Max’s eyes were moist as he scanned the room. “I had to, you see. I fell in love with the art. It has always owned me and not the other way around.”

Zoe nodded, feeling the irresistible gravity that pulled her toward the magnificence gathered in the room.

Again, deep coughing racked his chest.

“It is a sin, I know, for me to have had all of this for so long, and I wish for you to help me atone.”

Zoe raised her eyebrows.

“Most of the art is stolen. I wish for you to return as much of it as possible to the rightful owners—or to their heirs. I have already transferred to an account in Zurich …” He fumbled under the blanket that covered his lap and knees and produced an envelope. Zoe got up and took it from him. She looked cautiously at it and then sat back down.

“The account is in your name and that of your husband; either of you can draw upon it. It represents an amount that would be several times your normal commission if the art were sold.”

Zoe’s head spun. That had to be tens of millions of dollars.

“If you cannot locate the rightful owners, then I wish for you to make a decision as to which public museum—or museums—should receive the art as a donation. There is a separate provision in my last will and testament that provides for all the expenses associated with this.”

Zoe opened her mouth, but words would not follow.

Max shook his head. “Don’t,” he said. ‘Think about this; sleep on it Talk to your husband. For there is an even more awesome responsibility that I would like the two of you to assume; larger, more important, more awesome than all of the art. An ancient secret; a religious truth; knowledge that can change the entire course of human affairs.”

“What…?”

Again, Max shook his head. “On the table beside you…”

Zoe looked over and saw, for the first time, a leather briefcase.

‘Take it to your husband. My research indicates that he reads ancient Greek fluently.”

Zoe nodded dumbly.

“He will want to read this as soon as possible.” Max coughed violently for a moment. When he recovered, he continued: “I will also be sending you something via courier, something I must retrieve from a more secure location.”

More secure than this? Zoe wondered. What on earth could be more important than all this?

He blinked at her. “I have just now—this moment—decided to send this item to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I see truth in your eyes,” Max said. “When it arrives, examine this thing. Talk to your husband. You and he must be truthful with each other about your decision. Then come back to see me tomorrow and give me your answer and we will begin our work here.”

TWO

The last golden rays of sunset bathed Seth Ridgeway in warm Gauguin colors as he sat on the hotel room sofa and bent over the ancient manuscript spread out on the coffee table. Finally, he straightened up and looked across the room at Zoe.