The visitor reached down and grabbed the television remote and hit the power button. The flatscreen hanging in the far corner flicked to life. He changed the channel to one of the local news outlets and turned up the volume.
The sports anchor was showing Australian football highlights. When he finished, the screen displayed the score for a moment and then switched to one of the main anchors. The white text in the top corner of the screen displayed the words Murder at the Museum.
"In our top local story, it has just been confirmed that Wilbur Kurt — director of Sydney's Metropolitan Museum of Art — was found dead this morning in the basement of the museum. Authorities have confirmed that this is a homicide investigation. It appears Kurt died from multiple gunshot wounds. Police believe it was an execution-style murder and could have been carried out by someone he trusted."
Annie covered her mouth with her fingers. Her wide eyes filled with horror. A low screech escaped her lips.
The news anchor continued. "For most of the day, there were no suspects in the case, and security cameras seem to have failed. We now know, however, the authorities have a released the name of a suspect: Annie Guildford — longtime friend and colleague of Kurt — is being dubbed the prime murder suspect. Police have searched Guildford's home, but have not been able to locate her. No motive has been established at this time. If you see Guildford or know anything concerning her whereabouts, please contact the New South Wales Police. She is likely armed and extremely dangerous."
"What?" Annie said in disbelief. "I didn't… how did…"
"How did you kill your longtime friend and colleague?"
"No!" she shouted. "You're a monster!" Annie jumped out of the bed and rushed him.
He stood quickly and punched her in the gut before she could block it. She doubled over and fell to the floor in a sobbing heap.
"Why?" she moaned amid a flood of tears. "Why did you kill him?"
"I'd be more concerned with why the police think you did it, Annie. Wilbur wasn't a good person. I paid him. After all, he's the reason you're here right now."
She clutched her abdomen with both hands and remained in a fetal position for another minute before she rolled over onto her other side. It took one more minute before she sat up.
"What are you talking about?" she said through clenched teeth.
"Wilbur worked for me. I paid him to let me know if anyone ever found anything by Mathews."
Disbelief flowed from her eyes. It covered her entire face. How was that possible? She'd known Wilbur for decades. Now he was dead, and he'd taken money from this man to betray her?
"I know it's a lot to take in, Annie. I didn't want things to have to go this way, but you see, I always get what I want."
Annie grimaced as she pushed herself up from the floor. A fresh surge of pain ripped through her gut. "All this time I've been locked in this room, no one has told me what it is you want. Your men have come to see me over and over again, asking me questions, seeking answers I don't have. Not one time has anyone even mentioned to me what all this is about. So, whoever you are, would you please just do me the honor of telling me what is going on and exactly what it is you're looking for? I mean, who knows, maybe I can help you."
She sounded beyond desperate. Her hands hung loose at her sides. She spoke the truth. Annie just wanted some answers. If she couldn't escape or wasn't going to get out of this alive, the least she could do was learn what was going on.
The man considered her plea for a moment and then answered. "You may call me Bernard. And I am looking for a treasure of incredible value."
"Yes, I know," she said. "I got that much out of your men. But what treasure? What could be so valuable to someone like you that you have to kidnap an innocent woman and murder an innocent man?"
He raised a finger. "Ah, but Wilbur was not innocent. Remember?"
Annie still wasn't sure she believed what Bernard said about Wilbur betraying her, but for the moment she went with it. "Fine."
"As to the treasure, it will be one of the greatest finds of all time."
She put her hands on her hips. "Is that what all this is about? Your ego? You want to strut around with some treasure you found so you can get attention from the world?"
"Hardly." He almost laughed at the notion.
"Then what is it?" she begged. "You obviously don't need the money."
Bernard thought for another minute before responding. What could it hurt? When Jack found the treasure, Annie would be taken into the outback where she'd be bitten by a venomous snake. The press would have a field day with it. He could see the headlines now. Murder suspect killed by poisonous snake while trying to evade police. Of course, they wouldn't find the body for weeks, not until an anonymous tip from a camper came along.
"Very well, Annie. If it will help you get some sleep — which you obviously need — I'll tell you what it is I'm looking for.
"In the many Aborigine creation myths, there is one that stands above all others: the story of Baiame."
She thought fast to keep up. Baiame? That was the name she'd seen on the Mathews document.
Bernard kept going. "Baiame was the greatest of the deities, the creator of all things."
"You don't strike me as the religious type."
He smirked. "Oh, I'm not. But in this case, I'm willing to go on a little faith. Anyway, this Baiame character was revered by the Aborigines. Some still worship him to this day."
She wanted to ask where this whole story was going, but she decided against it. She'd already felt his wrath once.
"One of the myths surrounding Baiame refers to his great boomerang, a powerful weapon, but also one of the tools he used for creation. It is said that all boomerangs were designed from the great boomerang of Baiame."
Bernard paused for a moment to let the climax of his story build. "This boomerang can be seen on a cave ceiling in Milbrodale. It's been a historical attraction for a great many years. I'd heard stories, of course, about the great boomerang — how it was made of gold and could create life or destroy entire civilizations. For a long time, I didn't give the legends much credence. That is, until you stumbled upon the Mathews document."
Annie slumped back onto the edge of her mattress. "Are you telling me that all of this is about a mythical golden boomerang? That's it?"
Bernard put his hands behind his back and raised up on his tiptoes. He lowered himself back down and then drew in a deep breath through his nostrils. "As you mentioned before, Annie, I don't need the money. Even at its most outrageous sum, the golden boomerang of Baiame would be a drop in the bucket for someone like me."
"Then why?"
"Some men in my position are passionate about attention. They would seek to find something like this for no other reason than to elevate their egos, as you also suggested. I, however, am not doing it for that reason, either."
She shook her head as she stared at the far wall. "For what, then? What could be worth murdering innocent people?"
"I suppose it takes a little imagination, Annie. I doubt your line of work lends itself much to that sort of thing. As far as my plans for the boomerang, I'll keep those to myself for now. When things begin to unfold, you'll be one of the first to know."
He turned his back to her and started walking out of the room.
"You can't get away with this!" she shouted.
"Get away with it?" The man cocked his head to the side and looked over his shoulder. He shot her an expression like she was crazy. "Annie, I most certainly will get away with it. Who will stop me?"
Chapter 16