The Mayan Secrets - Cussler Clive (читать бесплатно полные книги TXT) 📗
She admired the easy, casual way San Martin traveled about with bodyguards. He was never hampered or hemmed in by their presence. When he arrived at a building, one of them would step in first, look around, and open the door for him. When San Martin entered a room, one man stayed at the door to keep it securely under his control and the other stationed himself at a second strategic spot — beside a window or by a staircase — away from the civilians. San Martin always behaved as though the two ice-eyed killers were invisible.
He took Sarah’s hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “It’s wonderful to see a beautiful and noble lady at any time, but to be invited to her home for lunch is a great privilege. And the light here is made for you.”
Sarah Allersby would never say it, but it had been made for her. She’d had the long table removed today and replaced with a round one because she didn’t want to set off any thoughts of precedence. A man like San Martin would expect to sit at the head of any table, but letting him do it here would be dangerous. He instinctively took charge of things, and she could not let him begin to think of her as an underling in his empire or of her house as territory.
“Please sit here,” she said, and pulled a chair out. She moved to the chair beside that one, knowing that it would make the place she’d chosen for him desirable.
Once they were comfortably seated side by side, she nodded, and the waiter poured some wine for both of them. She tasted it, then said, “Leave us. I’ll ring.” The waiter moved off toward the kitchen. She said, “I’ve invited a trusted associate, who’s waiting in the library. His name is Mr. Russell. May I bring him in?”
“All right.” San Martin turned toward his two bodyguards to be sure they’d heard. They said nothing but headed into the house and across the foyer. After about a minute, they returned with Russell and resumed their posts.
Sarah said, “This is Mr. Russell, and this is Mr. San Martin. Diego, Mr. Russell has helped me and members of my family a number of times and his discretion is absolute. I wouldn’t invite him today if I didn’t trust him with my life.”
Diego San Martin took the wine bottle out of the ice bucket and looked hard at Russell. Sarah looked hard at Russell too, imagining what San Martin was thinking. Was she imagining just a faint tinge of blue remained on his face?
Russell picked up his wineglass and held it out so San Martin could fill it. Both men’s faces were empty and serious, each staring into the other’s eyes. Neither man’s hand shook. “Thank you,” said Russell.
“Well, gentlemen,” said Sarah. “While we’re having a chilled drink together, let me bring up my problem, and then I’ll ring to have the food served.”
“Excellent idea,” said San Martin. “Right to the point.”
“A few weeks ago, an American couple named Sam and Remi Fargo began to spy on me. They went into the country around the Estancia Guerrero and then onto the Estancia itself. They were the ones your security people saw near the sacred cenote in the ruins of the ceremonial center. I believe they wounded or killed about a dozen of your employees.”
“Yes,” San Martin said. “Their visit was an expensive one for me.”
“They also visited the Estancia itself and saw your marijuana crop and the coca trees. They came to this house to complain about them to me.”
“Interesting.”
“They have also gone to some trouble to get me arrested on the charge of stealing a Mayan codex from them and for attempting to have them killed by Mr. Russell. I had the charges dropped, but only after days of humiliation and a public court appearance.”
San Martin sipped his wine. “That must have been unpleasant.”
“Yes. They’re a potential threat to me, so I’m afraid to let them go on this way. But they’re even more of a threat to you. They’ve already found your operation on the Estancia. I know you feel people should solve their own problems instead of bringing them to you, but I think these people are a problem we share.”
He laughed. “You’ve learned to know me so well,” he said. “You’re a perceptive woman. You may actually be the perfect woman.”
She laughed too. “Of course I am. Being a woman is all I do.” She refilled the glasses.
“All right. Tell me how I can be a good friend to you. And then we’ll have lunch. I promise to give you my answer when we’ve finished.”
“Mr. Russell? Can you help me explain?”
Russell was filled with appreciation of her cunning. She knew that San Martin would be most comfortable with her as the ultra-feminine woman who appeared not to know the violent details. He also knew that San Martin had no interest in knowing him, so he had to be brief. “Miss Allersby has a list of Mayan sites that she planned to visit. At one of these sites we had a group of five men clear and guard a helicopter landing area so Miss Allersby could bring journalists with her to see the ruins. The men were heavily armed. Yet they had disappeared by the time Miss Allersby arrived. And we now know that the Fargos visted the site before she did.”
“Thank you,” said San Martin. He turned to Sarah. “And now let’s do justice to your beautiful table and have the lunch you’ve planned.”
Sarah rang the little silver bell by her, and the lunch was served. There was poached salmon with a caper sauce and asparagus. The wine that was poured with it was a 1998 Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame. There was sorbet to cleanse the palate before the salad was served, in the French manner, after the entree, and then small, delicate pastries with strong espresso.
As Senor San Martin finished his coffee, he sat back in his chair. Sarah Allersby looked at the servants, gave a little flip of her hand, and they dissolved into the doorways along the side of the house that led to the kitchen and pantry. Then she poured another cup of espresso for San Martin.
San Martin looked at Russell with eyes so cold and devoid of feeling that they looked dead. “I’ll try to find out what happened to your five men. The forest is a dangerous place, and not everybody with a gun works for me. If the Fargos are responsible, the five might be in jail somewhere.” He handed Russell his calling card. “Here, Mr. Russell. Come and see me tomorrow afternoon. I’ll supply you with a small army of professionals who won’t be troubled by a couple of American tourists.”
Chapter 26
Sam and Remi loaded their backpacks into a Jeep. This time, it was a rental car and a few years newer. They drove the narrow, winding road toward Santa Maria de los Montanas, the town where they had jumped off the marijuana truck and been helped by the priest and the doctor.
As they drove, Remi said, “Do you think we’re having an effect on her?”
“Sarah Allersby?” Sam said. “I’m sure we are. We’ve visited the six biggest, and probably most important, undiscovered sites mentioned in the codex and registered them. That burns them for her. She can’t claim to discover them if we did.” Sam drove on for a minute. “The police in Belize say the five men who attacked Tim’s helicopter haven’t talked yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she hired them to control access to that Mayan site.”
Remi said, “I know she’s angry. In fact, if nothing else had happened, seeing herself ridiculed in the European magazines would have been plenty. People envy the rich bad-girl celebrities who are always in the tabloids, but envy isn’t the same as admiration. There’s a complicated mixture of feelings involved. Whenever one of these women gets embarrassed or hurt, a lot of the people who were busy fawning on them are delighted to see it happen.”
“She’s pretty sophisticated. The fickleness of crowds can’t be a surprise to someone like her.”
“I know,” said Remi. “I’ve just been thinking about her and feel this isn’t going right. We’re locked in a competition with her, and I’d like to be able to foresee a happy ending, but I don’t.”
