“What kind of places?” he asked with more edge than he wanted to.
Hesitating, collecting the right words, Sara finally said, “There’s a man in Messina who works with a new dig outside of the city that dates back to just before a huge earthquake in the late sixteen hundreds. I made it sound like I was very interested in this dig to the Malta professor to throw him off my real interest.”
“Siracusa,” Jake said.
“Right.”
Finally Elisa shifted her body forward and asked, “What is this all about?”
Sara turned to her and said, “It’s complicated. But it’s kind of like Texas poker. Are you familiar with that?”
“I’ve heard about it,” Elisa said.
“Well, with poker you let your opponent think you have a better or worse hand than you do. That way you can either get them to shove more money into the pot or fold their hand, depending on your intent.”
“I understand subterfuge,” Elisa assured her. “But what I meant was why are the Greeks after you? What do they hope to get from you?”
That was a question Jake also wanted to ask.
“I don’t really know,” Sara said. “I’m just writing a book about Archimedes. He’s always been a hero of mine.”
“What do you expect to find here?” Jake asked Sara.
The professor glanced out the window toward the old church, which had seen much better days. The white stone structure looked like someone had peppered the walls with a 50-caliber machine gun. Which could have actually happened during WWII. “This church, the Church of San Pancrazio, was built in the sixth century. It’s Roman Catholic, but it’s built on a Greek temple from before Christ. Saint Pancras was a Greek who died in Sicily as a martyr in forty A.D.” She looked back at Jake. “There are a number of ornate gravestones in the crypt beneath the church. I’ve seen photos but nothing with great detail. I hope to gain some insight into my research here.”
She was still being cryptic herself, Jake thought. The good professor wasn’t telling him everything, but that wasn’t his concern. It was his job to find her, which he did, and now he just needed to get her home to Texas in one piece.
“All right,” Jake said. “Let’s do this.”
Since it was so early in the morning, they were the first to make their way into the church, other than a few actual older women who seemed to be present praying in every Catholic church in every city in Europe.
They found their way down into the cellar, a dark, damp place lit by lights strung overhead. But there were shelves built into the thick walls where candles had been before electricity, and stood by now in case of a power failure.
Sara moved from one tomb and gravestone to the next as if she were looking for just the right one.
Jake caught up to her. “Are you looking for something in particular?” he asked.
The professor kept walking, her eyes scanning. She stopped and had her camera in her hands now with an image visible. “This one,” she said, showing him the photo.
To Jake it looked just like all the others. Elisa nudged in next to Jake for a view, but she said nothing.
Moving deeper into the cellar, it seemed to get darker the farther they went. It was obvious the tombs were getting older. And in this area the gravestones were in their own little rooms with metal bars enclosing them, like they were in an eternal prison.
“There,” Sara said. They had reached the last tomb in the corridor. She stared at the tomb reverently, as if praying, and then she shot a number of photos of the less than ornate stone surface. These were obviously carved by hand.
“How old are these?” Jake asked. “And what language is that?”
Sara seemed to be calculating something in her mind. “It’s Doric Greek.”
“Is this significant?” Elisa finally asked.
“Yes,” the professor said. “It’s the language of Archimedes and the Greeks of this region of Magna Graecia. It reminds me of the Pella tablet from the 4th Century BC made from rolled lead and found in the right hand of a dead man. It contained a magical and ritualistic curse.”
Jake let out a slight laugh. “Right. Now we just need Shaggy and Scooby-Doo and the gang to stroll down this corridor.”
Sara turned on him swiftly. “I’m not saying this is some sort of message or curse…”
“I think I know that,” Jake interrupted. “Just trying to lighten the mood here. I’m a little tired and hungry. Need more than just one cup of coffee I got in Catania.”
“I could eat too,” Elisa said.
“Me too,” Sara said. “But first I need to get inside there for a closer look.”
Looking down the corridor, Jake said, “You’re shittin’ me right? You would probably have to get approval of the Vatican to get within two feet of that tomb.”
“Hey, you just stole a car?” Sara reminded him.
“I acquired it temporarily,” he said. “I’ll return it. But this? This would be like grave robbing. I’m talking eternal damnation here.”
“Probably not eternal,” Elisa comforted. “More like the temporal punishment of Purgatory.”
Jake threw his hands up. “Great, just Purgatory.” He felt like his life was already in Limbo anyway after the death of his girlfriend and his recent incarceration in the Tunisian prison.
“I’ll do it,” Sara said. “I haven’t been to church since Christ was an alter-boy anyway.” She grasped the ancient lock on the chain that ran through the metal door and the lock just gave way, falling into her hand.
Glancing upward with his eyes, Jake questioned, “Divine intervention?”
Without saying a word, Professor Sara Halsey Jones entered the small tomb room and took a number of photos close up of the engraved Greek writing from all angles.
Jake and Elisa kept an eye out for anyone coming down the corridor. Within seconds an older couple came around the corner near the stairway to the church above.
“I’ll take care of them,” Elisa said and headed off with authority.
He watched as Elisa talked with the older couple, pointing back toward the staircase, and then Jake turned back to Sara. “You about done in there?”
She turned and came to the metal door, running the chain and locking it behind her. “This is amazing,” she said. “It’s carved on the other side also. I’ll have to translate it later. You mentioned food? All of a sudden I’m hungry.”
“Desecrating a grave will do that?” Jake said and smiled at her.
“I doubt there’s a body there. This was probably moved here around the time of Christ.”
“All right. Can we leave now?” Truthfully, he wasn’t concerned over the damnation of this feat, but there were still a group of Greeks who wanted to take his head off — or at least kidnap Sara for some reason.
Without saying another word, Sara shoved her camera into her backpack and walked off toward Elisa, who had convinced the old couple to come back later.
After grabbing some sandwiches from a street cart, they got back into the ‘acquired’ Fiat and started back toward Catania. This time the professor piled into the back to try to start translating the Doric Greek text. Instead of going all the way to Catania, Jake pulled into the small parking lot where they had gotten the car, wiped down the inside for prints, and the three of them got out.
“I had no idea you were such a…what do they say in America? Boy Scout?” Elisa said as the three of them walked back to the train terminal.
Jake shrugged. “Maybe we need to keep a low profile.”
“Like Kurdistan?” Elisa reminded him.
“Kurdistan?” Sara asked.
Jake shook his head and walked ahead of them into the small terminal with an old-school window with a small hole to pass money and tickets.
Sara relented, “What about Kurdistan?”