Kingdom of Darkness (45 page)

‘There was still a load of water in the pool, though,’ Eddie pointed out. ‘Andreas was taking a gamble that someone wouldn’t just drop buckets on ropes.’

‘The whole place was designed to channel people right to the statue,’ Nina countered. ‘Even if I hadn’t pointed Kroll there, he would have gone to it anyway. How could he resist? And like I said, it targeted arrogance, hubris. No self-respecting Alexander wannabe would waste time lowering buckets when they can literally wrest control of the Spring of Immortality from his hands. And Andreas knew that.’ She looked up at the arch. ‘For good or bad, there’s only one man of Alexander the Great’s stature in all of history – and Andreas wanted to make sure that remained the case. He and his followers built the whole place to honour him and his achievements . . . while at the same time eliminating anyone who might become the
next
Alexander.’

‘The question is,’ Zane said, ‘what do we do now? About the spring, I mean. The cave has collapsed, but the water’s still down there. We stopped the Nazis from getting it, but I don’t want the Iranians to have it either.’

‘We leave it down there,’ Nina said firmly. ‘Close the secret door and bury it. If anyone finds it again, they won’t realise its significance – it’ll just be an archaeological curiosity.’

‘But what if somebody comes looking for the Nazis?’ asked Banna.

‘Like who?’ hooted Eddie. ‘The Revolutionary Guard won’t give a crap what happened to them. They took their money and left. If they think about ’em at all, it’ll be like they disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle.’

‘A new legend – thirty men come into the forest searching for the Spring of Immortality, and are never seen again,’ said Nina. ‘The Last Nazis. I quite like the sound of that.’

Zane gave her an approving smile. ‘It has a nice finality to it. Hopefully it’ll be the CSU’s last ever operation.’

Eddie stood and went to the entrance. ‘Come on, then. We’ve got some digging to do.’

They dragged the bodies of the Nazi sentries into the inner tunnel, then pushed the hidden door closed and shovelled soil back into the excavated opening. When the arch was finally covered again, they set off down the hill, leaving behind the secret of the Kingdom of Darkness.

Epilogue

Miami, Florida

Seventeen Days Later

‘I’m not sure I can do this,’ Nina whispered.

‘You’ll be okay,’ Eddie assured her as they approached the casket following the service. The line of mourners in the chapel was long; Macy had been a popular and sociable young woman, while her parents were wealthy and well connected in Miami and beyond. ‘I’m sure the funeral people made her look . . . good.’

‘No, I don’t mean seeing her in – in the coffin.’ Grief clenched Nina’s throat at the thought of saying her last goodbye. ‘I meant . . . her mom and dad.’ She glanced ahead, to where Amir and Isabel Sharif were waiting. ‘How can I face them after this? After what I—’

‘You
didn’t
do it,’ he said, gently but firmly. ‘They know that. They’ve been told what happened.’

‘But what if they blame me? What if they think I got their daughter killed?’

‘Then they’re wrong.’ But he had no more advice to offer, his own heart as heavy as hers.

They reached the casket. It took all of Nina’s will to raise her gaze to the figure inside it. Macy lay with her eyes closed as if in a serene sleep. Eddie had been right about the work of the funeral directors: they had made her as beautiful as she had been in life. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, eyes filling with tears. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry . . .’

Her husband stood by her in stoical silence, though his own shimmering eyes revealed his true feelings. Both looked at their friend for the last time, then reluctantly moved on.

Nina took Eddie’s hand and squeezed it tightly as they approached Macy’s parents. Isabel regarded them uncertainly before recognition sparked in her eyes. ‘You’re Nina, aren’t you? Nina Wilde?’

‘Yes, I am,’ Nina replied. ‘I am so, so sorry about Macy. She was . . . she had so much energy, she helped me see things in new ways. She was – she was my friend. I’m sorry,’ she repeated, bracing herself for the worst; despite Eddie’s attempts to convince her otherwise, she still felt responsible. Macy’s mother and father could well blame her too . . .

But there was no explosion of fury or outrage. ‘Macy told me so much about you. She . . . she idolised you,’ Isabel said, her emotions clear despite her soft, controlled voice. ‘She said you helped her decide what she wanted to do with her life.’

Amir was more open with his feelings, anger underlying his grief. ‘A man from the United Nations, Oswald Seretse, gave us the official report on what happened to Macy,’ he said. ‘But that didn’t tell us what we wanted – what we
needed
to know.’ He fixed Nina with an intense gaze. ‘Our daughter – did she . . . suffer?’

Nina was silent for a long moment. ‘No,’ she finally said, shaking her head. ‘No, it was very quick. I don’t think she did.’ She closed her eyes, seeing Macy’s fear-filled face looking back at her, and tried not to sob.

The reply was what the Sharifs had wanted to hear, though. ‘Thank you,’ whispered Amir. Isabel clutched his hand, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Thank you.’

‘If there’s anything we can do . . .’ said Nina.

