Remi nodded and joined him, trailed by Lazlo and Leonid.
A pile of at least fifty wooden crates, three feet by two feet by two, were piled in the center of the small grotto. Lazlo kneeled in front of the nearest and brushed away a layer of mold, then turned to Sam and Remi. “It’s kanji. Identifies the crates as property of the emperor. Bit cheeky, that…”
“How can we open some of these safely?” Leonid asked.
“Good question,” Sam said. “If we’re careful and on the lookout for pressure plates, spring-loads, and the like, we should be okay. We can work on a couple of them, but I’d like to get spotlights in here, as well as some specialists, before we try to open more than a few. The good news is, I can’t think of many booby traps that would still be operational years after the fact. But still, don’t touch anything, just in case they used a contact poison on the surfaces or the contents. Anything’s possible — I just don’t know enough about what was in use during the war to be certain.”
Remi pointed at a crate near the edge of the pile. “Let’s try this one.”
Sam moved to her and set his backpack down. After eyeing the crate, he handed Remi his flashlight and removed a crowbar from the bag and set it on the ground next to his machete.
“How are you going to do this?” Remi asked.
“I’m thinking I core a hole in the top rather than try to pry the lid off. Prying would be the obvious way of opening it, so that’s the way I’ll avoid.”
He went to work with the machete, scraping away the soft outer wood, and then grinding the harder inner area until there was a fist-sized hole in the top of the crate. He sat back, put the machete down, and took his light back from Remi as she kneeled next to him. They exchanged a long glance, and then he leaned over the hole and blew away wood dust and chips. Remi shined her light inside while they both looked through the opening.
“Well, what is it?” Leonid asked impatiently.
“Yes, do tell,” Lazlo said.
“Fabric,” Sam said, unfolding his knife again. “Looks like a sack.” He reached into the hole and sliced at the fabric, which crumbled to dust at his touch, and then pulled his arm back with a look of revulsion on his face. A large black spider was crawling up his forearm, raising its legs in menace as it neared his elbow. Remi swatted it away with the back of her hand and it scuttled off into the darkness as Lazlo jumped back. Sam’s eyes met hers. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Sam took a deep breath and they both leaned over the hole again, their beams shining into the interior. They stayed that way for a few moments and then sat back. Leonid stepped closer. “Well?”
Remi shook her head and Sam shrugged. “Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. That’s how it goes.”
“What’s in it?” Lazlo demanded, drawing nearer.
Sam’s serious expression cracked and he grinned at Lazlo and winked. “It’s gold, my friend. The crate’s filled with gold.”
CHAPTER 54
Three days later, Fleming and a cadre of police ringed the area in front of the waterfall. Greg and Rob, having experience in demolitions from their Navy SEAL days, had been drafted to confirm the crates weren’t still booby-trapped from eons ago. Lazlo helped document the contents of each crate under the watchful eyes of Chief Fleming and a gemstone expert he’d brought in from Australia. In addition to the gold shaved off the temple walls, the treasure consisted of crudely formed gold icons and hundreds of pounds of raw gemstones.
Roadworking equipment had been brought in and had cleared access to the waterfall. Soon, police vans, two official government SUVs, and a fleet of media vehicles were parked in the clearing.
Sam and Remi stood beneath a makeshift fabric shelter that shielded them from the spray of the waterfall. Lazlo’s head poked out of the brush by the edge of the waterfall. He waved and made his way to the tent, wiping his brow and smiling in triumph. Leonid appeared a few moments later, trailing the Englishman.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to tell you that we opened three more crates and all have raw diamonds and rubies in them,” Lazlo said in a low voice to Sam as though he didn’t want Fleming to hear.
“Nice to know the hoard keeps growing,” said the chief with a big smile. He was standing behind Leonid and had caught every word.
“How’s your case against you-know-who coming?” Remi asked.
Fleming glanced around and leaned toward them. “There’s talk of a special tribunal. The scope of her crimes is so massive that nobody’s completely sure how to proceed. The Aussies have already put in an official request to charge her as an accomplice to the murder of the aid workers. And then we have all the families, who are demanding immediate justice. So everyone wants a piece.”
“Any chance she gets off on a technicality?” Sam asked.
“None at all. The only question is whether Solomon Island law can be changed to allow the death penalty for crimes against humanity. Apparently, that’s being discussed. Public opinion is crying for her head, so it could happen. Our people are shocked and angry.”
“I don’t blame them for an instant,” Remi said. “Any news on the evil old grandfather?”
Fleming nodded. “Died in his sleep in 1988. He changed his name after the war and kept to himself on a ranch in the Australian outback.”
Sam and Remi had to pause to answer more questions about the treasure trove from a score of reporters as cameras flashed like strobe lights in a disco.
When they had finished, Sam turned to Lazlo and smiled. “You’d better prepare your speech.”
“Speech? What could I possibly say?”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’ll soon be a national hero as soon as it’s announced that the treasure will be used to build schools, a new hospital with clinics all around the island, and of course a first-rate road system. Then once we’re done splitting the percentage the island is giving all of us…”
Lazlo’s mouth dropped open. “What percentage?”
Remi raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. “Oh, didn’t we mention that? The government’s giving us ten percent. Even the most conservative valuation after paying expedition expenses should net you many millions.”
“Blimey.”
Sam smiled at Lazlo’s reaction. “Congratulations, Lazlo. Your days as a pauper are behind you.”
“Does Leonid know?”
Sam shook his head. “Not yet. I was just getting ready to tell him.”
“This I have got to see for myself.”
They made their way to where Leonid was studying an image carved on a flat piece of rock. Sam and Lazlo watched expectantly as Remi broke the news. The Russian’s face didn’t even twitch.
Sam nudged him with his elbow. “Come on. Tell me you aren’t happy about this.”
There was no mirth in Leonid’s eyes. “Not if I have to participate in primitive displays of gratitude. Or if I’m going to have to work here for at least another five years.”
“But you’ll have all the money you can spend on future expeditions,” said Remi.
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“It’s a done deal, my friend,” Sam assured him.
“They’ll probably cheat us on the valuation.”
“I doubt it,” Sam tried again.
“You watch.”
Lazlo caught Remi’s eye and shook his head. They both laughed as Sam sighed in frustration.
Leonid swatted at a mosquito, his expression as somber as a mortician’s. “I’ll probably catch malaria or some sort of weird jungle fever, before this is over, and spend all the money on air evacuation and hospitalization.”