The Florentine Deception Page 19

  “Dude, you’ve got to relax. Khalimmy’s probably in Beirut by now. And you’ve got no evidence that the Russians are after you.”

  “Wishful thinking,” I said, spinning the antique coin in my fingers and appreciating its heft.

  “Alex, just take a second and relax. Do you realize we’ve just found millions in antiquities? Millions. You should be ecstatic. You’ve got to trust me, you’re overreacting.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said, setting the coin back on its matting. “But—”

  “Well, if you’re still worried, just give the drives to the FBI and be done with it.”

  “And what? Ask them to go prospecting for the cave and send a crack team of government spelunkers in to hunt for the Florentine? They’ll throw me in a psychiatric ward and shit-can the drives in the X-Files cabinet.” I huffed. “And even if we did give the video to the feds, it does nothing to get Khalimmy or the Russian off my back. So when one of them is threatening to yank my eyeball out with a corkscrew, how exactly am I going to convince him I don’t have the Florentine Controller anymore? Whatever it is.”

  Steven leaned against the wall by the weapons display and shook his head.

  “Based on that line of reasoning, you’ve got two options,” he said, “you either live in constant fear for the foreseeable future, or you track down the Florentine and execute our original plan. Find the thing and hand it over to the feds or to 60 Minutes or something. Once it makes primetime TV, you’ll be the last thing on Khalimmy’s and the Russian’s minds. Assuming you want to live a normal life, what other choice do you have?”

  “Easy for you to say,” I growled. “But, until we figure out where that cave is, the whole thing is moot.”

  Steven grunted.

  A small red LED began flashing on the wall above the Van Gogh.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Steven.

  I stared at the light, bewildered. “A silent alarm? Maybe to alert Richard Lister if someone enters the house?”

  The light stopped flashing.

  “We’d better check what’s going on upstairs.” I grabbed the Ruger from the desk and shoved it in my pocket, then pointed to the weapons display next to Steven. “Grab that sword. We’re not taking any chances.”

  “It’s a doorbell,” I said as I heard the knock at the front door. “The light’s a silent doorbell.”

  I stepped through the secret bookshelf opening, descended the stairs, and soundlessly padded up to the front door for a look. Linda waved cheerily from behind the keyhole.

  “Linda’s here.” I flipped the deadbolt and swung the door open. Linda stood in the doorway in a denim jacket, pink t-shirt and faded blue jeans, an apologetic smile on her face.

  “Sorry I’m so late,” she said, hugging me, “there was a nasty smashup on Wilshire and it was chaos in the ER.” She stepped through the door.

  “What’s with the samurai sword?” she asked Steven with a wink. “You guys reenacting Pirates of the Caribbean or something?”

  Steven blushed.

  “If only,” I said. “It’s a long story. But before I explain, let me introduce my good friend, Steven.”

  Steven stared glassy-eyed at Linda. I couldn’t blame him. With her slightly tousled damp hair, denim jacket, and teal sandals, she was stunning in her own totally casual sort of way.

  “Holmes, this is Linda, my climbing buddy.” My stunning, totally platonic, out-of-my-league climbing buddy.

  “Nice … Nice to meet you,” said Steven. “It’s good to finally to put a face to your name. Alex’s been talking about you for years.”

  “Funny, Alex never mentioned you before.” Linda grinned, then said, “I’m just kidding, Steven. It’s great to finally meet you, too.” She stepped up and extended her hand while I shut and bolted the front door. “Alex—this place is unbelievable,” she said, scanning the entryway.

  “Thanks,” I said sheepishly. “Anyway, come on in.”

  Linda kicked her sandals off next to the front door and followed us in bare feet down the hall.

  “So did the lip-code work?” she asked. “Did you find the diamond?”

  “Yes and no,” I said.

  She looked puzzled.

  “Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

  “I’m dumbstruck,” she said, walking from cabinet to cabinet in the panic room. She gingerly picked up the ankh to inspect it. “All this was just locked in here?”

