The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

“Just in time,” Hank said. “I think we’ve found the map.”

José nodded. “A hidden staircase.”

Hank’s attention was on Amal. “Something wrong?”

“No. Just that Professor Kemp left his phone in the kitchen.”

“Oh, good show,” Lazlo said. “I wanted to take pictures.”

José moved to the edge of the platform, grabbed the ladder, and started down to the bottom level. “I’ve got my phone. I’ll take some photos.”

Lazlo looked at him, then back up to Amal. She had yet to move. “I say, are you well?”

“Fine,” she said and climbed down the ladder.

Below them, José sloshed through the water.

Hank’s attention was on Amal. “Where’s the professor’s phone?”

“In the kitchen. I didn’t want to pry. I … I just thought he should know.”

Something in her voice caught Lazlo’s ear. He looked in her eyes and saw fear.

“Don’t move, professor,” Hank said, his gun drawn and aiming at Amal. “You might be willing to sacrifice your own safety, but not someone else’s. Hand me your gun, then down you go.”

“I don’t have a gun,” Lazlo said, holding his hands away from his body. “Whatever you’re thinking, we can get past this. It’s just money.”

“Yes. And your employers have plenty of it. Had Fargo simply allowed his wife to be kidnapped, as I’d first planned, I’d have my ransom and no one would be the wiser. I could’ve safely returned the embezzled funds, paid my debt to Tarek, and we’d all be happy.”

“You set up the kidnapping? Not Warren?”

“I owed Tarek a fortune.” He glanced at Amal. “I doubt anyone would’ve noticed the occasional missing artifact I used to help fund my own search for the scroll until the Fargos arrived.”

“Why?” Amal said, her voice filled with disbelief. “We were all in this together.”

“Together? You don’t get rich working for the university. Just ask LaBelle. Had the Fargos not discovered the missing money, I could’ve continued my search uninterrupted. I was almost home free, until Warren started looking into everything.”

Amal stumbled back against the ladder, her face paling. She started mumbling unintelligibly.

Hank ignored her, instead pointing his gun at Lazlo. “Get the rope.”

Lazlo picked it up, eyeing the tool bucket.

“Just the rope,” Hank said and jerked his jaw at Amal. “Tie her hands behind her back. Make sure it’s tight.”

“You’ll be okay,” Lazlo said softly, wrapping the thick cord around her wrists, then knotting it. “Just stay calm.”

If she heard him, she gave no indication. Her stare seemed vacant. She didn’t try to move, just continued muttering “sator, arepo, tenet, opera, rotas” over and over.

Hank ordered Lazlo to move away and grabbed the rope, drawing Amal to his side. “Down you go, professor. Don’t make any sudden moves.”

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

When one man’s curse falls on a person, another one breaks it.

– AFRICAN PROVERB –

A cloud of dust kicked up as Sam skidded to a stop outside the archeological site. Osmond came running out of the house as he and Remi threw open their doors. “Amal’s down there. She saw the text on Professor Lazlo’s phone.”