooms year after year.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“So are you.” He kissed her neck. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, thinking of his and Emelio’s comments last night as she had paused on the stairs. His hands lowered to her hips.
“Not now,” she said, gently covering his hands with hers. Their fingers intertwined, and they stood for a few moments longer in the calm. The darker roses morphed into red as the sunlight crested the mountain and fanned out across Ajaccio.
They showered after a quick run along the harbor to the citadel and back. As Darwin got dressed, his stomach growled loudly at the rich aromas drifting through the house. He headed downstairs and found Emelio in the kitchen, chopping herbs.
“Bonghjornu,” he said.
“Bonghjornu! It’s another beautiful day,” said Emelio. “I know you two need to find your friends, but you’ll need energy.” He waved the knife at chestnut polenta as he sliced sausage into a pan.
Fresh croissants wrapped in thin paper lay on another cutting board next to a jar of Mateo’s rose jam. Darwin’s palate leaped, teased by a riot of yeast, figatellu, and hot butter. He tore a piece from one croissant, spooned on a bit of jam, and popped it into his mouth.
Eyrún walked in with a towel across her shoulders to protect her top from her damp hair. “Bonghjornu, Emelio. You’re a godsend. I’m starved.”
He said good morning, adding that she was a feast for the eyes as he cracked the eggs into the pan. Minutes later, they were sitting in the breakfast nook, Darwin eating like a wolfhound, when Emelio asked, “What have you decided?”
“We tell them we think it’s Pantelleria based on the lava’s signature, but it could be another island” said Eyrún. “We don’t disclose what Darwin deduced about Kossyra. And we say that Lupita’s algorithm will narrow it down but we do not know how to operate it.”
“That’s good,” said Emelio.
“We ask them to release either Lupita or Zac to come back and modify the program.”
“Which one?” Emelio looked back and forth between Darwin and Eyrún.
“Ideally, Lupita, as it’s her code,” said Darwin. “They’ll have to come into a port. If we can get them to Corsica, the OCBC guy, Paul, can seize the vessel.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“Thierry wants the Albanian Master. I think Jasmin’s smart enough to figure out hurting Lupita or Zac buys them nothing.”
They worked the idea over the remains of breakfast then headed to the ACA. Eyrún messaged Barry that they would arrive about seven thirty, giving them three hours before the twenty-four-hour deadline.
As Eyrún, Darwin, and Barry sat at the small table in her office, she stared at her mobile, willing it to respond. “Why doesn’t he answer?” She had messaged Thierry just after eight o’clock. “I hate waiting,”
“Don’t we all,” said Barry.
Moments later, her mobile chimed.
Thierry: A better answer. But maybe Pantelleria? Why “maybe”?
“Good. He’s grabbed the bait,” Darwin said as Eyrún tapped a reply:
The bust is made from a pantelleritic rhyolite found in the Sicilian island chain. Can’t be certain which island, but Pantelleria is far enough off the grid and still accessible.
When Thierry did not respond after a reasonable wait, she added:
Lupita’s program can narrow down which island, but only she knows how to run it. Let her come back here. When she finds the Albanian Master, release Zac.
“Let’s see how that flies,” she said. Seconds later, her iPhone rang. She punched the green button. “Thierry?”
“Eyrún, it’s Lupita.” Her voice was shaking.
“Lupita. Oh, my God. I’m so sorry this happened to you. Are you okay?” Eyrún asked.
“Yes. They are not mistreating me, but I am standing on the back of the boat. They said they would push me in the water if you did not help—”
Lupita screamed.
“Lupita?” Eyrún yelled. “Lupita?”
Jasmin’s voice came from the speaker. “She’s still here, but I’ve moved away from her. The less she knows, the better, and we want you to know who’s in control.”
“Where’s Zac?” asked Darwin.
“Darwin? Good, you’re there. Zac’s fine.”
“He cares about you, Jasmin.”
“That’s sweet.”
Eyrún wrote on a sheet of paper between them:
ask about Lupita
Darwin read it and said, “We can help you find the location in the photo, but we’re not lying. We really can't do it.” He paused a few beats and then added, “Only Lupita knows the algorithm. Let her come back here to tweak it. Keep Zac as a hostage.”
“That’s so nice of you to offer your friend’s life, but we need to discuss it. Right now, Zac thinks Thierry has kidnapped the both of us.”
Eyrún leaned in and was about to say something when Jasmin’s voice came back at them.
“Zac will figure out his situation soon enough, and his military training will make him a difficult hostage. However, we might be willing to trade Lupita for someone.”
Darwin tapped the mute button as he looked at his wife.
Eyrún’s stomach churned at the memory of her captivity in Egypt. A tingle surged down her neck and arms as she remembered awakening in alien surroundings, ignorant of her captor’s language. She shuddered but refocused on Lupita. This is my doing. I convinced Lupita to move to Ajaccio. I hired Jasmin and signed for the vases. I need to fix this.
