Выбрать главу

“No wonder you did not answer my calls,” Purdue mentioned as he took a seat. Nina threw the bottle in the trash bin by the back door. Bruich strolled into the kitchen, tangling his body in between the small historian’s feet to remind her that he has not had dinner yet.

“Oh shit. Sorry Bruich,” she gasped. “I just have to feed the cat, Purdue. Do you want some coffee or something?”

Purdue was surprised that she was so cordial, but he was not about to complain.

“Coffee, thank you,” he said from the kitchen doorway behind her.

“So, why are you here?” she asked outright, as the old Nina would.

Purdue took a moment to formulate his words correctly. “Nina. I know this is the last thing you want to hear ever again, but I need your help.”

Chapter 11

In Edinburgh, it had been raining for days.

Costa Megalos was preparing to leave, having completed his work at the University and having visited all the people he had been there to see. His ticket back home was lying on the pillow of his hotel room while he showered. He liked the rain, relishing the droplets from the shower head pattering down on him to the sound of the rain against his window.

He did not hear the room door unlock, having no idea that his things were being rummaged through by some stranger looking for something. The restless Scottish weather only aided the intruder in their task, masking the noise they made when opening and closing the cabinet doors. Carefully, Costa’s clothing was lifted and replaced exactly as it was found. His laptop was left untouched. The intruder was not looking for data or information. They were looking for something quite concrete, an object he was said to be in possession of.

Costa’s phone rang, alerting the unsuccessful burglar to flee. In the bathroom, the water was cut off, and Costa rushed to get the call, not bothering with a towel drying or covering. As the door barely shut, the art professor appeared from the bathroom, racing to find his phone in the bundle of luggage he had left on his bed.

“Yes,” he answered slightly out of breath.

“Hello, Professor Megalos?”

“Yes?” he frowned, unable to place if he knew the female caller.

“I hope you are well, and I am sorry to bother, but my boss asked me to get in contact with you. My name is Claire, from the British Museum in London,” she said.

Costa was surprised, as he had not dealt with this institution before.

“Oh,” he said more amicably, “how can I help you?”

She sounded a little coy, like a smitten admirer. “Well, we know you by reputation, so to speak. I work for the curator of the museum, and she gave me your number to find out if you would possibly be able to consult for us?”

Coast felt flattered. “Really? By reputation? When exactly did you need me to help and how long were you hoping to use my services?”

“Soonest, actually. Yesterday,” she replied. “It is quite urgent, but we heard you were lecturing in Scotland for a bit, so I hope I am not interrupting your…”

“No, no,” he interrupted. “I am done in Scotland with my… uh, business, but I can travel to London before I return home to Greece.”

The friendly lady on the phone sounded elated. “You are done with your lectures? Perfect! However, you would not have to come to London, Professor. Our benefactor, the man who needs your assistance, is currently in Edinburgh.”

“Oh! That is convenient,” Costa agreed. “I can be there as soon as I check out of the hotel.”

“Excellent,” Claire replied. “Let me give you the details. Do you have a pen?”

“Uh, give me a second. I am naked and wet,” the Greek mentioned without a second thought. He upturned his leather case to get something to write with.

“Excuse me?” Claire exclaimed, sounding flushed and humored by his revelation.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I was in the shower when you called.”

He heard Claire giggle, “Aaah, I see.”

* * *

After he took down the details and got dressed, Costa packed up and checked out of the Old Town Chambers, waiting in a coffee shop for his lift to arrive. The hired car’s driver helped him load his luggage in the light drizzle that had replaced the previous hour’s downpour.

“All done. Where to, Professor?” the driver asked.

“I am not sure how to pronounce this, actually,” Coast admitted. “And I am confident that I spelled it hideously wrong too.” He passed the shred of paper he had scribbled on to the driver who took a moment to decipher what it could be. Then his face lit up.

“Oh! I think you mean, ‘Wrichtishousis’?” he exclaimed.

“That’s it!” Costa nodded cheerfully. “Is that an actual place?”

“Aye, sir,” the driver smiled. “Home of billionaire playboy inventor and explorer David Purdue, it is. You are in for an interesting time, I’m sure.”

“Why?” Costa asked as the car pulled away.

“The man is a world renowned explorer, as I have mentioned. He is always involved in groundbreaking discoveries, most of them quite controversial too,” the babbling driver informed the professor like a tour operator. “Wrichtishousis is his mansion up there near the University of Edinburgh, so you should be familiar with the area, I suppose.”

The art professor was impressed, but having no idea who this wealthy man was he could not help but feel a measure of apprehension about the matter he was summoned for. Costa had no problem with new faces or places, but he always felt a tad nervous when he was about to meet influential people.

“How do you know I would find the area familiar?” the professor inquired, sounding a little defensive. “I am a foreigner, and I have only been to Edinburgh twice in my life.”

“Please, don’t take offence, sir,” the driver apologized. “I merely assumed you would know the area because you have been lecturing here for two weeks at the University. Same area.”

“Oh, so you know who I am? How do you know that I was lecturing at the University of Edinburgh?” Costa frowned. He was feeling somewhat vulnerable because he was by no means famous and the driver looked the farthest thing from an academic with an interest in Greek Art.

“Um, well, actually my daughter told me all about you. She is a student at the University,” the driver clarified, leaving Costa feeling a hell of a lot better. “Her name is Abbie, and she attended your lecture the other night,” the man smiled. “You must be an excellent teacher. Over the weekend, she could not shut up about you!”

Chapter 12

In the soundproof safety of his study, Purdue was completing a phone call on his tablet. He did not want staff or his accountants to find the number on registered lines. It was strictly off the record. This call was his own business.

“Please let me know how the operation went, doctor. And if there is anything you and your team need to speed up his recovery or better the task, please contact me. And, as always, the utmost discretion is imperative. Thank you, doctor. Thank you very much.”

Purdue was waiting for the last two people he lined up to join the excursion that would probe the origin and authenticity mysterious stone statues and whatever method was used to make them. He could not resist the unshakable fascination he had with such an anomaly, the works of the impossible, and he had to know what the phenomenon was all about.

Outside in the pouring rain, the massive gates to his estate remained open with only two security guards on duty to keep an eye on the entrance. Inside the vast mansion, Purdue was entertaining those he had already employed officially to join him in the search. His first order of business was to locate the warehouse Dr. James Heidmann had spoken of to get better insight as to the cause of the calcification and to make a record of any identification symbols or names the statues might hold.