The Medusa Stone

Chapter 12

In the soundproof safety of his study, Purdue was completing a phone call on his tablet. He did not want staff or his accountants to find the number on registered lines. It was strictly off the record. This call was his own business.

“Please let me know how the operation went, doctor. And if there is anything you and your team need to speed up his recovery or better the task, please contact me. And, as always, the utmost discretion is imperative. Thank you, doctor. Thank you very much.”

Purdue was waiting for the last two people he lined up to join the excursion that would probe the origin and authenticity mysterious stone statues and whatever method was used to make them. He could not resist the unshakable fascination he had with such an anomaly, the works of the impossible, and he had to know what the phenomenon was all about.

Outside in the pouring rain, the massive gates to his estate remained open with only two security guards on duty to keep an eye on the entrance. Inside the vast mansion, Purdue was entertaining those he had already employed officially to join him in the search. His first order of business was to locate the warehouse Dr. James Heidmann had spoken of to get better insight as to the cause of the calcification and to make a record of any identification symbols or names the statues might hold.

It was late afternoon, but the dark grey skies of the vicious storm had draped Edinburgh in dusk. Fires were lit in the hearths of the first floor, and dinner had just been started by Purdue’s head cook, Grützmacher. Purdue had elected not to leave Dr. Heidmann’s statues at the British Museum because he did not need any other agents to discover what he and his colleagues had. So, as to avoid any untimely surprises, Purdue arranged for the statues to be transported by his own people at Pinnacle Regent Transport, of which he was the owner. They had already collected the sculptures and were en route to his estate.

“This is some excellent Scotch, Dave, but I would kill for a Guinness, actually!” he heard from the billiards room. It was Donovan Graham, the huge and rugged archeologist who was grittier than the terrain he excavated during his own digs.

“You have no refinement, my friend. None at all,” Purdue smiled as he gestured for one of his house staff to come over. “Please Janet, could you go down to the wine cellar and check one of the fridges for …” he sighed, shaking his head facetiously, “…some Irish beer for my friend, Dr. Graham?”

The servant smiled amusedly, “Certainly, Mr. Purdue.”

“Guinness! Thank you, Janet!” Don shouted after her. He walked over to where Purdue was standing from where he was looking out from the window that overlooked the driveway. “So, who else are we waiting for, besides Zorba the Greek?” Don asked Purdue.

“Heidmann is late. We are just waiting for the two of them. Then we can start arranging our plans, get the logistics and visas sorted out,” Purdue informed him.

“How much of this story do you believe?” Don asked.

“How do you mean? You saw that broken body with your own eyes,” Purdue replied, taken aback by his friend’s doubt.

“No, I get that. But do you believe Heidmann’s story of how he acquired the pieces? It just sounds a little too cut and dried to me. For instance, how did he and his laborers get back to the compound and managed to steal those pieces without being detected at first?” he scowled, trying to make sense of the details. “I don’t know. If someone stole my secret victims, especially a huge historically significant find like that, I would have pursued them to the ends of the earth.”

Purdue nodded, “I see where you doubt all that. But right now, all we can do is take this as far as we can so that we can unravel this thing. However, if Heidmann does not show up tonight, we will know that he was lying and that he cannot be trusted.”

“I second that,” Don agreed. He saw the staff lady bearing a box marked with his favorite logo. “Excuse me,” he told Purdue, “I have to go and alleviate that poor woman’s burden over there, being the gentleman that I am.”

Purdue chuckled as Don eagerly eased the box from the woman, but his attention was stolen by the headlights coming up the driveway.

“Ah! Smashing!” he exclaimed and went to welcome the occupant of the taxi. “Professor Megalos, how kind of you to agree to help us out,” Purdue smiled as the Greek professor cowered up to the front porch of the massive manor with the hood of his coat pulled forward to cover his forehead.

“It's good to be here, Mr. Purdue,” he panted as he and the driver crossed the front door threshold. Only after he tipped the driver for bringing in his luggage could he finally remove his hood and give his host the proper attention. “Costa Megalos, at your service,” he said charmingly and shook Purdue’s hand.

“Is it Heidmann or Zorba the Greek?” they heard Don shout from the billiards room. Purdue looked mortified, but Costa had a hearty chuckle.

Don peeked in and did not flinch at the sight of the professor, not worried in the least that he may have offended. He shifted his bottle of stout into the other hand and extended a hand, “Donovan Graham from Dundee. Archeologist. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

Costa grinned and wiped his hands before shaking Don’s hand. “Zorba the Greek from… Greece. How do you do!”

Purdue had to smile at the professor’s welcome sense of humor. One had to be thick skinned and have some crude affability to keep company with Dr. Graham after all.

“How was your trip through the city?” Purdue asked as Costa shed his coat and opted for a brandy near the fireplace.

“Good, good, thanks,” Costa said. “It is not the climate I am used to back home; that is for sure. But the cool rain was a welcome change I must say.”

