Crescent Dawn (Dirk Pitt 21)

“A resemblance to whom?” Pitt asked, stepping over to join them.

“He has wavy black hair, a lean face, and a tan complexion,” Loren said. “The same features as you.”

Pitt looked at the painting, then shook his head. “No, his eyes aren’t quite as green. And judging by the background, he couldn’t have stood more than five foot three and weighed much over a hundred pounds. On top of that, there’s another big difference between us,” he added with a slight grin.

“What’s that?” Loren asked.

“He walked on water. I swim in it.”

100

THE AFTERNOON HEAT HAD PASSED ITS ZENITH, AND THE sun was casting long shad

ows on the Jerusalem District Court Building when the final jury verdict was read. The television and print reporters were the first to exit the building, anxious to file their stories on the trial. The courthouse hounds and curiosity seekers who had filled the courtroom gallery filed out next, gossiping among themselves about the outcome. Last came the witnesses and attorneys, thankful that the long trial had finally reached its end. Noticeably absent, however, was the defendant. Oscar Gutzman would not stroll freely out the front door of the courthouse. Cuffed and under heavy guard, he was quietly escorted out the back door and into a waiting police van, which whisked him away to Shikma Prison to begin serving his sentence.

Dirk Jr. and Sam Levine lingered in the foyer, thanking the prosecuting attorneys for their good work, before stepping out into the fading sunlight. Both men wore the look of bitter justice on their faces, knowing that the verdict would never fully make up for the deaths of Sophie and her fellow antiquities agent.

“Fifteen years for aiding and abetting the death of agent Holder at Caesarea,” Sam said. “We couldn’t have done much better.”

“It should ensure that he dies in prison,” Dirk replied impassively.

“In his poor health, I’ll be surprised if he survives the first year.”

“Then you better get moving if you’re going to try him on antiquities charges,” Dirk said.

“Actually, we’ve already cut a plea deal with his attorneys. Although we had a solid case against him for trafficking in stolen antiquities, adding a few years to his sentence would have been an academic exercise.”

“So what did you get out of him?”

“All charges were dropped in exchange for him cooperating in the ongoing investigation into the sources of the stolen artifacts in his collection. In addition,” Sam said with a smile, “Gutzman has agreed to bequeath his entire collection to the State of Israel upon his death.”

“That’s a pretty good coup.”

“We think so,” Sam replied as they reached the bottom of the courthouse steps. “It will take a little of the sting out of our losses.”

“Nice to know that something good will come out of all this,” Dirk replied. He reached over and shook Levine’s hand. “Keep up the good fight, Sam. Sophie would have wanted you to carry on.”

“I will. Take care, Dirk.”

As Sam headed toward the parking lot, Dirk heard someone call out his name. He turned to see Ridley Bannister, easing down the steps with the aid of a polished cane.

“Yes, Bannister,” Dirk replied.

“If you’ve got a moment,” the archaeologist said, hobbling up to Dirk. “I just wanted to tell you that, prior to the trial, I wasn’t aware that you were involved with Miss Elkin. She was a professional colleague of sorts, although we didn’t always see eye to eye. Nevertheless, I just wanted to say that I always considered her a remarkable woman.”

“I share your sentiment,” Dirk said quietly. “Thank you, by the way, for participating in the trial. Your testimony was instrumental in putting Gutzman away.”

“I knew that he bought stolen artifacts, but I never imagined he’d go so far as to hire trained terrorists to augment his collection. It’s not difficult to get caught up in the allure of artifacts, and I carry my own sins in that regard. But you have to make right at the end of the day. You and your family showed me the way, in addition to saving my life. For that, I shall always be grateful.”

“How much longer will you need that?” Dirk asked, pointing to the cane.

“Just another few weeks. The doctors in Cyprus did a splendid job of patching me up.”

“It was good of you to agree to loan the Manifest to their new museum.”

“It belongs with the other artifacts that NUMA bestowed,” Bannister replied. “Perhaps it will make a few amends to your sister. Summer is quite a saucy young lady, by the way. Please tell her that I’d be honored to dine with her some time.”

“I’ll pass the word. What’s next for you?”