‘That’s very kind, but . . . no, thank you.’ He put his arms around his wife and held her close.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Eddie told them. The line of mourners was building up behind; as much as he wanted to say more, he did not want to monopolise Macy’s parents. He accepted their silent thanks and ushered Nina on.

Many of those who had already paid their respects were still milling in the chapel, talking quietly. One visitor, however, had drawn attention even from those who didn’t know him personally; for once, Grant Thorn was uncomfortable with that situation. He appeared almost relieved to see Eddie and Nina, and gestured them to join him and his companion, Marvin Bronze. The Hollywood star wore a black silk suit, his normally gelled hair for once combed flat. ‘Grant, hi,’ Nina said, giving him a brief embrace. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he replied, tight-lipped, then: ‘No. Not really. This is all . . . you know? Too much.’

Eddie nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Me too, man. It’s . . . it’s not fair.’ He sighed. ‘She coulda been a star, you know? She really had something. The first time I met her, when I helped you with that thing in New York? I thought she was just some—’ He glanced towards Macy’s parents, then lowered his voice. ‘Just some bimbo. But she wasn’t. She was way more than that.’ He sniffed. ‘We had so much fun together. And now she’s – she’s gone . . .’

Marvin patted his shoulder. ‘It’s okay. You’re okay.’

The reply was little more than a whisper. ‘I don’t know if I am.’ Grant wiped his eyes, then turned back to the couple. ‘This might not be the best place to talk business, but . . . buying the movie rights to your book, Nina? I don’t think we’ll be doing that. Not right now, it’s . . . it’s too soon. You were right: real people get hurt doing what you do.’ He looked at the coffin, then lowered his head, unable to bear the sight. ‘It’s not just fun and games any more.’

‘It never was,’ she said sadly.

‘Maybe I’ll see you around sometime,’ he said. ‘I’ve still got a place in New York, so . . . who knows, huh?’ An attempt at a smile, as convincing as any of his other acting, then he put his arms around Eddie and hugged him. The Englishman returned the gesture. ‘The people who did this to her . . . you got them, right?’

‘I got them,’ Eddie replied. ‘All of ’em.’

‘Thanks, dude. Thank you.’ He released Eddie and shook his hand.

‘I’m sure you two want some time to yourselves,’ Marvin said. ‘Grant, let’s leave all these good people in peace, huh? Macy’s family have enough pain without having to deal with the paparazzi.’

Nina remembered seeing a couple of photographers outside the funeral home, but had not made the connection with Grant until now. ‘They’re waiting for you?’

‘Yeah,’ said the star with a glum nod. ‘They’ve been tailing me ever since I arrived in Miami.’

‘Vultures,’ growled Marvin. ‘Even at a funeral they won’t leave him alone.’

Eddie looked towards the door. ‘You want me to beat ’em up for you? Be just like old times.’

Grant gave his former bodyguard a tired smile. ‘That’d be cool, but . . . I guess I’ve got to deal with this myself. Come on, Marv.’ He and his business partner said their farewells and departed, camera flashes from outside surprising some of the mourners before the doors swung shut.

‘We should go too,’ said Eddie.

‘Yeah, but . . . let’s wait a minute,’ Nina replied. ‘I’m kind of a celebrity too – if Grant draws them away, hopefully none of them will pay attention to me. I don’t think I could cope with it. Not today.’

‘If anyone hassles you, they’ll get a zoom-lens enema.’ She almost smiled.

By the time they stepped outside, to Nina’s relief the photographers had followed their prey. Someone else was waiting for them, however. ‘Ay up,’ said Eddie, seeing a familiar face in the shade of a nearby tree.

‘Jared?’ said Nina as the couple approached the Mossad agent. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m in Florida on business,’ said Zane. ‘But when I heard about the funeral, I thought I should pay my respects. I didn’t know Macy, but . . . I know how close she was to you.’

Nina dabbed away a tear. ‘Thank you.’

Eddie had other concerns. ‘What kind of business?’ He eyed a newspaper the Israeli was holding, recognising the masthead as that of a British publication. ‘Why’ve you got a copy of the
Times
?’

‘I bought it in London before flying here,’ Zane replied. ‘For you, actually. I thought you might want to read it.’ He passed him the paper. ‘The story on the fourth page, top right.’

Eddie opened the newspaper. He recognised the man in the picture accompanying the article at once. ‘“Baron Winderhithe dies in fall at home”,’ he read – before looking back at Zane with sudden understanding.

‘Who’s Baron Winderhithe?’ Nina asked.

‘Some toff twat – who was also one of the bastards bankrolling Kroll. Died in a fall, did he?’

Zane’s face betrayed the tiniest hint of satisfaction. ‘A tragic accident. He tripped on the marble staircase at his house and broke his neck. It took him a couple of minutes to die.’

