Golden Chariot Page 13

  “Where’d you get these?”

  “Unlike me, Petalas isn’t an idiot. He wasn’t completely sure you told the truth about not meeting or talking to anyone other than Ekrem and Heather. He pulled the security tapes from the airport for the day you arrived. Now answer my question.”

  “It isn’t what it looks like.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “I was in baggage claim. I struggled with my case. You know how the wheels catch on the edge at times. I was jerking on the handle when this man interceded and lifted the case to the floor for me. I thanked him. He smiled. He said something to the effect of welcome to Santorini, lovely lady. I don’t recall exactly. I thanked him for the compliment and asked if he knew where the taxi stand was. He told me and I left. It was a thirty second encounter. That’s everything.”

  “When I showed you his picture you denied ever seeing him.”

  “I was scared of the reaction. If I mentioned I’d seen him, however briefly, either you or the Greek investigators might suspect I knew more than I was saying. Petalas has always treated me with suspicion.”

  “So, you lied---” He banged his white-knuckled fist on the table and leaned a fraction closer. “To me!”

  Charlotte understood his anger but if he could just set it aside for the moment and let her explain.

  She reached over. “Atakan, I’m so sorry.”

  He grabbed her wrist hard and shoved her hand away. “Sit back or I’ll cuff you to the table ring.”

  She folded her hands in front of her and tried to explain. “If I told you the truth, you’d have to tell the Ministry and the Greeks.”

  “In Santorini, I specifically asked you if anyone spoke to you. That was before you allegedly knew who Tischenko was. If he was merely a man who helped you, a person you had a minor conversation with, why not tell me then?”

  “In all honesty, I simply forgot. Keep in mind the trauma of the previous hours. A two minute talk to a stranger in the airport slipped my mind. Do you remember everyone you’ve ever had a passing conversation with at an airport?”

  “Which is it? A thirty second talk or a two minute talk? Your story changes every time you tell it.”

  Her nasal passages burned from the smell of the cleaning fluid and her throat felt raw. Atakan appeared unaffected. She wondered if his anger and disappointment made him immune to the environment.

  “Well?”

  “Thirty seconds, two minutes, it could’ve been either. I didn’t watch the time. It was short,” she mumbled and bent to wipe the corners of her eyes with a different place of her shirttail.

  “Your tears do not move me.”

  “I’m not crying. My eyes are watering from the ammonia odor.” She straightened and cleared her throat. “Can I have a glass of water and a tissue?”

  “Later. You’ve had weeks after Santorini to mention the incident to me.”

  His impassive tone and absence of fury frightened her. She’d preferred anger. It gave her a direction, an indicator to what he was feeling. She didn’t know how to penetrate his indifference.

  As scientists they shared a predisposition to logic and her reasons for lying, considering the situation, were logical. That predisposition was her best chance at getting him to understand her motive. She needed to convey why, at the time, her decision seemed sound. A pathetic excuse and she knew it.

  “Again, the encounter wasn’t something that stuck in my head,” she reiterated. “I didn’t recall it until you showed me the picture. I panicked when you did. I felt no explanation I gave would suffice. Was my reasoning flawed? Yes.”

  Atakan was her only ally, and he looked unmoved. If he didn’t believe her, she’d wind up dumped in an Athens jail.

  “Atakan, I swear to you the airport incident is my total contact with Tischenko. I don’t know him. You have to believe me.”

  The door opened. Petalas’s aide came in and handed her a wad of tissues and set a glass of water on the table. She thanked him and he left without making eye contact or speaking. She looked up to the camera over Atakan’s right shoulder as the aide quietly shut the door.

  Charlotte blew her nose and dabbed at her watery eyes. She drank half of the water while she organized her rationalization in one last ditch effort to defend herself. She put the glass down.

  “You must see how inconsequential the exchange was. It’s obvious.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  Atakan gathered the pictures and put them back into the folder. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s open to interpretation.”

  “How?”

  “A murderer approaches you and no one else. Under the guise of helping you, a short conversation takes place. A conversation you say was trivial but just as easily was an exchange of information--”

  “What information? There was nothing to learn from me.”

  “He needed to know what boat Ekrem was on.”

  “Which I didn’t know. Ekrem said they’d meet me at the marina, period. He made all the arrangements. The point I’m trying to get across to you is, Tischenko never asked me any questions. I don’t know why he singled me out.”

  “It was no accident.”

  “What are you implying?”

  “The first time he shows up on the tapes and the only time is the day you arrived. He walked into baggage claim a few minutes before your plane landed. He didn’t speak to anyone, didn’t move, until you entered the Arrival’s Hall.”

  “So?”

  “Somehow you led him to Ekrem and he knew you would.”

  “Impossible.” The wild accusation made no sense. “Other than general pleasantries, I never communicated with him.” Frustrated and weary, she repeated the denial. “I. Don’t. Know. Him.”

  “If you never met, how did he know you’d be on that flight?”

