“It’s very rare. And quite expensive. You like?”
“It’s delicious.”
“To friendship.” Neil clicked his glass to mine, then to Antonio’s. “I asked Antonio to join us for dinner tonight. He’s on his way to Sorrento, and I suggested he come with us. He’ll be staying on board for a couple of days. We’ll drop him on our way up the coast.”
I wandered deeper into the great room, stopped at the long buffet, and traced the edge of the table with my finger. On top were several ancient-looking face masks, one stone, the other, a death mask made of gold, and several urns of various sizes.
Antonio followed me to the buffet and picked up one of the urns. “Neil tells me this is your first cruise. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much,” I said. “I suppose you’ve sailed these waters many times.”
“A few. It’s one of my favorite parts of the world. Neil and I’ve enjoyed quite a few dives in the area.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t bore her with ancient history, Antonio.” Neil took the urn from him and placed it back on the buffet. “I doubt she’s interested.”
“No, really. I’d like to know. How did the two of you meet?”
Neil answered. “Alright, but this isn’t for public knowledge. It’s off the record. But, if you must know, Antonio and I met years ago in Israel. I was going through a difficult time. I had some personal setbacks and had gone on a pilgrimage. I suppose you might say I was looking for answers.” I hadn’t thought of Neil as a particularly religious man. Still, if by personal setbacks, Neil was referring to his uncle’s move to disinherit Neil from the family trust, it lined up with what Elli had shared with me about her cousin’s financial situation. “When I was there, I met Antonio. If ever there was a Renaissance man, I believe he’s it.”
“Neil’s very generous.” Antonio walked deeper into the room, twisting the stem of his wine glass as he spoke. “I’m hardly a Renaissance man. I’m an archaeologist by trade. In the late 60s, I was just getting started and worked with a group of researchers looking for the lost city of Atlit Yam. Have you ever heard of it?”
I shook my head.
“It’s a Neolithic village off the Levantine coast, in the Eastern Med.
“And did you find it?”
“We did. Although the world wouldn’t be aware of it for another fifteen years. Atlit Yam was submerged 25 to 30 feet below the sea. The remains of a once vibrant city. It had been there for maybe 8 or 9 thousand years.” Antonio picked up one of the face masks, held it against his face, then handed it to me. It was heavy and rough. The facial features were primitive.
“Is this from there?” I held the mask against my face.
“It was.”
I picked up the second mask, a thin piece of gold metal placed over an oval-shaped stone. “And this one? Is it from Atlit Yam as well?”
“No,” Antonio shook his head. “That’s a piece I picked up in Turkey. I gave it to Neil as a gift. It’s a death mask. Similar to the Mask of Agamemnon, found in Mycenae in 1876 by Heinrich Schliemann, a German archaeologist. The real mask, sometimes known as the Mona Lisa of prehistory, is now on display in the Pushkin Museum in Moscow.”
“Moscow? How did that happen?”
“Schliemann got greedy. He smuggled much of what he found out of Turkey and into Germany, where it disappeared after World War 2 and ended up in the hands of the Russians.”
“Enough ancient talk.” Neil waved us away from the buffet. “I invited you here to gloat over my culinary skills, not my collection of ancient art. If you want to see my piece de resistance, it’s in the kitchen. Follow me.”
Neil led the way to the kitchen. A large marble center island had been set up with three placemats, enough silverware, and wine goblets for an eight-course meal. In the center of the bar was a long, slim, white dish ornately displayed with olives, cheese, nuts, and prosciutto, enough that by itself could have easily been a meal. Neil filled two of the empty glasses on the table with red wine, then handed one of them to Antonio and the other to me while he sauteed a filet of fresh sea bass with lemon grass and ginger.
I don’t remember how many glasses of wine we had or how often Neil refreshed my glass, but when Neil plated our dinner, and we sat down, the conversation flowed as easily as the wine.
When we finished our meal, Neil tempted us with a chocolate souffle he had prepared throughout our dinner. As he stood up from the table and cleared the dishes, there was a long, loud blast from the ship’s horn.
Neil immediately went outside to the deck, and we followed. The blast continued. Three long, continuous blasts. A red flare had been launched into the dark sky from the sun deck above us.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Someone’s overboard.” Neil went back inside and picked up the cabin phone. From the shocked look on his face, I knew the news wasn’t good.
Chapter Sixteen
Antonio and I leaned over the railing, our eyes searching for some sign of a body below. From the sun deck above, a spotlight aimed into the inky black water swirling beneath Athena’s white hull.
Antonio was the first to spot the body. “Look. There beneath the tender ladder.”
I strained to see the ladder flapping against the side of the ship, then spotted the body, lifeless in the water, floating face down. Neil came running to join us.
“Do you know who it is?” I looked anxiously at Neil and then back at the water.
“No.” Neil put his arm around my shoulder, and we watched as a crew member wearing a life vest climbed out from the open hatch beneath us, threw a life preserver into the water, and then jumped in.
Moments later, a second crewman appeared at the top of the ladder and tossed a rope to his crewmate in the water. The first crewmember grabbed the rope, swam to the body, looped it around the man’s chest, and then signaled to the crewmember to pull. Slowly, the body was dragged limp from the water.
“It’s Oleg!” Neil put his hand to his mouth.
“Who?” Antonio did a quick head click to Neil.
“The Russian.” Neil’s eyes snapped to Antonio like he should know who Oleg was, then back to me. “Kat, we should go back inside. Come.”
I followed Neil into the cabin while Antonio, ahead of us both, went directly to the bar and poured himself a drink.
