Justice

TWENTY

“There’s nothing here.” Ransom’s voice trembled as he delivered the news to Wright. “We’ve checked both sarcophagi. They’re solid, just like the floor underneath. No sign of hollow spaces, trapdoors, or anything, and certainly no lock where you could use that.” He indicated the copy of the Bastille key hanging from Wright’s belt.

Wright gritted her teeth. It had to be here somewhere. Nothing else made sense. “Everyone quiet.” Her men obeyed immediately. Wright closed her eyes, found her center, and reached out, searching…

…and finding nothing.

“You told me you had things under control, Edmonia.” A deep, resonant voice filled the crypt.

Edmonia opened her eyes and turned to face the last man on earth she wanted to see right now.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to be here when you found it. Of course, I believed you when you said you knew where the treasure was hidden. I’ve risked exposure for nothing.”

She forced herself to remain calm. “It’s not for nothing. We’re just missing something here.”

The man folded his arms. “I think it’s clear what we’re missing. The treasure.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Wright. I think I can help.” Jamison stood just outside the entrance, his weapon trained on a trembling man in a security guard’s uniform.

“Make it fast,” she snapped.

“Tell them what you told me,” Jamison said to the nervous man.

“This… this isn’t the only tomb. The Wa-Washingtons were buried in the old vault and then moved here later.”

“The old vault?” Wright felt her cheeks grow warm and hoped the near-darkness hid her embarrassment. She’d never heard of the old vault, so she’d had no reason to look anywhere other than this tomb. Of course, that didn’t make her look any better in front of one of the most powerful men in the nation.

He fixed her with a condescending smile. “It looks like dumb luck is on your side, Edmonia. And a good thing, too. My patience is exhausted.”

Wright ignored him. She strode over to the captive guard, her eyes boring into his.

“Show me.”

“What’s up with this skeleton?” Bones asked. “Washington wouldn’t leave a man down here to die, would he?”

“Doesn’t seem very presidential, does it?” Maddock mused. “Then again, neither was what he did to Billy Lee.”

They moved closer to the skeleton. Seeing it up close, Maddock realized something was wrong. The grinning skull didn’t look like it was made of bone. Nor did the bony fingers which clutched a small box. The thing looked as if it were carved from wood and painted white. And then Maddock realized the thing was clad in the scarlet uniform of the British. This was all wrong.

“What is that?” Sterling leaned over to take the box from the faux skeleton’s dead hands.

“Sandra, no!” Maddock dove forward and knocked Sterling to the side as three iron spikes shot out of the wall.

“Oh my God,” Sterling gasped as she looked up at the sharp points. “That’s right where I was standing.”

“You’re all right. That’s what matters.” Bones hauled Maddock and Sterling to their feet. “I’m guessing that box is a red herring.” He frowned. “You know, Washington was kind of an ass, wasn’t he? I mean, he sent Lafayette all the way down to the cave only to come back here again, and then he left this booby trap.”

Maddock ran his fingers through his hair. “I have a feeling he intended to add the final instructions to the journal but didn’t get to it before he died. Maybe the letter to Lafayette was all he could manage. And the British uniform would have served as a warning to Lafayette, who hated the English.”

Sterling nodded. “Agreed. So the hunt continues.”

“Actually,” Bones said, “I think the hunt is over.” He pointed behind Maddock, who turned to see dozens of wooden chests piled haphazardly against the wall. Most lay open. The chests at the bottom had shattered from decay and pressure. All appeared empty.

“The treasure?” Sterling said.

“Gone,” Maddock said. “And I don’t mean taken to another place.”

“I can’t believe it.” Bitterness laced Sterling’s words. “After all we’ve been through, there’s nothing left?”

“Maybe one thing.” The beam of Maddock’s light had fallen on a simple wooden box sitting in an alcove. Beneath it lay an oilcloth pouch. Above the box, a soldier carved in the wall stood watch.

“Is that it? The Crown of Thorns?” Sterling whispered.

“One way to find out.” He strode over to the alcove and picked up the box. It was light, as if what lay inside had practically no weight. That was promising. A tiny padlock held the box closed, so he handed it to Bones. “You work your magic on the lock. I’ll see what’s inside the pouch.”

While Bones set to picking the lock, Maddock opened the pouch and looked inside. There lay a letter on crumbling yellowed paper. He didn’t dare touch it, so he shone his light on it and read it aloud.

“We’ve found it!” Sterling said.

“Very good,” a voice pierced the darkness. “And now you will give it to me.”

It was a measure of Edmonia Jennings Wright’s skill that she could sneak up on Maddock and Bones even when they expected her at any second. But this time, Maddock and Bones held the cards.

“Let us go or we’ll smash the box,” Maddock said. “Two thousand-year-old thorns won’t stand the weight of a two hundred fifty pound Cherokee.”

“Two-twenty,” Bones corrected.

“Smash it and you die.” Behind Wright, her men fanned out. Maddock recognized Jamison, who looked as though he was ready to open fire at any second. Wright took a few steps toward them. “Was this really your plan? How did you think it would end? If you somehow managed to leave with the crown, my men would hunt you down. If you tried to trade the crown for your lives, you’d have no leverage once it was in my hands.” She let out a laugh that froze Maddock’s marrow. “You boys don’t know how to play the game. Now, hand it to me and I will consider granting you parole, provided you never interfere with the Sons of the Republic again.”

“Screw that,” Bones said. “We’ll take our chances on the run. Put your weapons down and let us leave or this thing is sawdust.” He raised the box, ready to smash it.”

“No!” Sterling shouted. In an instant, her Glock was pressed against the back of Bones’ head. “Give it to her.” Her voice sounded faint.

“Sterling, what the hell are you doing?” Bones said.

“I’m sorry. You have to let her have it.”

“So that’s how you kept catching up with us,” Maddock said to Wright. “It wasn’t your extensive resources. Sterling was your mole.”

“And that’s why we got to the journal before you. Sterling ditched us because she thought it was at the Lincoln Memorial.” Bones shook his head. “You are a piece of work, Sandra.”

“It’s not what you think,” Sterling pleaded. “They’ve got my daughter.”

Maddock looked at Bones and then at her. “What are you talking about?”

“The Sons of the Republic, they have my daughter.”

“You mean they kidnapped her?”

“They didn’t kidnap her. My ex-husband’s father is one of the most powerful men in Washington and when we divorced my husband got sole custody. They cooked up some crap about how the danger in my job made me a threat to my little girl. Some judge who was a friend of my father-in-law signed off on it.”

“So why did you join the Sons of the Republic if they took your daughter?”

“They didn’t give me any choice. Having an insider in the park police was valuable to them. As long as I played along, I could have supervised visits. Otherwise, nothing.”

Bones was shaking his head. “I’m not buying this. You’ve got no criminal record and you have a responsible job. No court in the world would cut off contact with a child’s mother.”

“It would if enough pressure is brought to bear.”

Maddock said, “Judges hate to be controlled. It’d have to be someone the judge really wanted to please. Who the hell is your father-in-law, anyway?”

Then a deep voice sounded from behind Wright’s men, and Maddock almost wasn’t surprised at yet another intrusion. The man had clearly been listening to their conversation.

“Her father-in-law? That would be me.”