Austin took a quick shower and changed into slacks and a polo shirt. He filled a travel mug with the Jamaican coffee he favored, slipped behind the wheel of a turquoise Jeep Cherokee from the NUMA motor pool, and headed toward the Maryland suburbs.

He arrived at the Smithsonian Institution’s complex of warehouses a half hour earlier than Carina had asked him to come. He wanted time alone with the statue that had caused so much commotion. The security guard at the door checked his name against a clipboard list and waved him into the corrugated-metal building. Running the length of the building’s interior were rows of shelves neatly stacked with labeled cardboard cartons that held overflow from the Smithsonian’s massive collections.

A slender man was fiddling with a camera mounted on a tripod that stood next to a bronze statue. The photographer looked up from the viewfinder and frowned.

Austin extended his hand. “Anthony Saxon, I presume.”

Saxon hiked a bushy eyebrow. “Have we met?”

“My name is Kurt Austin. I’m with NUMA. I attended your lecture on lost cities a couple of years ago at the Explorers Club. I recognized you from the jacket of your last book, Quest for the Queen.”

Saxon’s frown vanished and he reached out and shook Austin’s hand like a pump handle.

“Kurt Austin. You found Christopher Columbus. I’m honored to meet you.”

Austin hedged his reply. “I was part of a team effort that found old Chris taking a nap.”

“Nevertheless, your discovery of the Columbus mummy on a Phoenician ship in a Mayan tomb established the scientific base for pre-Columbian contact in the New World.”

“Many people still don’t accept it as fact.”

“They are Philistines! I used your find as a foundation for my theories. What did you think of my book?”

“Entertaining and informative. The concepts are highly original.”

Saxon snorted. “When people call my work original, they’re often saying that it’s nutty. They compare my stuff to those books that brought UFOs, cow mutilations, and space aliens into the debate.”

“I didn’t think the book was nutty at all. Your theory that the Phoenicians came across the Pacific, as well as the Western Hemisphere, was fascinating. When you stirred the Queen of Sheba into the mix, it was bound to cause controversy. You made a strong case that she is the key that will unlock the ancient puzzle of Ophir.”

“The queen has her dainty little prints over centuries of historical record. I’ve been following her trail for years.”

“It wouldn’t be the first case of cherchez la femme. Too bad an accidental fire destroyed your Phoenician ship replica before you could prove your theory.”

Anger flashed in Saxon’s eyes. “That was no accident,” he said.

“I don’t understand.”