Castro Directive (36 page)

In the pale light, the place looked like something out of a fairy tale. He almost expected elves or gnomes or the ghost of Ed Leedskalnin to dance out of the shadows. But the castle remained silent and still. To his right, the silhouettes of the coral rock moon, Saturn, and Mars seemed suspended above the wall like astrological symbols carved into the night sky. To his left, the tower loomed, a sentry in the moon glow.

"Hurry up," Elise called to him from the shadows below. He shifted around until he faced the wall, lowered himself, and dropped to the ground. He brushed the gritty coral rock from his pants and asked Elise if she was all right.

"Fine. Let's get this over with." She handed him the pack and as they headed across the moon-washed courtyard, the great hulking shapes seemed to press in on him, quivering with a life of their own, whispering of the past. He felt like a dwarf in a land peopled by alien giants who were shaped like coral furniture, and imagined that on certain nights they came awake and communed among themselves, laughing and dancing. As they passed the valentine-shaped stone table, a breeze strummed the branches of the trees in the courtyard. In his mind, its melody became the soft, pathetic moans of Ed's broken heart.

When they reached the altar, he shrugged off his backpack. Even though Elise had enthusiastically told him about her numerous archaeological digs, he knew that her help in moving the blocks was going to be limited. He just hoped he had enough strength to do it. But the first task was removing the cement filling between the blocks.

Pierce shone his flashlight over the altar, paused a moment on the bubbling water, then moved the beam upward along the vertical surface until he reached the face made of shells. The white eyes stared back at him, giving no hint of what might lie hidden within the fountain. He tracked downward again, directing the light along the cemented area between the rocks. "Keep it pointed right there," he said, handing the flashlight to Elise.

He slipped on a pair of goggles after taking out a mallet and chisel from the pack and stabbed the chisel at the cracked joint. It stuck like a knife in melon. "See how weak it is? This'll be easy."

Her face was in shadow above him, but he could sense her unease. "Let's just get on with it."

Pierce struck the chisel squarely with the mallet. It sank several inches as bits of concrete flashed through the light. He wrenched it free and struck the joint again, then again. After several strokes the chisel wedged solidly into the crack, and he couldn't pull it out. "Shit, I can't get a grip."

"How about the crowbar?"

"Good idea." He took out the bar and, using the vertical block for leverage, loosened the chisel.

He resumed the tedious pounding, chipping away at the joint. When he finally stopped to catch his breath, he examined the opening he'd created. Several narrow bridges of concrete still connected the two blocks of coral rock. "This will just take another minute or two."

"Then what?" Elise asked as she stooped over and examined his work.

"Then I'll move the rear slab away from the front one. That way we don't have to mess with the lead pipes that go down to the spring."

Pierce picked up the crowbar and attacked the remaining links of concrete. When the two rocks were parted, he dropped the crowbar. "Okay, here goes."

He pressed his shoulder against the upright block of rock.

It stood over five-feet tall and was about two feet in thickness, but wider at the base. He strained and groaned and pushed, and slowly the rock edged backward.

"Jesus," he said when he stopped to rest after barely budging it. He'd been worried about tipping it over and shattering it and possibly destroying the skull, but that didn't seem likely now. "I wish I knew what old Ed's secret was. This is like moving a refrigerator filled with rocks."

"Better you than me. I'm going to go up to the tower and take a look around. Make sure everything's okay."

"Watch out for ghosts."

"Right," she said and headed off.

Pierce continued battling with the block of stone, fighting for every inch. Once, he stopped and looked over his shoulder and saw Elise's moonlit face in the tower window.

Now and then he thought he heard noises behind him and his head snapped back, eyes roaming across the colossal structures. But, of course, nothing was there. Nothing but the coral mammoths communing in the night.

When he'd moved the block more than a foot, he knelt down to look inside. He patted the ground for the flashlight, but realized Elise had taken it. "Shit." He glanced up at the tower to signal her, but she wasn't in the window.

He jogged across the plaza to the steps of the tower and called her name in a harsh whisper. No answer.
What the hell.
Only the vast silence, the dark, and an uneasy something that bristled in the air. He called her name again, louder this time.

He tensed as a shadow filled the doorway, then Elise was flying down the steps, her hair a dark penumbra around her head. He grabbed hold of her hand. "What's going on? What happened?"

She sucked in a deep breath, tipped her head toward the tower. "Nick, I swear that hanging bed started swinging by itself. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I couldn't move. I couldn't even turn on the flashlight. It was like ol' Ed was lying there watching me."

Like the furniture watches me, he thought. "C'mon. You just got spooked."

"No, it was like I was. . . I don't know. I was overcome by this forlorn feeling. God, it was so creepy."

"You see anything else around of a more substantial nature?"

"Nothing. How's it going?"

"Let's take a look with the flashlight."

When they reached the fountain, Pierce dropped down on his hands and knees as Elise shone the beam on the inner surfaces of both coral blocks. He'd hoped to see a hollow space in one of them and the crystal skull resting there, waiting to be rediscovered. But he couldn't see anything except the rough coral surface.

"Nothing," he said.

"Try opening it a little further so we can work inside. Maybe the hole has been covered and we can't see it yet."

He gripped the upright block of coral with both hands and pressed his chest to it again. Rocking back and forth, he nudged it inch by inch until the space between the block had expanded to about eighteen inches. He stepped back, caught his breath. In spite of the gloves, the palms of his hands were bruised and scraped from the sharp coral rock. He took a swallow from the canteen of water he'd brought along, then held it out to Elise.

She shook her head, and instead crawled as far as she could into the opening and closely surveyed the inner surfaces with the flashlight beam.

