The Columbus Affair: A Novel

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

TOM CRINGED AS THE SHOT EXPLODED.

But Simon had readjusted his aim and fired at Alle’s feet, the bullet careening off the rock.

She’d leaped away in terror.

“The next bullet will not miss,” Simon said.

And Tom had no reason to doubt that. None of them meant a damn thing to him. Only what was on the other side of the lake. That’s what mattered and he’d do whatever was necessary to get there.

“Go,” Simon ordered Alle. “Into the water.”

She shook her head.

“I’ll go,” Tom said. “I’ll do it. You’re right, I know the way.”

Simon chuckled. “Which is exactly why she is going. I haven’t forgotten how we met. For all I know, you will go out there and finish what I interrupted at your father’s house. No. To be sure you will tell the truth, she will go.”

“I’ll do it—”

“She goes,” Simon yelled, “or I kill her and Béne can take her place.”

Tom stared at his daughter and, with no choice, said, “Do it.”

Her questioning look challenged the wisdom of that move.

“You’re going to have to trust me,” he said.

He spied no anger or resentment in her eyes.

Only fear.

And it tore his heart.

He stepped close to her. “The first stone is number 3.”

She did not move.

“We can do this. Together.”

She steeled herself and faced the challenge. Then she nodded, acknowledging the futility in arguing. He watched as she entered the water, only about a foot deep, on blank stones, settling her feet. He could see the first assemblage of numbered stones and was pleased when she found the one marked 3.

Which supported her, as it had Rócha.

Simon stepped back, keeping the gun ready to deal with anyone who made a move on him. He caught Rowe’s gaze and read what his dark eyes telegraphed. Simon could not shoot all three of them before one of them got to him. But he shook his head and threw him a look that said, Not yet. Neither Rowe nor the other man, Clarke, knew what he’d been privy to. His grandfather had left a specific message. Time to see if it he was interpreting it correctly. The five numbers had led to the sixth, through the astrolabe. But that did not mean the sixth number, which had located this cave on the map, also provided safe passage across. A safety valve could have been built in. Like when different passwords were used for different accounts.

But something told him he was right.

Or at least he hoped so.

His daughter’s life depended on it.

———

ALLE’S LEGS SHOOK WITH FEAR.

She’d been afraid before, but never like this.

Her father called off the five numbers and she worked her way across the shallow pond, toward the far ledge. Rócha had paved the way this far. Now she stood on the stone labeled 19, where Rócha had waited for the sixth number.

Her breathing went shallow.

A good twenty feet of mud was between her and solid ground. She glanced down and counted nineteen stones with numbers affixed to them, another ten or so blank. The twentieth, once labeled 34, was gone, taking Rócha into the mud with it.

Not that his death bothered her.

It was her own that mattered.

“Call out the numbers you see,” her father said.

———

TOM LISTENED AS ALLE PROVIDED A LIST.

As she did, he glanced at Rowe and saw that the Jamaican understood.

Be ready.

Soon.

———

BÉNE WONDERED IF SAGAN ACTUALLY KNEW THE SIXTH NUMBER. He’d clearly encouraged his daughter to go. But what choice had he been given? Simon would have killed her. Frank Clarke stood beside him, saying nothing. Simon was watching both them and the woman on the lake. If she made it across, Simon would shoot them all. That was a given. He’d know everything at that point.

Then why not act now?

Frank seemed to read his mind.

“Not yet,” the colonel whispered.

———

ALLE’S KNEES SHOOK AND SHE WILLED THEM TO STOP.

Did her father know the way across? Here she was, trusting someone whom she’d spent the last ten years of her life despising. But what did she know? Look how wrong about Zachariah Simon she’d been.

Shame clouded her thoughts, but did nothing to alleviate the terror sweeping through her.

One wrong step and she was dead.

———

TOM GLANCED AT SIMON AND SAID, “JUST SO WE’RE CLEAR. YOU’RE not the Levite. I am.”

“That is not possible,” Simon said to him. “You are not even a Jew. By your own admission.”

He ignored the insult, concentrating instead on Alle’s recitation of numbers. She hadn’t reported a stone with 56 on its face, which was the sixth number the astrolabe had revealed. But she had noted that there were two stones marked 5 and 6 among the nineteen.

And he knew.

That was the fail-safe.

Saki had split the last number into two.

It’s the only thing that made sense and, if nothing else, from everything he’d seen or ever been told, Marc Eden Cross always made sense.

He cast his gaze back across the lake.

“Five and six. Use both of them. I’m assuming you’re going to need them to cross the distance.”

———

“I SEE THEM,” ALLE SAID. “FIVE IS FIRST, THEN SOME BLANKS. SIX is closer to the ledge.”

“That’s the way,” her father called out.

“And if you’re wrong?” she asked.

“I’m not.”

She liked the definitive way he’d answered but wondered if that was for her benefit or Simon’s.

She stood petrified, willing her right foot to come out of the water, but anxiety held it in place. She was safe here. Why go any farther?

Go back.

No way.

Simon would shoot her before she made it halfway across.

———

BÉNE WAS READY TO CHARGE.

Of course, he may well get shot before he made it to the Simon, but he was going to try.

Frank slowly shook his head.

And in the eyes of his old friend, he saw why he had to stay still.

At least for a little while longer.

This must resolve itself.

We cannot interfere.

He’d resented being considered not Maroon. Angered by colonels who regarded him as a threat. Frank had told him that he did not understand Maroon ways.

Time to show that he did.

So he held his ground and waited.

Hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake.

———

ZACHARIAH KNEW THAT IF SAGAN WAS RIGHT AND ALLE MADE IT across, that was the time to kill all three men, then Alle, and find the treasure. If the two who’d left earlier were still around at ground level, he’d use the darkness and avoid them, returning tomorrow with a contingent of his own.

That was the thing about having money.

It could buy a multitude of things.

Including results.

———

ALLE STEELED HERSELF.

Five.

Then six.

The stone labeled 5 waited three feet away. A full stride, but she could make it. She lifted her right leg, pivoted forward, and nearly lost her balance. Her arms immediately extended, her lungs tightened, and she fought hard not to fall.

Her right foot settled back down beside her left.

She stabilized herself.

“What happened?” her father called out.

“Just scared to death. The shallow water makes this tricky.”

“Take your time,” he said to her.

“But not too much,” Simon added.

“Go screw yourself,” she yelled, keeping her head and eyes focused on the stones beneath the water.

In one quick stride she lifted her right foot, swung out, and resettled it into the water, the sole of her wet shoe resting on the 5 stone.

Which held.

She transferred herself over.

If 5 worked, why not 6?

This time with no hesitation she stepped onto the 6 stone.

Solid.

Three more feet and she was on the ledge.

Relief and joy swept through her.

She turned back just in time to see Béne Rowe rushing toward Simon.