"He said he didn’t know of any such group, as he is focused on groups from the 15th century. I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to ask if he knew anything of the Antikythera mechanism. He did and became very excited. His interest was piqued, so I explained that I was doing research on a rumored second device, and was trying to track down the name of the group in Greece who has it. To say he was enthusiastic would be an understatement. I explained the importance of keeping it secret, at least until I publish my findings. I also promised to give him a credit, if he could dig up the name of the group.”
“Publish your findings?”
“Don’t worry, I'm not going to publish anything, but it's how we in the world of academia work; our life blood, if you will. ‘Publish or perish’ is the old saying. Anyway, he said he was happy to do some checking and that he'd get back to me in a few days. I couldn’t think of a reason to ask for it more quickly, so I left it at that.”
“There must be more to the story. I can tell you're setting me up for a dramatic conclusion.”
Professor Brookert laughed. “I do try to have a flair for the dramatic. Yes, he called back this morning. He was almost unable to contain himself. Apparently, there was a group called The Thorstians which was mostly disbanded during the War. He wasn’t sure how many members there were, but apparently their numbers were greatly depleted during the fighting. The few that remained failed to keep the artifact safe, as it was stolen by the Nazis in 1944. Or that was the rumor. He found an article in an obscure Greek underground newspaper which questioned whether it had been truly stolen by Nazis or perhaps it was just a couple of opportunistic Thorstians who weren’t as loyal as the others. It seems it was a paper for members of the club.”
“That is interesting, but…”
“Oh, I'm not done. It appears the paper is still around, though it has grown beyond the business of the Thorstians, and my friend was able to talk to the editor, who was there when it happened. He didn’t have many details beyond the article, but he did say that there were still those who believed they had been betrayed. It was also rumored that the remaining Thorstians had an idea who it might be and had vowed to see them dead and to do anything to get their treasure back. My friend found the name in an old newspaper article ‘Eye of God’ and got a description. He says it sounds very similar to the Antikythera mechanism, but that the Eye of God was in working condition, though the editor didn’t think it really did anything. I trust my friend, but I may have opened a can of worms by letting him in on our secret. I am going to need to come up with a reason for giving up on the research.”
“You made the right move. This is exactly what our client wants to know. It will help justify our fee and keep him happy while I continue to look for Mickey’s killer. Oh, and that reminds me, I meant to call you yesterday. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I asked another friend to look into it as well.”
“Really? You doubted me.” He sounded a little hurt, but mostly curious.
“His name is Bobby. He's a strange little guy who rented me my current office. He wanted to help on the case, so I thought I would throw him a bone. I don’t expect him to have any luck, but I wanted you to know. He is an annoying little fellow, but is starting to grow on me.”
“You are a kind man, Henry Wood. I'd like to meet Bobby, and I'll bring him up to speed on what I've found. Make him feel like part of the team.”
“You’re aces, Prof. Pop by the office later, and I'll introduce you.”
Henry almost made a call to Dr. Schaeffer, but thought better of it. It was still pretty early, so it could wait. Starting off the day with a little good news helped his hangover.
Chapter Forty-Three
Patrick had been filling boxes for a couple of hours. The radio's volume was barely audible, not much more than white noise. Humming to himself, he applied the packing tape. He had done a lot of soul searching and was at peace with his decision to get out of the business. Maybe he would try painting something not painted before or…perhaps not. It might be nice just to sleep, drink, and wile away the hours.
The phone, under a box, gave a muted ring.
“Yes?”
“I have the final location finished. When will the showings begin?”
“I'll have a schedule delivered to you tomorrow.”
There was a click on the other end, which Patrick liked. Short, to the point, and once the question was answered, done. He continued to pack as he thought about how he would word the invites for the viewing. Short and sweet, a quick review of the process, though it wasn’t necessary, as they had all been through his auctions. He would start with Dr. Schaeffer, as he was always polite, which Patrick appreciated. Then he would invite Andre Garneau, who was seldom polite, usually annoying, and such a pain, he wanted to get him out of the way. Mr. Brown, sadly, had passed.