inca.gold-第44部分

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is　shirt；　opened　one　end　and　pulled　out　the　illustrations　and　cutaway　plans　of　a　standard　treasure　galleon　Perlmutter　had　faxed。　Using　the　plans　as　a　guide；　he　carefully　measured　off　his　steps　until　he　estimated　he　was　in　the　area　of　the　hold　where　the　valuable　cargo　would　have　been　stored。
　　　　Pitt　went　to　work　clearing　what　he　thought　was　a　heavy　layer　of　post。　It　proved　to　be　only　10　centimeters　（4　inches）　thick。　He　had　only　to　brush　away　the　deposing　leaves　with　his　hands　to　reveal　several　beautifully　carved　stone　heads　and　full　figures　of　various　sizes。　He　guessed　they　were　religious　animal　gods。　A　sigh　of　relief　escaped　his　lips　at　discovering　that　the　wreck　of　the　galleon　was　untouched。
　　　　Scraping　away　a　length　of　rotting　vine　that　had　fallen　from　the　trees　far　above；　he　discovered　twelve　more　carvings；　three　that　were　life…size。　In　the　ghostly　light　their　green　coating　of　mold　made　them　look　like　corpses　arising　from　the　grave。　A　clutter　of　clay　pots　and　effigies　had　not　fared　as　well　after　the　damp　of　four　centuries。　Those　that　were　relatively　intact　crumbled　when　touched。　Of　the　textiles　that　had　been　part　of　the　original　treasure　trove；　all　had　rotted　into　a　few　swatches　of　black　mold。
　　　　Pitt　eagerly　dug　deeper；　ignoring　torn　fingernails　and　the　slime　that　smeared　his　hands。　He　found　a　cache　of　jade；　elegantly　ornate　and　painstakingly　carved。　There　were　so　many　pieces　he　soon　lost　count。　They　were　mingled　with　mosaics　made　of　mother…of…pearl　and　turquoise。　Pitt　paused　and　wiped　the　sweat　from　his　face　with　his　forearm。　This　bonanza　was　bound　to　open　a　can　of　worms；　he　reflected。　He　could　already　envision　the　legal　battles　and　diplomatic　machinations　that　would　occur　between　Ecuadorian　archaeologists　and　government　officials；　who　would　claim　the　artifacts　belonged　to　them　by　right　of　possession；　and　their　counterparts　in　Peru；　who　would　claim　the　trove　as　their　original　property。　Whatever　the　legal　entanglements；　the　one　certainty　was　that　none　of　the　masterworks　of　Inca　art　would　end　up　on　a　shelf　in　Pitt's　home。
　　　　He　glanced　at　his　watch。　Over　an　hour　had　passed　since　he　dropped　through　the　trees。　He　left　the　mass　of　jumbled　antiquities　and　continued　moving　toward　what　had　once　been　the　captain's　cabin　on　the　stern　of　the　galleon。　He　was　swinging　the　blade　of　the　machete　back　and　forth　to　sweep　the　dead　vegetation　away　from　a　debris　mound　when　the　blade　suddenly　clanged　on　a　solid　metal　object。　Kicking　the　leaves　to　the　side　he　found　that　he　had　stumbled　on　one　of　the　ship's　two　cannons。　The　bronze　barrel　had　long　since　been　coated　by　a　thick　green　patina　and　the　muzzle　was　filled　with　post　accumulated　through　the　centuries。
　　　　Pitt　could　no　longer　tell　where　his　perspiration　left　of　and　the　humid　moisture　from　the　forest　began。　It　was　like　working　in　a　steam　bath；　with　the　added　annoyance　of　tiny　gnatlike　insects　that　swarmed　around　his　unprotected　head　and　face。　Fallen　vines　wrapped　around　his　ankles；　and　twice　he　slipped　on　the　wet　plant　growth　and　fell。　A　layer　of　clay　soil　and　decayed　leaves　adhered　to　his　body；　giving　him　the　look　of　some　swamp　creature　from　a　haunted　bog。　The　steamy　atmosphere　was　slowly　sapping　his　strength；　and　he　fought　back　an　overwhelming　urge　to　lie　down　on　a　soft　pile　of　leaves　and　take　a　nap；　an　urge　that　abruptly　vanished　at　the　repulsive　sight　of　a　bushmaster　slithering　across　a　nearby　heap　of　ballast　stones。　The　largest　poisonous　snake　in　the　Americas；　3　meters　（10　feet）　long；　pink　and　tan　with　dark　diamond　shaped　blotches；　the　notorious　pit　viper　was　extremely　lethal。　Pitt　gave　it　a　wide　berth　and　kept　a　wary　eye　for　its　relatives。
