T is for Temptation (52 page)

Before Jake opened the pirate’s chest, Alex phoned Arthur Flood and told him what had happened. They agreed to all meet at the US Embassy in the city. Arthur intended to secure the visitor’s apartment suite on the top floor of the building for them.

Tiny hated the car. He held onto the door handle with a death grip. As they picked up speed, his normally bronzed cheeks drained of color, and his knuckles pinched white around the plastic knob. He mumbled under his breath and stared straight ahead, not answering any of their queries. He didn’t even respond when Alex shook him.

As soon as they were on the road, Tee spoke, “I saw the man from the plane, Jake, the man who gave the order to drug me. He was on the news. He’s Baron Constantine.”

“What?” Jake barked. He shot her a hard stare, lips tightening into a tight line. “Damn it. What the hell are we involved in?”

“What man?” Alex asked.

“Tee, explain about the plane, and Alex, call Flood as soon as she’s finished and tell him about Constantine.”

When she finished her explanation, Alex said, “This ties Inspector Flood in, Jake. He worked directly for
Constantine
, has been on loan to Interpol from the Met for the last four years.”

“You’re right, buddy. It does explain his involvement, but how does
Constantine
fit in? He’s the top of the ladder for Europol and Interpol’s financial fraud department.” Jake and Alex’s eyes met across the gear stick divide. “You what this means, don’t you?”

“Corruption’s rampant, maybe in both organizations. Arthur’s going to be pissed.” Alex whipped his phone out and dialed a number.

“Are you sure that
Constantine
is the same man from the plane?” Jake asked, meeting Tee’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not likely to forget him.”

“Want me to stop, babe? You’re as pale as a ghost.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just get us to the safe apartment as soon as possible.”

Alex snapped his phone shut.

“What did he have to say?” Jake asked.

“He’s shocked, naturally, and dismayed. If his nephew and Constantine are in cahoots, every individual in that combined task force is suspect. Arthur said the whole organization goes into lockdown mode immediately. Local police officers are waiting for us at the embassy.”

The conversation finally roused Tiny from his trance. “What are you saying?” he asked.

It took them the whole journey to explain everything to him. As they neared their destination, Alex and Jake both cautioned Tiny about his behavior and warned him not to appear too curious. They also suggested he remain quiet whenever possible.

Security to enter the building proved multileveled and vigilant, first a series of metal detectors machine, a handbag check for Tee, and an armed escort to the elevator. Finally, they were ensconced in the safety of the US Embassy’s visitor’s suite, a three-bedroom affair with a combined dining-living room area off a separate efficiency kitchen.

Henry greeted them at the door.

“Tee, honey.” He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. “Thank God you’re safe.”

“How come you’re here, Dad?”

“With this news about
Constantine
, Arthur wants us all in one place so he can concentrate security.”

“Did you finish the translation?” Sir Arthur entered the room and went directly to Tiny.

He shook his head and lifted his hand, displaying four sheets of paper.

Sir Arthur clapped him on the bicep. “Get to it then, young man.” He waved at an escritoire in the corner of the room. “Set up there. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

Tiny lowered himself into a wooden chair behind the small mahogany desk, which appeared doll-sized in comparison to his massive frame. He focused on his task, oblivious to his audience.

Jake herded Henry over to the fireplace. He motioned for Tee to follow. When she joined them, he draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close.

“Henry, while we were away, I asked Tee to marry me. She said yes.” He beamed at his future father-in-law.

“Honey, is this what you want?” Her father’s watery brown eyes glistened, and his voice wavered.

She couldn’t get a word out, too teary to manage anything but a nod.

“Then, m’boy, I couldn’t be happier for both of you.” Henry embraced Jake. “My God, you do know what you’re in for, don’t you? Between Tricia and Tee, you’ll be up to your knees in wedding plans. I’d make it a very short engagement if I were you.”

Sir Arthur joined them. “I’m pleased I was able to secure this location so quickly. The US Embassy is possibly one of the safest buildings in the city. After 9/11, it was completely overhauled and reinforced. I’m certain you’ll be safe here. Do not leave the building. If you need anything from the outside, call me, or ring downstairs to the embassy. Ask for the ambassador’s executive assistant. She’ll handle any requests.”

“Do you think
Constantine
is the brains behind this whole operation?”

“We’ve uncovered significant information since I last saw you, Jake. Sit, everyone. This will take some time.”

“I’m starving,” Alex stated. “Anyone up for pizza?”

“Good idea. We could all use something to eat. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.

“I have some phone calls to make,” Flood said. “Why don’t you order the food and freshen up while we await its arrival? I’ll make my calls from the kitchen so as to not disturb Gratnach.”

“I think a 747 could roll through the place, and Tiny wouldn’t notice,” Alex muttered, waving a hand in the giant’s direction as he hunched over the desk, ignoring them altogether.

