That person and the library would be his bargaining chips.
But all that assumed there was something here to find.
If not, he’d kill Malone and his ex-wife and hope he could lie his way out of trouble.
MALONE STARED AT ONE SIDE OF THE DILAPIDATED BUILDING. Ten feet up loomed one of the bare openings. He walked around to the other side and spied the other portal at a similar height.
He came back to where McCollum and Pam stood and said, “I think I’ve figured it out. The building’s square, as are those two openings.”
“Use square and compass,” Pam said.
He pointed. “Those two openings are the key.”
“What do you mean?” McCollum said. “Going to be kind of tough to get up there.”
“Not really. Look around.” Boulders and rocks littered the sand. “Notice anything about the rocks?”
Pam stepped over to one and squatted down. He watched as she caressed the sides. “Square. About a foot even all around?”
“I’d say that’s right. Remember the clue. Reassemble the fourteen stones, then work with square and compass to find the path. There are fourteen of those things scattered about.”
Pam stood. “Obviously, this quest has a physical part. Not just anyone could reassemble these stones. I assume they’ll provide the boost up to the window?”
He dropped his pack.
So did McCollum, who said, “One way to find out.”
Twenty minutes were needed to gather the fourteen square stones and assemble them into a flat-topped pyramid, six on the bottom, then five, capped by three. If needed, one of the three could be stacked on the remaining two for more height, but Malone estimated the pile was more than tall enough.
He stepped up and balanced himself atop.
McCollum and Pam made sure the tower remained stable.
He gazed through the square opening in the crumbling wall. Through the opposite square, twenty feet away, he spotted mountains half a mile in the distance. At noon, sense the presence of the red light, see the end less coil of the serpent red with anger.
The shrinking building with the battered roof had been deliberately oriented east to west.
This wasn’t a dwelling. No. Like the rose window in Belém, also oriented east to west, it was a compass.
Work with square and compass to find the path.
He checked his watch.
In an hour, he’d do just that.
SEVENTY
MARYLAND
7:30 AM
STEPHANIE DROVE THE SUBURBAN THAT PRESIDENT DANIELS had supplied them. He’d also provided two Secret Service revolvers and spare magazines. She wasn’t quite sure what they were headed into, but apparently he wanted them prepared.
“You realize this truck is probably electronically tagged,” Cassiopeia said.
“We can only hope.”
“And you realize that this whole thing is nuts. We don’t have any idea who to trust, including the president of the United States.”
“No question. We’re pawns on the chessboard. But a pawn can take the king, if properly positioned.”
“Stephanie, we’re bait.”
She agreed, but said nothing.
They cruised into a small town about thirty miles north of Washington, one of countless bedroom communities that encircled the capital. Following the directions given to her, she recognized the name of the glass-fronted restaurant nestled beneath a canopy of leafy trees.
Aunt B’s.
One of Larry Daley’s favorite haunts.
She parked and they stepped inside, greeted by the pungent smell of apple-bacon and fried potatoes. A steaming buffet line was being attacked by eager diners. They bypassed the cashier and spotted Daley sitting alone.
“Get some food,” he said. “On me.” A plate heaped with eggs, grits, and a fried pork chop sat before him.
As agreed, Cassiopeia moved to another table where she could watch the room. Stephanie sat with Daley. “No thanks.” She noticed a colorful sign near the buffet line that showed two oversized pink pigs surrounded by the slogan GET YOUR FAT BACK AT AUNT B’S. She pointed. “That why you eat here? To get your fat back.”
“I like the place. Reminds me of my mother’s cooking. I know you find this hard to believe, but I am a person.”
“Why aren’t you running the Billet? You’re in charge now.”
“It’s being handled. We have a more pressing problem.”
“Like saving your ass.”
He sliced his pork chop. “These things are great. You should eat something. You need a little fat back, Stephanie.”
“So nice of you to notice my trim figure. Where’s your girlfriend?”
“I have no idea. I assume she was sleeping with me to see what she could learn. Which was nothing. I was doing the same thing. Again contrary to what you think, I’m not a complete idiot.”
Per Daniels’s suggestion, she’d called Daley two hours before and requested the meeting. He’d eagerly agreed. What bothered her was why Daniels, if he actually wanted her to talk to Daley, had interrupted the encounter at the museum. But she simply added that quandary to the growing list. “We didn’t finish our conversation.”
“Time for a reality check, Stephanie. The stuff you have on me? Keep it. Use it. I don’t care. If I go down, so does the president. Truth be told, I wanted you to find it.”
She found that hard to believe.
“I knew all about your investigation. That whore you sent my way? I’m not that weak. Do you think that’s the first time a woman has tried to learn things on me? I knew you were digging. So I made it easy for you to find what you wanted. But you took your time.”
“Nice try, Larry. But that dog doesn’t hunt here.”
He worked on a combination of eggs and grits. “I know you’re not going to believe any of this. But for once could you forget you hate my guts and just listen?”
That’s why she’d come.
“I’ve been doing some snooping. Lot of crap swirling. Strange stuff. I’m not privy to the inner circle, but I’m close enough to cop a feel. When I found out you were looking at me, I figured you’d move on me at some point-and when you did, we could deal.”
“Why didn’t you just ask for my help?”
“Get real. You can’t stand to be in the same room with me. You’re going to help me? I figured once you peeped into the window and saw what was happening, then you’d be a lot more receptive. Like you are right now.”
“You still bribing Congress?”
“Yeah. Me and about a thousand other lobbyists. Hell, it should be an Olympic sport.”
She glanced at Cassiopeia and saw nothing that triggered alarm. Families and older couples populated the many tables.
“Forget all that. It’s the least of our concerns,” Daley said.
“I didn’t know we had any concerns.”
“Much more is happening.” He gulped a few swallows of orange juice. “Damn, they load this stuff with sugar. But it’s good.”
“If you eat like this all the time, how do you stay so thin?”
“Stress. Best diet in the world.” He tabled the glass. “There’s a conspiracy going on, Stephanie.”
“To do what?”
“Change the president.”
This was new.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” He shoved the plate aside. “The vice president is in Europe attending an economic summit. But I’ve been told that he left his hotel last night late and went to meet with a man named Alfred Hermann. Supposedly a courtesy visit. But the VP is not a courteous man. He does things for a reason. He’s met with Hermann before. I checked.”
“And discovered that Hermann heads an organization called the Order of the Golden Fleece.”
A look of amazement flooded Daley’s face. “I knew you’d be a help. So you already know about it.”
“What I want to know is why any of that is important.”
“This group cultivates political influence and they have reach all over the world. Hermann and the VP have been friends awhile. I’ve heard talk about him and the Order, but the VP keeps his thoughts fairly close. I know he wants to be president. He’s gearing up to run, but I think he may be looking for a shortcut.”