Shortly after, Heidmann arrived. After all the introductions, Purdue filled them in on the basic plan for his expedition which he called Operation Medusa. He briefed them by just touching on his outline.

“The only snag I have at the moment, gentlemen, is that we cannot yet plan out the rest of the excursion until we know more about the first location. Until we have investigated the warehouse and its contents we will not have a clear idea where to go next,” Purdue lectured while his colleagues took their seats on the casual seats around the snooker table. “All I know is that I am getting Dr. Graham’s forensics people to analyze the composition of the organs found in the broken piece so that we can ascertain how the mysterious transformation occurs. From there on, we will know how to go about the rest.”

“So this other statue was a man from the Second World War? Correct me if I did not understand correctly,” Costa inquired with great interest.

“That’s right,” Heidmann affirmed. “The two entwined figures, which I think Mr. Purdue should have by… tomorrow?” he looked quizzically at Purdue, who nodded to confirm, “… are apparently two much older specimens of the same phenomenon. The statue that broke, however, was from a Nazi concentration camp, from what we could surmise.”

“But you do not know for sure?” Costa asked.

Heidmann shrugged, “We are pretty certain of that.”

“So when do we go to this warehouse?” Costa persisted, answering the urgency of his curiosity while Don watched enthusiasm of the newcomer in silence. He smiled at Purdue as if saying ‘Check out this zealous puppy’, and Purdue returned his sentiments with an almost imperceptible nod. They were amused at the interest shown by the art professor, clearly not accustomed to such adventurous endeavors. It was refreshing.

“In two days. Tomorrow the statues will arrive from London, and Don’s analyst should be here in the morning to check the substance of the damaged piece. The day after we should be ready to travel to the Czech Republic, to Ostrava,” Purdue enlightened them. “From what we managed to get there, I will map our next move, but you will be informed well in advance.”

“So you are not sure how long we will be engaged in this venture, Dave?” Heidmann asked.

“I’m afraid I do not have a definite time frame yet, James, but we should know soon enough,” Purdue assured him.

“Right!” Don groaned as he stood up to get another stout. “Is class dismissed, sir?”

“It is. Enjoy recess, Master Graham,” Purdue chimed.

“Many thanks!” Don exclaimed and headed for the couches in front of the large flat-screen mounted on the wall. “I believe we are playing Denmark.”

After catching up on the details, Heidmann and Purdue played a game of billiards while Costa joined Don. They watched the football match on Sky Sports 1, quickly realizing to their delight that they were fans of the same sport.

“I hope the power holds out,” Heidmann remarked as the windows shuddered under a particularly great clatter of thunder.

“It will. I have an independent source of backup electricity generated by one of my own inventions,” Purdue smiled with his usual laid back demeanor that could put anyone at ease. He was always in control, and it showed in his movement, his voice, and his eyes. It was a relief for James Heidmann to be in the company of such a powerful ally, contrary to the worrisome situations he typically found himself in.

Heidmann always inadvertently plunged himself into the company of unsavory people with bad intentions. Perhaps it was his constant desperation to survive in his world, or maybe he was just a bad judge of character. Yet he found that most of the time he was alone against the world, alone against those who managed to find their way across those carefully burned bridges he could never flee. Now he felt relatively safe for the first time in his long career as a collector.

Though everything was vague in the background of the intense football game, Purdue heard the front door opened by the butler. He was curious about the caller and excused himself from the merriment to investigate. Costa, Don, and James carried on drinking and arguing about everything from sports to the paranormal until the new guest accompanied Purdue into the billiards room.

Purdue raised his voice above the voices and the television broadcast to announce the last member of the expedition.

“Gentlemen, I would like to introduce Dr. Nina Gould, last member of our party. She is an invaluable member of this group, an expert on German history, specifically Nazi Germany and World War II.”

“Jesus!” Don growled unwittingly. Costa slapped him on the back to remind him of his crudeness, which he instantly took note of and made an apologetic gesture.

All three men looked frozen when they laid eyes on the beautiful historian. As Purdue introduced them one by one, they managed basic speech and some form of propriety, but it was evident that the petite 40- year-old with the big, brown eyes had them all weak at the knees. In her one arm, she held a gigantic ginger cat, and when Purdue was done, she lifted the cat slightly and smiled, “And this is Bruichladdich. But he will be staying here at Purdue’s house while we are gone.”

She looked at Purdue and said softly, “I could not get a cat sitter. You know how my neighbors hate me.”

Purdue just chuckled, “It’s perfectly alright, Nina. I don’t care if you brought the Ark with you, as long as you are here.” He kissed her to seal his welcoming but made sure it did not feel romantic for the sake of their colleagues and also because she made it clear that she still resented him.

Nina could not take her eyes off Costa. It was a strange familiarity for a stranger she had not felt since she met Sam. In fact, the Greek’s dark long hair and eyes almost matched Sam’s to a T. Had she not been so smitten by the elegant professor’s charms, his appearance may have dumped her into another bucket of Sam-yearning. But she was feeling great. A renewed excitement for the expedition now fueled Nina’s demeanor.