The Mayan Secrets

Remi watched her, saying nothing. So did Zoltán.

Sarah persisted. “While you’re being cagey, Dr. Caine has made some calls to other academics here and abroad — linguists, archaeologists, historians, geologists, biologists. He’s told them what he’s seen and what he thinks will be in the rest of the codex. So I know pretty much what you know. He’s as good as verified publicly that the find is not a forgery. It’s a genuine fifth codex.”

Remi asked, “Why would any of those people reveal their conversations with Dr. Caine to you?”

“I have no illusion that I’m the only one who’s been told. I just move faster than most of the others,” said Sarah Allersby. “I and my family also control a great deal of money for grants and donations to universities. I sometimes let it be known that I’m interested in owning certain things, if they should ever turn up. And of course no matter who owns certain objects, the objects will be kept in museums and universities. It matters a great deal to some people which ones are chosen.”

“Does Dr. Caine know that his colleagues are sharing his conversations with you?” asked Remi.

She laughed. “I wouldn’t know that. I assume he has his own patrons and sources of backing for his research and tells them what he wants them to know.” Her smile was almost a smirk. Her blue eyes were especially cold when she spoke to Remi.

Sam could see that Miss Allersby had assumed that she would come in and dazzle him with her beauty while the mousy wife faded into the background somewhere. She hadn’t been able to adjust to being the second-best-looking woman in the room, and she didn’t like being double-teamed by two questioners. She seemed to will her ego to deflate a little bit. “I don’t flatter myself that I’m the only nonacademic who knows. That’s why I came immediately. And I’ve come such a long way. Can’t I please see it? I’ve already shown you there’s no reason for secrecy. The secret is out. And I am someone who genuinely cares about preserving and protecting these irreplaceable treasures and have spent many millions doing it.”

Sam looked at Remi, who nodded slightly. “All right,” he said. “But we’ve got to be very careful with it. Only the first pages have been opened. We can’t open more without risking having two surfaces stick together and damaging them. These couple of pages will have to do.”

“Agreed,” she said. “Where is it?” She looked around the large space with such eagerness that Sam felt uneasy.

“The pot and the codex are in a climate-controlled room,” said Remi. “It’s right down here.” She and Zoltán walked to the door of the room. She unlocked it. “I’m afraid there’s only space for two of you at a time. We can take turns.”

Sarah Allersby said, “Don’t worry. They’re not here for that. They don’t need to see it.”

She stepped in, Sam followed, and Remi entered and closed the door. Remi put on gloves, went to the cabinet, and produced the pot.

Miss Allersby’s eyes widened. “Incredible. I can see it’s in the classic style of Copán.” She looked up at the rows of shelves behind the glass doors like a spoiled child who had been given a gift and gotten tired of it already. “And the codex?”

Sam and Remi exchanged a glance, a mutual question: Do we really want to do this? Sam went to the rows of cabinets, unlocked one, and took down the codex. He carried it to the table, and Sarah Allersby’s body turned toward it as though it had a magnetism that pulled her only. As Sam set it down, she leaned very close to it — too close.

“Please be careful not to touch it,” Remi said.

Sarah ignored her. “Open it.”

Sam took a moment to pull the surgical gloves up his wrists so the fingers would be tighter. “Open it,” Sarah repeated.

Sam lifted the cover to reveal the page about the jade deposits in the Motagua Valley.

“What is that?” asked Sarah. “Is that jade?”

“We’re pretty sure it’s a group from a jungle city going to the Motagua Valley to trade for it.”

As they went to the next page, she showed more and more signs of excitement. “I think this is part of the Popol Vuh,” she said. “The creation myth and all that. Here are the three feathered serpents. Here are the three sky gods.”

When Sam reached the end of that section, he stopped, closed the book, and lifted it to its place in the glass cabinet, then locked the cabinet. Sarah Allersby took a moment to collect herself, returning slowly from the world of the codex.

They all went back to the couches in the sitting room, where Selma was serving tea and small pastries to the lawyers. As they returned, Selma served Sarah Allersby and the Fargos. Zoltán followed Remi to the couch and sat, watching the four visitors.

“Well, that was a thrill,” Sarah said. “It’s everything I’ve heard and more. If the rest of it is blank, it’s still amazing.” She sipped her tea. “I would like to make a preemptive offer before this goes any further. Does five million dollars sound fair?”

“We aren’t selling anything,” said Remi.

Sarah Allersby bristled. Sam could tell that she had now used the second of her two best weapons to little effect. Her looks had already failed to impress. On rare occasions when that was the case, her family’s money almost always restored the proper awe. Remi had passed over the money without comment.

“Why on earth not?”

“It doesn’t belong to us, for starters. It belongs to Mexico.”

“Surely you aren’t serious. You’ve already smuggled it all the way here. It’s in your house, in your possession. Why would you go to that trouble, risk arrest and imprisonment, if you don’t want it?”

Sam said, “It was an emergency. We did what we could to preserve the find. What we could do was to remove what was movable away from the site before it got carried off by thieves or the earthquakes and the volcano destroyed it. We also enlisted the local people to protect the shrine. Once we’ve given the experts a chance to study and preserve the codex, it has to go back to Mexico.”

Sarah Allersby leaned toward him as though she were about to spit. “Seven million?”

“May I?” asked Fyffe, the British attorney. “Virtually nobody knows that you have the codex. All you have to do is sign a sale agreement and a nondisclosure agreement and the money will be wired to a bank, or collection of banks, of your choice in the next few hours.”

“We’re not selling anything,” said Remi.

“Careful,” said Sarah. “When I walk out that door, it will mean that we couldn’t agree. Since you’ve demonstrated that you weren’t above smuggling it out of Mexico, I have to assume that the true obstacle was that you want a higher price.”

The Mexican lawyer Escobedo said, “I assure you, this is the best way to proceed. At some point, the Mexican government will take an interest. We can deal with them far better than you can. You’ve been in the Mexican newspapers. If you have the codex, you must have stolen it from the shrine on Tacaná. If Miss Allersby has it, she can say it came from anywhere — one of her plantations in Guatemala, perhaps. And Tacaná is on the Guatemalan border. A few yards this way or that and transporting the codex becomes perfectly legal.”

Salazar took his turn. “If you’re worried that the codex will be locked away where it won’t be studied by scientists, don’t be. The codex will be in a museum and scientists will be able to apply for access to it just as they do all over the world. Miss Allersby simply wants to be the legal owner and is willing to protect you from any litigation or government inquiry.”

“I’m very sorry,” Sam said, “but we can’t sell what we don’t own. The codex has to go to the Mexican government. I believe there’s information in it that might be used by grave robbers, pot hunters, and thieves to locate and destroy important sites before archaeologists could ever hope to reach them. We’re not rejecting your offer, we’re rejecting all offers.”