  “Trust me, we were totally stunned too. All along, we were expecting to find a diamond and we found this instead.”

  “No diamond?” she asked, surprised.

  “No,” said Steven, “that’s a bit of a mystery.”

  Linda gently set the ankh back on the shelf, then leaned against the edge of the desk, an expectant look on her face. “Willing to share it with me?” she asked after a moment of silence.

  Steven turned to me and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  “I’ll trade you the story for some advice,” I said.

  “You want me to be brutally honest?”

  “Do I have any choice?”

  “None whatsoever. Now out with it.”

  “Okay. Bear with me.” I paused to collect my thoughts. “So we originally thought the Florentine was a diamond and that Richard Lister—”

  “The cadaver with the lip code?” Linda interrupted.

  “Right. We figured Richard locked the diamond in here.”

  “I’m with you so far.” Linda nodded.

  “But now we’re pretty sure the Florentine isn’t a diamond—in fact, the only thing we found in here relating to ‘the Florentine’ was a pair of thumb drives labeled ‘Florentine Controller.’”

  “Florentine Controller?” she asked, shaking her head. “What the heck is that?”

  “Exactly our reaction,” said Steven. “But whatever it is, it’s pretty clearly not a diamond.”

  Linda leaned in. “Okay, so what was on the drives?”

  “A video documenting a descent into a cave.”

  “Come again, cowboy?” Linda looked perplexed.

  “We think Richard Lister hid the Florentine Controller in a cave and documented its location with video.”

  “Kind of like a computer version of a treasure map?”

  “That was my theory,” said Steven.

  “That cadaver’s been busy,” she nodded approvingly.

  “I like her,” said Steven.

  “So are you thinking of spelunking for it? And if so, how do I get in on the expedition?”

  “You may not want to when you hear the rest.”

  “There’s more?” Linda motioned me to continue. “Keep going, then.”

  “Well, there’s a hiccup. Remember that Khalimmy guy I told you about?”

  “The guy who wanted to buy the diamond … or whatever it is, right?”

  “Right. Well, he’s still hunting for it, and now there’s a Russian guy looking for it too. Bad people. They’ve already put Richard Lister’s brother in a coma and nearly put us into body bags.” I briefly filled Linda in on the latest about Khalimmy and the Russian.

  “So they were after Richard Lister for the Florentine, and now that you’ve got it—or at least they think you’ve got it—you’re worried they’re going to come after you.”

  “You nailed it,” I said. “I was hoping we’d find the Florentine locked in here. Then we could have just handed it over to the FBI and been done with this.”

  “Or given to the media to make a big stink about,” added Steven. “Once the word is out that Alex doesn’t have it anymore, these guys no longer have a motive to come after him.”

  “Okay, so why not just grab it from the cave and hand it over to Katie Couric?”

  “Easier said than done,” I said. “We’ve got no idea where the cave is. So now we’re back to square one, with at least one and maybe two psychopaths stalking me.”

  “Not good, Alex,” said Linda, pacing around the small room. “I had no idea this thing wa
s so serious.”

  “Yeah, it’s a big mess. I don’t know what to do.”

  “And this Khalimmy guy and the Russian? You don’t know anything else about them?”

  “Nothing,” said Steven. “Although Khalimmy’s currently being hunted by the police, so I’m betting he’s long gone.”

  “I’m not so sure,” I said.

  Linda bit her lip in thought. “I think your only out is to find this Florentine Controller thing and hand it over to the authorities. Or, like you said, Steven, to the media.” She scratched her head. “Out of curiosity, have you thought about searching online for the cave?”

  “How would you do that?” Steven asked.

  “I’ve got to think you could find it on Spelunking.com or maybe on Rockclimbing.com. They’ve got thousands of caves cataloged. Members post photos and videos of their descents all the time. Unless the cave is totally unknown, which would be pretty surprising, it’s just a matter of slogging through web pages. Or you could post a clip from the video onto their chat forum and see what people say.”

