A Treasure Deep (35 page)

“It’s more than that, Doc,” Perry corrected.
“Do you see how the surface is at an angle? The wall is thicker at
the bottom than the top. It’s an ancient construction technique.
The roof and static dirt loads are transferred to the walls which
in turn transfer the load to the ground.”

“But there’s no grout or anything,” Brent
said. “It’s just . . . a pile of rocks.”

“Look closer, kid,” Jack said. “Notice how
the stones are fitted. You’re right, there’s no binder like mortar,
but each stone is arranged to fit tightly with its neighbor. That
took long, hard work.”

“The roof is the same way,” Perry added.
“It’s fitted stone, but there has to be something beneath to hold
it up. It doesn’t matter how tightly you fit stone to stone on a
horizontal surface, gravity is going to win. There’s no place to
quarry stone, so this was the only way to do it. Gather large
stones, organize them, then piece them together like a puzzle.”

“What now?” Gleason asked.

“I wish we had time to excavate properly,”
Curtis said.

“We all do, Doc. It would be safer too.”
Perry thought for a moment and approached the wall, laying his hand
on it: This wall formed a room that hadn’t been seen for two
millennia.

He had longed to do just what he was doing,
touching the physical evidence of what could only be considered a
miracle. And here it was, just as he’d imagined. Perry had wondered
how he would respond, what words he’d say, what careful steps he
would take. All of it was now overshadowed by the threat to Claire
and Joseph.

The fire in Perry’s belly grew hotter. He
couldn’t recall being this angry before, but anger was a luxury for
others. It was time to make his next move. He looked skyward as if
hoping God had written something on the blue dome overhead. The sun
was rising quickly, dispelling the blackness of the night, but
unable to touch the darkness within Perry.

“We open her up,” Perry said.

“How do we do that?” Brent asked.

“Carefully and one stone at a time.” Perry
pointed to an area near where roof met wall. “There are two stones
larger than the rest. They look like they’ve been set as
cantilevered headers over an opening. They would’ve filled in the
opening last. I think we can start there and work down.”

“I sure wish I knew what was holding the roof
up,” Jack said. “I hate going in blind.”

“I can only think of one way to find out,”
Perry replied. “We have to open the wall and take a look.”

“I have an idea,” Brent said. “Let’s just
move one or two stones then use the camcorder. You open a spot, and
I’ll stick the camera in with the light on and pan it around some.
Then we can play it back on the built-in monitor.”

“I like it,” Perry said. “You just won a
burger from Jack.”

“What? Why me?” Jack protested.

“Because you’re Brent’s hero,” Perry said.
The light moment lasted only a second, then the driving need
returned to the forefront of Perry’s mind. “I’m limiting the crew
to two people at a time. If the wall gives, then we’ll need someone
to clean up our mess. Jack and I’ll stay down below. I may need his
muscle. The rest of you go topside.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Gleason
asked.

“Prayer would be nice,” Perry said, “and lots
of it.”

ANNE DROVE DIRECTLY to the site, weaving her Camry
along the winding dirt roads that led into the hills. The sun was
now high enough to have sponged away the last of the lingering
darkness. Things seemed uncomfortably still. Even the relentless
breeze had ceased, leaving the air as placid as glass.

At the place where the road met the slope to
the site were several of the vehicles she had seen on earlier
trips. Missing was the bulldozer that had rested on a large
trailer. The bus was gone too, but that was to be expected. Not
having a four-wheel-drive vehicle that could negotiate the sloping
terrain, Anne parked along the roadside, then started the tiring
ascent, glad she’d worn tennis shoes instead of business pumps.

Halfway up, she encountered three uniformed
men. Each wore blue pants and a white shirt with patches on the
sleeves. Private security, Anne reasoned. She knew Perry had hired
guards to replace the deputy sheriffs that had kept the crowds away
yesterday. Apparently the shift change had happened sometime during
the night. The three men sat on the ground. The crowds that had
been there the day before were gone, but Anne had no doubt that
many would be back soon.

