inca.gold-第82节
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〃Try twisting the spout；〃 suggested Swain。
Gaskill took the gold…plated spout in one of his massive hands and gave it a slight turn。 To his surprise it moved and the tub began to slowly sink beneath the bathroom floor。 A reverse turn of the spout and the tub returned to its former position。 He knew； he knew； this simple little water spout and this stupid bathtub were the keys that could topple the entire Zolar organization and shut them down for good。 He gave a e…hither motion to the others and said gleefully； 〃Going down？〃
The unusual elevator descended for nearly thirty seconds before ing to a stop in another bathroom。 Poole judged the drop to be about 20 meters （65 feet）。 They stepped from the bathroom into an office that was almost an exact copy of the one above。 The lights were on but no one was present。 With Ragsdale in the lead； the little group of agents cracked open the door of the office and peered out onto the floor of an immense storehouse of stolen art and antiquities。 They were all stunned by the size of the chamber and the enormous inventory of the objects。 Gaskill made a wild guess of at least ten thousand pieces as Ragsdale slipped into the storeroom and made a fast recon。 He was back in five minutes。
〃Four men working with a forklift；〃 he reported； 〃lowering a bronze sculpture of a Roman legionnaire into a wooden crate about halfway down the fourth aisle。 Across on the other side； in a closed…off area； I counted six men and women working in what looked to be the artifact forgery section。 A tunnel leads through the south wall； I'd guess to a nearby building that acts as a front for the shipping and receiving of the stolen property。〃
〃It must also be used for the covert employees to enter and exit；〃 suggested Pottle。
〃My God；〃 murmured Gaskill。 〃We've hit the jackpot。 I can recognize four works of stolen art from here。〃
〃We'd better stay put；〃 said Ragsdale softly； 〃until we can shuttle reinforcements from above。〃
〃I volunteer to operate the ferry service；〃 said Swain with a foxy grin。 〃What woman can pass up the opportunity to sit in a fancy bathtub that moves from floor to poor？〃
As soon as she left； Poole stood guard at the door to the storage area while Gaskill and Ragsdale searched Zolar's underground office。 The desk produced little of value so they turned their attention to searching for a storeroom。 They quickly found what they were looking for behind a tall sideboard bookcase that swiveled out from the wall on small castors。 Pushed aside； it revealed a long； narrow chamber lined with antique wooden cabinets； standing floor to ceiling。 Each cabinet held file folders in alphabetical order containing acquisition and sales records of the Zolar family operations as far back as 1929。
〃It's here；〃 muttered Gaskill in wonder。 〃It's all here。〃 He began pulling files from a cabinet。
〃Incredible；〃 Ragsdale agreed； studying files from another cabinet that stood in the middle of the storeroom。 〃For sixty…nine years they kept a record of every piece of art they stole； smuggled； and forged； including financial and personal data on the buyers。〃
〃Oh； Jesus；〃 Gaskill groaned； 〃take a look at this one。〃
Ragsdale took the offered file and scanned the first two pages。 When he looked up his face was marked with disbelief。 〃If this is true； Michelangelo's statue of King Solomon in the Eisenstein Museum of Renaissance Art in Boston is a fake。〃
〃And a damned good one； judging by the number of experts who authenticated it。〃
〃But the former curator knew。〃
〃Of course；〃 said Gaskill。 〃The Zolars made him an offer he couldn't refuse。 According to this report； ten extremely rare Etruscan sculptures excavated illegally in northern Italy； and smuggled into the United States； were exchanged along with the forged King Solomon for the genuine article。 Since the fake was too good to be caught； the curator became a big hero with the trustees and patrons by claiming he had enhanced the museum's collection by persuading an anonymous moneybags to donate the objects。〃
〃I wonder how many other cases of museum fraud we'll find；〃 mused Ragsdale。
〃I suspect this may only be the tip of the iceberg。 These files represent thousands upon thousands of illegal deals to buyers who turned a blind eye in the direction the objects came from。〃
Ragsdale smiled。 〃I'd like to be a mouse hiding in the wall when the U。 S。 Attorney's Office finds out we've laid about ten years' worth of legal work on them。〃