She inhaled, steeling herself to volunteer, but then Barry suddenly said, “I’ll go. Lupita’s like a daughter. Zoe and I sponsored her into the EU.”
“Barry, you can’t. It should be Darwin or me—“
But he unmuted the call. “Jasmin, it’s Barry. I’ll trade with Lupita.”
69
Jasmin stopped Thierry on the swim deck steps after the call. “Wait,” she said. “You made your point with her. Let me talk with her over breakfast. Alone. We need her skills.”
“What about my breakfast?”
“Have it anywhere you want. I’ll keep her here a while, and you can talk to Zac. Get a sense of what he knows about Lupita’s program.”
“Good idea, darling. We’ll compare notes later,” he said and turned to a crew member to request that a light breakfast be brought to his study.
Jasmin continued to the breakfast table on the aft sun deck, where Lupita was eating in silence. While filling her teacup, she tried to gauge the other woman’s mood. Is she in shock? No. She’s eating. But she’s scared and doesn’t know what’s going on. Jasmin knew well the feelings of having one’s sense of familiarity and stability torn away and not knowing what would happen. She decided to talk to Lupita as one victim to another. “I’m truly sorry this happened to you. I had no idea my ex would do this.”
Lupita stared at her plate, so Jasmin added, “If you help us, I’ll get you out of here unharmed.”
“What do you want?”
“I need to find the place in the photo. Eyrún has narrowed down the search to an island off the Sicilian coast, but they can’t update the algorithm and need your help.”
“Well, I cannot do that from here, can I?”
Jasmin smiled. “No, of course not. I suggested to Darwin that you tell him what to do, but he pointed out that only you could do it, or maybe Zac.”
“Zac doesn’t know the algorithm.”
“Could you explain it to him?”
“No, I coded it in Python. He does not know it.”
“I thought it was something like that.” Jasmin reached for a croissant, adding, “I told Thierry it was stupid to kidnap you.”
As Lupita huffed and looked out to sea, Jasmin chewed and refilled her cup from a small silver pot. After a mouthful to clear her palate, she said, “They need you back in Ajaccio. Barry offered himself as a hostage in trade.”
Lupita’s eyes snapped back to Jasmin’s, who continued. “Now comes the tricky part. We need to swap you two without the authorities getting involved. I don’t trust Darwin and Eyrún not to try something, so we need you to convince them to cooperate.”
“How do I do that?” asked Lupita.
“Simple, really. We have Zac as a hostage.”
Lupita froze.
“He followed me to the yacht in Bonifacio. I told him not to, but he insisted, and Thierry locked him in a cabin below.”
When Lupita said nothing, Jasmin went on. “I need you to convince Eyrún and Darwin to leave the police out of this when we exchange you with Barry. You go back to your system in Ajaccio and find the location in the photo. Then we let Zac and Barry go—unharmed. If not…”
“There is no need to threaten my friends. I was helping you before.”
“I know, Lupita. I know. I told Thierry that, but he…” Jasmin paused, looked around, and then leaned in. “Please help me, and I’ll get you all out of this. I promise.”
As Lupita was led back to her cabin, Jasmin began plotting her trade with Barry. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered her most immediate problems. Zac will figure me out soon enough and try to break out. She had seen the yacht’s thin walls during remodeling. We’ll need to double the guards on his section.
Her other problem was Thierry. He’s becoming irrational. His ego’s getting more and more in the way. She groaned at his ludicrous partnership with the Marseille art gang.
70
Zac stood at the second knock on his cabin door. Earlier, they had brought breakfast, one thug with a gun forced him to sit on the bed as the other left a food tray on the desk.
“Housekeeping this time?” asked Zac.
The same thug waved him back to the bed and moved against the wall as Thierry entered, followed by another thug, who blocked the door.
“Good odds. Three against one. But you’ll have guessed my first move is to take out the gun.”
“Sit down, Zac,” said Thierry. “Jasmin told me about your constant joking, but if you want to get yourself killed, go ahead. One less complication. We only need Lupita.”
“What?” Zac tried to project calm, but his mind raced. Lupita’s here? Why? One leg reflexively stepped backward and hit the mattress.
“Yes.” Thierry smirked. “She’s in the next cabin. We kidnapped her the morning you and Jasmin left Ajaccio. You see, Eyrún and Darwin stopped cooperating, and we needed more leverage, but we seem to have made a minor miscalculation in thinking Jasmin could get away from you.”
Zac sat on the mattress like a deflated balloon, his heart racing at the image of Lupita being seized against her will. He had seen the panic in too many hostage situations. She doesn’t deserve to be caught up in this. He shifted topics. “What have you done with Jasmin?”
