Deity (5 page)

Peet
obliged as Frederico lounged on a small leather sofa nearby, leaving an airy
expanse settling between them. He rocked onto one hip, crossed his legs and
draped an arm across the back of the sofa. The warm glint of his smile had not
yet faded.

“How
is it possible the Effigy was stolen?” Peet asked. “I thought the museum had
all the latest security systems.”

Frederico
nodded glumly. Peet could read lines of embarrassment etching the otherwise
flawless features of the curator’s face. “We have all the state of the art
technology at our disposal,” he said heavily. “The museum is impenetrable without
the codes to bypass those systems.”

“John
has access to your security codes?”

“Not
all of them. When we agreed to let him stay as director of the Toltec exhibit,
I assigned him key codes to the employee entrance, an access card to the
archives and the security code for the Aztec Room.”

“Why
would you give him the security code?”

“John
was conducting his own independent research on the Effigy, exploring
alternative explanations for its deposit in Utah.”

That
sounded suspicious. For months immediately following the excavation of the
Effigy, John had had ample opportunity to study it. In fact, he was the first
to publish his own conclusions on the subject—satisfied that the Effigy had
been traded out of Mexico
to the Anasazi culture of the Southwest. And even if he had abandoned his own
trade theory to explore other explanations, it wasn’t like John to overstep his
research privileges.

“Did
he mention taking his research back to the field?” Peet asked.

As
much as it had comforted Martha, Peet doubted his own justification for John’s
removal of the Effigy. John wouldn’t have taken it into the field. That made as
much sense as taking the golden mask of King Tut back to the tomb. It just
wouldn’t be done, and Frederico confirmed his doubts.

“
No, senor
,” the curator said with a
chuckle. “He claims to be too old for the field. However, he requested free
access to the artifact and I had no reason to deny him so long as he removed
the Effigy from its exhibit after hours. Furthermore, it was agreed upon that
the Effigy should never leave the premises.”

“How
often did he inspect the Effigy?”

“Never.
Not once did he require a physical
inspection, but I gave him access should he desire it.”

“Then why now?”

“This
I cannot say.”

Peet
shook his head. “I just can’t believe John would take the Effigy without
clearing it with you first.”

“I
could not believe this either, but it cannot be disputed that John’s key codes
were entered into the security system during the time of the theft.”

Peet
leaned forward, propping his elbows upon his knees and shaking his head in
disbelief. “This just doesn’t sound like John. The very idea of stealing an
artifact goes against every moral fiber of his being. Is it possible someone
else could have used his security pass to get to the Effigy?”

Frederico
didn’t bother to shrug. His eyes never even shifted in thought. By his steady
pose there on the couch Peet could tell the man had already examined that
possibility. “Someone could have used his security pass, maybe,” Frederico began.
“But they would also need his entrance key, not to mention the pass codes to
the Aztec Room and the Effigy’s display case, all of which require different
passwords. Yet, all were breached by someone who knew every code. Someone could
have come across one of his codes, but not all of them.”

“John
wouldn’t be that careless,” Peet agreed.

“There’s
something else.”

Peet
straightened, waiting for the curator to continue.

“Two
of our security cameras caught John in the act.”

Peet’s
stomach sank like a lead weight. Regrettably, he asked, “May I see the tapes?”

“Of course.”

Without
so much as uncrossing his legs, the curator removed a remote from a slot in the
wall cubby above his head. He did this without disturbing the assorted terra
cotta figurines displayed there. It was a well rehearsed motion and Peet
suddenly pictured Frederico spending hours on that couch, remote in hand,
watching who-knows-what on the forty-two inch TV hidden within the decorative
cabinet behind his desk. With a push of a button, the front panel opened and
the TV glowed to life. Another
button,
and the digital
machine spun images from a security camera onto the screen.

“Camera
twelve is the closest to the Effigy display,” Frederico narrated. “You can see
John bypassing the code here and then…here you can plainly see him removing the
artifact.”

Peet
watched the thief at work, recognizing immediately that the image was visually
hindered by the exhibit room’s dim after-hours lighting. But even if the
security lighting had been alerted by the intruder, the thief never gave the
camera a clear view of his face. Nevertheless, the thief’s body frame and
movements were all too familiar. Peet could recognize that shadowy figure
anywhere.

It
had to be John.

As
Peet watched John leave the Aztec Room, the screen cut away from camera twelve
and smoothly transitioned to another camera that had picked him up.

“This
is camera three,” Frederico explained. “It sits just above the reception desk
at the main entrance. Granted, the view is more distant than the last camera,
but you can clearly see John leaving the museum with something bulky beneath
his arm. No doubt it has to be the Effigy.”

The
video ended and Frederico turned off the TV. Peet was stumped. Surely there
must be some reasonable explanation.

“What
about guards?” he asked. “Weren’t there any guards?”

Frederico
nodded. “We have two night guards. One posted at the main entrance and the
other patrols the exhibits.”

“Did
either of them see anything?”

“John
timed his theft well, which raises my suspicions about his motives. He acted when
the front guard stepped away to use the restroom. The second guard was
patrolling the Maya Room at the time. But there is more.”

Frederico
rose from the sofa and with a flick of his finger, motioned Peet to follow him.
Together, they stepped out of the office and swept around the main hall,
avoiding the visitors as they strolled from one display to another. Frederico
led the way through a glass door that opened to a tranquil outdoor patio
complete with bronze statues and decorative flowers centered
around
a gazing pool shaded by a large concrete canopy.

