Eddie shot him a wry grin. ‘Maybe you should help me.’
‘The by-product of a classical education, nothing more. My speciality has always been international law. Unfortunately, I doubt that will be much help to you.’ Seretse read on — then leaned forward with sudden intrigue. ‘Ah…’
‘You’ve found someone?’
‘Perhaps. She is no longer connected with the IHA — she resigned a few years ago — but amongst her many areas of expertise is New Testament archaeology, and she even still lives here in New York.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Eddie proclaimed. ‘Give her a call.’
Seretse seemed faintly pained. ‘There is one small issue.’
‘What is it?’
‘She… dislikes you. And she especially dislikes Nina.’
‘Why would anyone from the IHA dislike me? Don’t you bloody even…’ he added, catching Seretse’s expression. ‘And who hates Nina that much?’
The diplomat turned the laptop to face him, revealing a personnel file, complete with photograph. Eddie recognised the pinched-faced elderly woman immediately. ‘Oh for fuck’s sake. Why’d it have to be her?’
‘Ah, Oswald,’ said Professor Maureen Rothschild, welcoming the United Nations official into her apartment. ‘A pleasure to see you again. It’s been, what, three years?’
‘The reception at the Egyptian consulate, I believe,’ Seretse replied, kissing her cheek.
‘Yes, I think it was.’ She moved to close the door, but her visitor remained in front of it. With a quizzical look, she continued: ‘So what brings you here this late?’
He hesitated before answering. ‘It is a… delicate matter. We need your help.’
‘We? Do you mean the United Nations, or the IHA?’
‘Actually, this is more a personal request. From myself, as a friend, but also from… someone you know.’ He moved aside — to reveal Eddie as he stepped through the door.
‘Ay up, Maureen,’ said the Englishman, faking a smile. ‘Remember me?’
The elderly academic had long been a thorn in Nina’s side, their mutual dislike dating back even before his wife’s discovery of Atlantis. Rothschild had a few years earlier been appointed as director of the IHA — whereupon her first act had been to shut down Nina’s work. Her disdain for Eddie was simply through association, although from the way she regarded him, he couldn’t help wondering if he had just tracked something unpleasant on to her carpet. ‘Yes, I remember Mr Chase,’ said Rothschild dismissively. ‘What does he want?’
‘Your help,’ Seretse told her.
‘My help?’ she scoffed. ‘Why should I help him? He and his wife were the main reason why I had to resign from the IHA after that fiasco in Egypt. You know, being forced to leave a high-profile organisation under a cloud does not do wonders for your résumé. If I hadn’t already had tenure, I’m sure the university would have loved to shuffle me into early retirement—’
‘Nina’s been kidnapped,’ Eddie cut in.
That silenced her, if only for a moment. ‘That’s… terrible,’ she said, with a marked lack of conviction. ‘I hope she’s recovered safe and well.’
‘So do I. That’s why I’m here. The people who’ve got her are religious nuts who think she can take them to something mentioned in the Book of Revelations. Ozzy’ — a glance at Seretse, who held in a weary sigh at the diminutive — ‘reckons you’re the best person to work out how to beat ’em to it. At short notice,’ he added. ‘Who lives right here in New York.’
‘How wonderful to get such a glowing recommendation,’ Rothschild said acidly.
‘But you are the best,’ said Seretse, smoothly moving to soothe her ego. ‘There are surely few people who could match your knowledge of the Bible from both an archaeological and a mythological perspective.’
Rothschild regarded him through narrowed eyes, but his appeal to her professional vanity had worked. ‘I can at least hear you out, I suppose,’ she said. ‘Come in.’
She led the way into a lounge. It wasn’t what Eddie had pictured; his past dealings with her had led him to expect the domain of a mean-spirited Victorian schoolmistress, but the furnishings had more of a bohemian feel, with lots of plump cushions. A large black and grey dog of indeterminate breed was sprawled on the floral carpet like a shaggy rug, its tail giving the new arrivals a single lazy wag before it settled back into sleep.
‘Nice dog,’ said Eddie.
‘Horrible, smelly old thing,’ Rothschild replied, with evident affection. ‘Now, what’s this Biblical mystery I can apparently help you solve?’ She sat in an armchair, directing the two men to a sofa.
Eddie stepped over the dog to reach it. ‘It’s in the Book of Revelations—’
‘Revelation,’ she interrupted, with heavy emphasis on the last letter. ‘It’s a singular revelation, not plural. Not that I would expect the uneducated or ignorant to care about the importance of a single s.’
‘You’re right, I don’t give a hit. But whatever it’s called, these nutters really believe in it. They’re making Nina find the angels of Revelationnnnuhhh,’ he said with mocking exaggeration.
Rothschild ignored his sarcasm, deep thought already evident on her brow. ‘Revelation is full of angels. “Thousands upon thousands”, to quote it, and then specifically the four standing at the corners of the earth, the seven who blow the trumpets, another four bound at the Euphrates who are sent to wipe out a third of mankind…’
‘Those last four sound like something people might want to get hold of. The kind of people me and Nina have dealt with before, anyway.’
Her scathing tone returned. ‘Yes, you two do seem to be an almost magnetic draw for megalomaniacs, murderers and terrorists.’
‘But if there is potentially some kind of threat to the world,’ Seretse pointed out, ‘then it does become the responsibility of the IHA’s experts. Even those who no longer work for the agency.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said begrudgingly. ‘But what are they?’
‘Some sort of statues,’ Eddie told her. ‘They’re making Nina look for places mentioned in Revelation. The Throne and Synagogue of Satan, she said.’
Rothschild sat up. ‘The Throne of Satan?’
‘You have heard of it?’ Seretse asked. ‘You know where it is?’
‘Of course I do!’ She sounded almost affronted. ‘It’s an early Christian name for the Altar of Zeus, from Pergamon in modern-day Turkey. Every archaeologist worth their salt would figure that out in five minutes or less. I don’t know what it says about Nina if she couldn’t.’
‘She did work it out,’ Eddie realised. ‘Of course she bloody did. She just didn’t tell them — she started looking for the other ones first!’
‘Why would she do that?’ said the diplomat.
‘To buy time. The longer she can keep these arseholes from finding the angels, the longer she’ll stay alive. I didn’t believe for a minute that the guys who tortured me were going to let me go home afterwards, and I bet Nina thinks the same.’
‘You were tortured?’ Rothschild asked, shocked.
Eddie pointed at the cuts on his face. ‘I didn’t get these shaving. But this altar — is there anything on it about angels?’
She shook her head. ‘No, not that I know of. It’s a pre-Christian relic; all the gods on it are Greek.’
‘It’s definitely the same thing from Revelation, though?’
‘Absolutely. Pergamon, or Pergamum, is mentioned several times in the text, and the altar itself is a major archaeological treasure. I’m actually a good friend of the man overseeing its restoration, Dr Markus Derrick.’