The Death Relic (26 page)

‘Did you ask her about it?’

He winced. ‘Are you nuts? She’d kick my ass if I suggested it. Heck, she’d kick my ass twice if she knew I told you about any of this, so please keep it to yourself.’

Payne smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I have no intention of making her mad. The last thing I want to worry about is friendly fire.’

Several minutes passed before Maria emerged from the Hummer. When she finally did, she had a strange look on her face, one that was impossible to read because of the wide range of emotions she was experiencing. There were hints of excitement, confusion, determination and anger, as if whatever she’d read had further complicated her outlook on things.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jones asked.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ she assured them, despite the turmoil in her eyes. ‘It’s just … if this document is correct, then I’m in over my head.
Way
over my head. I mean, I know some of the basics about Landa, but not nearly enough to confirm these claims.’

‘What claims?’ Payne wondered.

She glanced at him, then lowered her eyes in shame. ‘Claims against the Church.’

Jones, who knew that Maria had been a practising Catholic for her entire life, realized this would be a sensitive topic, especially as her father was embroiled in a scandal at the Vatican at the time of his death. With that in mind, he shook his head to warn Payne. It let him know he needed to tread cautiously or risk Maria’s wrath. Payne nodded in understanding.

‘What type of claims?’ Jones asked softly.

She took a deep breath, then tried to brush it off. ‘Nothing I haven’t seen before. Corruption, greed, hypocrisy. You know, the big three.’

‘Sorry to hear that.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s OK. I mean, it’s
not
OK, but I’ve seen this crap so many times it barely registers any more. During the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, the Catholic Church was run by immoral men who used their positions to acquire power, wealth and sex. Not everyone was like that – some priests and bishops were
actual
saints – but misbehaviour was more common than you’d think. If I had a thousand dollars for every time the Pope got somebody pregnant, I could buy a very nice condo in Rome.’

Payne was tempted to say that a condo in Rome is probably
where
the popes got most of the women pregnant, but he decided to heed Jones’s warning and hold his tongue.

Jones pointed at the packet in her grasp. She was holding it so tightly her fingertips were turning white. ‘You might want to ease up. A tree died for that document.’

She glanced at her hands and nodded. ‘Sorry. I’m just a little rattled.’

‘Why? What does it say?’

She took another deep breath, trying to calm down. ‘Before I try to explain, what do you know about Landa?’

‘Quite a bit, actually. I was filling Jon in while you worked on the translation.’

Payne rolled his eyes but didn’t contradict the claim. He knew Jones was trying to impress her. ‘That’s right. He told me all about the book burnings and the cruelty and the charges of persecution. It was like having a conversation with an encyclopedia.’

‘Really?’ she said, surprised. ‘That’s great to hear, because I need all the help I can get. Maybe you can fill me in on some things. I’m somewhat hazy on his later years.’

Payne couldn’t help but smile. ‘Yes, David, please enlighten us.’

Jones played it perfectly. ‘Actually, I doubt I’ll be much help to a historian like you. My knowledge of Landa is pretty superficial. You know, the type of stuff you could find on the Internet. I doubt I’ll be able to tell you anything you don’t already know.’

She smiled. ‘That’s OK. Most guys wouldn’t know Landa from a hole in the ground. I’m impressed that you know him at all.’

Jones nodded smugly. ‘That’s the beauty of an Air Force Academy education.’

‘What is?’ demanded Payne, who had attended the rival Naval Academy. ‘Your superficial understanding of things, or the fact that you can get the same education on the Internet?’

Maria tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself. It was a funny line that helped take the edge off the situation. Jones quickly insulted him back, and before long the three of them were engaged in some good-natured teasing. Payne hated to see the laughter end – it was the first time during the trip that he’d felt comfortable with Maria, as if she was a friend rather than a client – but he realized they were wasting precious time.

‘So,’ Payne said, ‘I hate to be the bad guy, but I’m really curious about the document. What can you tell us?’

She nodded in understanding. It was time to get back to work. ‘What do you know about Landa’s appointment as Bishop of Yucatán?’

‘Not much, other than the fact that it was controversial.’

