inca.gold-第49部分
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mbs。〃
〃Don't you have tight security to protect your country's valuable objects?〃 asked Rodgers。
〃Of course; but professional art thieves are very shrewd。 They often switch a genuine artifact with a skillfully done forgery。 Months; sometimes years; can go by before the crime is discovered。〃
〃Only three weeks ago;〃 said Shannon; 〃the National Heritage Museum in Guatemala reported the theft of pre…Columbian Mayan art objects with an estimated value of eight million dollars。 The thieves were dressed as guards and carried off the treasures during viewing hours as if they were simply moving them from one wing to another。 No one thought to question them。〃
〃My favorite;〃 said Ortiz without smiling; 〃was the theft of forty…five twelfth…century Shang dynasty drinking vessels from a museum in Bejjing。 The thieves carefully disassembled the glass cases and rearranged the remaining pieces to create the illusion that nothing was missing。 Three months passed before the curator noticed the pieces were missing and realized they'd been stolen。〃
Gunn held up his glasses and checked for smudges。 〃I had no idea art theft was such a widespread crime。〃
Ortiz nodded。 〃In Peru; major art and antiquity collections are stolen as often as banks are robbed。 What is even more tragic is that the thieves are getting bolder。 They have no hesitation in kidnapping a collector for ransom。 The ransom is; of course; his art objects。 In many cases; they simply murder a collector before looting his house。〃
〃You were lucky only a fraction of the art treasures were plundered from the City of the Dead before the looters were stopped;〃 said Pitt。
〃Lucky indeed。 But tragically the choice items have already made their way out of the country。〃
〃A wonder the city wasn't discovered by the huaqueros long before now;〃 said Shannon; deliberately avoiding any eye contact with Pitt。
〃Pueblo de los Muertos sits in this isolated valley ninety kilometers from the nearest village;〃 replied Ortiz。 〃Traveling in here is a major ordeal; especially by foot。 The native population had no reason to struggle seven or eight days through a jungle to search for something they thought existed only in legends from their dim past。 When Hiram Bingham discovered Machu Picchu on a mountaintop the local inhabitants had never ventured there。 And though it would not deter a hardened huaquero; descendants of the Chachapoya still believe that all ruins across the mountains in the great forests to the east are protected by a demon god like the one we found this afternoon。 They're deathly afraid to go near them。〃
Shannon nodded。 〃Many still swear that anyone who finds and enters the City of the Dead will be turned to stone。〃
〃Ah yes;〃 Giordino murmured; 〃the old ‘cursed be you who disturb my bones' routine。〃
〃Since none of us feels any stiffening of the joints;〃 said Ortiz jovially; 〃I must assume the evil spirits that frequent the ruins have lost their spell。〃
〃Too bad it didn't work against Amaru and his looters;〃 said Pitt。
Rodgers moved behind Shannon and placed a possessive hand on the nape of her neck。 〃I understand you're all bidding us good…bye in the morning。〃
Shannon looked surprised and made no attempt to remove Rodgers's hand。 〃Is that true?〃 she said; looking at Pitt。 〃You're leaving?〃
Gunn answered before Pitt。 〃Yes; we're flying back to our ship before heading north into Ecuador。〃
〃You're not going to search in Equador for the galleon we discussed on the Deep Fathom?〃 Shannon asked。
〃Can you think of a better place?〃
〃Why Ecuador?〃 she persisted。
〃Al enjoys the climate;〃 Pitt said; clapping Giordino on the back。
Giordino nodded。 〃I hear the girls are pretty and wild with lust。〃
Shannon stared at Pitt with a look of interest。 〃And you?〃
〃Me?〃 Pitt murmured innocently。 〃I'm going for the fishing。〃
〃You sure can pick 'em;〃 said FBI Chief of Interstate Stolen Art Francis Ragsdale; as he eased into the vinyl seat of a booth in a nineteen…fifties…style chrome diner。 He studied the selections on the coin…operated music unit that was wired to a Wurlitzer jukebox。 〃Stan Kenton; Charlie Barnett; Stan Getz。 Who ever heard of these guys?〃
〃Only people who appreciate good music;〃 Gaskill replied sourly to the younger man。 He settled his bulk; which filled two…thirds of the seat on his side of the booth。
Ragsdale shrugged。 〃Before my time。〃 To him; at thirty…four; the great musicians of an earlier era were only vague names mentioned occasionally by his parents。 〃e here often?〃
Gaskill nodded。 〃The food really sticks to your ribs。〃
〃Hardly an epicurean remendation。〃 Clean…shaven; with black wavy hair and a reasonably well…exercised body; Ragsdale had the handsome face; pleasant gray eyes; and bland expression of a soap opera actor automatically reacting to his counterpart's dialogue。 A good investigator; he took his job seriously; maintaining the image of the bureau by dressing in a dark business suit that gave him the appearance of a successful Wall Street broker。 With a professional eye for detail; he examined the linoleum floor; the round stools at the counter; the period napkin holders and art deco salt and pepper shakers that were parked beside a bottle of Heinz ketchup and a jar of French's mustard。 His expression reflected urbane distaste。 He would unquestionably have preferred a more trendy restaurant in midtown Chicago。
〃Quaint place。 Hermetically sealed within the Twilight Zone。〃
〃Atmosphere is half the enjoyment;〃 said Gaskill resignedly。
〃Why is it when I pay; we eat in a class establishment; but when it's your turn we wind up in a geriatric beanery?〃
〃It's knowing I always get a good table。〃
〃What about the food?〃
Gaskill smiled。 〃Best place I know to eat good chicken。〃
Ragsdale gave him a look just shy of nausea and ignored the menu; mimeographed entrees between sheets of plastic。 〃I'll throw caution to the winds and risk botulism with a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee。〃
〃Congratulations on solving the Fairchild Museum theft in Scarsdale。 I hear you recovered twenty missing Sung dynasty jade carvings。〃
〃Twenty…two。 I've got to admit I passed over the least obvious suspect until I drew blanks on all the probables。 The seventy…two…year…old director of security。 Who would have figured him? He worked at the museum for close to thirty…two years。 A record as clean as a surgeon's scrubbed hands。 The curator refused to believe it until the old guy broke down and confessed。 He had removed the carved figurines one at a time over a period of four years; returning after closing hours; shutting down the alarm system; picking the locks on the cases and lowering the carvings into the bushes beside the building from a bathroom window。 He replaced the stolen carvings in the cases with less valuable pieces stored in a basement vault。 The catalogue labels were also altered。 He even managed to reset the raised stands in their exact positions without leaving telltale dust…free spots on the floor of the cases。 Museum officials were more than impressed with his display technique。〃
The waitress; the archetype of all those who wait on counters and tables in small…town cafes or truck stop restaurants; pencil in funny little cap; jaws furiously grinding gum; and surgical stockings hiding varicose veins; came over; pencil stub poised above a small green pad。
〃Dare I ask what your soup of the day is?〃 inquired Ragsdale loftily。
〃Curried lentil with ham and apple。〃
Ragsdale did a double take。 〃Did I hear you correctly?〃
〃Want me to repeat it?〃
〃No; no; the curried lentil soup will be fine。〃
The waitress wagged her pencil at Gaskill。 〃I know what you want。〃 She yelled their orders to an unseen chef in the kitchen in a voice mixed with ground glass and river gravel。
〃After thirty…two years;〃 asked Gaskill; continuing the conversation; 〃what triggered the museum's security chief to go on a burglary binge?〃
〃A passion for exotic art;〃 answered Ragsdale。 〃The old guy loved to touch and fondle the figurines when no one was around; but then a new curator made him take a cut in pay as an austerity measur