"Very well," Dodson said. "Follow me."
Dodson led the way to a hallway and opened the doors of a walk-in closet. He cleared out the winter jackets and other clothing hanging in the closet, then he pushed boots and shoes aside and stepped in. He lifted a section of floor and pressed a button set under the wood. The back wall of the closet slid noiselessly aside. Dodson turned on a light, and with Razov close behind, he descended a winding staircase made of stone blocks. They were in a stone-walled chamber about fifteen feet square. Rusty iron brackets stuck out of the walls.
"This is the original Roman cellar. They used it to store wine and vegetables."
"Spare me the history lesson, Lord Dodson. The crown." Dodson nodded and went over to a pair of brackets set in the wall. He twisted them both clockwise. "This is the unlocking mechanism." He ran his hands down the stones until his fingers found a depression. Then he pulled and a section of wall, actually an iron door faced with inch-thick stones, creaked open. Dodson stepped back. "There's your crown. Exactly where my grandfather put it nearly a hundred years ago."
The crown sat on a pedestal that was covered with purple velvet.
"Turn around and put your hands behind your back," Razov ordered.
He bound Dodson's hands and ankles with duct tape and pushed the Englishman down on the floor so that he sat with his back to a wall. Then Razov tucked his pistol in his belt and reached inside for the crown. It was heavier than he thought and he grunted with exertion as he hugged it to his chest.
The sparkle of the diamonds, rubies and emeralds covering the domed crown was matched by the glitter in Razov's greedy eyes.
"Beautiful," he whispered. "I always thought it was a bit gaudy myself," Dodson said.
"Englishmen," Razov said with contempt. "You're like your grandfather, a fool. Neither one of you could appreciate the power you held in your hands."
"On the contrary. My grandfather knew that with the tsar's family dead, the appearance of the crown would inflame passions and bring out any number of claimants, legitimate and otherwise." He looked pointedly at Razov. "Other countries would be drawn in. There would be another world war."
"Instead, we got more than half a century of communism."
"It would have come in time, anyway. The tsarist regime would have withered from corruption."
Razov laughed and placed the crown on his head. "Like
Napoleon, I crown myself. Behold, the next ruler of Russia."
"I only see a little man making a vulgar display of wealth."
Razov's serpent's eyes went flat. He cut another piece of duct tape and slapped it over Dodson's mouth, then he picked up the crown and climbed up the stairs. At the top, he paused. "You must have read Poe's 'The Cask of Amontillado.' Where the victim is sealed up forever? Perhaps someday your bones will be found. I leave you here in place of the crown. I'm afraid I must dispose of your housekeeper." He stepped through the closet door and into the hallway.
His hands were both full with the crown, so he didn't close the secret panel in the back of the closet. He would deposit the crown in the back of the car, come back and seal Dodson off for eternity, then kill the housekeeper and dispose of her body in the river.
As Razov carried his burden toward the back of the house, he heard a rap at the front door. He froze.
Zavala's voice called out. "Lord Dodson. Are you home?" Then the knock again, louder this time. Razov turned and headed for the kitchen.
Dodson had left the door unlocked when he went out to see if the wind was blowing. Zavala and Austin stepped inside, guns in their hands. Zavala called out again. They made their way down the hall and stopped at the open closet where light streamed from the secret chamber. They exchanged glances, then Austin stepped inside, Bowen at ready, and descended the stairs while Zavala covered his back.
Austin saw Lord Dodson sitting on the floor and peeled the tape from the Englishman's mouth. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Go after Razov – he has the crown." Austin used his Buck knife to cut the tape binding Dodson's hands and feet, and they climbed from the cellar. Dodson smiled when he saw Joe. "A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Zavala."
"Nice to be back, Lord Dodson. This is my partner; Kurt Austin."
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Austin."
"The back door is open," Zavala said. "He must have gone that way."
Dodson looked worried. "My housekeeper. Have you seen her?"
"If you're talking about the large and very angry lady we found tied up in the backseat of a rental car, she's fine," Austin said. "We sent her for the police."
"Thank you," Dodson said. "Razov may try for the river when he finds his car is gone. There's a boat there he may use in an attempt to escape."
Zavala started for the back door.
"Wait," Dodson said. "I know a better way. Come with me."
To the puzzlement of the NUMA men, Dodson led them back through the closet into the underground chamber. He twisted two more wall brackets and opened another section of wall. "This is an old escape tunnel. It comes out at the bottom of a dry well near the river. Use the hand and footholds to climb out. You may be able to get to the boat ahead of that dreadful man. The crown will slow him down."
"Thank you, Lord Dodson," Austin said, ducking his head as he slipped through the door.
"Don't go into the river after him," Dodson called out.
"The shallows are dangerous to walk on. The mud is like quicksand. It can swallow a horse."
Austin and Zavala barely heard the warning as they bent into a running crouch and made their way through the tunnel. They had no flashlight and had to feel their way down the narrow, sloping passageway. The smell of stagnant water and rotting vegetation grew stronger. The tunnel ended abruptly, and if not for the shaft of moonlight they would have slammed into the curved wall.
Austin groped around the stones and found the foot and handholds, then they climbed over the low walls around the well and saw the small boathouse silhouetted against the river's sheen. They made their way to the river and took up their stations on either side of the pier.
Before long, they heard the pounding of feet and heavy breathing. Razov was running their way. It seemed as if he would walk directly into their trap, but as he neared the pier, a patch of sky opened in the clouds and the riverside and Austin's pale hair were bathed in a silvery light. It was only an instant, but Razov veered off to avoid the ambush and ran along the banks of the river.
"Stop, Razov!" Austin shouted. "It's no use."
The crackle of broken branches came from ahead as Razov crashed through the bushes bordering the river. They heard a splash. Austin and Zavala followed the sound until they stood on the grassy bank that rose a few feet above the river. Razov was trying to ford the river, but had only made it a few yards from shore before his feet became encased in the soft bottom mud. He had tried to scramble back to land without success. Now he stood in the water waist deep, facing the bank, the crown still clutched in his arms.
"I can't move," he said.
Austin remembered Dodson's warning of quicksand. He found a limb broken off a tree and extended it toward Razov. "Grab this."
Razov was sinking almost to his armpits, yet he made no effort to reach for the branch.
"Drop the damned crown!" Austin yelled.
"No, I've waited too long. I won't let it go."
"It's not worth your life," Austin said.
The water had reached Razov's chin, and his reply was unintelligible. He lifted the crown high and placed it on his head. The weight only served to push him under the surface more quickly. His face disappeared until only the crown was visible, seemingly floating on the water, its surface glittering with a silver fire. Then it, too, disappeared.
"Dios mio," Zavala said, reverting to his native Spanish. "What a way to go."
They heard a huffing and puffing. Dodson had retrieved his rifle and ran toward them with a flashlight.