〃You don't know federal prosecutors；〃 said Gaskill。 〃When they get a load of all the wealthy businessmen； politicians； sports and entertainment celebrities who willfully purchased hot art； they'll think they've died and gone to heaven。〃
〃Maybe we'd better rethink all the exposure；〃 cautioned Ragsdale。
〃What've you got cooking？〃
〃We know that Joseph Zolar and his brothers； Charles Oxley and Cyrus Sarason； are in Mexico where we can't arrest and take them into custody without a lot of legal E hassle。 Right？〃
〃I follow。〃
〃So we throw a blanket on this part of the raid；〃 explained Ragsdale。 〃From all indications； the employees on the legitimate side of the operation have no idea what's going on in the basement。 Let them go back to work tomorrow as if the raid turned up nothing。 Business as usual。 Otherwise； if they get wind that we've shut down their operation and federal prosecutors are building an airtight case； they'll go undercover in some country where we can't grab them。〃
Gaskill rubbed his chin thoughtfully。 〃Won't be easy keeping them in the dark。 Like all businessmen on the road； they probably keep in daily munication with their operations。〃
〃We'll use every underhanded trick in the book and fake it。〃 Ragsdale laughed。 〃Set up operators to claim construction work severed the fiber optic lines。 Send out phony memos over ‘their fax lines。 Keep the workers we've taken into custody on ice。 With luck we can blindside the Zolars for forty…eight hours while we figure a scam to entice them over the border。〃
Gaskill looked at Ragsdale。 〃You like to play long shots； don't you； my man？〃
〃I'll bet my wife and kids on a three…legged horse if there is the tiniest chance of putting these scum away for good。〃
〃I like your odds。〃 Gaskill grinned。 〃Let's shoot the works。〃
Many of Billy Yuma's village clan of one hundred seventy…six people survived by raising squash； corn； and beans。 Others cut juniper and manzanita to sell for fence posts and firewood。 A new source of ine was the revival of interest in their ancient art of making pottery。 Several of the Montolo women still created elegant pottery that had recently e into demand by collectors； hungry for Indian art。
After hiring out as a cowboy to a large ranchero for fifteen years； Yuma finally saved enough money to start a small spread of his own。 He and his wife； Polly； managed a good living pared to most of the native people of northern Baja； she firing her pots； and he raising livestock。
After his midday meal； as he did every day； Yuma saddled his horse； a buckskin mare； and rode out to inspect his herd for sickness or injury。 The harsh and inhospitable landscape with its bounty of jagged rocks； cactus； and steep…sided arroyos could easily maim an unwary steer。
He was searching for a stray calf when he saw the stranger approaching on the narrow trail leading to his village。
The man who walked through the desert seemed out of place。 Unlike hikers or hunters； this man wore only the clothes on his back no canteen； no backpack。 He didn't even wear a hat to shade his head from the afternoon sun。 There was a tired； worn…to…the…bones look about him； and yet he walked in purposeful； rapid strides as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere。 Curious； Billy temporarily suspended his hunt for the calf and rode through a creek bed toward the trail。
Pitt had hiked 14 kilometers （almost 9 miles） across the desert after ing out of an exhausted sleep。 He might still be dead to the world if a strange sensation hadn't awakened him。 He blinked open his eyes to see a small rock lizard crouching on his arm staring back。 He shook off the little intruder and checked his Doxa dive watch for the time。 He was shocked to see that he had slept away half the morning。
The sun was already pouring down on the desert when he awoke； but the temperature was a bearable 30 degrees Celsius （86 degrees Fahrenheit）。 The sweat dried quickly on his body； and he felt the first longing for water。 He licked his lips and tasted salt from his swim through the sea。 Despite the warmth； a cold self…anger crept through him； knowing he had slept away four precious hours。 An eternity； he feared； to his friends enduring whatever misery Sarason and his sadists felt like inflicting on them this day。 The core of his existence was to rescue them。
After a quick dive in the water to refresh himself； he cut west across the desert toward Mexico Highway 5； twenty； maybe thirty kilometers away。 Once he reached the pavement； he could flag a ride into Mexicali； and then make his way across the border into Calexico。 That was the plan； unless the local Baja telephone pany had thoughtfully and conveniently inst
