The Solomon Curse

Getting Leonid a room at the hotel proved easy. It was almost completely empty now, the news of the assassination and the murder of the aid workers having chilled interest in vacationing on Guadalcanal.

“We got Lazlo’s itinerary and confirmation,” Remi said. “He’ll be in at eight-ten tomorrow morning.”

“Great. Assuming he’s up to it, we can head into the mountains by noon. I’m anxious to see whether we can find that cave.”

“That makes two of us. We can expect to keep news of Leonid’s find secret for only so long, and once it becomes public knowledge the island will be swarmed by researchers who’ll want to study it. You know the kind of speculation our continued presence here would cause at that point. We’d be followed everywhere by speculators convinced we were in search of treasure.”

“I really hope for Lazlo’s sake we find something. Leonid’s going to be a rock star for the city discovery. Lazlo could use a win, if only for his reputation’s sake.”

“I doubt there’s much that could redeem him after his little adventure with his student and the resulting scandal,” Remi said.

“Discovering a lost treasure would go a long way.”

“You don’t have to convince me. Now we just need to get to the part where we find it.”

“Always more difficult than it sounds,” Sam agreed.

They spent the afternoon wandering Honiara with Leonid, gathering supplies for their cave expedition. They were able to locate rubber boots and strong rope, as well as LED flashlights, but unsurprisingly had no luck with carabiners or any specialized hardware. Fortunately, Lazlo was bringing the more obscure elements so that when he arrived they would be ready to hit the ground ru

The mood of the city was apparently back to normal, with none of the brooding menace that had been present earlier in the week. There had been no further violence since the machete attack, and despite lingering tension, life went on. The arrival of the Australian-led civil defense force was largely met with welcome by the locals, although there was still a vocal segment of the population that viewed it as a further subversion of the islands’ autonomy.

Sam and Remi were up early the next day, waiting outside the small arrivals terminal at the Honiara Airport while Lazlo cleared customs. When he appeared through a double doorway, followed by a porter with an overloaded cart piled high, he looked every bit the stereotypical Englishman, in a crisp khaki shirt and matching shorts, desert boots below scrawny white calves, and a pith helmet perched precariously on his head.

“There you are! Buggers nearly didn’t let me through with all the equipment. I’m fortunate they didn’t strip-search me for pitons or whatnot,” he called out as he approached.

Sam grasped his hand and shook it, then released him so Remi could give him a tentative hug.

“Were you pla

Lazlo looked down at his outfit. “What? You’ve never seen proper tropical wear before? I should think you’d be happy your associates are trying to set a good example for the natives.”

Remi eyed him. “I thought it might be Halloween and nobody told us. It’s easy to lose track of time in the islands.”

“The last time I saw one of those hats was on Katharine Hepburn in a film,” Sam added.

Lazlo’s face could have been carved from stone. “I’m glad that I’m able to provide amusement for you two.”

Sam clapped him on the shoulder and gri

“Over twenty hours of white-knuckle flying, stone-cold sober. It was so turbulent from Hawaii on that I was afraid I’d lose a filling. Need I say more?”

“Well, you’re here on terra firma now. Are you adequately rested to go spelunking?” Remi asked.

“It’s been a long time since a woman made me an offer like that,” Lazlo quipped, but then his expression grew serious. “I’m sure I can muster some energy. I trust that my directions meant something to you?”

“That remains to be seen. We think we know the starting village Kumasaka refers to as his orientation marker, but there’s no way of confirming it other than going for a hike,” Sam said.

“Lovely day for it. What is it, about a hundred degrees and ninety percent humidity?”

“I thought the Brits used Celsius,” Remi corrected.

“Just tell me it gets more comfortable inland,” Lazlo said.

“Oh, between the mosquitoes, the crocodiles, the rebel forces, and the giants, it feels positively breezy,” Sam assured him.

“I don’t suppose there’s a chance you’re joking about any of that lot?”

“Maybe the bit about the giants. But the rest . . . haven’t you been following the news about the area?”

“Now that you mention it, Selma did say something about rebels, but I thought she was just trying to dissuade me from a cracking good adventure.” He paused and lowered his voice. “The woman’s mad about me. I don’t think she can bear for me to be away, you know. But don’t let on I said anything. I’d hate to embarrass her.”

Remi rolled her eyes as Sam led the way to the parking area. Lazlo’s luggage occupied the entire cargo area and much of the backseat, and he looked cramped in the rear, with barely enough room for his helmet, his knobby knees pressed nearly to his chest.

“I hope the air-conditioning works in this relic,” he said as Sam and Remi climbed in.

“Like a charm. This is the fourth vehicle we’ve gone through since we arrived and easily the hardiest,” Remi said.

“Really? Dare I ask what happened to the others?”

Remi and Sam exchanged a glance and she eyed Lazlo in the rearview mirror. “You don’t want to know.”

“Ah. Quite. I’ll just content myself with swatting at insects, then. Carry on.”

Remi perked up. “Oh, you don’t know Leonid, do you?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Then you’re really in for a treat. He makes you look like a starry-eyed optimist.”

“Given the line of work I’ve taken up, a deluded dreamer might be more accurate,” Lazlo said. “Laos was a bust, and I’m not confident that the letter purported to be from Cooke is genuine. So right now my prospects aren’t stellar.”

“That’s all going to change, Lazlo. Without your decrypting the diary, we wouldn’t have anything, so if we find a treasure at the end of this rainbow, it will be credited to you.”

Lazlo frowned as they hit another rut and he was jarred sideways in his seat. “Well, then. I’m practically already rich, aren’t I?”

Remi couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what we like about you, Lazlo. Ever the optimist.”

CHAPTER 39

At the hotel, Sam introduced Leonid and Lazlo. They loaded the equipment into the Pathfinder as storm clouds darkened the sky.

“How do you know where to start the search?” Leonid asked as they rolled past the first police roadblock.

“We know that the Japanese moved the treasure from the bay and we know where we met with the only living survivor. We’re hoping we can enlist someone in that village to show us where the old deserted village site was,” Remi said.

“And if not?”

“Then it gets harder,” Sam said.

“What about the language issue?” Leonid pressed. “I thought you said that none of the villagers spoke English or even pidgin.”

“That was our impression, but my suspicion is that some of the older villagers must,” Remi reasoned. “Even if they don’t have a lot of contact with the outside world, they have to have some, and if they want to do business, they have to speak something in common. Probably pidgin. In which case, we can wing it. Plus, we have the mighty Lazlo with us—master of a thousand dialects.”