Nina was speed-reading the article. ‘It doesn’t say anything about marble stairs here . . .’ Now it was her turn to realise the truth. ‘Wait, did
you
—’

‘Better not to ask,’ said Eddie. ‘So what about the others who were at Leitz’s place? Did they have tragic accidents too?’

The Israeli nodded. ‘It’s strange how many rich men have slippery floors, or crash their cars, or hit their heads when they dive into their swimming pools. All that money, and they still can’t buy safety.’

‘Yeah, funny, that.’ A quizzical look. ‘That Yank, Thomson Holmes – didn’t you say he was from Florida?’

‘I did. I told you, I’m here on business.’ A faint smile, with considerable darkness behind it.

‘What kind of accident did he have?’ Nina asked.

‘I haven’t decided yet. But I’m sure it’ll be in tomorrow’s news.’

‘I . . . don’t want to know,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen too much death lately.’

‘We all have.’ For a moment Zane was lost in thought. ‘Anyway, I have to go. But it’s good to see that you’re okay, Nina – and so are you,
alter kocker
.’

‘Fuck off, kid,’ Eddie replied, but with humour. The younger man grinned, then turned away towards his car.

‘What does that mean?’ Nina asked.

‘Private joke.’ Eddie checked his watch. ‘We’ve got to go too, if we want to catch our flight back to New York.’

‘Yeah.’ She gave the chapel a last sad look. ‘It’s time we went home.’

Night had fallen by the time they returned to their building. Despite her tiredness, Nina still thought to collect the mail from their postbox, opening it as they ascended in the elevator. ‘Junk, junk, bill, junk . . .’

‘Shouldn’t there be a big cheque in there by now?’ Eddie asked. ‘I thought you were supposed to get an advance when you signed up to write your book.’

‘I guess publishing works on archaeological timescales . . .’ She trailed off as she glanced at another letter.

‘Big cheque?’ Eddie asked.

‘No, it’s from my doctor.’ She gazed at the page.

Worry filled his voice. ‘Bad news?’

‘Unexpected,’ was the distracted reply. Before Eddie could say anything more, the doors opened at their floor. ‘Can you take our stuff in? I need to use the bathroom.’

‘Human carthorse, reporting for duty,’ he grumbled as he picked up their bags and followed her to the apartment. She immediately went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Eddie took the luggage into the bedroom, then got a drink from the kitchen before slumping on the sofa, exhausted physically and emotionally. In his weary state, it took a while before he belatedly registered that Nina had not yet emerged. ‘Everything all right?’ he called.

No reply. Wondering if she had fallen asleep, he went to the bathroom. The door was not locked. He peered inside, finding Nina sitting on the toilet, with the lid closed. ‘You okay?’

Nina blinked. ‘Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah. I’m fine.’ An odd look came over her face. ‘I’m actually . . . I don’t know, to be honest.’

He crouched before her, concerned. ‘What’s wrong? Is something the matter?’

‘There’s something, yeah – well, two things. But I’m not sure if
wrong
’s the right word.’

‘You’re worrying me a bit, love – you’re not making a lot of sense.’ He sniffed the air. ‘You haven’t been smoking anything funny, have you?’

‘Yeah, right,’ she scoffed, the ludicrous accusation helping to bring her mind back down to earth.

‘So what are these two things?’

‘One of them is . . . well, it’s easier if I just show you.’ She lifted her top to reveal the skin beneath. The swollen lumps of the eitr infection were still there . . . but they had shrunk considerably, the smallest ones having already disappeared and scabbed over. ‘I first noticed the change a few days after we got back to the States, but I didn’t tell you because . . . well, I was afraid I might jinx it. So I went to the doctor for some tests.’ She held up the letter. ‘These are the results.’

‘And?’

‘And . . .’ She paused, still not quite able to believe it herself. ‘As far as they can tell, the infection is in remission. The tumours are shrinking – the cancerous cells are dying.’

He cocked his head, wary of false hope. ‘So what does that mean?’

‘It means that maybe . . . Kroll was telling the truth. The water from the Spring of Immortality really does cure diseases.’

He glanced back through the door. The silver jug currently resided in a cupboard, having been sealed until they could decide what to do with it; revealing its existence would only risk sparking a new search for the spring. ‘But you didn’t drink any of it.’

‘Not from Andreas’ jar, no – but I swallowed about half a gallon when Kroll tried to drown me. It didn’t even occur to me at the time, but now . . .’

‘The stuff actually
worked
?’

‘I can’t think of any other explanation. The doctor wants to do more tests, but based on what he’s found so far, I really am getting better. There’s another thing, too. I had some, ah . . . symptoms of something else. I just checked to see if I was right. And . . . I was.’

‘About what?’

She hesitated, then took a pen-sized plastic object from the shelf above the washbasin. Eddie did a double-take as he first identified it – then saw the two dark lines in the testing kit’s little window. ‘Is that—’

‘Yeah, it is. I’m pregnant.’

He stared at her, unsure if he had heard her correctly – then broke into his first smile of the day.