Across
the patio, they re-entered the museum at the Aztec Room. They passed jade
figurines and terra cotta pottery and even crossed in front of the monolithic
Aztec sunstone, an artifact that, until six months ago, Peet had known very
little about.

They
entered the Toltec exhibit where Frederico finally stopped. “Do you see
anything familiar, Dr. Peet?”

Peet
quickly scanned the room. He didn’t notice it right away, not until a family of
Asian visitors stepped away from the central display. Peet recognized the
location from the security camera’s footage, but more importantly, he recognized
the dragon-shaped head there on display.

“The Effigy?”

In
long, consuming strides he stepped up to the glass display case fashioned to an
elaborate pedestal in the center of the room. The magnificent luster of
polished jade and turquoise glinted like crown jewels within the thick glass
casing. Deep, dark obsidian pupils winked within mother-of-pearl eye inserts. The
dragon snarled at him with matched mother-of-pearl teeth.

Peet
spun back to the curator. “Is this a replica?”

Frederico
smiled and shook his head. “No. This is the real thing. It was returned to us
just yesterday.”

“I
don’t understand.”

“The
Archbishop of the Metropolitan Cathedral discovered it in one of the chapels,
just before Sunday’s Mass.”

Peet
was dumbfounded. “This doesn’t make any sense. John wouldn’t leave a valuable
artifact in a cathedral. He’s not even Catholic.”

“Whatever
the motives, we lucked out that the Effigy was returned to us unharmed.”

“And John?”

“He
remains missing. We have not heard a word from him, but we had not expected to
either.”

“Why
do you say that?”

“He
was taking a month off. He said he wanted to spend the holidays with his wife,
back home in Utah.”

Metropolitan Cathedral

Peet
was at a total loss when he slipped into his rental car and pulled away from
the museum. Nothing made sense. John may have removed the effigy but how or why
it ended up in the cathedral was a mystery. No harm no foul, he guessed. That
probably explained the FBI’s lack of secrecy in their investigation.

But
where was John? Peet quickly checked his cell phone. There were no missed
calls. Evidently, John hadn’t returned home yet. Martha swore on her death bed
that she’d call the minute he showed up. Peet was worried. If John wasn’t home
and if he wasn’t on some dig someplace, where could he be?

He
knew of only one other place to check.

* * * *

Churches
had a way of intimidating Peet. He hadn’t stepped inside a sanctuary since the
day he married Cathy. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what exactly
repelled him from them. Perhaps it was the ritual of it all. After all, Peet
was as fluid in worship as a dancer with two left feet. Perhaps the very idea
of stepping inside a holy place held him back—he being a man who’d desecrated a
number of ancient holy places in the name of archaeology. Even he could sense
the hypocrisy in that.

There
was also a touch of irony in his current situation. He’d always found his late
wife’s neighborhood church daunting and yet, now he was about to stroll right
through the opulent baroque doors of Mexico
City’s Metropolitan Cathedral. The difference was his
motive. Here he was at work, and work always made him more comfortable.

The
cathedral was a Renaissance, Baroque and Neo-classic conglomerate, attesting to
the centuries it took to complete it. Its towering spires and severe bell
towers loomed over the Zócalo, creating an elegant profile intended to impress
the most jaded of sinners. Maybe that was the point, he thought. Such extreme
architecture could only serve to inspire, to lure, to offer a taste of heavenly
wonders.

If
the exterior was a mere taste, the interior was a lavishing feast. Peet
followed a group of ogling tourists through the great portal of the main facade
where statues of saints and the Virgin Mary lifted the eyes toward the extravagant
clock tower, itself dominated by supreme bell towers from either side. Inside,
Peet was struck by the openness and the religious grandeur that assaulted his
vision.

While
crowds of visitors stammered toward the lofty gilded altars of the central
nave, Peet couldn’t help but stop and appreciate the robust columns and
cascading chandeliers, all ornately decorated with detail upon detail that
spilled onto the walls and archways of the interior. The cathedral didn’t just
contain art, it was art itself.

“
Profesor
?”

Peet
turned to find a little Mexican priest with hair as black as his clergy suit
approaching. He had a round, imp-like face with a somber undertone, but his
eyes were bright and welcoming. “My name is Father Miguel Hernandez Ruiz,” he
said in surprisingly fluent English. “Thank you for giving us time to prepare
to receive you.”

“I
hope you don’t mind. Mr. Espanoza gave me your number.”

The
priest smiled. “We are happy to oblige. You can imagine our surprise when we
discovered the artifact. Please, follow me. I will show you where it was
found.”

Peet
turned and followed him down the eastern nave of the cathedral where the sunlight
poured through the domed ceiling, highlighting the olive triangular accents
above. They passed one gaping chapel alcove after another until half-way down
the hall Father Ruiz led Peet through a red velvet rope strung across the nave
to prevent visitors from going any further.

A
little ways beyond they approached a small chapel with one immediate difference
from the others. Its dim portal was enclosed with a heavy metal grill spanning
from the immaculate floor to the blocky stone arch high above their heads. The
top of the arch was extravagantly detailed with spires and flowing metalwork of
its own.

“This
is the Chapel of Christ of the Conquistadors,” Father Ruiz explained,
unlatching the
iron gate
within the grill and
permitting Peet to step inside the dim interior.

The
room was dominated by a large Baroque altarpiece intricately carved with
alternating foliage and angels. Small sculptures of saints occupied the
chapel’s numerous niches with various images of Christ and paintings of martyred
saints scattered throughout. The
chapel’s
only light
came from a small window above the altar, which left many details masked in
shadow, including those of a secondary altar standing along the right wall.