Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

“Of course. I’ll need you to sign for it when we’re done. As I said, there are a few more questions I need to ask.” He smiled apologetically. “My colleagues in Athens are handling the majority of the investigation, which makes it . . . a bit difficult to coordinate. The one thing they don’t yet know is exactly why Adrian Kyril killed your grandfather.”

“It’s not enough that he did it?” Zoe said.

“Not always. The more we know, the better our case. Is there anything else that you can think of? Maybe you remember something more about what your grandfather was doing in the days before he was killed? Or why he was at that particular cave?”

“I’m sure he mentioned something about looking for Poseidon’s Trident. And he talked about the cave with the bones . . .”

Dimitris looked at the chief. “That has to be it. There were bones in that cave. We saw them. Maybe—”

“Goat bones,” the chief said. “I assure you that this is not that cave—assuming it even exists.” He focused on Zoe. “Did someone actually make an inquiry about Poseidon’s Trident? Someone else was looking for this so-called treasure?”

“Or someone was going to help him find it. I don’t remember, exactly. So much has happened since then.”

The chief leaned back, his chair squeaking. “Try not to take this the wrong way, Zoe. But this is where I’m having trouble with the story. I clearly remember your grandfather claiming to have found Poseidon’s Trident all those years ago. And, if I recall correctly, he was adamant that it wasn’t on Fourni. So why take these people to the Vardia cave?”

She looked down at the book, her eyes welling. “Maybe he was determined to make money off the legend. If someone wanted to see a cave with bones, then why not take them to see a cave with bones?”

“He actually found it?” Remi asked. “Poseidon’s Trident?”

She nodded. “Not that it did any good. After all that trouble, all that time and money, the only thing he brought back was a single coin. And then—” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “When he took it to have it appraised, he found out it was counterfeit. His friends laughed at him.”

The police chief’s dark eyes regarded Zoe with kindness. “You do know that everyone here on Fourni loved Tassos. Why do you think so many people came out to his memorial?”

“I know. But it still hurt him. He tried to tell them that that coin proved the treasure was out there, and that he was going to find it. No one believed him.”

The chief reached for a tissue box on his desk, handing it to her. “Did he ever tell you where it was? The cave?”

“Never. Only that it wasn’t on Fourni.” She pulled a tissue from the box, dabbing it at her eyes. “Is there anything else you need?”

“For now, no. If you could, though, at some time, go through his things. There’s always the chance that we overlooked something.”

She nodded, looked down at the book, then at him. “You said there’s something I need to sign?”

He handed her a pen and the property release form. She signed her name at the bottom, then hurried from the office, Dimitris following her out the door.

“I have a question,” Remi said. “Now that Adrian Kyril’s been arrested, how long will we need to stay here?”

The chief glanced at Sam, then Remi. “Hopefully not that much longer. I promise to let you know the moment I hear.”

Sam thanked the chief, and they left, finding Zoe and Dimitris waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Remi asked Zoe.

She nodded, then motioned them to follow her. Once outside on the street, she held up the small book. “It occurred to me that my grandfather did tell me where the cave was.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Dimitris asked.

“I had a feeling that if I did, the chief wouldn’t let me keep this. It’s in here. It’s always been in here.”

Sam and Remi exchanged glances as Zoe opened the book. She turned to the last page, showing them a pencil sketch of a rather strange face drawn on it. The eyes were angled and angry, the mouth wide open and filled with sharp teeth. Something like a lion’s mane framed the entire head, and a long tail-like thing seemed to be growing out of the top.

Sam eyed the face. “What makes you think this picture is anything significant?”

“That’s the problem,” Zoe said. “I don’t know. I only remember him telling me that if I ever wanted to find Poseidon’s Trident, this is where it was.” She closed the book, then hugged it close to her chest. “Before you insist that I turn it over to the police, I was only a little girl when he drew that. I can’t imagine it has any significance.”

“Actually,” Sam said, “I was going to suggest that we all sit down over coffee, then find what, if anything, is so important about this book.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

The four of them, Sam, Remi, Zoe, and Dimitris, walked around the corner to Skavos’s café, finding an empty table on the patio. While Dimitris went inside to place their order, Sam brought over extra chairs, then took a seat next to Remi.

“About this sketch . . . ?” Sam said to Zoe as Dimitris returned.

“I only have a vague remembrance of when he drew it. All I recall was that he insisted that it would lead me to Poseidon’s Trident.” She looked down at the slim volume, running her fingers over the blue cloth cover. “I was wondering what happened to this. That’s just so odd he’d have it with him.”

“Obviously,” Dimitris said, “there’s more to the story than we all thought.”

“I don’t know how.” Zoe looked around the café. “There’s probably not a person here who wasn’t read this story as a child. Most could probably recite it by heart.”

Sam glanced at the book. “What’s it about?”

“Two boys who were searching for Poseidon’s Ear run into pirates burying treasure.”

“Poseidon’s Ear?” Sam said.

“The Ear was the name of the cave where they could speak directly to Poseidon. My grandfather used to tell me that’s where Poseidon’s Trident is buried.”

Remi eyed the book, then Zoe. “How sure are you that Poseidon’s Trident is the name of the treasure?”

“I don’t know.” After a moment, she gave a slight shrug. “I had always assumed that was the name because of the way my grandfather described it. Why?”

“I was talking to a woman from Samos at the memorial. According to her, Poseidon’s Trident was a place, not a treasure. I don’t know if that makes a difference, but she seemed fairly adamant about the matter.”

“I have to agree with the chief,” Sam said. “If the story, or the sketch, is supposedly a map or a hint of where the real cave is, why take Kyril and his men to the one here on Fourni? What do the bones have to do with anything?”

Zoe exchanged glances with Dimitris. “There’s a darker version of the tale,” she said. “About the two boys having died inside the cave, and their ghosts remaining to protect the treasure.”

Dimitris gave a sheepish smile. “I may have used that version to scare Zoe when we were younger.”

“You and every other boy on the island,” she said. “When I told my grandfather what everyone was saying, he assured me it couldn’t be true.” She gave a faraway smile. “According to him, that story was proof. It had to have been the two brothers who lived to tell the tale, because the pirates would never have given up the location of their secret hoard.”

Sam asked to see the book. Zoe handed it over, and he looked through pages, seeing several pen and ink illustrations. The first was of two boys in a small boat. Another was of an ancient sailing ship with oars lining either side, an angry eye at the prow. The writing, of course, was in Greek. “It’s about pirates?” Sam asked.