The Solomon Curse (34 page)

Three days later, Fleming and a cadre of police ringed the area in front of the waterfall. Greg and Rob, having experience in demolitions from their Navy SEAL days, had been drafted to confirm the crates weren't still booby-trapped from eons ago. Lazlo helped document the contents of each crate under the watchful eyes of Chief Fleming and a gemstone expert he'd brought in from Australia. In addition to the gold shaved off the temple walls, the treasure consisted of crudely formed gold icons and hundreds of pounds of raw gemstones.

Roadworking equipment had been brought in and had cleared access to the waterfall. Soon, police vans, two official government SUVs, and a fleet of media vehicles were parked in the clearing.

Sam and Remi stood beneath a makeshift fabric shelter that shielded them from the spray of the waterfall. Lazlo's head poked out of the brush by the edge of the waterfall. He waved and made his way to the
tent, wiping his brow and smiling in triumph. Leonid appeared a few moments later, trailing the Englishman.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to tell you that we opened three more crates and all have raw diamonds and rubies in them,” Lazlo said in a low voice to Sam as though he didn't want Fleming to hear.

“Nice to know the hoard keeps growing,” said the chief with a big smile. He was standing behind Leonid and had caught every word.

“How's your case against you-know-who coming?” Remi asked.

Fleming glanced around and leaned toward them. “There's talk of a special tribunal. The scope of her crimes is so massive that nobody's completely sure how to proceed. The Aussies have already put in an official request to charge her as an accomplice to the murder of the aid workers. And then we have all the families, who are demanding immediate justice. So everyone wants a piece.”

“Any chance she gets off on a technicality?” Sam asked.

“None at all. The only question is whether Solomon Island law can be changed to allow the death penalty for crimes against humanity. Apparently, that's being discussed. Public opinion is crying for her head, so it could happen. Our people are shocked and angry.”

“I don't blame them for an instant,” Remi said. “Any news on the evil old grandfather?”

Fleming nodded. “Died in his sleep in 1988. He changed his name after the war and kept to himself on a ranch in the Australian outback.”

Sam and Remi had to pause to answer more questions about the treasure trove from a score of reporters as cameras flashed like strobe lights in a disco.

When they had finished, Sam turned to Lazlo and smiled. “You'd better prepare your speech.”

“Speech? What could I possibly say?”

“I'm sure you'll come up with something.”

“Why me?”

“Because you'll soon be a national hero as soon as it's announced that the treasure will be used to build schools, a new hospital with clinics all around the island, and of course a first-rate road system. Then once we're done splitting the percentage the island is giving all of us . . .”

Lazlo's mouth dropped open. “What percentage?”

Remi raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. “Oh, didn't we mention that? The government's giving us ten percent. Even the most conservative valuation after paying expedition expenses should net you many millions.”

“Blimey.”

Sam smiled at Lazlo's reaction. “Congratulations, Lazlo. Your days as a pauper are behind you.”

“Does Leonid know?”

Sam shook his head. “Not yet. I was just getting ready to tell him.”

“This I have got to see for myself.”

They made their way to where Leonid was studying an image carved on a flat piece of rock. Sam and Lazlo watched expectantly as Remi broke the news. The Russian's face didn't even twitch.

Sam nudged him with his elbow. “Come on. Tell me you aren't happy about this.”

There was no mirth in Leonid's eyes. “Not if I have to participate in primitive displays of gratitude. Or if I'm going to have to work here for at least another five years.”

“But you'll have all the money you can spend on future expeditions,” said Remi.

“I'll believe that when I see it.”

“It's a done deal, my friend,” Sam assured him.

“They'll probably cheat us on the valuation.”

“I doubt it,” Sam tried again.

“You watch.”

Lazlo caught Remi's eye and shook his head. They both laughed as Sam sighed in frustration.

Leonid swatted at a mosquito, his expression as somber as a mortician's. “I'll probably catch malaria or some sort of weird jungle fever, before this is over, and spend all the money on air evacuation and hospitalization.”

