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.’
42
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.