  “At this point, I’m willing to try anything,” I said.

  “Can you show me the video?” she asked. “Maybe I’ll recognize the cave, or see something you guys missed.”

  I locked the panic room, then the three of us worked our way back up the ladder and into the library. It was getting misty outside, and as the last rays of the sun disappeared, curls of fog began to descend over the wall and amongst the ferns and bamboo.

  I motioned for Linda to sit down in front of the laptop, then flipped on the kitchen lights.

  “Here, take a look,” I said, opening the clamshell and clicking on the Play button. After a brief pause, the computer resumed the video from where Steven had fast-forwarded it earlier. “This is a few minutes in. Let me back up to the start—”

  “Wait.” Linda grabbed my hand.

  “You recognize it?” My heart raced.

  “I’m not sure. Let me watch a little more.”

  Linda leaned into the small screen and stared intently.

  “Those stalactites are pretty unusual. Somehow they look familiar—I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a photo of this place online before. Does the video show the outside of the cave?”

  “Not really,” I said, walking over to the sink for some water, “the footage starts just inside the mouth.”

  “Let’s see,” she said, swiping her finger and clicking the track pad. A beat later, the video began playing from the start. Again, she leaned into the laptop, chin resting on her fists, watching intently.

  “The problem is they don’t show the outside,” I said.

  “Shhhh!” Linda sat glued to the screen, watching and rewinding the video at least five times. Then with a vigorous nod of her head, she slid her chair back and stood up.

  “Guys … I know where this is.”

  Chapter 39

  “You what?” asked Steven.

  “That’s the Cupeño Indian Cave!” Linda backed up the video a few seconds, then paused it.

  “Cu-what?” I asked, running around the table to the laptop.

  “Cupeño,” she repeated. “It’s supposedly an old Indian shaman cave.” Linda pointed at the oak silhouetted at the mouth of the cave. “No mistaking it; I’m one-hundred-percent sure. Last week I was looking for new spelunking sites with Jamie. They had a photo almost identical to this shot on Climbing.com.”

  “Where is it?” I asked. “In Montana?”

  “No! No, it’s practically next door. According to the write-up, it’s about a mile up the ravine in Malibu Creek State Park, an hour’s hike past the rock pool, up on the left side of the canyon.”

  “Malibu Creek? Are you kidding?” I’d spent the last seven years of my life hiking and climbing every square inch of Malibu Creek State Park, but had never once heard of a cave system. “How come I’ve never heard about it?”

  “You’re not alone. The guy who posted the pictures is an old-timer, and he said he’d never heard anyone mention it either. He apparently found a reference to it in an old nineteenth-century naturalist book and decided to take a look.”

  “Have you been?” I asked.

  “No. Jamie and I were planning on going in a few weeks.”

  “We’ve got to go, Alex,” said Steven. “Let’s settle this once and for all.”

  I gnawed on my thumbnail.

  “Look,” he said, “we know for a fact that we’re the only people alive that have seen this video—no one else has a clue that the Florentine is hidden in a cave, or for that matter, where the cave is.” He took a deep breath. “You could be in and out of there before anyone even knows it. And once you have the, the thing, you’re in control. Give it to the FBI if you like. Or give it to the press. Either way, this whole thing could be over by tomorrow.”

  He was right. The only sure way to get closure was to find the Florentine and then expose it. And if we were going to go after it, now was the time.

  “I … I can’t do it alone.”

  “What do you mean, I?” asked Steven.

  “There’s no way you’re going down into that cave. You’ll get yourself killed. Even given my caving and climbing experience, I still wouldn’t go more than ten feet into that tube without an expert partner.”

  “Okay, then who do you know who could go?” asked Steven.

  “I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “This whole thing could be a deathtrap.”

  “I’ll go with you, Alex.” Linda twisted her chair to face me.

  “No way. It’d kill me if anything happened to you.”