　　　　He　knew　he　was　in　the　right　area　when　he　uncovered　the　big　pintles　and　gudgeons；　now　badly　rusted；　that　once　held　and　pivoted　the　rudder。　His　foot　accidentally　kicked　something　buried　in　the　ground；　an　unidentifiable　circular　band　of　ornate　iron。　When　he　bent　down　for　a　closer　inspection　he　saw　shards　of　glass。　He　checked　Perlmutter's　illustrations　and　recognized　the　object　as　the　stern　running　light。　The　rudder　fittings　and　the　lamp　told　him　that　he　was　standing　over　what　had　been　the　captain's　cabin。　Now　his　search　for　the　jade　box　began　in　earnest。
　　　　In　forty　minutes　of　searching　on　his　hands　and　knees；　he　found　an　inkwell；　two　goblets；　and　the　remains　of　several　oil　lamps。　Without　stopping　to　rest；　he　carefully　brushed　away　a　small　heap　of　leaves　and　found　himself　looking　into　a　green　eye　that　stared　back　through　the　dank　humus。　He　wiped　his　wet　hands　on　his　pants；　took　a　bandanna　from　his　pocket；　and　lightly　cleaned　the　features　around　the　eye。　A　human　face　became　visible；　one　that　had　been　artistically　carved　with　great　care　from　a　solid　piece　of　jade。　Pitt　held　his　breath。
　　　　Keeping　his　enthusiasm　in　check；　he　painstakingly　dug　four　small　trenches　around　the　unblinking　face；　deep　enough　to　see　that　it　was　the　lid　to　a　box　about　the　size　of　a　twelve…volt　car　battery。　When　the　box　was　totally　uncovered；　he　lifted　it　from　the　moist　soil　where　it　had　rested　since　1578　and　set　it　between　his　legs。
　　　　Pitt　sat　in　wondrous　awe　for　the　better　part　of　ten　minutes；　afraid　to　pry　off　the　lid　and　find　nothing　but　damp　rot　inside。　With　great　trepidation　he　took　a　small　Swiss　army　knife　from　one　pocket；　swung　out　the　thinnest　blade　and　began　to　jimmy　the　lid。　The　box　was　so　tightly　sealed　he　had　to　constantly　shift　the　knife　blade　around　the　box；　prying　each　side　a　fraction　of　a　millimeter　before　moving　on　to　the　next。　Twice　he　paused　to　wipe　away　the　sweat　that　trickled　into　his　eyes。　Finally；　the　lid　popped　free。　Then；　irreverently；　he　clenched　the　face　by　the　nose；　lifted　the　lid　and　peeked　inside。
　　　　The　interior　of　the　box　was　lined　with　cedar　and　contained　what　looked　to　him　to　be　a　folded　mass　of　multicolored　knotted　string。　Several　of　the　strands　had　faded　but　they　were　intact　and　their　colors　could　still　be　distinguished。　Pitt　couldn't　believe　the　remarkable　state　of　preservation；　until　he　closely　studied　the　antiquity　and　realized　it　was　made；　not　from　cotton　or　wool；　but　twisted　coils　of　tinted　metal。
　　　　〃That's　it！〃　he　shouted；　startling　a　tree　full　of　macaws；　who　winged　into　the　depths　of　the　rain　forest　amid　a　chorus　of　shrieking　chatter。　〃The　Drake　quipu。〃
　　　　Clutching　the　box　with　the　tenacity　of　an　Ebenezer　Scrooge　refusing　to　donate　to　a　Christmas　charity；　Pitt　found　a　reasonably　dry　fallen　tree　to　sit　on。　He　stared　into　the　jade　face　and　wondered　if　the　quipu's　secret　could　somehow　be　unriddled。　According　to　Dr。　Ortiz；　the　last　person　who　might　have　read　the　knotted　strands　had　died　four　hundred　years　ago。　He　fervently　hoped　that　Yaeger's　state…of…the…art　puter　could　cut　through　time　and　solve　the　mystery。