“Or enjoy treasure hunting from your own research vessel,” Sam mused.

“More likely I'll be targeted by corporations and relatives, all with their hands out. Cousins I never knew existed. Lady friends I don't even remember.”

They all watched the poker-faced Russian mentally construct a future where untold riches became an intolerable burden. Then his expression shifted and he looked at Remi, his mouth spreading into a rare grin. “Would you care to join me, Mrs. Fargo, in conducting a search into a passage we haven't entered yet?”

Remi searched Leonid's face for any sign of deviousness. Seeing none, she smiled. “Why me?”

“Your husband and the limey are too busy playing celebrities to get their hands dirty again. Besides, I prefer your company to theirs.”

“Go ahead,” said Sam with a chuckle. “Just scream and Lazlo, Chief Fleming, and I will come charging to the rescue.”

Without another word, Leonid took Remi's hand and gallantly led her behind the waterfall and into the cave. Once inside, she followed about ten paces behind, until he stopped and shone his light on a massive vertical stone embedded into the cavern wall.

“Here it is,” he announced. “I found an inscription on a rock that suggested another passage.”

Remi swept her light around the stone. “I see nothing but a big rock.”

“More than simply a large rock—it's a door,” Leonid said confidently. He stepped forward, put his shoulder against one side, and dug his feet into the cavern floor.

Holding her light on Leonid, Remi frowned, “You're wasting your time. It's twenty feet tall and must weigh at least that many tons. . . .”
Her voice trailed off as the great stone made a grinding sound and began to move, twisting slowly as if it were hung on a vertical shaft like a revolving department store door.

Remi lent her weight to Leonid's and helped shove the stone until it shifted enough to permit a human body to slip past. They shined her flashlight into the darkness and Remi whispered, “It's a tunnel.”

Leonid squeezed through and extended his hand to Remi to guide her through the narrow opening. “Easier for you,” he said. “I'm fifty pounds heavier.”

Remi's shoulders barely brushed against the rock wall and stone door as she slipped through the gap. She gave him a knowing look as her beam played across the stone floor. “How far have you explored the tunnel?”

“Not more than thirty yards. My flashlight was dying and I wasn't about to poke around in the dark.”

Remi directed her light ahead into the darkness. At first she saw nothing but a hollow shaft leading into the gloom. Then she saw the walls of the tunnel glow a soft gray as though they were painted. She aimed her beam farther into the tunnel, expecting it to fade, but instead a glimmer of light flickered from far down the tunnel. It came and went in less than a second before disappearing again into nothingness.

“Leonid!” Remi blurted.

The Russian had been studying the faint carving of a serpent on the rock wall and had failed to see the distant light. “Yes, pretty lady, have you made an interesting find?”

Remi didn't immediately reply. Her gaze was still fixed on the blackness looming from the opposite end of the passageway. “I saw something . . . shimmering.”

Leonid's tone was unconcerned, his attention still focused on the engraved stone in his hand. “Perhaps a reflection off a smooth rock from your light? Or maybe your imagination?”

Remi shook her head. “I'm sure it was real.”

Leonid turned from his discovery and peered into the tunnel and then switched off his light. “All right, turn off your flashlight and see if your ghostly illumination is still there.”

She switched off her light and the passageway was plunged into blackness. A minute went by and . . . nothing.

“Say what you want, I saw a gleam somewhere down the tunnel,” Remi said in frustration. A feeling of dread slowly crept through her as the walls seemed to close in on her. She was feeling for the flashlight switch when a glimmer streaked faintly in the distance.

“There!” she cried out. “You must have seen it.”

Leonid spoke as if in a trance. “I saw it.”

“We've got to investigate,” Remi urged.

Leonid stood frozen, his expression showing more bewilderment than fear. He flipped his flashlight back to life. “You wait here. I'll find Sam and return with more lights and muscle.”

Remi did not argue. She sat down while Leonid swiftly passed out of the tunnel and ran through the cavern to the waterfall, anxiety and fear building with every step.

