David Gibbins - The Mask of Troy

‘My God,’ Raitz said. ‘My God. What have I done? ’

‘What you can do,’ Jack said, kneeling down in front of him, ‘is help us. We need to know whether Saumerre was operating solely for his own business interests. Such a weapon could be worth millions. Billions. We need to know whether he is interested as a middleman, or whether there was any other motivation. Did he say anything, did you hear anything? If I believe you, that’s another mark in your favour with the courts.’

Raitz looked pale, and put his hand to his forehead. His voice was shaky. ‘I can’t think of anything. Anything at all. We only ever spoke about it in the British Museum where we first met, where he passed me the code document, and then in that ghastly flat in London where they murdered the Dutchman. It was only ever family interest with him. The family business. Marseille mafia. It was just money.’

Costas nodded at him, still keeping the Beretta trained. ‘Just out of curiosity. What’s Saumerre’s religion?’

‘Saumerre? Muslim, of course. His grandfather was from Algeria. So what? There are millions of Muslims in Algeria, in France. And look at him. He’s hardly a terrorist.’

‘Who is?’ Costas murmured.

‘He did say something. When we parted at that flat.’ Raitz stared at Jack, clearly thinking hard, then sank down and put his head in his hands. ‘Oh my God. Oh my God. Why didn’t I see?’

Jack reached over and lifted his head up. ‘What?’

‘I said I was doing this for the Fuhrer. For the cause. For a museum, God help me. He said something in Arabic, about Allah, but then seemed apologetic, as if he’d let something slip. I thought it was odd, as he’d been so adamant about this being all to do with gold and antiquities and money. But I thought he was just repeating a familiar phrase. I remember it. It was Jazaka Allahu Khairan. May Allah reward us with good. A perfectly normal expression for a Muslim. He even said so, when he explained it. But maybe… my God. My God .’

Jack leaned over and took Raitz’s chin in his hands. ‘Listen to me, and listen well. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, anywhere, my people will know. You’ll be getting that one-way ticket to Diyarbakir. Play your cards right, and I’ll see what I can do for you.’

Jack nodded at Costas, who took the iPhone from his belt and pressed it. Seconds later Ben appeared at the entrance to the chamber flanked by two IMU security men with handguns drawn, and then a team of black-clad Turkish navy commandos with MP-5 sub-machine guns, who quickly filed into the chamber, training their weapons on Raitz and the two bodies, and then kicking the bodies. Jack recognized the officer in charge, did a thumbs-up at him and pointed to Raitz. The officer gestured, and two of his men dragged Raitz to his feet, handcuffed him behind his back, and then pushed him through the entrance and out of sight down the tunnel. They could hear the clatter of a helicopter somewhere close by. Rebecca had come running from her hiding place, and Jack took her in his arms and held her tight.

‘I hope I never see him again,’ Rebecca murmured.

‘Are you all right? Did they touch you? Thank God you’re here.’

Rebecca shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine. What about you?’

One of the security team, a woman, passed them each a small water bottle, and they uncapped and drained them together, then clicked the bottles together. Jack smiled at her. ‘I’m fine. A little tired.’ He gestured at Ben and the security team. ‘Bet they’re itching to hear your story.’

Costas came up to them, and eyed Rebecca shrewdly. ‘Nice kick. Ouch.’

‘Ben taught me that.’

Jack nodded at Ben, who had joined them. ‘Yeah, he’s pretty good like that.’

Ben nodded, and looked intently at him. ‘Got a result?’

Jack handed him the notebook. ‘Got a result.’

‘I’m on to it.’ Ben tapped his BlackBerry, Googling the name. ‘Saumerre. Keynote speaker at a European Union cultural affairs conference in Brussels today.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Should be on the podium in roughly forty-five minutes.’

‘Okay. He’s going to be on tenterhooks waiting for a result from here. I imagine Raitz would have been planning to call him about now. Get Raitz’s cell phone and try the contact numbers. I want to be on the phone with Saumerre before he makes that speech.’

‘What are you going to say to him?’

‘I’m going to tell him that I know everything about his criminal activities. Enough to destroy his political career. That career is undoubtedly crucial to his, shall we say, business interests, as well as to the bigger picture that may lie behind all this. He won’t want to jeopardize his status and influence, as that’s worth a huge amount to him, to the organization he may represent.’

‘Fill me in.’

‘We need to check any affiliation he might have with extremist Islamist terrorism.’

Ben peered at him. ‘Okay. Got you.’

‘What’s the latest on the bunker?’

‘We’ve been overtime on that one. My people have scoured everything they can get their hands on that’s not under the Official Secrets Act, and called in a few favours to see some things we shouldn’t have. We knew the site of the camp was under a NATO airbase built fairly soon after the war. The construction workers came across a pit full of hundreds of skeletons, all shot. We now think we can pin the likely location of that sector of forest with the bunker to an area well within the military compound, actually beneath the runway tarmac. That’s good news as far as we’re concerned, Jack. Nobody’s going to go burrowing around there and it’s about as secure a site as you could get. It’s still an active base, two Luftwaffe squadrons flying Tornados. The question is, how long will that last, with the Cold War standoff finished and so many bases being mothballed?’

‘Have you told anyone in the military about the bunker yet?’

‘You said to hang fire, and I’ve done that. It’s your call. When they built the base, there was no ground-penetrating radar, but any survey today in advance of new building work might reveal it. The runways get resurfaced routinely but are pretty old underneath, and at some point they’ll redo them if the base is kept running. There’s probably no structural issue with the bunker under the runway, as it’ll be buried very deep, but if you’re right, we may need to think about whether our NATO pilots should be taxiing and landing with JDAMs and who knows what other munitions with something just beneath their runway that may contain a deadly biological weapon.’

‘Okay. Good work. I’ll give you my decision when we’re out of here. Meanwhile, let’s catch Saumerre on the phone.’

‘I’m on to it.’

Rebecca waved at the other security people she knew, then detached herself from Jack and went down the passageway. Jack watched her stop and stare at the rubble wall, and then turn back to him. ‘Dad. I forgot to say. That ring Maurice found here, the signet ring? It was George Hoar. A famous American senator who knew Schliemann.’

Jack knew he had seen it before. ‘Of course. Hugh has Hoar’s copy of Schliemann’s Mycenae. The bookplate with the coat of arms in the front.’

Rebecca waved, then turned and spoke intently to the others, gesturing. Jack remembered Dillen’s account from Hugh of Schliemann’s foreman, and the men he had seen here that night in 1890. What was George Hoar doing here? Had Schliemann invited him to see this wonder he had begun to uncover? Jack remembered reading Hoar’s speeches to the US Senate against imperialism. Had Schliemann wanted to tell others what he thought had happened here, others who might find hope in this chamber for avoiding war in the future?