Austin showed him his NUMA ID. Mustapha had never heard of the agency, but the fact that Austin carried special identification impressed him. Mustapha was glad to get the charter. He had told the boat’s owners that if they didn’t get him a mate soon he would quit. Austin took a satellite phone from his backpack and punched in Zavala’s number. Zavala was at the port excavation, waiting for Hanley to give him the green light on the Subvette.

“You’ll have to tell Hanley that the sub’s services are needed elsewhere,” Austin said.

He gave Zavala his location and rattled off a shopping list. Zavala said if he could work out the logistics he would fly to Dalyran the next morning.

The boat pulled into its slip at dusk. Austin asked Mustapha to recommend a quiet hotel. The captain suggested a resort that was a twenty-minute drive at the end of a twisting road that wound through the wooded hills near Fethiye. The hotel clerk said reservations were usually necessary but that he had one room with a king-sized bed. Austin hadn’t given sleeping arrangements any thought. He asked Carina if she wanted to look for another hotel.

“I’m exhausted,” she said. “Still suffering from jet lag. Tell him we’ll take it.”

They had a quiet dinner in the hotel restaurant at a corner table overlooking the sea. Shish kebab and rice. The lights of Fethiye shimmered in the distance like diamonds on a necklace.

“I hate to waste a romantic setting talking business,” Austin said. “But there are certain issues we should discuss. Most of all, how did those goons track us down to the abandoned village?”

She looked as if she had been struck by lightning. “Baltazar.”

Austin smiled faintly. “You told me your benefactor was off-limits to suspicious minds.”

“He’s got to be involved. He was the only one I told about the National Geographic photographer. He arranged for the statue to be moved. Saxon warned me about him.”

“We knew all that before now. What changed your mind?”

She fidgeted in her chair. “Before we left for Istanbul, I called Baltazar’s representative and told him where we were going and why. It was part of our original financing agreement, and I didn’t see anything wrong with it at the time. Baltazar was the one who financed the recovery of the Baghdad cache.” She realized the implication of her words. “Dear God. Baltazar has wanted the statue all along. But why?”

“Let’s back up a bit,” Austin said. “Assume he was behind the theft. Why would he try to prevent us from tracking down the statue’s twin?”

“He obviously doesn’t want anyone to see it, for whatever reason.”

“Maybe we’ll know why after tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch. “Sure you’re satisfied with the sleeping arrangements? We haven’t known each other very long.”