"Sorry, Wilbur. If there was something to see, we would have seen it. I don't think there's anything here."
"He's right," Sean said. "The key must be somewhere else."
"What if we took the plastic away, you know, just for a minute? Maybe you could get some hot air directly onto the paper."
Adriana put her hand on the man's shoulder. "It's not worth risking the document," she said. "Trust us. There's nothing here."
Wilbur's shoulders slumped. A crestfallen look washed over his face.
"I wish there was something here," Tommy said. "Would make things a lot easier."
Reece had been quiet for several minutes. "Do you suppose this Mathews bloke might have referenced the key in the journal entry itself? Seems pretty clear to me that we have to go to the Baiame Cave. Says that's where the journey began for him. Maybe we're supposed to walk in his footsteps, so to speak."
"Good point," Sean said. "Notice that last part about the foreign stone?"
The group reexamined the paper again.
"Yeah," Tommy said. "That has to be it. Good thinking, Reece. Let's get some sleep and head up there tomorrow."
"Are you sure there's nothing else on this document?" Wilbur asked. A twinge of tension trickled through the words.
"Let it go," Reece said.
"Don't worry, Wilbur," Tommy said. "If we find anything out there, you'll be one of the first to know."
Chapter 10
Wilbur heard something click several feet behind him.
He'd just closed the back entrance to the museum and was about to head to his car. The visitors had only left ten minutes ago. For a second, he thought one of them might have come back.
"Going somewhere?" a familiar voice said from the shadows on the other side of the alley.
Wilbur spun around, startled and terrified. "I… I was just locking up."
"Looks like you're about to go home for the night."
"Yes… yes, I was."
"Seems like you're leaving something out, Wilbur. Like you did in our previous conversations."
"Leave something out?" Wilbur shook his head in little bursts. "No, I wouldn't do that. I'm helping you guys, remember?"
"You don't seem like you're being very helpful."
"What did you tell them?" Jack stood over Wilbur with a gun pointed at the man's forehead.
Wilbur's hands shook violently. His legs weakened, and he almost dropped to his knees. "Nothing. I swear. I didn't tell them anything."
"That's funny, because it seems like they found something in your museum that you didn't tell me you had."
"I… I can explain."
"You'd better."
"It was the Americans. They… they found the original document in one of the file drawers. I swear, I didn't know it was in there. Honest." Wilbur stuttered his way through his explanation.
Jack didn't believe him. "Now, Wilbur. How is it that the museum director doesn't know what his own building is storing?"
Wilbur's eyes welled up. He was on the verge of sobbing. "I'm telling you, I didn't know the original document was here. I swear. It was in some hidden door in an old desk. I don't know how Annie found it or what she was doing with it. I just saw the fake bottom of the desk for the first time tonight."
"The original, what else was on it that I need to know about?"
"Nothing," Wilbur's head twitched back and forth rapidly. "There was nothing different on it. It was the exact same as the email."
"Then why were the Americans so bent on seeing it?" Jack's patience began to wane. He felt the trigger tense against his index finger.
"I… I don't know," Wilbur stammered. "They thought there might be a code or something in invisible ink."
"A code? What code?"
The keys jingled in Wilbur's hands. "Here. Come inside. I'll show you. Just… please, put the gun down. Please."
Jack drew in a slow breath through his nostrils as he sized up the fat museum director. Wilbur's face was flushed red, and sweat poured down his temples and forehead. If Jack didn't know any better, he'd say the man was about to wet himself.
"Hot night out, isn't it?" Jack asked.
"What?" Wilbur was thrown off by the random question.
"You're sweating, Wilbur. Must be because it's warm out."
"Oh. Yes. Yes, that's it. Hot air. Please, come inside where it's cooler. I'll show you what they found."
Jack only took another second to consider the invitation. "All right, Willy. But if you try anything stupid, I'll splatter your brains all over this little museum. Understand?"
Wilbur's head ratcheted up and down.
"That's a good boy. Would be a shame to have to kill you after all the money our employer's invested in you."
"Right. Right… I'm an investment." He fumbled the keys and finally slid the correct one into the lock.
Inside the dark museum, Wilbur hurried over to the alarm panel and turned it off before the incessant screaming began. When he was done, he rushed back over to the vault door and unlocked it. He flipped a couple of light switches, and the two rooms lit up.
"This way," Wilbur said, motioning with his right hand.
He waddled into the next room and pointed at the work table to his left. "See? They didn't take it with them. Said there wasn't anything helpful on it."
Jack followed him and closed the door behind. He gazed at the paper for a moment, rereading the message he'd already seen via email.
Wilbur had been the one to let Jack know what Annie found. The email system was set up so that he'd be notified whenever a message went out. Initially, it had been a precaution to prevent people from goofing around on company time. On this particular occasion, it was a system that made Wilbur a good deal of money.
He knew Bernard Holmes was interested in Aboriginal artifacts, though he wasn't sure why. It didn't matter to Wilbur. All he knew was that the man had money and was willing to pay top dollar for any information that might lead to anything rare from the Aboriginal history.
Jack had been the one to come by and inquire about the email. He'd also warned Wilbur that others might come by to find out what it meant. He'd made a mistake in believing the Americans were dead. Apparently, his assassin who'd bombed the IAA building in Atlanta botched the detonation.
Jack diverted his eyes away from the Mathews document and took a look around. "You certainly have a lot of old stuff in here, Willy."
Wilbur ignored the goofy nickname Jack had decided to use. "Yes. Yes, we do."
"How long you been working here?"
Wilbur swallowed and attempted to keep his composure. "Too long, Jack. Far too long. That's why your… our employer's request was so fortuitous. Thanks to his investment, I'll be able to retire a bit sooner than expected."
"Ripper, Willy. Ripper." Jack slowly stepped around one of the aisles and stopped at a statue of a woman with one arm. Her flowing gown had been pulled down, exposing her breasts. He tapped the stone with the edge of his gun's muzzle. "I always wondered why these artists were allowed to get away with stuff like this."
"Wha… what?"
"I mean, back in the old days, nudity was everywhere. It was on paintings, sculptures like this one. I always wondered why the fascination."
"Well, the human body was considered a beautiful thing, Jack. Anyway, like I was saying, the Americans didn't find anything useful, so they went on their way."
Jack ran the tip of his gun along the sculpture's arm, all the way to the fingertips.
"You in a hurry to get me out of here, Willy?"
"No," Wilbur said. He forced a short laugh. "No. I'm just tired."
"Ah yes. You must be tired. Been here all day, no doubt."
Wilbur answered with a nod.
"You should probably get some rest."
"That would be good."
"I wonder why you call this room the vault."