The Navigator - Cussler Clive - Страница 60

Woolsey could not have known that her first call as a Watcher had set in motion the chain of events that would lead to her demise. Her job was to report any serious queries about Phoenician voyages to America. She had dutifully relayed news of the Jefferson file. By the time she received instructions to turn the file over to a courier, a State Department representative had come by to collect the Jefferson material. She angrily put the blame on her assistant, but was told not to mention the incident to Angela. When she called again to report the Trouts’ visit to Angela, she sealed her death warrant.

Woolsey was told to make sure Angela stayed late. Adriano had showed up at the museum after hours, dispatched the librarian, and unsuccessfully tried to ambush her assistant.

He continued along the corridor, methodically trying each door. The offices were all locked. He came to a four-way intersection and sniffed the air like a keening hound.

Click.

The sound of a latch closing was barely audible. Adriano’s senses were at their height during a hunt. He turned to his right, following the passageway to a door, which he opened, and stepped into a dark room.

Adriano had never been in the library but knew its layout well. After Angela had discovered the file, he had sent people to scout out the building. He considered himself a professional and wanted to acquaint himself with a potential killing field.

He knew that the darkened room housed thousands of books stacked on tall bookshelves that were laid out in parallel rows.

Angela had ducked between two rows when she heard the door open and close. She had been headed toward an exit at the rear of the room. She was sure the pounding of her heart would give her away.

Adriano hit the wall switch and the room was flooded with light.

Angela dropped to her hands and knees and crawled to the end of the row, then along a narrow aisle between the ends of the shelves and the wall.

Adriano’s hunter’s ears picked up the shuffle of knees and palms brushing the floor.

He strolled along the aisle. He took his time, pausing to peer between the rows of bookshelves before going on. He could have found Angela in a second, but he wanted to prolong the hunt and increase the terror of his prey as long as he could.

After checking out several rows, he saw an object on the floor and walked between shelves for a closer look. It was a shoe. Another lay a few feet away. Angela had slipped into her stocking feet to muffle the sound her movement.

Adriano chuckled softly and flexed his fingers.

“Come to me, Angela,” he crooned like a mother calling for its child.

At the unexpected sound of her name, Angela scrambled to her feet and ran for the exit door. Quick steps padded behind her. A hand reached out and grabbed the back of her blouse. She screamed and pulled free. Adriano had purposely let her go. He liked to play with his victims.

Angela ducked between stacks and plastered her back against a bookshelf.

Adriano turned down the next row of shelves and his baby face peered over the tops of the books.

“Hello,” he said.

Angela turned and saw the round blue eyes. She tried to scream, but the sound was caught in her throat.

“Angela.”

A woman’s voice had called her name.

Adriano’s first instinct was to attack the intruder. He advanced toward the sound of the voice. He would batter the newcomer to the floor, quickly dispose of her, and then return to Angela.

He rounded a corner and saw two people near the door. A red-haired woman and a man who was even taller than Adriano. They seemed startled by his appearance but rallied quickly.

“Where’s Angela?” the woman said.

He said nothing. But there was an audible whimper from the stacks. Angela.

They showed by their aggressive posture that they had no intention of yielding. The man started toward him. The woman was circling around behind.

Adriano wasn’t used to resistance. The situation was becoming complex. He feinted toward the man, then turned and ran for the exit door. He hit a light switch and fled the room.

“Angela, are you okay?” Gamay said. “It’s the Trouts.”

“Be careful,” Angela warned. “He’s after me.”

The room lights came on again.

Angela rushed out and threw her arms around Gamay. Her body was wracked by sobs.

Paul made a quick survey of the room. Then he opened the exit door and stepped out into the hallway. All was quiet. He returned to the stacks room. “He’s gone. Who was that creep?”

“I don’t know,” Angela said. “He killed Helen. Then he came after me. He knew my name.”

“The front door was unlocked,” Paul said. “We got lost trying to find your office and heard your scream. You say he killed your boss?”

Although she hated to go back to the murder scene, she led them along the corridor to Woolsey’s office. Trout pushed the door open with his toe and stepped inside. He went to the desk and put his ear close to Woolsey’s gaping mouth but neither heard nor felt her breath. He hadn’t expected her to be alive after seeing the angle of her head and the marks on her throat.

He stepped back into the hallway. Gamay had her arm around the young woman’s shoulders. She saw the grave expression on her husband’s face and called 911 on her cell phone. Then they went outside and stood near the front stairs to wait for the police.

The patrol car showed up within five minutes. Two Philadelphia police officers got out of the car and, after talking to the Trouts and Angela, they called for backup. They drew their guns. One went inside while the other walked around the building.

Adriano slipped out from behind the shelter of a tree growing in a small park across from the library entrance. The red-and-blue lights from the police car reflected off his soft features. He stared with curiosity at the tall man and the red-haired woman who had interrupted his hunt.

Another cruiser screeched to a halt and two more policemen got out.

Adriano melted back into the shadows and left the library grounds without being seen. He was a patient man. He knew where Angela lived. And when she came home that night, he would be waiting.

Chapter 35

AUSTIN WAS IN THE NETHERLAND between sleep and consciousness when he sensed a change in the Citation’s attitude and speed. He opened his eyes and peered out the window. He recognized the tapestry of lights spread out below as Washington and the densely populated Virginia suburbs.

Carina was asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. He tapped her arm. “We’re home.”

She woke up and yawned. “The last thing I remember, we were taking off from Paris.”

“You were telling me about your plans for the exhibition.”

“Sorry.” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “I’ll go back to my hotel and get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow morning I’ll take the train to New York. I have to talk to the people at the Metropolitan Museum of Art about the opening.”

“You’re going ahead with the tour even without the Navigator?”

“I don’t have much choice. Looking on the bright side, the news about the statue’s theft may bring in more people.”

Austin groped for words that wouldn’t make him sound paternal. “In view of past events, do you think it’s a good idea for you to be traveling on your own?”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Kurt, but only a few people will know my plans.” She yawned again. “Do you think I’m still in danger?”

Austin compressed his lips in a tight smile. He didn’t want to scare Carina, but she needed to be aware that she had a bull’s-eye painted on her back.

“Our friend Buck said that you were a kidnapping target. The people he worked for have a long reach. We saw that in Turkey.”

Carina tilted her stubborn chin up at an imperious angle. “I’m not going to let anyone make me spend the rest of my days hiding in a closet.”