I dressed for hiking, then went outside and drove away in the Yugo. I pulled into a store on the Sunset Strip that sold globes and maps and bought a topographical map of the area I wanted, then drove into Pacific Palisades and the start of the trail that Mickey showed us. It seemed like a long time ago.
I didn’t have a bike but made good time. I reached the bluff where Hondo had scrambled around like a cliff monkey, then I went down the trail to where we found the undocumented Mexican women.
Past the oaks, there were no more paths, only game trails. I check
ed the topo map and started down the winding slope to the bottom of the canyon, then walked the canyon floor as it snaked northeast. The brush was thick in places, and I had to detour a dozen times. There was little breeze and the afternoon sun was heating the canyon bottom like a furnace. I walked another hour before rounding a long curve and the vista opened to a wider valley.
The area had opened up but the terrain was still rough, with large boulders and brush. I would have to weave my way through it. I hopped on a boulder and referred to the map, then saw the cave a half mile ahead. It was maybe ten feet above the canyon floor on the east side, the mouth showing clear as it caught the afternoon sun. A small thread of smoke came from a fire pit. Here was the answer to another piece of the puzzle left by Landman on his scrap of paper. It was indicated in small print letters, right at the edge of my topographical map. I had come to Chumash Cave.
I got to the entrance in ten minutes. The roof was black from ancient fires and the floor was dust and rocks. The cave went back about fifteen feet and from outside it had the shape of a half-opened eye, narrowing at both sides. The roof was twelve feet high at the center and followed the taper down to the corners. A ring of stones showed a fire pit where white ash still smoked. There were several blankets scattered about, along with opened cans of Ravioli, Rosarita refried beans and a trash sack full of Kataki’s Gourmet Kobi Beef Jerky wrappers. A plastic jug still full of water was against the back wall. There were lots of tracks and flattened areas and I could see areas of dark spots scattered here and there, looking like someone had flicked paint off a paint brush. The spots were blood, still congealing. Someone had had the crap beaten out of them. I was no tracker like Hunter, but with all the dust it was easy to see there had been six or eight people in the cave and they were grouped with four having large prints and the other four with three sets of small prints and one average print. The blood spots were always near the average prints. The tracks showed everyone leaving the cave and going farther down the canyon. I noticed a crumpled paper under the edge of a boulder and picked it up. It was a topo map, but not the one I had. I looked around the borders until I saw the name of my topo. Great. It was the next map of the canyon, starting just past Chumash Cave. It showed a clear dirt road a half mile down canyon. I had walked maybe ten miles to get here, and if I’d looked at the very next map, I could have driven to within ten minutes of the place.
I was glad Hunter and Hondo weren’t here, I’d never live it down. Jeez.
I studied the cave again and my eyes kept returning to the far left corner and a jumble of rocks. I walked to it and kicked one with my toe. There was no dust covering the flat stone. The others had a fine coating like sifted flour. I used my toe to lift the edge and saw a tiny piece of black plastic protruding from the earth like a blade of grass. I moved the rock and pulled on the plastic. It was a trash bag, but wouldn’t come out. I dug with my hands and uncovered the bag enough to open the drawstring. Inside was a rolled up cloth the size of a basketball. I took it out and the first thing I noticed was the weight. I put the cloth on the ground and opened it.
It was treasure. Three items were inside. The first was an incredible egg, decorated with gold and jewels. I picked it up and opened it. Inside was an exquisite miniature carriage encrusted in precious stones and gold. I put the egg together and laid it down. Pictures don’t do justice to a Faberge egg. The second item was a gold crucifix maybe eight inches high, with emeralds and rubies the size of my thumbnail covering the surface. The third was a fine chain gold necklace with a palm-sized pendant made of different colored diamonds. There were varying sizes of clear diamonds forming the outer ring, then a group of six marble-sized deep blue diamonds evenly spaced around the center piece, which was a canary yellow diamond the size of a walnut.
I sat on the ground and looked at the items on the cloth. Letting undocumented people transport something like this was a very risky play. It indicated to me these people were desperate, and the items obviously stolen. They must have lookouts at every Port of Entry and International airport in the country, I thought. There was a better chance bringing it in by using the undocumented than they would ever have trying to pass through Customs.
So, Bob Landman brings the undocumented aliens here to protect them and to hide out himself, then he hides the artifacts, and Rakes and his crew find them. They beat Bob up, but he won’t talk, so Rakes takes all of them to some place safe where they can work on Landman and the women as long as they want until someone talks. Then they will kill everyone and dispose of the bodies, leave no witnesses.
I wrapped everything up in the cloth, put it back in the trash bag and slung it over my shoulder. I used the second topo map to take me to the dirt road. I followed it for four miles to pavement where I sat in the shade of a large boulder and called Archie on my cell phone to come pick me up.
Talk about whine, Archie went on so much he sounded like a seven-forty-seven. He finally relented but said he first had to help his thirty-two year old girlfriend finish her pelvic thrusts.
I didn’t go there.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Archie took the turns in his Corvette as if he was competing at Le Mans. I held on and cinched the seatbelt a little tighter. The trash bag was between my feet on the floorboard.
“What’s in the sack, you picking up aluminum cans along the road now that you’re unemployed? Haw!”
“It’s jewels from the last czar of Russia.”
“Uh-huh. Boy, you just can’t answer a question without being a smartass, can you?” He mumbled something else.
“What did you say?”
“I said I’ll be glad when they get your four-wheeled tuna-mobile finished. You’re closer to a normal human being when you have it to drive.”
“It should be finished tomorrow.”
“Good. Now really, what’s in the sack?”
“Some things I found that might be evidence.”
“Now see, wasn’t that easier than making up wild stories?”
“Been a revelation. I’ll do things this way from now on.” Archie pulled up and parked by my Yugo with a satisfied smile on his tough brown face.
**
The first thing I did at the office was to put the jewels in our file cabinet and lock it. Holding millions of dollars in stolen jewelry causes a weight on your mind. My next move was to tell Hondo, and I went into Archie’s apartment and met Waylon, who looks like Morgan Freeman with more gray hair. We talked for a while, then I went to the bedroom where Hondo was propped up with pillows and reading an Elmore Leonard paperback. I told him what I’d found and what I thought.
Hondo said, “You want to use the jewels as trading material, get Landman and the women in exchange for it.”
“Yeah, I figured they’ll bite.”