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Authors: Lindy Cameron

Tags: #Crime Fiction, #Adventure, #Museum

Golden Relic (28 page)

BOOK: Golden Relic
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"I did not mean to mislead you Detective, but the fact that I am Peruvian was not relevant to
your investigation. Keeping my nationality a secret was, however, important to my own work."

"Why?" Maggie laughed. "Don't tell us Marcus has something against Peruvian curators."

"No, but he may not have hired me as his curator if he knew I was a Peruvian policeman."

Maggie stared at Vasquez as if he'd just admitted to being a Martian, while Sam thought she heard
several pins drop in the ensuing silence.

"Are you saying you're a cop, not a curator?" Sam finally asked.

"I am fully qualified in both fields, Detective. But I would have to say I am more of a spy than
a cop. My job is not dissimilar to yours with your Government's Cultural Affairs Department."

"I am not a spy," Sam pronounced.

"I'm aware of that. I merely meant that the department I work for is concerned with cultural
affairs, specifically our stolen cultural heritage."

"Enrico," Maggie said impatiently, "please stop talking in circles and tell us why you were
following us, or Sam will take you back to that alley."

Sam gave Maggie a look that said, 'oh sure, me and whose army?' Vasquez just smiled.

"I am an undercover operative for my government's Heritage Retrieval Department," he said. "It is
my job to track down any Peruvian cultural property held by foreign institutions. This is no small
task, as many museums do not know exactly what they have. I have found things, of historical
significance to us, just lying around in dusty storerooms or mislabelled in forgotten display cases.
Even with modern technology it could take decades for them to catalogue their collections and, in
the meantime, curators like your friend Professor Marsden and all those other 'dedicated collectors'
are retiring or dying off. No disrespect intended," Vasquez said, holding up his hands. "But when
these old experts are gone, so much more will be lost to us. These people have been
accumulating…"

"Enrico, we don't need a lecture," Maggie remarked.

"Forgive me, it is not often I get to speak of my real job."

"What do you do with all this information you collect?" Sam asked.

"Add it to an inventory of the artefacts and few remaining treasures of my country held by
foreign museums. I have been using exhibitions like Marcus's as a cover for nearly 15 years."

"Why all the secrecy?" Sam asked. "Why can't you just rock up to the Museum of Victoria, flash
your credentials and say 'show me what you've got'?"

"If it were only that easy," Vasquez sighed, lighting another cigarette. "But I have no more
authority in your country than you do here, Detective."

"I wasn't talking about your police badge," Sam said. "If you're respected enough in your other
job to have been curating exhibitions all over the world then surely, just out of professional
courtesy, the museums you've been visiting would provide you with the information you're seeking.
It's my understanding that most institutions these days are in favour of the repatriation of
cultural material. It's even on the agenda for ICOM '98."

"The fact that it is on the agenda as an issue to be resolved indicates just how widely the
concept of de-accessioning is actually accepted."

"He's quite right, Sam," Maggie commented. "It may be generally accepted as the right thing to
do, but there are some things that some museums will never want to give back."

"And, as I said before Detective Diamond, many museums do not know what they have, and some of
their curators would like to keep it that way. My concern is with those items that are not on
display or already part of a public claim or dispute."

"Like the what's-a-name bracelet that Maggie was mediating in Paris," Sam suggested vaguely.

"Exactly," Vasquez said, his face registering amusement rather than surprise at the suggestion.
"We knew where that artefact was and were already negotiating its return, so it was not part of my
inventory or of concern to my department - until it was stolen, of course."

"What do you do with this inventory?" Maggie asked.

"My colleagues in Heritage Retrieval use my information to begin negotiations with foreign
museums for the return of items that belong to us. This approach is occasionally successful but not
often enough, so we sometimes employ other tactics."

"Like what?" Maggie asked carefully, as if she already had an inkling of his answer.

"My department sometimes sends in extraction agents," Vasquez stated.

"Extraction agents?" Sam queried. "What…"

"Burglars, " Maggie explained. "He means they send in burglars."

"You make a list of things and then you steal them?" Sam was incredulous.