‘Controversial is an understatement. Not only did the committee find him innocent of his crimes, but he was eventually selected to replace the man who’d brought the charges against him. Needless to say, the Governors of Yucatán were outraged by this decision. Everyone – and I mean
everyone
– in Mexico was familiar with Diego de Landa and his abusive ways, yet somehow he managed to convince the Church to send him back.’

‘Jon and I were just talking about that. We couldn’t figure out how Landa pulled it off, unless there was some kind of conspiracy.’

She held up the document. ‘According to this, Landa bought his freedom with the promise of a vast treasure. He convinced the Church that he had assembled a massive stockpile of Mayan artefacts – items he had deemed too valuable to burn. In exchange for his release, he was willing to hide these items from the King and smuggle them to the Church instead.’

‘Landa admitted to this?’ Payne asked.

She shook her head. ‘This journal wasn’t written by Landa. It was written by a young priest named Marcos de Mercado. He was assigned by the Church to chronicle Landa’s movements on his return to the Yucatán. Prior to the priesthood, Mercado had trained as a soldier, so they felt he was the perfect choice to spy on Landa in hostile terrain. Not only did he know religion, he knew the ways of the blade.’

Jones grimaced. ‘Sounds like a bad movie.
Marcos de Mercado: Warrior Priest
.’

‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I think you would have liked the guy. He had a quiet, intellectual side that came across in his writing. Underneath, he had the heart of a fighter.’

‘Tell me more about the document,’ Payne said to Maria. ‘Now that you’ve read it, do you have a better understanding of your role in things?’

‘Not at all,’ she admitted. ‘If anything, I’m even more confused about my invitation. Obviously, Landa was involved with the Church in some type of scheme, but you don’t have to be an expert in Christian history to know that. All I needed was the ability to read Spanish, which is a skill that Hamilton possesses.’

‘What about Landa’s treasure? Are you familiar with that?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s news to me. But …’

‘But what?’ Jones asked.

‘If there was a treasure – and that’s still a big
if
in my mind – it would certainly explain some of Hamilton’s comments during our meeting. He kept bragging about something they had found. He hinted at its historical ramifications and said it would “blow my mind”. There was something about his tone that led me to believe they were close to a major discovery. Really close.’

Payne considered her words. ‘Hamilton was bragging?’

She nodded. ‘He could barely keep the grin off his face.’

‘Crap. That’s not good. I didn’t know he was a braggart.’

‘Not to everyone. Just to me. I think he was trying to impress me so I would take the job.’

‘Still,’ Payne said, ‘you’d be surprised how many plans fall apart because of bragging. What if someone at the hotel overheard his boasts? They might have grabbed him in the parking lot to get a big payday.’

She dismissed his claim. ‘No, way. He was careful. We sat far away from everyone else. There’s no way anyone overheard us.’

‘Which way was the wind blowing?’ Payne wondered.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Was it blowing towards the bar or towards the beach? You’d be surprised how far sound can travel. Believe it or not, sound is louder and more intense downwind.’

Jones nodded. ‘He’s right.’

‘I’m telling you, no one overheard us.’

Payne let it slide. ‘Fine. Maybe you’re right. But that’s just a single conversation. What if you weren’t the first person contacted by Hamilton? Maybe he bragged to someone else and they decided to make a play for the treasure. You said this guy was a drinker, right? What if he threw back too many tequilas one night and ended up spilling the news? There’s no telling who knows about the treasure, or what they would do to find it.’

Maria nodded and brushed the hair from her eyes. Until that moment, she had been shouldering a lot of guilt about Hamilton’s disappearance, figuring that if he hadn’t driven to Cancún to meet with her, then he wouldn’t have been abducted. But now, thanks to Payne’s comment, she realized that Hamilton might have screwed up on his own. Somehow that made her feel slightly better about the situation. ‘If that’s the case, what should we do now? Do we try to figure out who he talked to? Or is there some other angle to pursue?’

Payne looked at Jones. ‘What do you think?’

‘Personally, I don’t think there’s any way we can figure out who Hamilton talked to or if anyone overheard his conversation, not without a lot of legwork. For the time being, I think the best thing to do is concentrate on what we know – and what we
don’t
know.’

‘Meaning?’

‘We need to talk to our expert about Landa’s treasure. If it possibly exists, then there’s a damn good chance it’s connected to Hamilton’s disappearance. If not, then we need to focus our attention on other motives.’

