Mariah Stewart - Last Breath

“There’s another door on the office level,” Stan said without looking up from his book.

“Let’s check it out.” Daria headed for the steps leading to the half level below. “All the offices are down here. I think there are four of them. I haven’t gone into them all, just this first one. If there’s a door to the outside, I missed it.”

She switched on the lights at the bottom of the steps.

“We left the flashlight here on the desk yesterday. And it’s still here.” She tucked it under her arm and stepped back into the hall. “Let’s check out the door. I’m guessing it’s at the very end of this corridor.”

“Lead the way.”

They passed three more glass-paneled doors leading to the other offices. Daria shined the light straight ahead, and at the very end of the hall was another door.

“Could I have the light?” Connor asked and Daria handed it over. He ran the beam around the door frame.

“Like the others,” he said. “No sign of a break-in, at least from this side. Try the key, let’s see if they used the same lock as upstairs.”

Daria took the key from her pocket and tried the lock, but it wasn’t a fit.

“Any idea where this opens?”

“I’d say at the back of the left wing of the building, assuming I haven’t gotten disoriented somehow. We can take a look at the door from the outside when we leave, unless you want to do it now.”

“We’ll do it on our way out.”

“Shall we take a look in the basement?”

“Lead on.”

“Down this way.” Daria beckoned Connor back to the stairwell, then down to the next level. She used the flashlight to find the lights for the hallway.

“It really is dark down here,” he noted. “Dungeon dark.”

“Louise’s secretary thought it was quite creepy.” Daria smiled.

“Don’t you?”

“I’ve been in so many tombs and crypts over the years, it takes a lot to raise my hackles these days. Dark rooms don’t quite do it anymore.” She unlocked the door to the storage room and turned on the overhead light.

Connor followed her inside, then stood with his hands on his hips, taking it all in.

“Where shall we start?” he asked.

“Let’s start with crate number one. It’s there on your right.” Daria walked past him and pointed to the number on the side of the crate. “This is the number Alistair painted on before the crates left the dig. He itemized the contents, sealed it, then marked it. The X up here is mine. It indicates that I have gone through the crate and examined every piece, and marked it off on my list. The list you have in your hand is the one I ran off my computer. It has both mine and Alistair’s checks.”

He placed the list on the top of the crate and studied it.

“So, this item here-necklace of solid gold with gold beech leaves and lapis beads-he packed into the crate and later unpacked, but it was missing when you checked the contents?”

“Right.” She nodded and began to lift the lid.

“Here, let me give you a hand.” Connor picked up the wooden top of the crate with ease and set it aside. “Let’s see what’s in here.”

“Okay, first item here is a goblet, it’s the third item on your list, see?” She unwrapped it carefully and held it up.

“Golden goblet with griffins set with carnelian?”

“Right. See, it’s checked off on both lists.”

“Got it,” he said. “By the way, what is it with griffins?”

She smiled as she rewrapped the goblet. “They’re wonderful mythological beasts. I actually went on an expedition to the Gobi Desert not too long ago in search of proof they really existed.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.”

“And you look so normal.”

Daria laughed and set the wrapped goblet on top of a nearby crate, then reached for the next item, which was enclosed it its own wooden box.

“It was a spoof, of course, and wasn’t something I’d ordinarily have spent time on, but the professor in charge of the expedition was a legend in the field, and I thought, if he could take a month off, I could, too.”

“What did you do? I mean, you didn’t actually find anything?”

“We found exactly what we expected to find. Sometimes animals die in proximity to each other, say, for example, an eagle and a lion. When archaeologists from the past century, century and a half, found them, they often put the bones together incorrectly.”

“Incorrectly, as in, the eagle wings on a lion’s body?”

“Exactly. There was a time when people really did believe that griffins had been found. Dr. Allen-Elwood Allen, from Cambridge -put together the expedition and invited several other archaeologists to go along. I was one of them.”

“What was the point?”

“He was making a documentary for the BBC. It was quite clever, actually. We took bones from different animals found in the Gobi and made up the most fanciful beasts and put them on display. It was great fun.” She carefully removed the next artifact. “Here we have something really unusual. It’s a jar made from an ostrich egg.”

“Ostriches in the Near East?” Connor frowned.

“They were not uncommon several thousand years ago. What is uncommon is that this is in such lovely condition. Old Alistair certainly did treat everything with kid gloves. I’m really impressed with the care he took to ensure that every item made it to the States intact.”

Connor studied the jar for a moment, then referred to the list. “Here it is. Ostrich egg jar. With two check marks. What’s next there?”

Daria took pains to wrap the precious jar securely before setting it aside.

“Let’s see what else we have in here…oh, I love this one.” She grinned and unwrapped what appeared to be carved stone. “This is an amulet, worn to protect against demons.”

Connor leaned closer for a better look.

“I can’t really tell what that is.” He turned on the flashlight and examined the piece. “What are those things?”

“Demons.”

“I thought you said this was supposed to ward off demons.”

“It is. These are particularly fierce ones.”

“My demons are more evil than your demons?”

“Something like that.” She grinned. “They are ugly things, aren’t they?”

“This never gives you nightmares?”

“Never. I don’t do nightmares.” She pointed to the list. “This is fourth or fifth on the list.”

“Got it.”

“Seen enough to get a feel for the situation?”

“I think so.” Connor nodded.

Daria returned the items to the crate and Connor helped her to replace the lid.

“What’s your next move here?” he asked.

“I almost don’t know what to do first,” she said. “I need to compile an official list of what I believe is missing, complete with Alistair’s sketches, and the photographs that were taken at the site, if I can find them. Then I’ll compile a similar list of the items that are still here so that an appraisal can be made of the collection. The university is hoping to use that as collateral for a loan to pay for the repairs to the museum and the preparations for the exhibits.”

“Off the top of your head, what are we looking at here?”

“In terms of value?” She shook her head. “I can’t put a number on it.”

“Ballpark.”

“There are some things that are truly priceless, things that are so unique and valuable that they cannot be reproduced. What is that goblet worth? It’s hard to come up with a price. The gold is high quality, the carvings are beautifully done, add in the age of the item, the fact that there may only be that one in the entire world…” She shrugged. “How do you place a monetary value on that?”

“So you’re saying the collection, in its entirety, could be priceless.”