　　　　He　was　still　sitting　there　amid　the　ghosts　of　the　English　and　Spanish　seamen；　oblivious　to　a　swarm　of　biting　insects；　the　stabbing　pain　from　his　gashed　arm；　and　the　clammy　dampness；　when　the　returning　helicopter　came　within　earshot　from　somewhere　in　the　shrouded　sky。

　　　　A　small　van；　marked　with　the　name　of　a　well　known　express　package　pany；　drove　up　a　ramp　and　stopped　at　the　shipping　and　receiving　door　of　a　sizable　one…story　concrete　building。　The　structure　covered　one　city　block　of　a　huge　warehouse　plex　near　Galveston；　Texas。　There　was　no　pany　sign　on　the　roof　or　walls。　The　only　evidence　that　it　was　occupied　came　from　a　small　brass　plaque　beside　the　door　that　read　Logan　Storage　pany。　It　was　just　after　six　o'clock　in　the　evening。　Too　late　for　employees　to　be　working　on　the　job　but　still　early　enough　not　to　arouse　the　suspicion　of　the　patrolling　security　guards。
　　　　Without　exiting　the　van；　the　driver　punched　in　a　code　on　a　remote　control　box　that　deactivated　the　security　alarm　and　raised　the　big　door。　As　it　rose　to　the　ceiling；　it　revealed　the　interior　of　a　vast　storehouse　filled　to　the　roof　support　girders　with　seemingly　endless　racks　packed　with　furniture　and　ordinary　household　goods。　There　was　no　hint　of　life　anywhere　on　the　spacious　concrete　floor。　Now　assured　that　all　employees　had　left　for　home；　the　driver　moved　the　van　inside　and　waited　for　the　door　to　close。　Then　he　drove　onto　a　platform　scale　large　enough　to　hold　an　eighteen…wheel　truck　and　trailer。
　　　　He　stepped　from　the　vehicle　and　walked　over　to　a　small　instrument　panel　on　a　pedestal　and　pressed　a　code　into　a　switch　labeled　Engage　Weigh…in。　The　platform　vibrated　and　then　began　to　sink　beneath　the　floor；　revealing　itself　to　be　a　huge　freight　elevator。　After　it　settled　onto　the　basement　floor；　the　driver　eased　the　van　into　a　large　tunnel　while　behind　him　the　elevator　automatically　returned　to　the　upper　storage　floor。
　　　　The　tunnel　stretched　for　nearly　a　full　kilometer　before　ending　deep　beneath　the　main　floor　of　another　huge　warehouse。　Here　in　a　vast　subterranean　plex　the　Zolar　family　conducted　their　criminal　operations；　while　operating　as　a　legitimate　business　on　the　main　floor。
　　　　On　the　honest　business　level；　regular　employees　entered　a　glass　entrance　to　administration　offices　that　ran　along　one　entire　wall　of　the　building。　The　rest　of　the　spacious　floor　housed　thousands　of　valuable　paintings；　sculptures；　and　a　great　variety　of　antiques。　All　had　impeccably　bona　fide　origins　and　were　legally　purchased　and　sold　on　the　open　market。　A　separate　department　at　the　rear　housed　the　preservation　department；　where　a　small　team　of　master　craftsmen　worked　to　restore　damaged　art　and　ancient　artifacts　to　their　original　splendor。　None　of　the　employees　of　Zolar　International　or　Logan　Storage　pany；　even　those　with　twenty　years　of　service　or　more；　remotely　suspected　the　great　clandestine　operation　that　took　place　beneath　their　feet。
　　　　The　driver　exited　the　tunnel　and　entered　an　enormous　sprawling　secret　sub…basement　whose　interior　floor　space　was　even　larger　than　the　main　surface　level　20　meters　（66　feet）　above。　About　two…thirds　of　the　area　was　devoted　to　the　accumulation；　storage；　and　eventual　sale　of　stolen　and　smuggled　artworks。　The　remaining　third　was　set　aside　for　the　Zolar　family's　thriving　artifact　forgery　and　fabrication　program。　This　subterranean　level　was　known　only　to　the　immediate　members　of　the　Zolar　family；　a　few　loyal　copartners　in　the　operation；　and　the　original　construction　crew；　who　were　brought　in　from　Russia　and　then　returned　when　the　subter