"I only make the inventory, Detective. My colleagues 'retrieve' that which was stolen from us."

"Good grief," Sam said and glanced at Maggie. "You don't seem surprised."

"Oh I am," Maggie assured her. "There have been rumours going around for years about the
existence of so-called Relic Recovery Teams. They were blamed every time there was an otherwise
unexplained break-in at a museum. It's also a standing joke when pens or staplers go missing from
our desks that an RRT must be responsible."

Vasquez laughed heartily. "I would like to point out Maggie," he said, "that we are not the only
ones who do this. Most countries that have had their culture plundered by foreigners have a secret
Retrieval Department of some kind, and employ agents to reacquire their property."

"If it's secret, Señor Vasquez, why are you telling us? You must realise you have just put the
kibosh on your career as a spy."

Vasquez shrugged. "A recent promotion means I am no longer a field agent. And my government will,
naturally, deny all knowledge of what I have just told you, so the information is useless."

"That means," Sam said thoughtfully, suddenly suspicious of Vasquez's whole story, "that you
can't prove anything that you've just told us."

"You are correct. The nature of my work would necessitate a denial of my existence as well."

"Enrico, you didn't hijack the Tahuantinsuyu Bracelet did you?" Maggie asked.

Vasquez laughed. "No Maggie, I did not. I was in Melbourne at the time. And I swear that neither
my department nor my government was responsible. But the theft of the Tahuantinsuyu Bracelet is the
reason I am here - following you."

Maggie looked meaningfully at Sam who obligingly turned to Vasquez with a puzzled frown. "Does
this bracelet have any special significance?" Sam asked.

Vasquez threw his hands out, "It belongs to us," he declared. "The Chileans had it and refused to
return it, now some unknown person has it. I intend to get it back."

"What makes you think we know anything about it?" Maggie asked, trying to look perplexed.

"A curious set of circumstances led me to believe that you were on the trail of the
hijackers."

"What circumstances?" Maggie snorted.

"Firstly, the disagreement that Professor Marsden and I had on the day of his death," Vasquez
said. "As I explained to you Detective Diamond, that conversation was quite heated because Marsden
and I held completely opposite views regarding the return of cultural property. When I brought up
the subject of the Tahuantinsuyu Bracelet, however, the Professor suddenly became agitated, even
angry. He said he had no desire to continue the debate. Then he left the building."

"Why did you mention the bracelet?" Sam asked.

"It was topical," Vasquez shrugged. "Everyone knew Maggie was in Paris mediating the dispute."

"Lloyd often just walked away from things he could no longer be bothered with," Maggie said.

Vasquez nodded. "At the time, I thought that was the case. In retrospect I realised he had
reacted specifically to my mention of the bracelet."

"So?" Sam asked. "Maybe the dedicated collector was sick of having the topic thrown at him."

"Possibly, but the very next morning," Vaquez said, "I learned that the Tahuantinsuyu Bracelet
had been stolen. Later that day I discover, when you bring me in for questioning, that Marsden had
been murdered. Two days later you, Maggie, arrive in Melbourne fresh from your mediation of the
'Inca trinket fiasco', and three days after that you both leave the country. This to me is very odd
when you at least, Detective Diamond, are supposed to be investigating a murder."

"Señor Vasquez you cannot possibly have any idea what I am supposed to be doing."

"Granted. Does that mean I am right then? You are on the trail of the hijackers."

"We are not," Maggie stated emphatically. "And I really wish people would stop putting my name
and that 'incident' in the same sentence, as if I am responsible for it," she complained.

"I am investigating Professor Marden's murder," Sam said, "so it's beyond me why you think these
apparently unrelated events mean we were looking for a stolen bracelet."

"I do not like coincidences," Vasquez pronounced.