—

Sam and
Lazlo
finally managed to break away from the reporters. All the major news bureaus from Australia, Europe, Asia, and the United States were represented, as well as many smaller ones, bringing the total close to ninety. The reporters watched from beyond a hastily erected barricade as Chief Fleming's main force of forty policemen began loading the treasure into trucks for the trip to the central bank's main vault.

Sam and Lazlo stood to the side as the trucks pulled away over the rugged path leading to the main roadway. A cloudburst drizzled warm rain on them as the last vehicle disappeared around the bend, and Sam glanced at Lazlo with a tired smile.

“Looks as though Remi and I are finished here,” Sam said quietly. “We can finally head home.”

“I wish I could say the same, but there are too many inscriptions that need translation. I'll be here for bloody years.”

Leonid burst from behind the waterfall, his face as white as a meadow after a snowfall. “Hurry! Come quick!” he gasped.

“Remi!” Sam cried. “Is Remi all right?”

Leonid nodded. “Yes, yes. She's fine. But we found something. We need floodlights and a generator—she's still in the cave, so there's no time to lose.” The Russian didn't wait for a response and instead spun and raced back to the waterfall and ducked behind the endless stream of water.

Sam and Lazlo exchanged a puzzled look and then Sam moved to where the equipment was piled. “You heard the man. Grab some lights.”

“What in blazes has gotten into his head?” Lazlo griped.

“We'll know soon enough,” Sam said. “But Remi's still in there and Leonid's acting like it's an emergency. We'd better go find out what the fuss is about.”

Sam and Lazlo rushed to join Leonid in the cavern, each carrying two Cascadia high-intensity discharge floodlights. Rob and Greg followed them through the waterfall with a portable generator. Once in the cave, they put all their might into forcing the rock door open another two feet so they could get the equipment into the passageway.

“Where's Remi?” Sam demanded.

Leonid scowled, perplexed. “I asked her to remain here until I returned. She must have gone on alone to investigate the mysterious light.”

Sam fixed Leonid with murderous eyes. “Mysterious light? You never said anything about a light.”

“At the far reaches of the tunnel, a glint shows itself every few minutes. I thought it was nothing . . .”

Sam turned to where Rob and Greg stood by the stone door. “We're going to see where this leads. Remi's somewhere in there and we're going to find her.”

Sam led the way, beams from the hand lights swinging in arcs and
probing through the blackness as they carried the equipment farther into the cave system.

Sam stopped after fifty paces and shouted Remi's name. His voice rebounded off the rock walls and returned as an echo. Hearing no response, he continued another fifty paces and repeated his cry, again with no answer. His flashlight was dimming but he pushed on, not wanting to wait for the others to catch up, his fear that something had gone horribly wrong for Remi growing with every step. After the sixth shout, Sam's voice cracked and he felt the beginning pangs of hoarseness. He cleared his throat and was about to call out again when he heard Remi's voice, faint, from deep in the earth.

“Sam? . . . Sam!”

“Remi!” Sam cried, abandoning caution as he began running through the gloom, his light now so faint that he could barely make out the tunnel's floor.

“Sam!” Remi's voice grew louder as he neared, but he still couldn't see her even though she now sounded as though he were practically on top of her. The empty tunnel stretched endlessly before him.

“I can't see your flashlight,” he exclaimed in frustration.

“The batteries gave out,” she said. “Shine yours on yourself.”

Sam aimed the meager beam at his face and, before he knew it, Remi had her arms around his neck in a tight grip.

“About time you showed up,” she said after a long kiss.

“Why didn't you wait at the entrance?” he asked. “Where Leonid left you?”

“I knew you'd be along eventually, so I went exploring.”

Sam suppressed a grin and gave her a tight hug. “Please refrain from doing that ever again.”

Leonid approached them and cleared his throat, the others behind him with the equipment. “I'm glad to see you're in one piece. Did you find anything interesting?” he asked.

Remi nodded. “Fifty feet beyond us, the tunnel becomes man-made,
with a smooth bore and an arched ceiling. It seems to glow.” She paused and looked at Sam. “That was all I could make out before my batteries died.”