He saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes before she turned it off.
“I’m from East Sheen, you know, in Richmond. It’s an old hunting lodge originally built for the Earl of Northumberland. My great-great-grandfather Appleton Kohath bought it in 1905, I believe, a wedding present for his wife. Alas, neither my twin nor I have spent much time there. We were always on digs with our mother, though Ajax and I visit whenever we get a chance. Don’t you agree it’s always nice to go home?”
“Who lives in the hunting lodge now?”
She shrugged. “Oh, our father was the only resident. He died, you know, a short time ago actually. We haven’t decided what to do with the pile yet. I believe the National Trust wants it, but we’ll see.”
“My condolences. When did your father die?”
“You are full of questions, aren’t you? My father died two weeks ago, a heart attack, we were told. We weren’t close. He left the business nearly ten years ago. I suppose you could say he was eccentric, a man who liked his parties and conspiracy theories. But of course, your family’s history is much more illustrious than mine. I’ve seen photos of the Drummond estate in Farrow-on-Gray as well as photos of the gardens—and your labyrinth is famous. I’d love to visit sometime. And you’ll be a peer soon enough, won’t you?”
“Not for a very long time. You’ve learned a lot in the past day and a half.”
She laughed. “Come now, Agent Drummond. You were all over the news last week. You’re famous, the man who saved the lives of the president and vice president of the United States. And now you’re here, killing off Italians.”
Nicholas smiled at her.
She gestured toward a sofa in front of the fire. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you a drink? Scotch? With water?”
“No, I prefer it straight.”
“Of course you do. You have that nice straightforward air about you.” Cassandra handed him a crystal lowball and he took a sip of the Scotch, nodded.
He wondered as he clicked his glass to Cassandra Kohath’s if she would still be standing if Mike were here instead of him. Maybe not, maybe Mike would have already slugged her.
“It’s excellent.”
“My brother, Ajax, is quite the liquor connoisseur. Now, enough questions. Tell me, what really bring
s you to my house, Agent Drummond?”
Before he could answer, she reached for a lamp cord, pulled it. Nothing happened. “Oh, bugger,” she said. “We’ll have to speak by firelight. Don’t be concerned, the lights go out here all the time. It’s being so high on the mountain, you see, and the circuits are old. The generators will kick in shortly.”
He wondered how long he had until the generator powered the house back up and her people realized all their computers were down. He heard Mike’s voice in his ear again. “Checking in. She’s not here yet, I’m going in farther to see if there’s another door.”
He said, “I see you’ve done extensive work to the palazzo. You’ve done a nice job.”
“Thank you. It took us over ten years. The palazzo was a wedding gift from my grandfather to my parents. My brother and I have always loved the house, so filled with Templar history. We wanted it to be beautiful again. I was wondering, Agent Drummond, why did you join the FBI? I mean, for someone like you, with your background, your experiences, the FBI seems rather confining.”
Nicholas took another sip of Scotch. “No, as it turns out, I’m free to do pretty much what I want and that’s why I’m here in Italy. To catch a thief.”
“A thief? What did the thief steal?”
“The staff of Moses, from the Topkapi. Surely you know all about this, being an archaeologist.”
“Of course. My brother and I found it somewhat amusing.”
“And why is that?”
“All archaeologists know the purported staff of Moses at the Topkapi is a fake. So who cares if it was stolen? It doesn’t matter at all.” She raised her Scotch glass to his again. “Still, if you want so desperately to find the thief who stole something quite worthless, then good luck, Agent Drummond.”
“Thank you. We believe you and your brother had the staff stolen. Since you are a Kohath, you would doubtless want to verify that it was indeed a fake. After all, isn’t the staff of Moses supposed to be inside the Ark of the Covenant?”
“Such is the accepted wisdom.”
“But you weren’t one hundred percent certain it was fake, so you had it stolen. How did you prove it wasn’t the real staff?”
She laughed. “I’ll say it again, Agent Drummond, neither Ajax nor I would have any reason to want that absurd fake staff. We were told from the cradle it was fake, so, you see, I fear you will have to look elsewhere for the mastermind behind your thief.”