The guards stood when they saw her approach.
One walked toward her. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, “but this area
is private property. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Anne smiled. The young man looked fresh out
of high school. “Where are you from?” Anne asked.

“Tehachapi,” he answered. He looked askance
at her. “Why?”

“I’m from Tejon,” she said. “In fact, I’m the
mayor of Tejon.”

“I wouldn’t know about that, ma’am, but I do
know that my job is to keep people out.”

She sighed, then said, “I’m here to see Mr.
Sachs . . . the man who hired you.”

“How do I know you’re mayor?” he asked. The
others joined him.

She had left her purse in the car and had no
desire to retrieve it and hike back up the hill. “My name is Anne
Fitzgerald, and I really am the major of Tejon.”

“Mr. Sachs didn’t tell me he was expecting
you.”

“Have you spoken to him?” Anne said.

“Well . . . no. We just got here an hour ago
and the deputies told us not to let anyone up there. Our boss told
us the same thing.”

“What do you plan to tell Mr. Sachs when he
comes down here and finds you’ve turned me away?”

“That I did my job.”

Anne frowned. She was getting nowhere. “How
about this: You escort me to see Mr. Sachs.”

“I don’t know if that’s wise,” the young
guard said.

Anne didn’t miss a beat. She turned to one of
the other guards. He was taller, thinner, and looked several years
older. “How about you, sport? You’re not afraid to take me up
there, are you?”

“Hey, I’m not afraid,” the first man said. “I
didn’t say anything about being afraid.”

“Good,” Anne stated as she started up the
hill. “Let’s get going.”

“Ma’am . . . ma’am . . .”

Anne ignored him and continued her ascent of
the incline. She hoped that if the man refused to join her he would
at least be hesitant to lay a hand on a woman . . . especially
fifteen or more years his senior. By her fifth step, she had
company.

“Okay, but I had better not get in trouble
for this. And you had better be the mayor.”

The incline eased as she and the security
officer neared the work site. Anne paused to catch her breath. Jays
sang in the oak trees, the sweet smell of grass perfumed the air,
and the gold of the sun mingled with the blue of the cloudless sky.
It should have felt idyllic; standing there, she should have felt a
sense of peace in the Eden-like borough, but she didn’t. It was too
quiet.

She could see the bulldozer sitting in the
distance as if fossilized. A large backhoe rested a few feet away.
Another piece of equipment, similar to the backhoe but much larger
and without the skip loader on the front, was farther away but just
as lifeless. Three men in hardhats stood with heads down. Mounds of
dirt surrounded them. Anne approached, and as she did, she saw a
large hole in the ground. The men were staring down into the pit.
After another dozen steps she saw the sinkhole. It was uneven in
shape, and its sides were unstable.

“Wow,” the guard said. “What happened
here?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” As
she approached, the three men among the mounds noticed her. She
recognized them, and apparently they recognized her.

Now within earshot, she heard the man who had
been introduced to her as Gleason shout into the hole. “Perry, we
have company . . . the mayor.”

“Told you,” she said to the guard.

“That you did,” he replied.

Anne led the way and approached the Sachs
men. “Madam Mayor,” Gleason said with a gentlemanly nod. She
returned the gesture and looked down. Her stomach dropped. Deep in
the ground Perry and Jack stood next to a stone wall of some
kind.

“Are you Mr. Sachs?” the guard shouted
down.

“I am,” came the reply. “Who are you?”

“Larry Duncan. I’m with Enterprise Security.
We’re the replacements for the deputies.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you
doing here?”

“This lady says she knows you.” Duncan’s
bluster was dissolving.

“That lady is the town mayor, and yes, she
does know me.”

“So I can leave her here?”

Perry didn’t answer right away, and Anne
steeled herself for the rejection she knew was coming. “She can
stay,” Perry finally said, but they were words without confidence.
Clearly he was conflicted by the decision.

“Okay. I’ll be returning to the post,” the
guard said as he left.

Anne looked down at Perry, and he returned
her gaze. He looked weary, his shoulders slightly stooped, his
gloved hands hanging limply at his side. The connection lasted only
a moment, then Perry turned back to the stone wall. He removed a
stone, then handed it to Jack, who used a piece of construction
chalk to mark it. Anne could see that twenty or thirty stones had
already been removed, chalked, and placed to one side.