  “Alex, you’re not going without me. I won’t let you,” she said, shaking her head. “If you want to drop this, that’s okay, but there’s no way I’ll let you go in without me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes you can,” she said. “I can take care of myself, Alex. And you need me.”

  I sat down and covered my face in my hands. Linda ignored me and plowed on.

  “Like you said, you can’t do this alone. You’re going to need an experienced partner, one you’ve climbed with before. Someone who knows how you’ll react—and what to do—when shit goes wrong.”

  “But,” I stammered.

  “How many times have we caved together, Alex? Ten? Twenty?” she asked. “Who knows you better than I do?”

  I shook my head.

  Linda stood up and began pacing. “We’re going to need to round up a bunch of equipment and find a third. It’s not safe with just two.”

  “I can be the third. You’re both experts. I can be the backup.”

  Linda turned toward Steven, paused a beat, and looked questioningly at me. At two-twenty, Steven had put on a fair amount of weight since our college days—and he’d never set foot in a cave.

  “Listen to me, Steven, you’re going to be a liability,” I said. “We need someone who can help us get out of trouble, someone who’s caved before.”

  “I’ve climbed at least half a dozen times with you,” countered Steven defensively.

  “This is different,” said Linda. “If someone gets injured down there, or we run into a gas pocket, or the headlamps die, or any one of fifty other things go wrong, we’re going to want to have someone who knows exactly what to do.”

  Steven held up his hands. “Okay, okay.”

  “Alex, what do you think about Potter? He’s caved for years.”

  “I couldn’t drag Davis Potter into this.”

  “Why don’t you let him decide for himself?” asked Linda.

  “I wouldn’t feel right,” I reiterated. “It’s just too dangerous.”

  “Just give him the facts and let him decide,” she said. “You’ve been there for him, Alex, many times. And if he’s not cool with it, we’ll figure something else out.”

  “I … I guess I could ask him.”

  “Do you have any paper and a pen?”

  “On the counter. One second.” I grabbed the first thumb drive from the card table and slid i
t back in the envelope, then laid it on the counter to put back later.

  “Here,” I said, returning with a Regina Flowers notepad and pen.

  “Let’s watch the rest of the video and take notes,” she said, “I want to make sure we know what equipment we’ll need. Then we’ll call Potter.”

  By the time the video had ended, Linda had a list twenty items long.

  “Did you ever pick up a new set of Jumars and étriers?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, they’re in my garage with the rest of my spelunking gear.”

  “What’s a Jumar and an … etr—” asked Steven.

  “Et-tree-aye,” said Linda in perfect French. “They’re a set of devices that you use to ascend up a rope. You need them when you’re caving and the rock’s too wet or difficult to climb with your hands.”

  “Are they battery-powered or something?”

  “Only in the movies,” I replied with a smile. “They’re muscle powered—they make it much easier, but you’ve still got to manually use them to pull yourself up the rope.”

  “That sounds like it would be a lot of work,” said Steven.

  “Trust me,” I said, “it’s exhausting.”

  Steven nodded nervously.

  “Okay, I think that’s it. Let’s call Potter.”

  “You still want to go?” I asked Potter. “Even given all of the risks?”

  “I do,” said Potter over Linda’s speakerphone. “I want to be there for you guys. You’ve saved my life more times than I care to remember, now it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

  “Then we do it tomorrow morning—at eight—before the park gets busy.”

  “That works,” said Linda.

  “Sounds good,” said Potter.

  “All right, everyone knows what gear they’re bringing,” I said. “Let’s call it a night and get some sleep, guys. We’ll need it.”

  Linda hung up her phone, then stood to stretch while I packed my laptop for the trip back to my old place in Northridge.

  “Actually, Linda, would you mind giving Steven a ride home? When I get back, I’ve got to dig up all my spelunking gear, and I want to transfer a copy of the video to my iPod so we can consult it on the way down. It’d save me some time if you could take him back.”