The inside was chockablock with artifacts in various stages of conservation, but the one on the center shelf stole the show. Katzen stood transfixed. From the recesses of the cabinet, a surreally calm face framed by a helmet of curls held back by a headband decorated with coiling serpents flanking a snarling Medusa's face stared out at him. He'd heard about the discovery -- anyone who followed archaeological news had. A find this spectacular made all kinds of news reports when it was discovered. It was a metal detectorist's wet dream: a nearly pristine Roman cavalry parade helmet complete with mask. Without realizing he was doing it, Katzen took a step closer.
"I love seeing you with artifacts," Hardin said, startling him out of his trance.
He glanced over to find her impish smile was back.
"I think that's the only time I ever see the real you. You're like this helmet. All I usually see is a protective mask, but when you're in the presence of ancient history, the mask rises and reveals the man beneath."
Taken aback, he struggled for a reply, but Dora made it unnecessary. "Clay says you're an old soul and the artifacts resonate with you. I believe it -- and I believe that's why you take such lovely photographs of them. Would you care to take photos of Mr. Römischbrück?"
He recovered with a wide grin. "I thought you'd never ask."
"Oh good!" She actually looked relieved. "I was hoping you'd say that." She tossed him her keys. "Fetch your equipment and we'll get started."
By the time he returned with his camera bags, a place on the workbench had been cleared and the helmet stood in the spot. Hardin bustled around adjusting lights and fabric light-diffusing panels. She looked up as he entered. "That was quick! Probably a good thing, I believe our Mr. Römischbrück has a few abandonment issues."
Josh chuckled. "Really? How so?"
"Well, first there was being so carefully hidden by whoever it was who never came back. Then the original conservator -- Dr. Johannes von Notz -- had a heart attack and left him half-finished."
"Ah! That's why they asked you to take over."
"Mmmmm hmmmm," Hardin answered, preoccupied with making sure the helmet was securely seated on the armature. "And then my usual photographer deserted me to attend to what he called 'family business' on the mainland."
Katzen looked up from his light-meter. "Ah ha! Even more becomes clear! You had an ulterior motive in offering me a place to crash."
"Maybe just a teeny one. Part of the agreement with Marlotte's is to have photographs taken all through the process. But that doesn't matter. I still hate to think of you all alone over the holidays."
"I know it's pointless to say it, but I really don't mind being alone -- holiday or not. I kind of like it from time to time."
She patted his cheek in a motherly fashion and squinted at the light-meter in his hand. "Absolutely correct. Pointless."
Now that the lighting was better, more detail was apparent than in the shadows of the safe. The Medusa's face at the center of the headband beautifully concealed the hinge that allowed the mask to swing out so the ancient horseman could fit the piece snugly on his head. The helmet was cast bronze, but the mask and Medusa's face had been coated with silver. The eyebrows, curls and Medusa's corona of snakes were once washed with gold. Remnants of the precious metals still clung to the piece like splendid ghosts. The sides and back of the headband had rings at regular intervals -- probably attachment points for colorful streamers that would have snapped in the wind as rider and horse competed in the cavalry games. All-in-all, it was a spectacular piece. Josh lost himself to framing photo after photo, only half-hearing Dora's running commentary.
"He's really almost finished. I'll have to send him home soon. I'll miss him terribly, I've grown fond of that long, elegant face. Without a doubt, the theory that these helmets were the mark of champion riders must be right. Think how magnificent. . . ."
Katzen looked up from the viewscreen as she trailed into silence. She blinked, then beamed at him, saying, "Just a minute. I have to check if I saw what I think I saw."
She disappeared into the hall and was gone a short time before returning, waving a brightly colored flier. "YES! I thought I saw this on the bulletin board. It just took a while to sink in."
With a look of absolute triumph, she thrust the paper into his hand. It was an invitation to the First Night of Hannukah Candlelighting and Pot Luck Supper presented by the Hawai'i Hillel, the campus Jewish organization. The flier was covered with incongruous snowflakes and palm trees interspersed with dreidels and menorahs and the greeting "Shaloha" at the top.
