“Oh,” she said. “So he won’t see me.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Greaves said. “You may be the one in the family who knows the habits and taboos of faraway places. But he’s the old hand in the jungles of London. He’s going to work the powerful in your interest, but quietly.”
“I understand.”
Greaves had won his point. He spoke to his driver. “We’ll take Lady Sarah to her house in Brompton.”
Chapter 34
The Guatemalan army arrived in the town of Santa Maria de los Montañas on a Monday. On Tuesday, a helicopter landed in a cornfield a mile from the town. Out of it stepped Commander Rueda.
When Rueda and his lieutenants arrived in the town square, Sam and Remi were among the people waiting to greet him. Sam said, “It’s good to see you again, Commander. What brings you here?”
Rueda shrugged, but he couldn’t hide a smile. “It seems that Sarah Allersby has been arrested in London for bringing a Mayan codex into the United Kingdom. So some powerful people have had to change their positions on these matters quickly. I’ve been appointed acting commander of the government forces in the region.”
“Congratulations,” said Remi. “Is it proper to ask what you’re going to do?”
“Certainly. I want to be very open about everything we do. Right now, I have troops in the Estancia Guerrero searching for drugs. There are others in Guatemala City searching Sarah Allersby’s home, office, and a few business properties for signs that she’s been plundering archaeological sites.”
“Hooray for you,” said Remi.
“I hope you’ll still feel that way if we ask you to testify,” said Rueda.
“We’ll be delighted,” said Sam. “It will give us an excuse to come back here. We’ve made some good friends.” He noticed some faces nearby. “Here are two of them that you should know. Father Gomez and Dr. Huerta. This is Commander Rueda, my friends. He is honest, completely aware of the problems in the area, and, fortunately for everyone, the officer in charge from now on.”
Rueda gave a slight military bow. “I’ve heard of you both. We know you’ve been trying to stop the movement of drugs, and, if I may say so, the people of Guatemala thank you for your courage.”
Remi was distracted. She pointed down the long road. Far away, a low black cloud had stretched across the horizon. “Look!” she said. “A fire.”
Rueda gave it a glance. “My men are conducting a controlled burn of the marijuana fields at Estancia Guerrero. I understand they’ve confirmed your identification of coca trees too. Everything beyond what they’ve kept for evidence is being destroyed.” He looked at his two aides. “I guess we’d better be going. There’s much to do.”
Sam and Remi drove Rueda and his aides to the helicopter. Just as Rueda was about to board, he took Sam and Remi aside. “This probably isn’t going to mean anything, but I have to tell you that the two men who tried to kill you a few weeks ago were among the men captured. After two days in a prison near the capital, they killed two men who were about to leave on a work release assignment and took their places. We think they’ve left the country, but we’re not sure.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open,” said Sam. As the rotors began to turn, he and Remi stepped back to avoid the wash of air and watched them depart. Sam reached for his cell phone and called Selma.
“Sam and Remi, I was worried about you,” she said. “Did you get everything resolved?”
“I did,” said Sam.
“Has David Caine arrived yet?”
“David Caine? Is he coming?”
Selma said, “He was always planning to come. Final examinations ended on Friday. It’s June, Sam. You’re studying the Mayans and nobody has a calendar?”
“Oh,” he said. “I guess we should have remembered.”
David Caine arrived at the head of a convoy of Land Rovers, which made their way up the hill with relative ease and then pulled up in a row on the street just beyond the church. Caine jumped down and threw his arms around Sam and Remi. “I’ve heard what you two did. You’re amazing.”
“Thanks,” said Remi quietly. “What you and your colleagues will find here is more amazing. But you’d better let us smooth the way before you do any exploring. In the meantime, smile at everybody, talk to them about anything except archaeology, and be patient. We’ve already cleared the way for a public meeting where we can introduce you.”
Chapter 35
Sarah Allersby was bored in London. In Guatemala City, she had been the center of attention. In parts of Europe, she had been invited to everything — Rome, Athens, Berlin, Prague. Even in Paris she had been to the best places with sought-after young people.
But now because of the ridiculous court order, she was not permitted to leave rainy, cold, damp London. Worse, the social climate in London had not been warm. She’d had such bad press for the past couple of months, with the accusations that she’d looted Mayan tombs, claimed to discover sites that had already been registered, and used a Mayan codex she wasn’t supposed to have.
Beginning a day ago, rumors about her had begun to circulate, and she was being associated with some huge drug bust in Central America. People had already canceled their RSVPs, so the welcome-home dinner party she was throwing for herself was dissolving. She could hear the fear in their voices. They had been scared their precious reputations would be tarnished if they shared hors d’oeuvres with mad, bad Sarah Allersby. A year ago, any of them would have come to her party even if they’d had to crawl to her house on their knees.
She stood in front of the big mirror by the door and inspected herself as she buttoned her navy blue coat. The buttons were gold, and the coat looked like a piece of an eighteenth-century naval officer’s uniform. She half turned to present her profile to the mirror, stepped to the door, and opened it. The .308 caliber bullet pierced her forehead and passed through the back of her skull, destroying her brain so fast that she never heard the report of the rifle, if there was one.
Through the rifle scope, Russell could see that she had fallen backward, and the heavy front door had begun to swing closed. It had been stopped by one of her feet, so it looked as though it had been partially opened by someone about to leave who had gone back in to get something.
Russell put down the rifle while Ruiz closed and locked the window and then drew the curtain. Russell quickly dismantled the rifle and placed it in his suitcase. He and Ruiz hurried down the back staircase, then into the kitchen and out the back door to the garden. It was midmorning, so there were cars and people on nearby streets, but nobody seemed to have noticed anything.
The house they had been in was for sale. It was only one number down and across the street from Sarah’s and it was the same kind of place. Four million pounds was what they’d been asking. Russell and Ruiz had spent only about an hour in the house and had worn rubber gloves.
As Russell rushed through the back garden — such a British thing in itself — he felt satisfied. Sarah had broken her promise and let him and Ruiz go to a Guatemalan jail. So now she had received her payment. Russell got into the car that they’d left waiting at the curb, and Ruiz drove. Ruiz seemed to be better at driving on the wrong side of the road. He stopped the car on the way so Russell could drop the pieces of the rifle in a series of trash cans.
At Waterloo station, they stopped in a men’s room to change clothes and wash their hands. They took the big yellow-and-white Eurostar train to Paris. It would take them three hours to get there, but they had premium first-class tickets, and the ride promised to be restful. And anything was better than the prison they’d escaped from in Guatemala.