Anne walked over to Gleason and the others.
“What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story, Mayor. And
complicated.”

“It doesn’t look safe down there,” Anne
said.

“It’s not,” Gleason admitted.

Anne turned and read the concern on Gleason’s
face. “Then why . . .”

“Don’t ask,” Gleason said. “Just don’t
ask.”

THE STONES FASCINATED and frightened Perry. Each time
he laid a gloved hand on one of the rocks, he wondered about the
men who had so skillfully placed them there eons ago. He wondered
what brought them this far from home, how they had made an
impossible journey across the oceans and then traveled so far
inland from the sea. He thought of their sacrifices, the families
left at home, the illnesses and pains they endured, the fears they
conquered. He also wondered about the jigsaw arrangement of the
stones. With each stone he removed he prepared himself to flee the
collapsing wall. So far he had been able to stay in place.

Perry pulled the stones from top to bottom
and left to right along the courses. All of this was done as a
concession to Dr. Curtis. It took no more time and would allow the
archaeologist to re-build the wall if necessary.

Despite the unrelenting concern of structural
failure from the wall and dirt slides from the pit walls, Perry
worked at a steady, driven pace. A part of him wanted to tear into
the wall, throwing stones to the side. Time was working against
him, but he also knew that he couldn’t help Claire and Joseph if he
were trapped under a crushing pile of rubble. So he worked just
beyond what caution demanded and just under what desperation
pleaded for.

One minute turned to ten; ten morphed into
thirty; thirty became sixty, and as it did, Perry had removed all
but two courses of stone. Those could easily be stepped over. Jack
moved to his side. “God is good.”

“No matter what happens,” Perry agreed, “God
is good. Shall we see what’s inside?” They already had an idea of
what lay beyond the wall. Brent’s creative idea of opening a small
hole just large enough for the video camera and the hand that held
it had revealed a bare chamber, a space with the dimensions of a
good-size bedroom.

Perry had felt sick. Empty. Nothing. Just
four stone walls dimly lit by the video camera’s built-in light.
The despair spread in a suffocating wave through the others: All
the work, all the frustration, all the danger for nothing?

Then an odd sensation had tickled the back of
Perry’s brain. He pushed the camera through the opening again,
panning it back and forth, but to a lesser degree. Removing his arm
from the opening, he had brought the camera out, rewound it, and
played it back through the small color view screen.

“What are you thinking?” Jack had asked.

“I’m thinking that the room the camera shows
is smaller than the returns we got on the GPR survey. I’m thinking
that we’re seeing an anteroom, a lobby, and not the real treasure.”
He passed the camera around, and each man agreed. Then Perry did as
he said he would: He banished everyone from the pit except Jack. As
soon as they were clear, Perry removed another stone.

Now an opening the size of a bathroom door
stood before them. Perry called for two large flashlights, and
Brent brought them down, exiting under Perry’s orders as quickly as
he came.

“This is what we came for,” Perry said. “No
sense in putting it off.”

“Yea, though I walk through the chamber of
death, I shall fear no evil . . .” Jack said in Shakespearean
tones.

“You have a sick sense of humor, buddy,”
Perry quipped.

“I prefer my danger served up with a dash of
smile.”

Perry activated a flashlight and pointed it
into the opening. Centuries of darkness gave way to the bright
beam. Before crossing the threshold Perry poked his head in and
surveyed the room. It smelled of long-settled dust, and the air was
surprisingly moist. The other three walls looked identical to the
one they had just opened. Pointing the light up, he saw round
timbers set side by side.

“There’s your explanation,” Perry said. “They
stacked timbers log-cabin style to hold up the roof. They are a
foot or more in diameter.” Perry pulled back to let Jack have a
look.

“Impressive. That much lumber could hold
fifty times the stones they have on there. There are no gaps
between the logs. Even after all these years and the weight of all
that dirt, it held. If engineers got medals, these guys would
deserve a case of them.”