The Stolen Da Vinci Manuscripts Read Online Free PDF

go see.”
    He is distraught on return. “It’s security –
the lockers are cordoned off – I can’t get my bag! They are sending
people out of the airport.”
    “Oh my God!” I sympathize. “We have to
go.”
    “I can’t – I must have my bag.”
    It is simple for me to hide in the melee and
get to gate A11 for departure on the return flight. Sucker! In the
airport I phone Interpol. I tell them that I want to stay anonymous
but that I know of a dead body in a hotel room and his murderer
Montego…

Chapter 10: Back To Rome Meeting The
Traitor
     
     
    Panama is a magnificent country from the air
and I wish I could get to explore it, but this time I will be very
happy to leave. Somewhere over the Caribbean I use my success in
the recovery of the books as an excuse to call Gavin and report my
adventure, but what I really want is to hear his voice.
    “Sweetheart – well done! Tell you what – I’ll
meet you at the hotel tonight and treat you to a night out.”
    “We can’t go out – the banks will be closed
and I need to keep these books in sight at all times.”
    “Okay – dinner in your room then.”
    “You’ll fly to Rome again?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “Gavin…”
    “Yes?”
    “You understand that we are just very good
friends for now…”
    “Yes, I get it.”
    “Thank you – later on maybe.”
    “Okay – see you tonight.”
     
    Gavin is waiting for me with keen
anticipation. “Why do you have blond hair? Never mind… that’s
them?” He points to my bag.
    “I didn’t have time to open the box, but I
think so.”
    He makes sure the doors are locked and
shutters closed. “Let’s see…”
    I lift the box out carefully and place it on
a bath towel set on the coffee table.
    We stand in awe and reverence at what we hope
sits inside. There are pry marks on one side which I assume are
recent.
    “Go ahead…” Gavin prompts, handing me a
knife.
    “I’m scared.”
    “Want me to?”
    “No, I’ll do it.”
    My fingers shake as I insert the blade
between lid and side and lever downwards, just the box itself has
immense value so I take great care not to damage it further.
    With a slight creak it raises sufficiently
for me to finish the removal with my fingers and expose the canvas
package inside. It’s tied with a jute cord which alarms me.
    “That’s not original.” I determine. “Oh
dear.”
    “What about the canvas?” Gavin asks.
    “Could be.” My magnifying glass reveals
fibers that would typically be found in materials of that era.
    The package remains firm as I lift it out.
“That’s a good sign…”
    Picking the knot open with tweezers I become
aware that I stopped breathing, so I step away for a moment. I lay
open the canvas with my fingers to behold a stack of ancient books
- not the hoped for eighty, but perhaps thirty in number sitting on
a wooden block.
    “Wonder where the others are?” Gavin
questions.
    “Mmmm.”
    “Do you think the guy you ‘procured’ them
from took them?”
    “I don’t think so – he only had one bag with
him when he left the hotel and he went straight to the airport from
here.”
    “So who?”
    “The original thief perhaps – or
Roberto…”
    “Or his father?” Gavin suggested. “Or, they
were never in the box.”
    “Oh I think they were in the box – this
wooden block is quite modern. There is another possibility though –
Marconi went to visit someone or people not far from here – I
followed him. – he may have sold them.”
    “We should follow on that.” He said.
    “We?” I ask, paying half attention while
concentrating on the books.
    “Why not? I do bring some muscle to
the games.”
    “Mmmm.”
    “What?”
    “This seems to be the real deal.” I
opine.
    “Can you open one?”
    “No, this has to be undertaken in laboratory
conditions.”
    “Yes. Of course – it’s just so…”
    “Amazing, unbelievable, incredible… there
aren’t words to describe this find.” I complain.
    Gavin leans forward to smell