Countdown - Iris Johansen [145]
No, it had meant too much to him. Even if he hadn’t considered the translation a bargaining coin, there had been a part of Mario that had been proud of his work, and he’d been thoroughly engrossed in the Cira legend. He’d even insisted that Trevor give up—
She stiffened. “Christ.” She left Mario’s bedroom and went back into the studio and over to the Cira statue by the window.
“Did he give it to you?” she murmured.
Cira stared back at her, bold and unflinching.
“Maybe . . .” She carefully lifted the bust and set it on the floor.
A few sheets of folded paper lay on the pedestal.
“Yes!” She took the sheets of paper, replaced the statue, and dropped down in the easy chair. Her hands were shaking as she unfolded Mario’s translation.
My dear Pia,
I may die tonight.
Julius is behaving strangely and he may have found that the gold is missing. Though the guards I persuaded to do my will are still serving Julius, he may be trying to disarm me until he can find where I sent the gold. I will not send this to you unless I think it safe. Take no chances. You must not die. You must live long and enjoy every minute of it. All the velvet nights and silver mornings. All the songs and laughter. If I don’t survive remember me with love and not bitterness. I know I should have found you sooner, but time flies by and you can never get it back. But enough of this gloominess. It is staying with Julius that is making me think of death. I need to talk to you of life, our life. I will not lie. I cannot promise you that it will be either—
22
Where are you going?” Bartlett asked Jane as she tore down the stairs. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. Tell Trevor I’ll be back soon. I have to see MacDuff. . . .” She trailed off as she ran out the door and down the front steps. No, not MacDuff. Not yet. She flew across the courtyard and into the stable. A moment later she was lifting the trapdoor, grabbing a flashlight, and starting down the steps that led to the sea.
Cold. Wet. Slippery.
Angus’s place, Jock had called it. And later also Angus’s room. She had thought it odd when there was no room. . . .
Not where she was.
She had reached the narrow passage that doubled back to lead to the hills instead of the cliffs. She started down the passage.
Darkness. Suffocating narrowness. Slick stones underfoot.
And an oak door about a hundred yards down the corridor.
Locked?
No, it swung open on oiled hinges.
She stood in the doorway, the beam of her flashlight shining into the darkness.
“Why are you hesitating?” MacDuff asked dryly from behind her. “Why not one more trespass? One more invasion of privacy?”
She stiffened and turned to face him. “You’re not going to make me feel guilty. Hell, I may be entitled to know why Jock said you spent so much time here.”
He didn’t change expressions. “Trevor isn’t leasing this part of the estate. You have no right to be here.”
“Trevor’s invested a lot in trying to find Cira’s gold.”
“You think it’s here?”
“I think there’s a chance.”
His brows lifted. “I’m supposed to have found Cira’s gold on one of my trips to Herculaneum and hidden it here?”
“Possibly.” She shook her head. “But that’s not my guess.”
He smiled faintly. “I’ll be fascinated to hear your speculations.” He gestured. “Let’s go into Angus’s room and you can tell me all about it.” His smile widened as he saw her expression. “Do you think I’m going to indulge in foul play? I might. Cira’s gold is a great instigator.”
“You’re not a fool. Trevor would tear this place apart if I disappeared.” She turned and went into the room. “And I came here to see what was in this room, and now I have an invitation.”
MacDuff laughed. “A reluctant invitation. Let me light the lanterns so that you can have a good look.” He moved across the room to a table against the wall and lit two lanterns, illuminating the room. It was a small room that contained a desk with an open laptop computer, a chair, a cot, and a number of cloth-draped objects leaning against the far wall. “No chest overflowing with Cira’s gold.” He leaned lazily against the wall and