"See anything?"

She was quiet a moment, then backed out. She shook her head. "It doesn't look promising."

"Damn, it's got to be here." Pierce picked up the crowbar and jabbed it at random against the rock surfaces inside the opening. Chips of rock ricocheted about, and the resounding thud of each thrust echoed across the courtyard. Elise grabbed him by the shoulder. "Nick, you're making too much noise."

He stepped back, frustrated, and hurled the crowbar into the ground between the two blocks. "Christ, what a fucking waste of time."

But Elise ignored him. She was staring at the crowbar. It had penetrated the ground and was standing upright. She loosened it and scraped at the dirt, then stabbed, digging a hole several inches deep.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Didn't you hear the guide today? There's hardly any ground soil around here, except in the garden where it's been added. The coral rock bed should be right near the surface, but it's not."

"Maybe dirt was added here, too."

She took several more jabs. "My guess is that the coral bed has been hollowed out and covered."

"Let me see."

"Be careful, and stop if you hit anything." She handed him the crowbar, and he gouged at the ground for a couple of minutes until the hole was almost a foot deep. "I think you're right, and the one thing I didn't bring was a shovel."

"We'll have to do our best."

The dirt from the hole quickly formed a small mound beside the altar. They took turns working the earth with the crowbar and chisel and carrying it out by the handful. The hole was elbow-deep when Pierce struck something. He reached down and scraped with his finger.

"Shit," Pierce muttered.

"What is it?" She dropped down to his side.

"That's it. I hit rock."

But Elise was unperturbed. "Then we've just got to widen it more. Dig toward the fountain, underneath the block."

Pierce nodded and redirected his blows. They switched places a couple more times—until one of Pierce's thrusts struck a solid surface again. "Ah, Christ. More rock."

He dropped the crowbar and backed out. Elise moved into his place and reached into the opening. He wondered how much longer they should stay. The bars closed in a few minutes, and the cop would be due.

"Nick, it's not rock. It's smooth and flat. It feels like metal."

"A pipe?" He slipped his hand deep into the hole. He clawed at the dirt until he could feel more of the smooth surface. Then he touched something else.

"I think it's a metal case. I feel a latch."

They took turns working with the chisel, loosening the dirt around the container, scooping it out. After a few minutes, Pierce's fingers found something new. "I've got a handle, a leather grip."

"Good. We've got to hurry."

He scraped away the dirt. "I'm going to pull it out." Just as he spoke, he tumbled backward, the rotted leather strap in his hand.

Elise couldn't help laughing.

"Hey, what if I had landed on the crowbar. . . or hit my head on the chisel?"

"You didn't, though."

"I think I loosened it."

He reached into the hole again, pressing his face against the coral block. "I've got my hand under it. It's moving. Give me the crowbar."

He slid the hooked end of the bar underneath the case and managed to get one of the prongs against the back side. He pulled, and the metal case slid forward to the lip of the hole. He grasped it with both hands. "Gotcha."

Elise brushed dirt from the box as Pierce set it on the ground. "I sure hope you're what we think you are," he announced to the box.

"Let's open it," Elise said.

He glanced around, feeling uneasy. "No. Let's get out of here."

"You're right. It's late. Besides, we should open it with Bill. It's only fair."

"Let's go out the revolving door," Pierce said as he scooped up his tools and tossed them into the backpack. "It'll be easier."

They crossed the courtyard, glancing one more time at the coral monsters. Pierce bent down as they reached the door. "That's odd. No wedge."

He stood up and pushed the door. It wouldn't budge. It felt as if the wedge was on the wrong side.

"Hold it!" a voice shouted sharply from behind him. Oh, God, the cop, he thought. He heard the click of a gun, turned, peered into the gloom. For a moment he didn't see anything. Then a figure stepped out from the shadow of a herculean-sized chair.

"Evening, Nick. And if it isn't Lisie playing in the dirt."

"Steve, what the hell are you doing here?" Elise demanded.

"Oh, I don't know. Just out for a little fun. What're you doing? Archaeological stuff, huh?"

"None of your business. Just leave me alone."

Fat chance of that, Pierce thought, eyeing the sleek, deadly Mach 10 under his arm.

'Fraid I can't do that, Lisie. By the way, you can call me Thor tonight, sweetheart."

Pierce heard a creak of gears and turned his head as the revolving stone door opened and a familiar hulking figure stepped inside. No wonder the door wouldn't move, he thought.

"Hello, Nick," K.J. said, speaking casually, as if he's always voiced his greetings. He aimed a .357 at Pierce and grinned. "You can call me Frey."

"R
eal careful now, Pierce. I want you to lay that box on the ground," Simms said, pointing the machine pistol at the metallic case. "Then the pack."

Pierce glanced between the two men. There wasn't much he could do but follow orders. Besides being armed, both were enormous, muscular men. A corrupt lawyer and a fake mute. What a pair.

"Get over to the wall and put your hands against it," Thor ordered, prodding the Mach 10 at him, and Pierce moved.

"You, too, Lisie."

"How did you know we were here, Steve?" she asked, holding her ground.

"Just a simple directional microphone outside the house this morning," he answered. "You said it all. Now get over to the wall."

"Why're you doing this?" If she was afraid of him, her voice didn't reveal it.

"I'm disappointed in you, Lisie," he said, disregarding her question. "I really am. Trespassing, breaking and entering, destroying private property, and theft. Shame on you."

"Cut the crap, Steve. You're crooked. You're working for Raymond Andrews. You've lost all sense of what's right and decent. You're not the person I married. You're a monster."