The Prisoner's Gold

10

Sarah acted as a tour guide, pointing out features of the compound to Maggie, while Cobb silently accompanied them. They eventually wandered out toward the pier, past the palm trees and the interlocking swimming pools, while Sarah told Maggie some details about the Trésor de la Mer, the four-level-high, sixty-five-foot yacht that Papineau usually arrived on.

‘Let’s take a stroll on the beach,’ Cobb said. ‘We need to give Hector time to work, and I’d like to hear more about Maggie’s life.’

Sarah looked at him and knew exactly what he was suggesting.

They angled away from the house and headed toward a small private beach along the edge of the property. As they passed behind a small concrete structure that served both as a storage shed for the pool equipment and a shower to wash off saltwater and sand from the sea, Cobb signaled for them to stop.

Maggie did so without complaint or concern.

She sensed the tour had been for show.

Sarah pulled out a small black device from her pocket. She activated the sensor with a flick of its switch, then moved it around the three of them in a slow arc, as if she were holding up a cell phone and trying to find a single bar of service. When the LED light didn’t illuminate, she knew that they were clean.

‘We’re good,’ she said to Cobb.

‘What is that?’ Maggie asked.

‘It picks up any directed transmissions on a number of frequencies. If there were a bug or a camera anywhere near here, this would detect it.’

‘What about a directional microphone pointed at us from the yacht?’ Cobb asked.

Sarah grinned. ‘I followed your lead and did a rekky on the boat before I stormed into the house like a mad woman looking for Papi. We’re clear.’

‘Good job,’ he said with a smile.

‘I have my moments.’

Cobb nodded and shifted his focus to Maggie. ‘I’m sure you realized that there are a lot of things going on in this group. This spot, for now, is the only place on the compound where you can speak without being filmed or recorded. The next time Sarah and I come out here, if we find it bugged, we’ll know we can’t trust you and you’ll be gone.’

‘I understand,’ Maggie said. ‘I have to earn your trust.’

‘Actually, you already have my trust. The key is not to lose it.’

Maggie smiled. ‘I’ll do my best.’

‘Good. In the meantime, tell us what you found.’

‘You found something already?’ Sarah asked.

‘Maybe,’ Maggie said, not wanting to seem too confident. ‘The last page of the journal had a sentence which loosely translates to: “Soon I will begin my search for the lake that cannot be found.” Obviously I didn’t have a chance to read the entire manuscript, but I got the sense that Rustichello had gathered some clues from Polo and hoped to travel to Asia to find Polo’s treasure for himself. Based on that line alone, I think the lake is a possible location.’

Sarah studied her closely, looking for anything that seemed off. Thanks to years of fieldwork with the CIA, Sarah was a pretty quick judge of character. She assumed that was the main reason that Cobb had asked her to tag along during the tour of the grounds: to get a read on Maggie.

Although Cobb had told Maggie that he trusted her, Sarah knew better. There was no way that Cobb would take her into the field until she was cleared by the team. Garcia had already started digging into Maggie’s background, and McNutt would determine if she could handle herself at the gun range. Meanwhile, Sarah and Cobb would study her every act and comment, probing for anything that might put them at risk. They knew they needed a historian in the field, but they wouldn’t tolerate a liability. If their evaluation produced any red flags, Maggie would be sent back to Asia before Papineau could prevent it.

‘And you know where that is?’ Sarah asked.

Maggie nodded. ‘Lop Nor is a dried-up salt lake in Luozhong in northwest China. It is a former nuclear test site known for the mining operation presently located there.’

‘What do they mine?’ Cobb asked.

‘Potash — for salt and fertilizers,’ Maggie explained. ‘But the lake was famous in antiquity for something else entirely.’

‘And what was that?’ Sarah wondered.

‘The lake moved.’

‘Wait. It did what?’

‘The Tarim River, the body of water that feeds the lake, changes its course periodically. When that happens, the lake itself changes locations while the previous lake dries up. This phenomenon confounded explorers and mapmakers for years until a Swede, Sven Hedin, sorted out the puzzle at the beginning of the twentieth century. Perhaps Marco Polo knew about the wandering lake in the thirteenth century. For all we know, it might have been common knowledge back then and was somehow forgotten along the way.’

‘Like the location of a lost tomb.’

Maggie nodded. ‘Exactly.’

‘And what do you think we’ll find at the lake?’ Cobb asked.

‘I honestly don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘But if it’s okay with you, I was hoping you could ask Hector to use his computer skills to search for satellite coverage of Luozhong. Or is that beyond his capabilities?’

Cobb laughed at the thought. ‘No, that’s definitely in his wheelhouse.’

‘That, and a whole lot more,’ Sarah mumbled.

‘But instead of me asking him,’ Cobb said, ‘I think you should ask him yourself. Not only will he be flattered that you need his help, but it will also give him a chance to make amends.’

‘Amends for what?’ Maggie wondered.

Cobb smiled. ‘For calling you the maid.’