The Pharaoh Key

5

TWO DAYS LATER, Gideon and Garza followed the same two security guards—one in front, one behind—up a dedicated elevator to the top floor of the EES building on Little West 12th Street. This penthouse was Eli Glinn’s private quarters, a sleek aerie perched atop the old meatpacking building. Gideon had been inside only once before.

They came to a blank metal door, and one of the guards punched in a code, then stood in front of a device in the wall, which evidently scanned the irises of his eyes. The door whispered open, revealing a small, dim entryway; another door hushed open, and they proceeded down a corridor that eventually opened into a small, exquisite yet austere library with a marble fireplace.

In a chair near the fire sat Eli Glinn. He had been reading. Laying aside the book, he rose from the chair.

Gideon was shocked at his appearance. He was transformed—a far younger man, it seemed, glowing with health. It was almost as if he were aging backward. All signs of his previous infirmity were gone. While always self-assured, he now seemed uncharacteristically cheerful—or, more accurately, self-satisfied. His gray eyes, smooth domed forehead and unlined face, impeccable gray suit, straight bearing, and subtly condescending expression were more intense than ever. And why not, thought Gideon with a flush of resentment: the man had succeeded. He was vindicated. He had atoned for the most catastrophic mistake of his life—the sinking of the Rolvaag—and done so with great skill and sangfroid. His fine spirits and good health made Gideon feel his own anger grow at the way the man had abandoned those who’d helped him achieve this goal.

Glancing over at Garza, Gideon could see the man was having a much harder time dealing with Glinn’s persona than he was. Garza’s face was darkening, his black eyes flashing with resentment. And he saw, too, that Glinn was observing Garza’s reaction with supercilious amusement.

“Please,” said Glinn, “sit down.”

They sat down and Glinn resumed his seat. “May I offer you anything? Coffee? Water? A glass of port?”

Garza shook his head and said “No” with ill-concealed disrespect.

Glinn threw one leg across the other and gazed at them with speculative eyes. “Before we begin, let me lay my cards on the table. I’m well aware you two are planning some sort of confidence game. It’s astonishing, and rather amusing, that after all our time together you might think I could be taken in.”

“I think,” Gideon said, “you might be wise to see what cards we’re holding before you lay your own on the table.”

Glinn gave this a brief, cynical smile.

Gideon went on. “You’ve agreed to see us because—admit it—you’re curious.”

“True.”

“And despite your suspicious nature, a small part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, we do in fact—as we implied in our communication—have a message for you from the late Captain Britton.”

“Highly unlikely.”

Gideon smiled. “Unlikely, yes. Highly unlikely, perhaps—in your opinion. But not impossible.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Of course you will. Manuel?”

Garza leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his shoulders stretching the fabric of his suit. “You son of a bitch,” he said, voice low. “I gave you sixteen years. I almost died on the Rolvaag and again down there when we returned to the Ice Limit, just a couple of months ago. I was the one who saved your ass on Phorkys island. You’d be dead many times over if it weren’t for me. And Gideon. And now that you finally got what you wanted, you threw us away like so much garbage.”

Glinn inclined his head. “Your anger is irrational. I paid you extremely well. And it’s not just you: I’m disbanding the company, as you know, so everyone has lost their jobs, except for a few guards.”

“Without even a note of thanks.”

“Manuel. Do you mean to imply that after all these years, you know me so poorly? I am not a man of the empty gesture. You already know how grateful I am to you—and Gideon. You want a piece of paper to that effect? A Hallmark card, perhaps? I would consider that an insult if I were you. Come now—this is not how individuals like us conduct our affairs. Let’s stop bandying useless recriminations and get to the real reason you are here. As I understand from your message, you each want a million dollars. And in return you will give me a letter from Captain Britton, addressed to me, which she entrusted to your care shortly before her death.”

Garza nodded. “Think of it as severance pay.”

“How nice, but it meets the definition of extortion more exactly.”

“Call it what you will.”

Glinn leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Why didn’t you give me this letter years ago, after the Rolvaag sank?”

“When you see the note, you’ll understand. It’s the nature of what she wrote to you.” Garza paused. “What she had to tell you…is awful.”

Glinn’s smoothly groomed eyebrows rose. “Of course there is no note. What a shabby and ill-conceived plan.”

“How can you know it’s a con,” Gideon said, “without actually seeing the letter?”

“Come now, Gideon. I’ve built my entire career on quantitative behavioral analysis. This is so clearly a trick that it’s painful.”

“I see you’re just too smart for us,” said Gideon abruptly. He turned to Garza. “Let’s go.”

“Security will let you out.” Glinn pressed a button, and the two security guards materialized in the library doorway.

Gideon rose, along with Garza.

“After you, sirs,” one guard said, gesturing with his hand.

At the door Gideon paused, turned to Glinn, and said:

“Come on,” said the guard as the door whispered open.

“Wait,” said Glinn, holding up a long white hand.

Gideon turned.

“Why did you just say that?”

“Just quoting the first two lines in the note. They’re from a poem by W. H. Auden, in case you didn’t know.”

“I know where they’re from,” Glinn said. A silence hung in the room, and finally Glinn sighed. “I see your game is more sophisticated than I anticipated. Please come back and sit down.”

They returned to their chairs, and Eli looked from one to the other. “Now, Manuel. Please tell me the exact circumstances of how you came into possession of this alleged note.”