Crouch read the passage aloud:
“From an Ancient Wonder’s home to the Domus,
“From the Golden palace to the Emperor’s Circus,
“The First riding above all,
“The Second supporting the wall.
“From the Floating City to the New Rome,
“Undivided as Lysippos intended,
“The Tarentum — the strength, the bolster,
“The Quadriga — the show, the vision.
“Then sundered materially as never in spirit,
“One always the show,
“The other below,
“By the Pillars of Hercules he endures,
“A part of the soil,
“Hiding among New Arches envisioned,
“To the victor the spoils.”
Caitlyn peeked over his shoulder as he recited the passage. Amaury shifted from foot to foot, still clearly nervous. Both of them looked at Crouch at the same time.
“Well?” Caitlyn asked. “Do you know what it means?”
“I haven’t a bloody clue,” Crouch said. “But let me copy it down. I take it you have no objection to me taking a picture?” He glanced toward the curator.
“It is the Louvre,” the Frenchman said in assent. “It is what is expected.”
Crouch snapped several photos and then thanked the curator. After the man locked up and walked away Crouch allowed himself to break into a wide grin.
“This is why we do this,” he said. “For breakthroughs like this. For the discovery of lifetimes. For the thrill of the chase. This is what it means to be a treasure hunter.”
Caitlyn threw her arms around his neck before she could stop herself, exuberant as ever. Crouch immediately coughed and grunted and regained most of his English reserve.
“Um, okay. Well, let’s go then. Figure this out tonight and then round up the gang.”
“You make them sound like the Scoobies.”
“Are you kidding? I’d kill for the Scoobies at a time like this.”
Caitlyn nodded. “Wouldn’t we all.”
“Now how the hell do we get out of this place?”
“We go against the flow, Michael. Isn’t that what we always do?”