"It's tomorrow," Dora said. "A bit early, I know, but I think they want to catch more students before they head home for the break. Their parties are supposed to be quite fun!"
He stared doubtfully at the flier.
"Promise me you'll at least think about it."
"That means I'm going, doesn't it?"
She beamed and patted his cheek again. "Yes, dear, it does."
Chuckling to himself, he pocketed the folded flier and turned back to the camera. He nearly jumped when Dora exclaimed, "Well, PIFFLE!" He spun to find her staring at her watch.
"Oh, dear. I lost track of time. Clay was going to pick up some Chinese carry out, then he and the kids were going to meet us at my house. We need to close up shop and go."
She suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Of course, there's another stipulation to the job, too. I should have told you about it before I even showed you the helmet."
Katzen looked up from stowing equipment. "What's that?"
"Secrecy. No one outside of the team working on the restoration -- oh, and the captain of campus security, of course -- can know the Römischbrück Helmet is here. There have been several attempts to steal it already. The last one resulted in Dr. von Notz' heart attack -- thankfully not a fatal one, but he'll be out of commission for a while."
"Ahhhh. I get it. That's why they not only sent it out of the country, but to a conservator who hasn't worked with the auction house before, as well."
"Precisely."
"No problem." He gave her a cocky grin. "Secrecy and I are old pals."
She looked almost comically relieved. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I was just so excited . . . ." She rummaged in her purse and produced a key card. "Here, you'll need this. It's the key my teaching assistants use. It's sort of a generic pass to allow you access to the building after hours. We'll clear you with Captain Ingram of campus security in the morning."
"Wow, Mr. Katzen! Did you really find all that gold on the shipwreck? That must've been exciting!"
Another one. The fifth in the last half-hour. Josh smiled and turned toward the speaker. This one was a diminutive girl with two friends, none of whom would have looked too out of place at an anime convention.
"Yep. That was me," he said.
One of the first people he'd met upon entering the Hawai'i Hillel First Night celebration had been Tova Ostrov, one of the students who had been on the Phoenician dive. She was thrilled to see him at the event and lost no time telling everyone who would listen who he was and what happened on the Diogenes. Katzen had gone from Unknown Older Guy to Mysterious Man of Danger in zero to sixty. Flattering, but wearing on the nerves after a bit. Soon, the trio flitted away to another small group of students and another conversation giving Josh the opportunity to retreat to a quieter area by the bank of windows. He sipped his drink and stood looking out through his own insubstantial reflection at the campus lawns, but not really seeing any of it. Behind him the party was a kaleidoscope of activity. Not for the first time in his life, he felt alone in a sea of people. It was nobody's fault. Everyone he'd met had been more than welcoming. The service had been moving. The music and buffet table were great. Still, when all was said and done, what he really wanted was a quiet evening.
Wait. With a rush of self-directed amusement, he realized he was homesick. Homesick, of all things; missing the cats, missing Chicago and even missing the damned snow. Well, he had been away for a long
stretch this time. He'd barely gotten unpacked from the Piedras Rojas dig in Peru when Belderes lured him to Turkey for the Phoenician shipwreck dive. He'd been away for . . . WOW . . . the better part of a year. Suddenly the music and chatter were too much. He set his drink down and decided to go over to the lab and keep Dora company for a while. Managing to avoid being snared into conversations, he collected a plate of goodies to share from the buffet table. At the last minute, he spotted a heap of glittering bags of Hanukkah gelt. Chocolate. Chocolate always helps. He snagged a bag of coins and slipped quietly out.
He took his time walking over, strolling off the regular paths and approaching the lab building from the rear to avoid the artificial lighting and savor the warm night. The university grounds were well-kept and beautiful anyway, but the moon and the starry skies painted everything with a silver glow that hinted of enchantment lurking just beyond the palm stands. Ummmm. Make that a couple people in black clothes and balaclavas lurking just beyond the palm stands. He stopped, blinked and looked again. No luck. The lurkers didn't resolve into a couple of students making out; in fact, they were now moving toward the same building he was.