  Charlotte ran the question through her mind, trying to think of everyone who knew her schedule. Her family of course, but they certainly had no dealings with someone like Tischenko. Her friends and fellow doctoral students were familiar with her plans. The committee members definitely knew. She’d turned in a detailed schedule to them prior to leaving.

  “If he contacted the university and spoke to one of the department secretaries, he might’ve found out. If he said he was MIAR, they’d tell him. I can’t explain how he fixed on me.”

  Atakan listened with the same hard expression he had when he showed her the pictures. The lie seriously damaged her credibility. Not admitting the encounter was the dumbest thing she’d ever done. Surveillance cameras are everywhere. She should’ve known the short exchange with Tischenko was taped.

  “Atakan, I’m begging you, please give me another chance. Please don’t write me off as a liar or worse. Please try to understand. The fact you said the brush with Tischenko is open to interpretation lends legitimacy to my fears.”

  She’d pleaded with him and his face hadn’t changed. She’d lost his trust and his friendship. Two things she’d come to appreciate. Her freedom, which she’d always appreciated, might be next.

  They sat in silence for a long moment. His gaze dropped to the file and then back to her. “I understand your trepidation regarding the Greek investigators,” he said at last. “But, you know me, and knowing me, you still lied.”

  “I was wrong. You deserved the truth from me. I can’t change what I’ve done. All I can do is tell you how sorry I am and beg your forgiveness.”

  Atakan picked up the file and went to the door. “I will return soon.”

  “Please, forgive me...please.”

  He turned and looked at her. “We’re not done yet.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Twenty minutes passed before Atakan returned, empty handed and alone again.

  “What happens now?” Charlotte asked, unable to speculate from his face.

  He remained in the open doorway and waved her out. “We’re going.”

  “I’m free?”

  “Yes, provided no additional incriminating evidence is
discovered against you.”

  She shoved the chair back and joined him ready to race up to the deck and out of Greek jurisdiction. “There won’t be, I promise you.” Grateful for her freedom, she raised her arms to hug him, but seeing him stiffen, she dropped them to her sides.

  Petalas hadn’t made another appearance, not that she had any great desire to see him. She paused as she stepped into the passageway, thinking it odd. Why would he pass up the opportunity to give her the severe warning about any other evidence?

  Less than an hour ago, she was a frog’s hair away from jail...allegedly. Now, she was suddenly free. Something wasn’t right about the way her release had gone down.

  “What really happened here, Atakan?”

  “Meaning?”

  “My arrest and release aren’t playing out the way these things normally do.”

  “Stay if you prefer. I’m leaving.” He started toward the stairs.

  “I was never under arrest was I?” Charlotte pulled him back by the arm.

  “No.”

  “Then what was this charade about?”

  “Petalas told me on the dock about the surveillance photos. We decided then to take a ruthless approach.”

  “And lied.”

  “Yes. Are you so naïve as to think your brother has never lied to someone to get to the truth?”

  He had. Both he and her father candidly admitted to the tactic for the same reason. They were unrepentant. When they spoke of it, Charlotte didn’t think them wrong. She understood deception was necessary on occasion.

  “No, I’m not that naïve.”

  “Understanding a deception doesn’t make it more palatable.”

  She shook her head no in pained agreement. It hurt that Atakan felt he had to resort to the tack with her. Like it hurt him when he learned she lied. She was sick over the damage her stupidity had caused.

  “What happens now?”

  “We go back to camp,” he said.

  “No, I mean what happens between you and me?”

  “As I said, you and I aren’t done. I’ve called Refik. We’ll use his office. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  All the way off the ship and into camp, Charlotte went over what she’d say to Atakan. The only thing left to discuss was whether he was willing to forgive her. She hoped once they were in friendlier territory she’d convince him of the sincerity of her remorse.

  Atakan rapped on Refik’s door.

  Refik stepped out. “It’s yours for as long as you need.”

  “Thank you.” Atakan followed Charlotte inside, locking the door behind them.

  “Sit.” He went around the desk and sat in Refik’s chair.

  “Atakan, I know you’re disappointed in me. I’m disappointed in myself. But, I truly---”

  “We’re not here to talk about your struggles with the truth. We’re here to discuss Aaron Waterman.”

  “Aaron?” The mention of him came out of left field. “What’s to talk about?”

  “While on the Greek ship, I received word the Swiss arrested a man in Zurich, a facilitator, if you will. He arranges the shipment of illegal artifacts for collectors.”

  “And?”

  “Due to your relationship with Sun Bear and therefore with Waterman and this project, our government had his name flagged through Interpol. The Zurich man’s phone records show several recent calls to Waterman.”

  Her heart sank hearing Aaron’s name connected to her. This was the worst day of her life. After Atakan’s tough interview about Tischenko, she never imagined things could get worse.

  “Translation-Aaron’s actively searching,” she said.

  Atakan nodded. “You willingly took Sun Bear’s money to obtain a place on this recovery team. When you accepted were you aware of Waterman’s involvement with artifact smugglers?”

  “His prior involvement, yes, but I’m not aware of any present issues. I’d like to clarify a point about the contribution—”

  “The point is you knew of his past.”

