The Lost City

CHAPTER FOUR

Luis Moyano was a freshly-minted doctor of archaeology from the Universidad de los Andos in Bogotá with a PhD so fresh you could still smell the wrapping. It might be true that Luis had about as much life experience as the average boy scout, but that wasn't about to stop him taking on the world, no sir. His new job at the naval museum was just the first step in what he hoped would be a long and eminent career.

Now, he looked at the people standing outside his office door, wiped his hand on his shirt and offered it to them.

“I was expecting Professor Meier,” Lea said, reluctantly taking the hand.

“And I was expecting the police,” he said. “They’re talking to everyone about the robbery.”

Hawke stepped up. “We’re investigating the same crime.”

Lea showed him her ID card. “Is Professor Meier here?”

“No. Unfortunately Ricardo was taken ill a few hours ago and went home. I’m afraid he won’t be able to help you, but he was my supervisor for several years and my boss here so I know him better than anyone… except Mrs Meier, of course.” Without waiting for a response from the others Luis exploded into the most awkward laugh Lea had ever heard in her life.

She glanced at Hawke for a second and then back to Luis. “Can we come in?”

“Ah, yes… of course. Forgive me.” Luis walked backwards a few steps into his office and tripped over his bin, knocking pieces of paper and some crumpled soda cans onto the floor. “Paila!” he said, and immediately dropped to his knees to pick it all back up again. “Please, take a seat while I sort this mess out.”

Lea and Hawke exchanged a glance. “No, you’re all right, mate.” Hawke said, raising his eyebrow as he watched the young man scrabbling about on the floor. “I prefer to stand.”

A minute later and Luis Moyano was on his feet again and moving back around to his desk. “So, I would be happy to help any friend of Ricardo’s — as you can see, I have researched this field extensively.” As he spoke he wafted his arms to indicate his vast collection of peer-reviewed journals and books, but along the way he knocked over his coffee cup and it slopped out all over a pile of students’ papers. “Oh, damn it all!”

As Luis began to mop up the mess with his pocket handkerchief, Hawke rolled his eyes and leaned in to Lea. “Is this guy for real?” he whispered.

“Shhh,” she said, and slapped him away.

“So,” Luis said, smiling broadly as he stuffed the coffee-soaked cloth back into his pocket. “How can I help you?”

“We’re here about the robbery at the museum,” Hawke said flatly.

Luis shook his head and sighed. “We’re all very angry and shaken up. I hope Héctor is all right after such a terrible ordeal.”

“You mean you haven’t heard?” Lea said.

“Heard what? I was in the library researching all morning with strict instructions not to be interrupted.”

Hawke sighed and moved forward a step. “Héctor Barrera was murdered during the raid.”

“Señor Barrera is dead?” Luis’s mouth fell open in shock. “We were told he was injured and taken to hospital.”

“That’s true, but he died before he got there. I’m sorry,” Lea said. “Did you know him well?”

“We weren’t close at all, no… but I knew him a little professionally. I worked with him on several projects involving the Inca culture not to mention the discovery of the San José.” Luis fell into his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

“I think the San José is why he was killed,” Lea said.

Luis looked up at her. “Really? What makes you say that?”

“Tell me,” Hawke said, “Do you have a manifest of the treasure items found on board the galleon?”

“Somewhere, yes. Let me look for it.” Luis jumped up from his desk and turned to search the filing cabinet. He tried to open the top drawer but it was stuck, so he pulled harder, and then harder again. Turning to face Lea and Hawke with an embarrassed look on his face he grinned and made his apologies. “It’s not locked — just a stuck a bit.”

Hawke glanced at Lea and sighed. They were both watching the spider plant on top of the cabinet as it wobbled back and forth, and expecting the inevitable.

Luis gave it a serious yank this time and sent the plant flying through the air. Lea reached out and caught it and Hawke gave a round of applause, but the soil went everywhere.

Lea handed the plant back. “Luis?”

“Yes?”

“Is that the key right there?’ She pointed to a lone key sitting on top of a little pad of Post-It notes.

“Ah — yes, perhaps. I thought it was unlocked!”

Hawke and Lea exchanged another glance. “All we want is a quick look at the manifest,” Lea said, trying not to laugh behind the young man’s back as Hawke re-enacted her catching the spider plant.

“Of course,” Luis said. “I will get it for you now the cabinet is unlocked. I don’t know what made me think it was already unlocked. Professor Gomez came in here earlier and asked for something and I was sure I had already unlocked it.”

“Have you found it yet?” Hawke asked.

“Yes! Here it is. The manifest from the San José!”

He pulled out a folder from the cabinet and spun around, smashing his elbow on the top of the drawer and cursing loudly as he rubbed it with his hand.

Lea took the manifest and opened it up. She traced her finger down the long list of items on the paper as Hawke peered over her shoulder.

“Look at all this stuff,” she said.

“Don’t pretend you know what any of it is,” Hawke said, nudging her gently in the ribs.

“Get lost, Josiah,” she said with a smile. “Ah ha — I found it!”

Her finger pointed at the Mask of Inti and Hawke nodded as he looked at it. “So it’s real all right. What can you tell us about this mask, Luis?”

“It’s small — like a child’s mask — and made of solid gold of the highest quality. It has some precious stones embedded in it but of more interest are the markings.”

“Markings?”

“I can say no more because I only know what Héctor told me. I never actually saw the mask myself.”

“But why do you think these markings are so important?”

He smiled at them. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking the markings will lead you to the Lost City of the Incas. This is what those murdering thieves must be thinking. I have heard the legend too.”

“You’re sceptical?”

“I am not sceptical at all,” he replied. “I am absolutely certain the markings will not lead to any great lost city for the simple reason I do not believe there is such a place. So no scepticism — just certainty.”

“But Héctor believed in the Lost City,” Lea said.

Luis nodded and frowned sadly. “Héctor lived on a cloud of farts — is that how you say it in English?”

“Not exactly ringing any bells,” Hawke said.

“I mean he is — how do you say — out of touch with reality?”

Hawke smiled. “That’s more like it but I preferred the first way you said it.”

“It’s true though — he had some insane theories about the Incas and the Nazca Lines that very nearly got him fired on more than one occasion. He certainly believed in the Lost City, but that isn’t to say such a place existed. Just because he was an eminent archaeologist does not mean he was always right or all his theories are sure to be true.”

“We need to find out one way or the other,” Lea said.

“So how can I help?”

“First thing we need to find out is who exactly knocked this place off,” Hawke said. “Do you have any idea?”

Luis shook his head. “Not at all — the police are still investigating as you must have seen when you walked to my office. They’ve been here all day. Perhaps we should talk with them?”

Hawke moved toward the door. “I think that sounds like a grand idea.”