Katzen watched the pair flow up onto the loading dock, then decades of ingrained covert training kicked in, and he found himself slipping from shadow to shadow to see what they were up to. Probably nothing good. Few people out for an evening stroll in Hawai'i would wear a heavy knitted hood. They appeared to be looking at the back door -- opening the back door. He let them enter, then sighed, pulled out his card and followed.
Maybe, just maybe they weren't headed for Dora Hardin's workshop. His heart sank when they ducked into the stairwell leading to the basement. Why couldn't he ever have a peaceful vacation? Well, okay. It wasn't a vacation, but it was as close as he ever got to one. Dammit. Pulling out his cell, he dialed Dora only to have the call drop immediately into voicemail. He swore softly as he shut off his phone. The woman claimed she kept the phone for emergencies, but would never turn the damned thing on.
Peering over the rail, he pulled back quickly. The two had stopped at the base of the stairs. Well, at least he'd gotten a better look at them: a really big guy and a smaller one. They appeared to be deciding which way to go in the hall below. He needed to do something quickly, but what? Realizing he still held the plate of food, he glanced down at the encumbrance with irritation. He was going to have to ditch-- His gaze fell on the small net bag of Hanukkah gelt dangling from his finger. Yes. That would do nicely.
Depositing the plate on a bench, he tore open the bag of gelt. Grinning wickedly, he flipped one of the foil-covered chocolate disks into the stairwell, giving it enough spin to send it bouncing down the steps, glinting in the dimmed night-time lighting. It didn't make much noise, but he knew from experience, when you were in listening mode, any unidentified sights and sounds attracted as much attention as a flash-bang grenade. He moved backward, scattering more coins as he went until he reached an alcove entry for the restrooms. He dropped the bag in the middle of the hall and ducked into the alcove. The red sign of an Emergency Call Box caught his eye. Perfect. Add Campus Security to the mix, he thought, carefully removing the handset. Down the hall, a shadow moved up from the stairs. He caught his breath. That was fast. He almost wasn't ready. He left the phone dangling, a tinny voice repeatedly asked "hello, hello" as he pulled farther back into the alcove, angled so he could watch.
It was the big guy. Greeeat. Oh, well, better he should deal with the Hulk than Dora. The man approached slowly and near soundlessly, following the trail of gelt. He stopped short when he spotted the spilled bag and straightened, his body language screaming confusion.
Katzen didn't give him long to think about it. Stepping out, he landed a two-fisted hammer blow to the man's temple, making him stagger sideways. Before he could recover, Josh landed two more blows to the jaw and the back of the neck and grabbed his opponent under the arms as he toppled. Something fell from the big guy's pocket, landing with a thump on the linoleum, then rolled under a bench. The man was a good foot taller than Katzen and his dead weight nearly took him to the floor, too. After a precarious two-step, he was able to lower his unconscious dance partner without making too much noise.
Josh stood, breathing hard, pulse pounding in his ears. "Ooookay, Godzilla, let's see what you dropped."
A brief search turned up a roll of silver duct tape. Katzen gave the prone man a hard look. "So, it's like that, huh? Well, my friend," he said tearing a strip off the roll, "Sauce for the goose and all that." He'd need to move fast. The temperature-controlled safe might be state of the art, but the door to the lab and its poor excuse for a lock were pure kaka. It would take no time to get through it.
He took the steps several at a time, but found the workshop door already standing open to the hall. Dammit. He probably shouldn't have wasted time taping the big goon up. Creeping along the wall, he peeked in to see Dr. Hardin taped messily to a chair with a bag over her head. The smaller intruder stood with his back to Katzen, working on the keypad with an electronic lockpick. Josh paused in surprise. Those devices were expensive and not something found at your local Radio Shack. Slipping around, he entered the room and started toward the thief. The device gave a happy little beep as he was half-way across the room. The intruder turned to set it aside and caught sight of Josh in mid-turn. Blue-green eyes widened, then narrowed and the black-clad figure lunged aiming a kick at Katzen's mid-section.