  “Yes, but my stepfather is an equal partner in Sun Bear. I didn’t then, or now, see the money as coming from Aaron, just the corporation. I thought I made that clear.”

  “The point is, whether directly or indirectly, Waterman is also funding you.”

  “I took the money. I told you why. It was a bad decision. Haven’t you ever made a bad decision?”

  “Today has shown your decision making process is in dire need of improvement. My ill choices cannot compete.”

  The ragged sputtering from one of the shuttle boat’s loud engines docking made normal conversation impossible. Charlotte glanced outside. It was the most dilapidated of the shuttles and belched a steady stream of black smoke. The nauseating odor of diesel fumes drifted into the room from the open window. First the ammonia screwed up her sinuses, now the boat fumes were making her queasy. What next?

  Atakan waited until the ferryman cut the engine before he continued. “It is not so simple as a ‘bad decision.’”

  “Atakan please let me explain.”

  “I’m not finished. In your application to work in Turkey, you claimed you’re ethically and morally opposed to artifact smuggling. Yet you profited from a man whose deals in this practice, thereby compromising your ethics.”

  “I can explain.”

  “Explain? How?” he asked leaning his arms on the desk. He sounded like a trial lawyer, more specifically a prosecutor. “In essence, you validated his actions. How do I trust your explanation when I know your morals and ethics have a price?”

  Charlotte recoiled from the harsh indictment. A short time ago, he teased and laughed with her in the lab. Where had that Atakan gone?

  “At least let me tell you the circumstances of my taking the money.”

  “Please do,” he said and sat back.

  “I was home for the holidays. My stepfather called me into his library. He handed me a small box wrapped in Christmas paper and said ‘open it.’ I did. Inside was a letter from MIAR thanking Sun Bear for their contribution. Frank said, ‘The donation was on the condition they find a place for you on the project you want. Merry Christmas.’

  “Yes, I knew the source of the money. Yes, I could’ve turned it down. In hind sight, I should’ve asked Frank for the money to begin with, but I didn’t want to. I was too proud.”

  “First you claim it was a bad decision. Now, it’s pride. Is there an end to your excuses?”

  Charlotte didn’t know how much more she could handle between the arrest, getting caught in the lie, and this new twist. Emotionally, she was fragmenting. She envied the release tears brought others. Even if she wanted to cry, she’d never resort to it. She had to maintain her composure. Nick and her father said they hated women who used tears as a defense. She doubted Atakan would view them as anything else either. He’d have the same philosophy as Nick and her dad. The more a woman cried, the more convinced they were of guilt.

  She got up and poured a glass of water from the big bottle Refik kept in his office cooler and sat down again. She took a long swallow and concentrated on the feel of the cool liquid as it slid down her throat.

  Atakan watched her closely. She wondered what was going through his mind. Were his feelings toward her restricted to his job for the Ministry? Had their personal relationship touched him enough to overcome suspicion? Would it hurt him if the government sent her home? Or, would he be the primary source for implementing that action?

  “Are you going to explain this so called pride, or do I come to my own conclusions?”

  She finished the water and set the glass on the desk.

  “Please understand; I’ve gone to the finest universities on Frank’s money. Everything was on his dime, my clothes, my car, the travel expenses for my intern assignment in Israel. I appreciate what he did for me, but I wanted to get accepted for this project on my own...on my own. I applied last summer and after months I still hadn’t heard from MIAR. I was crushed thinking I was going to get rejected.
Then, out of the blue, I was accepted because of Sun Bear. Did I have second thoughts? No. In that moment, I only saw a shot at my dream coming true.”

  He listened with the same implacable expression of the earlier interrogation.

  “And afterward, when the excitement of the moment you speak of died down, did you think beyond your gift?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t want to.”

  “You said you knew Waterman dealt with black market artifacts.”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I’m the confidential informant who turned him into the authorities. If you know about the case, then you should know who the informant was.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “Or, did you just read the parts of the report that fit with your desire to condemn the means I came into the project?”

  She regretted the nasty comment the minute the words left her lips. This wasn’t the time for defiance.

  “How poorly you regard me.”

  “On the contrary, I have enormous respect for you.”

  “Ah, so lying is your unique way of showing respect.”

  “Atakan—”

  “Returning to Waterman, when you informed did you realize how much money relinquishing the artifacts cost him?”

  “No. I didn’t care. What he did was criminal. It’s wrong.”

  “I wonder, is your strong disapproval because he’s a private collector, or does it stem more from your feelings toward him personally?”

  Her explanation hadn’t swayed Atakan. She changed tactics, appealing to the archaeologist rather than the Ministry man.

  “Both. Knowledge is meant to be shared. Artifacts are the keys to history’s doors, to knowing and understanding the past. They’re not supposed to be squirreled away in the mansions where only the privileged few, like him, can appreciate them.”

  “I applaud your passion. Tell me, what if it’s a major museum who illegally acquired a piece to exhibit publicly?”

  She nodded. She knew where he was going.