"I don't know anyone who does," Sam laughed. "But let me try and figure out a possible scenario
for your logic here. After thinking about this 'curious set of circumstances' you decide, perhaps,
that Professor Marsden, in his desire to collect one last great thing, masterminded the hijacking in
Paris. Then along comes Maggie who, somehow, discovers her friend's part in the theft and rushes to
Melbourne to tell him this is 'just not on, old boy', only to find she is too late because one of
his co-conspirators has decided to bump him off before fleeing the country. Maggie then manages to
convince me that we should go gallivanting around the world on a quest for some stolen
artefact."

Vasquez's dark eyes were shining as if he was hearing exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Enrico, she is kidding," Maggie said, as she and Sam collapsed in laughter.

"But why else would your investigation of a murder in Melbourne take you to Egypt and Peru?"

"Señor Vasquez, as you cannot prove to me that you are anything other than a Peruvian curator and
a suspect in my murder investigation, I am not likely to divulge the reasons for our being here. And
if the little story I just invented bears any resemblance to your reason for being here then I'd
have to leap to the conclusion that you are the alleged co-conspirator in the hijacking and would
therefore qualify as the prime suspect in the Professor's murder. So, should I arrest you now?"

Vasquez was horrified. "I swear I had nothing to do with the Professor's death or the theft of
the bracelet. I realise I am disadvantaged by the fact that, right now, I cannot prove I am who I
say I am, but why would I make it up?"

"I don't have the faintest idea," Sam said. "But why would you expect me to believe you?"

"Why not? You expect me to believe you are not on the trail of the Tahuantinsuyu Bracelet just
because you say so," Vasquez said. "But if you are not, then why would a known dealer in stolen
antiquities attack you in Cairo?"

"I beg your pardon?" Sam asked.

"The Turkish gentleman that my cousin saved you from," Vasquez said with a smile.

"The Mexican was your cousin?"

"Obviously he is not Mexican," Vasquez pointed out. "And it was he who discovered you had left
Cairo for Peru, which is why I am here."

"Well," Sam said calmly, "I would appreciate it if you would pass on my thanks to your cousin for
following me around. That Turkish bloke, however, was only after my money."

"Yes, of course he was," Vasquez stated.

"Well," Maggie pronounced, "I don't know about you two but it seems we're just sitting around
here not believing each other. I suggest we give up and call it a night."

"Good idea," Sam said, then smiled and added, 'We could meet back here in the morning with a
whole new set of implausible stories for each other if you like, Señor Vasquez."

"Very amusing, Detective Diamond."

 

Sam and Maggie, hoping that Vasquez had come across them in the street by accident,
wandered back to the Hotel Royal Inca by a circuitous route to make sure he wasn't following them.
By the time Pavel returned two hours later, they still had not decided whether Vasquez had been
telling the truth, in which case he'd betrayed half a dozen state secrets in his attempt to find out
what they were doing in Peru, or whether he had simply fed them an inspired collection of lies to
cover the fact that he was the one they were after.

"I hope that he does not know I am here with you," Pavel said. "That would ruin our plan."

"Oh, and that would be terrible," Maggie commented.

"Maggie, darling, this will work."

"Pavel, darling, it is a ridiculous plan."

"Both of you darlings please stop arguing," Sam begged.

"Did you get the impression that he knew about the Hand of God?" Pavel asked.

"No Pavel, but then as we said we have no idea whether to believe him or not. Personally I vote
for 'not' but Sam thinks his story is silly enough to be true."

"I don't know what I think any more," Sam admitted, lying back on the bed. "But I have been
wondering whether the person behind all of this might be someone from the original dig in 1962."

"No way," said Pavel.

"How can you be sure? You said most of your porters ran off, and the others left with half your
team who were desperate to get out of there."

"Yes they were desperate - with fear. But I trusted their word and, having worked with most
of them over the years since then, I have no reason to doubt them. Besides apart from the Guardians
everyone else left before we came up with our plan to protect the Hand."

"I have to get something off my chest, Pavel," Maggie interrupted. "I understand why it never
occurred to you to consider just how preposterous your plan was, but I can't for the life of me
fathom why Lloyd or Noel and especially Alistair not only went along with it in the first place but
never came to their senses. As a plan it ranks highly amongst the most idiotic ideas of all
time."

BOOK: Golden Relic
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