Josh threw himself to the side, the kick grazing him, throwing him off balance. He landed hard but rolled to his feet just in time to see his opponent pull a taser out of a pocket.
"Oh, I don't think so," he muttered, then lashed out with a move like a Russian Cossack, sweeping the smaller man's feet out from under him, sending the weapon flying.
The man landed with an angry grunt, then rolled, coming to his feet beside the open door -- a door he bolted through with only a moment's hesitation. Katzen grabbed a handful of the fleeing thief's jacket and the edge of the balaclava. He jerked hard. The force spun them both. As they steadied themselves, Josh found himself nose to nose with -- her. His tug had slipped the mask back revealing a woman with short-cropped red hair tousled from the balaclava and a freckled face flushed with anger.
Taking advantage of his surprise, the thief snapped another kick at his head. Katzen only had time to register how graceful and ballet-like the pirouette was before the impact slammed him against the wall. Stars showered behind his eyes and he barely heard her fleeing footsteps over the ringing in his ears.
Dora Hardin perched on a stool, wrapped in a blanket, shaking as if she were in a deep-freeze, while campus security and Honolulu police turned her lab into a crime scene. Katzen slid a steaming mug of microwaved tea in front of her and drew up another stool. "Hey! You okay?"
Dazed, she looked up, suddenly noticed him, then the tea. She lightly touched the discoloring place along the side of his face. "Oh, Josh. You have no business doing things for me. You're the one who got hurt."
"Yeah, well, I'm not the one who's all shocky at the moment." He pointed at the mug. "Drink it, it'll do you good -- although I'm sure I didn't put enough sugar in it to suit you."
With a shaky smile, she sipped.
He regarded the now-opened safe where HPD techs were madly snapping photos of the helmet. "So much for secrecy now, I guess," he murmured. "How did the helmet get back in the safe, anyway? I thought you were working on it."
"Oh! I was!" She cradled the warm mug in both hands. "But I heard someone scraping at the lock, so I popped him right back into the safe and slammed the door. I moved him so fast I was worried I might damage him. I knew it couldn't have been you. You'd have called me if you were coming."
In spite of himself, he laughed, then winced. "Ow. That's gonna be a bugger in the morning." Still grinning, he said, "I did call. You have your cell turned off again."
"Oh." She ducked her head, face beet red. "Oh dear."
"Still, it was quick thinking. If you hadn't moved
the piece, she'd have had it into that padded case and been out of the building before anyone could have stopped her."
"I had no idea he -- I mean she -- was a woman. She never said a word. Just came in and jammed that bag over my head. I was in the chair and taped up before I could even scream."
A rise in the buzz of conversation drew his attention to the door. Captain Ingram of campus security had come in and was conferring with the HPD Officer in Charge. He caught Katzen's eye and came over. "Dr. Hardin, Mr. Katzen, I'm afraid we couldn't find hide nor hair of your red-headed thief. HPD has her boyfriend downtown now, but he's not being real friendly. Good idea using the panic phone, sir. It lit up the building on our board as soon as it went live. . . ." He gave Josh's bruised face a critical examination. "Mr. Katzen, you should have that injury checked out. I can drive you over to the hospital if you want."
"No thanks, Captain. The only thing really hurt was my dignity and I don't have much of that left, anyway." He quirked a smile and was immediately sorry.
Ingram looked dubious. "Suit yourself, but I'll be here a while longer if you change your mind." He turned to Dora, adding, "I'll put a couple of my guys in here tonight, too. She's probably long gone, but why take the chance?"
At Dora's weak nod and smile, he turned and headed back to talk with the HPD OIC.
Dora had been silent, watching the police photographers. Finally she said, "At least there's nothing in there that can be hurt by bright light." Then her face crumpled. "Oh Josh! I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm so nervous now, I'm afraid to work on him again."
"He's almost finished, remember?"
"But what if I make a mistake? What if she comes back?"
"You can do this. You're the best, most careful conservator I've ever seen and I think you'd need dynamite to shift Captain Ingram from your doorstep for a while. You can do this."