Maria held up the document. ‘That sounds great and all, but I told you this isn’t my area of expertise. This is the first time I’ve read anything about a treasure.’

Jones smiled and patted her on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about our
other
expert.’

The Ulster Archives,

Küsendorf, Switzerland

(82 miles southeast of Bern)

Petr Ulster, a round man with a thick brown beard, soaked in a marble tub filled with warm water and scented oils from Singapore. With bubbles up to his chin, he hummed softly to one of his favourite symphonies as he conducted an imaginary orchestra, flailing his arms to the rhythmic beat of the strings. Water sloshed back and forth with such ferocity that it exceeded the constraints of the tub and spilled onto the floor of his private bathroom. Not that he really cared. He was a man who lived for the moment, someone who relished the simple things in life, such as a gourmet meal, a vintage bottle of wine and the company of friends. Besides, he had a staff of servants who would clean up his mess when he was done with his performance.

The ringing of his telephone brought it to an early end.

Known for his brilliant mind and boyish enthusiasm, he groused about the interruption while reaching for the phone, which was just beyond his grasp. While stretching for it, he pushed so much water onto the floor that it looked like a tropical storm had struck his bathroom. Thankfully, the only victim was a novelty toy he’d been given as a joke by David Jones. Instead of a rubber ducky, it was a swan named Ludwig with a gold crown on its head. It had been knocked off the edge of the tub by the tidal wave. Only then did Ulster realize how much of a mess he had made.

‘Oh dear,’ he mumbled to himself. ‘Winston will be peeved.’

Worried about his butler’s reaction, Ulster leapt from the tub with reckless abandon, grabbed the lone towel from the heated rail and threw it onto the flood to stop the spread of water before it reached the carpeted floor of his dressing room. This, of course, left him soaking wet, shivering, flustered and bare-ass naked when he answered the phone.

‘Hello,’ he said, out of breath. ‘This is Petr.’

‘Petr? It’s Jonathon Payne. Are you all right?’

A smile burst across his face. ‘I am now, my boy!’

‘Are you sure? Because you sound, um, dishevelled.’

Ulster laughed as he turned down the music on the overhead speakers. ‘Though English is my fourth language, I’m not quite sure one can
sound
dishevelled. I believe that’s more of a visual condition than an auditory one.’

‘And yet you sound dishevelled. Trust you to break new ground.’

‘If you say so. Who am I to argue with the great Jonathon Payne?’

Payne grinned. ‘Actually, I can think of quite a few times when we’ve argued, but I’m glad you have selective memory. It’ll be easier to stay on your good side.’

‘No worries there, my friend, and you know it!’

Built in the mid-1960s by Austrian philanthropist Conrad Ulster, the Ulster Archives was the most extensive private collection of documents and antiquities in the world. Unlike most private collections, the main goal of the Archives wasn’t to hoard artefacts. Instead, it attempted to bridge the ever-growing gap between scholars and connoisseurs. Typical big-city museums displayed 15 per cent of their accumulated artefacts, meaning 85 per cent of the world’s finest relics were currently off-limits to the public. That number climbed even higher – closer to 90 per cent – when personal collections were factored into the equation.

Thankfully, the Ulster Foundation had vowed to correct the problem. Ever since the Archives had opened, it had promoted the radical concept of sharing. In order to gain admittance, a visitor had to bring something of value, such as an ancient object or unpublished research, or be willing to donate his time and expertise to the facility. Whatever it was, it had to be approved in advance by the Archives’ staff. If for some reason they deemed it unworthy, then admission to the facility was denied until a suitable arrangement could be made.

It was their way of encouraging sharing.

For more than a decade, the Archives had been run by Petr Ulster, Conrad’s grandson. He had befriended Payne and Jones a few years earlier when they had escorted two frightened academics, Dr Charles Boyd and Maria Pelati, to the facility to conduct research on Tiberius. While they were there, a group of religious zealots had tried to burn the Archives to the ground. Their goal had been to kill Boyd and Pelati, and to destroy a collection of ancient documents that threatened the foundation of the Catholic Church. Fortunately, Payne and Jones had intervened, thwarting the attack and saving the facility from irreparable damage.