The doorbell rang a half an hour later. Tee answered it and let in two men. Each bore several large green-and-white boxes with the words
Luciano’s Pizza
printed across the top. Another man followed with a tray of plastic cups and a couple of paper bags.

Hair still damp from his shower, Jake dug into his back pocket, took out his wallet, pulled out a couple of notes and tipped the three men, and then Tee let them out.

The aromas of yeasty dough, pepperoni, tomato sauce, and oozing cheese made her stomach list. When Jake opened the boxes, the scents intensified, and her appetite vanished under a wave of queasiness.

Tiny stood up. He licked his lips and moved over to stand beside her. “’Tis a strange sort of bread.”

“Trust me, Gratnach, you’ll like it.” Alex cuffed Tiny hard on the shoulder.

Tiny punched him hard on the bicep.

“Stop it, you two,” Tee scolded.

Muttering, the two men moved to opposite ends of the dining room table and snagged slices onto plates.

The giant took a cautious bite of a pizza slice, and his face lit, pale brown eyebrows dancing to the ceiling. He hogged a whole pie, encircling one box with his cantaloupe-sized biceps. Declaring pizza a slice of heaven, he chugged down the Coke, and pronounced it better than wine, but not near as wonderful as ale.

Tee found a small salad and nibbled at it.

As soon as the pizza disappeared, Tiny went back to work.

Arthur walked into the living area, snapping his phone shut.

“I’ve finished the translation,” Tiny announced.

Everyone gathered around him at the table.

“The Arabic dialect points to an ancient poem, ‘To Taher Ben Hosein,’ which refers to a pair of right hands and a single dim eye.” Tiny pointed to the four lines of English on the page.

“Here.” One thick forefinger tapped the line in question. ”The poem suggests changing a hand to an eye in order to change a monster into a man.”

They read the words.

To Taher Ben Hosein

A pair of right hands and a single dim eye Must form not a man, but a monster, they cry: Change a hand to an eye, good Taher, if you can, And a monster perhaps may be chang'd to man.

“And this is relevant because?” Alex lifted one eyebrow.

“The algebraic formula on the paper is based on the sexagesimal system.”

“What’s that?” Tee struggled to follow Tiny’s reasoning, knuckling the side of her head where her temples throbbed.

“’Tis a numeric system based on the number sixty. When I resolved the formula, this,” Tiny said as he underlined a series of numbers, “is the answer. Then to change a hand to an eye, I divide these numbers by two.” He covered his mouth with his hand and yawned.

“Why by two, Tiny?” Tee stared from the blue ink to the gentle Goliath.

“A pair of right hands,” Tiny elucidated. “Two.”

“So this is the passcode numero uno?” Alex asked. “Don’t we need another and an optical ID?”

“Hell, Alex I never expected we’d get the first one.” Jake scrutinized the original script. “You know, while I’m no expert on Arabic, some of this script doesn’t look right.”

“’Tis an excellent observation, Laird. Every word is scrambled. In each one, the first three symbols are early Persian Sanskrit, while the third is sourced differently for each word, all from ancient Oriental languages. I identified a combination of Kanji and
Katanga
dialects.”

“Huh? What on earth are you talking about?”

“Alas, pretty boy, you need a bigger brain. Here, in the first word, the first two letters are Sanskrit or Persian Arabic. The third letter is Kanji, which is an ancient Oriental language. In this second word, the pattern is repeated, but instead of using a Kanji letter, a
Katanga
one is used.”

“And this is relevant because?”

“Och, pretty boy, the man who wrote this has a sounder knowledge of ancient script than I, and I suspect the Sanskrit is not his native tongue, but mayhap the
Katanga
dialect.”

“Whoever wrote this is Oriental? Wonderful. We find one of the passcodes, and now not only do we have
Afghanistan
,
Antigua
,
Uruguay
, and
Trinidad
in the mix, we now have to add the Orient.” Jake slouched down in the couch and thunked the heels of his Timberlands onto the carpet.

“Give me a few minutes to get this dispatched, and then I’ll update you on recent events.” Flood disappeared into the kitchen, and everyone else settled in the living room.

“Does it all feel unreal to you?” Tee asked Jake as he pulled her closer to him on the couch. “My ordinary world’s been turned upside down and inside out since the day I met Tony.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yeah, but I got you out of it. That’s all that counts.”

“You’re turning into one romantic hunk, Jake Mathews.”

“When do you want to get married?” He caressed her cheek with the back of one hand, and she leaned into his warm touch. “Any possibility of eloping?”

“I can see from your face you already know the answer to that one,” she replied, cutting him a rueful smile. “Only daughter of the president of
Trinidad and Tobago
eloping? Not a chance, darling. My mother would never let me hear the end of it. Three months?”

“Three months.” Plaintive dismay flattened his mouth.

Tee yawned, her mind going into shutdown mode. “I can’t keep my eyes open a minute longer.” She smiled up at him and then surveyed the others. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’m off to bed.”