‘Very well. Nina.’ He did not sound entirely comfortable with doing so. ‘Eddie.’
‘Oswald,’ said Eddie as he shook the official’s hand and grinned cheekily. ‘Or can I call you Ozzy?’
Seretse gave him a heavy-eyed stare. ‘I would really prefer that you didn’t.’
‘What can we do for you?’ Nina asked, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couches in one corner. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you until the end of the week.’
‘Something has come up.’ Seretse sat, carefully straightening the trouser creases of his immaculate blue suit before setting his briefcase on the low coffee table and unlocking it. ‘A matter that I think you will agree concerns the IHA.’
Eddie took the place on the adjoining couch beside Nina. ‘Security business?’
‘That is the IHA’s purview, so yes.’ He took out a manila folder. ‘Now, Doct— Nina. How much do you know about Norse mythology?’
‘The basics,’ she answered, curious. ‘I read Beowulf at high school, and Viking history was part of my coursework for a semester as an undergraduate. And there was a degree of crossover when I was doing my research into the various legends of Atlantis, because the Vikings were linked to some of them — although just about every ancient civilisation was linked to Atlantis at one time or another, so the connections were tenuous at best, and as we’ve since found out, they had no basis in fact. But I wouldn’t call myself an expert by any means.’
Seretse nodded. ‘I see. But you have heard of Viking runestones?’
‘Of course. In fact, I know a specialist in them, David Colway. He’s not a full-time member of the IHA, but he’s worked with us before. If you want, I can call him.’
The diplomat firmly shook his head. ‘As I said, this is a security matter. It must remain classified for now.’ He opened the folder and handed her a photograph. ‘This is what has become known as the Valhalla Runestone.’
Nina recognised it immediately. ‘Found last year in Sweden. David actually went over to Stockholm to study it for a few days. Are you sure you don’t want me to bring him in on this?’
‘Absolutely.’
Eddie took a closer look at the photograph. The runestone was a long, rugged slab of moss-covered granite, lying on a cloth-draped bench to allow for detailed examination. A ruler beside it provided scale: it was around seven feet in length, some two feet wide at the base and tapering to half that at the top. The rock was about a foot thick. Line upon line of thin, angular characters had been chiselled into its face, along with patterns and symbols surrounding a circular piece of much darker stone set into a recess some two thirds of the way up it. ‘So what’s so important about it? It doesn’t actually tell you how to find Valhalla, does it?’
He had said it jokingly, but Nina’s reply was serious. ‘Actually… kind of, yes.’
‘What? You’re kidding.’
‘No. If I remember, it supposedly described the route the Vikings would have taken to find it. There was a lot of excitement about it at the time; people were wondering if Valhalla was more than just a legend, like Atlantis. That’s why I asked David to check it out for us.’
‘What did he find?’
‘Nothing concrete — what was written in the runes was too vague. The Swedes are still working on it, but everyone else has pretty much lost interest.’
‘Not everyone,’ said Seretse. ‘Someone is very interested in the runestone. Interested enough to steal it — and to kill for it.’
Nina gasped. ‘What?’
Seretse took out another photograph. This was a wider angle, showing the bench from the previous image in its surroundings, a laboratory.
It was empty.
‘Last night, thieves broke into the Museum of National Antiquities in Stockholm and took the runestone,’ the official told them sonorously. ‘They also shot and killed a security guard.’
‘They stole it?’ Eddie said, looking back at the first photo. ‘Christ, if that thing’s seven feet of solid granite, it must weigh a ton!’
‘Very nearly. Nought-point-nine metric tons, in fact.’
‘They’d need a lot of people to move it.’
‘They had them. They hacked into the security cameras and shut them off before breaking in, but a camera on another building nearby caught them. There were at least eight people involved, probably more.’
‘Why would they steal it?’ Nina wondered. ‘Every inch of it’s been photographed, and all the runes have been translated. Why go to the risk of taking the actual stone when you could just look it up on Google?’
‘That is what the UN would like you to find out,’ said Seretse, straightening. ‘A flight to Stockholm has been arranged for this evening, so you will arrive there tomorrow morning.’
‘What?’ she said, taken aback.
‘Guess we’ll have to tell Matt to take a rain check,’ Eddie muttered.
‘Wait, I don’t understand,’ Nina went on. ‘This is a job for the Stockholm police, not the IHA. What’s it got to do with us?’
Seretse took out a final photo and placed it in front of them. The scene was dark and grainy, a CCTV still taken at night. Several figures wearing black clothing were clustered around a van, features obscured by hoods and caps.
Except one. This particular frame had been singled out because one of the robbers had inadvertently revealed his face, even if only for a fraction of a second. His hood had slipped back as he climbed into the van, exposing his features to the wash of a nearby street light.
Both Nina and Eddie knew him at once.
‘That is what it has to do with the IHA,’ said Seretse, seeing their recognition. ‘The thieves were led by one of your people.’
4
Chase stared up at the slowly turning ceiling fan. ‘Saigon. Shit.’
‘What?’ Castille gave him a bewildered look from his nearby chair. ‘We are not in Saigon. This is Da Nang.’
‘I know, but I always wanted to say that.’ On his friend’s uncomprehending blink, he went on: ‘Come on, Hugo! Apocalypse Now?’
‘Is it?’
Chase snorted and shook his head. ‘You need to watch more movies.’
‘Or you need to watch less.’
They both looked around as the hotel room’s telephone rang. Castille, closest, picked it up. ‘Hello? Yes, we are here… Okay.’ He replaced the receiver. ‘That was Hal. He is with the client in room 503. They are ready to meet us.’
‘About time.’ Chase grunted as he stood, flexing and stretching. The flight from London to Ho Chi Minh City had taken over twelve hours, and then the pair had taken a shuttle flight to the coastal city of Da Nang, more than 500 miles to the north. Even having taken every possible opportunity to sleep during the journey, he was still tired.
The fan did not exactly provide an ice-cold blast, but made enough of a breeze to take the edge off the tropical heat — which returned in full force as Chase and Castille left the room. It was not the first time that Chase had experienced such conditions, but the cloying, humid atmosphere was still far from pleasant. The Belgian also made a disapproving face, dabbing at his neck with a handkerchief. ‘I do not mind a little heat,’ he complained, ‘but this? Ugh!’
‘And I thought London was sweaty,’ Chase agreed as they reached the elevator. A wait for the elderly device to grumble up to their level, then they entered and ascended to the fifth floor. They headed down another sweltering hallway. From the distance between doors, Chase guessed that guests on this floor had suites rather than mere rooms. They stopped at the third door, Castille knocking. A voice from inside told them to enter.