“Kat, what are you doing?”

“Whoa!” Captain Byard entered the lobby and, seeing what looked like a standoff with Neil pulling me away from the handcuffed suspects and the Carabinieri with their hands on their guns, stepped in between us. “What’s going on here?”

“It’s Sully,” I said. “He knows where the Gold Warrior statue’s hidden.”

Sully sneered. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Oh yes, you do.” I reminded Byard of my first day on board when we stood on the Promenade Deck, and Sully approached. He explained that our delayed departure from Naples the night before was due to the late arrival of the Athena statue. “It was you who told me Neil liked to have the ship decorated with art representative of the area where we sail, and for whatever reason, the Athena statue had arrived late.”

Byard’s eyes went to the statue. “And you think the Golden Warrior’s hidden inside?”

“I’d bet on it. In fact, I can do better than that. I can prove it.” I reached for my backpack and took out the cheese knife the Chef had given me. If the statue was marble, my knife wouldn’t make a scratch. But if it was a cheap copy, made of Plaster of Paris, I’d know in seconds.

Neil took the knife from my hand. “Oh no, you don’t. If that’s real, I’m not paying for it.” Then, addressing the armed guards, he nodded to the statue. “You’re the Carabinieri. You’re responsible for protecting Italy’s antiquities. That thing look real to you?”

“That?” The guard closest to me pointed his gun at the statue. “That’s a plaster cast, probably made somewhere around Rome. You can find it anywhere. This stuff here in the boxes, it’s real. But that statue, it’s a cheap copy.”

Neil walked closer to the statue and yanked a section of the beaded curtain from the ceiling.

“You think the Golden Warrior might be hiding inside the Athena statue?”

“I’m sure of it.” I went to the wall where a fire ax was mounted, but before I could remove it, Neil put his hands on top of mine and stopped me.

“If you’re going to do this, Kat, I think Dede, Elli, and Tatiana should be here.”

I let go of the ax.

“And Marco, as well,” I said. “In fact, I think everyone on board should see what treasures were hidden in Athena’s hull and destined to be sold on the black market. And I want pictures and lots of them. I want to document everything.” I focused my camera on the giant statue.

Neil folded his arms across his chest. For a moment, I thought he would deny my request and remind me that I had crossed a line. That I knew too much about Neil and his past. His uncle’s scheme to disinherit him from the family business. The stolen diamonds Neil had used to leverage his investments. Neil Webster wasn’t one of the world’s wealthiest men but a venture capitalist, running a high-stakes investment firm, shuffling his finances to balance his books to keep his investors happy. The story I would write would expose not only a cache of stolen antiquities but also the truth about Neil.

But then he nodded.

“Captain Byard, get a couple of midshipmen to help the Carabinieri. Tell them to bring up all the boxes from below and stack them here where we can see them. And make a ship-wide announcement. I want everyone on board in the lobby, including Captain Rob, Finn, and the entire Gang of Eight, to see this.”

* * *

While waiting for the lobby to fill with more boxes from Athena’s storage lockers, I slipped the Brutus Coin from inside my camera’s battery compartment into my pocket and began to shoot pictures of those boxes that had been opened. Exposed were ancient red clay pots, once used to store wine and olive oil, elaborate stone and bronze death masks, like that I had seen in Neil’s apartment, a gift from Antonio. Gold wreaths, like Greta had worn the night of her husband’s lecture. Beaded necklaces. Several bronze shields, daggers, and small stone and bronze figures that I wondered if might once have been a child’s toy or maybe ancient idols. Enough artifacts to fill a museum.

When the lobby had filled with boxes and residents, and those handcuffed few the Carabinieri had arrested, I went back to the wall and took the ax from its mount. I felt like Geraldo Rivera, about to expose Al Capone’s Vault. Fifteen years ago, I had watched Geraldo’s live broadcast from the basement of a walled-off room beneath the Lexington Hotel in Chicago that was once owned by the famous gangster. The show had been hyped, anticipation was high, and Geraldo’s reward was disappointing. There was nothing inside the vault save for a couple of empty bottles of moonshine. Like Geraldo, I had gathered a live audience, convinced them all I knew where the Golden Warrior was hidden, and hoped I wouldn’t be as equally disappointed.

I glanced back at Dede. She stood toward the front of the group, with Elli, Irene, and Tatiana at her side. Dede gave me a thumbs up.

With the ax firmly in my hands, I stepped into the small reflecting pool beneath Athena, took a deep breath, and aimed for the shield Athena held in her left hand. The ax smashed through her arm and severed the plaster mold from her statuesque pose, revealing a hollow infrastructure that quickly caved as I hacked away at her lower skirt. It didn’t take, but a few strokes before we could all see that hidden within the folds of Athena’s skirt was a second statue wrapped tightly in muslin.

“How about you take it from here.” I handed the ax to Neil, who quickly destroyed Athena’s plaster mold while I snapped several shots for my story.

When it was apparent there was nothing more to destroy, Neil stepped from the shallow water well and invited the Carabinieri to finish the job. Slowly, they chipped away Athena’s remains until they could lift the muslin-clad statue free. Then, cutting the protective cloth away, they set the life-sized, naked warrior statue up for us all to see.

I had never seen such a statue. The strength that emanated from the bronze was more powerful than the metal itself. The warrior’s stance. His muscled torso. The craftsmanship was jaw-dropping.

Neil put his arm around my shoulder. “And that, Kat, is why I want you to tell your story. The third Riace Bronze. Until today, I never believed it really existed. Antonio used to tell me he was with the group that found the first two. He said it was the most important discovery he had ever made.”

“How did he find it?”

“He said he had been snorkeling with friends off of the coast of Riace in Southern Italy, back in the early 70s, when they thought they spotted a body. It was the left arm of one of the two Riace Warrior statues. Antonio hinted there was a third statue, but only two were found when dive teams were dispatched to recover them. The third had magically disappeared. It’s believed that twenty-five hundred years ago, the statues were transported aboard a ship that had sunk and remained submerged for thousands of years. Ironically, that may have saved them. Bronze statues were frequently melted down for their metals in factories like you saw in Aenaria.”

“And you think Antonio hid it all these years?”

“It was his security. Inspector Garnier had his cache of stolen artifacts from the Geneva Freeport. And Antonio had the third Riace Bronze. Together, they could make millions. All they needed was the right buyer.”

“And the right opportunity to get it there.” Dede bumped my shoulder and held out the palm of her hand. “I think it’s time, Kat, we gave up the coin to the Carabinieri. That is unless you were planning on keeping it as a souvenir.”

Chapter Forty-Two

“You didn’t really think I’d keep it, did you?” I reached into my pocket and handed the coin to Dede.

“No. But I’d just as soon give it the Carabinieri and be done with it.”

Dede closed her hand around the coin, turned her back to me, and strode over to one of the Carabinieri, whom I assumed had to be the ranking officer, and handed him the coin. He looked at it, then at Dede as though he couldn’t believe what he had been given, and frowned. There was a mumbled exchange. Dede shrugged, gave him one of her sweet little old lady grins, and then returned to where I stood.

“That’s it?” I asked. “You just gave him the coin?”

“Why not? I told him I’d found it in my bag and wanted to return it.”

“And he didn’t ask anything else?”

“What could he ask. He’s got a shipload of stolen goods and a group of thieves to deal with. Seems to me he has his hands full. Besides, I told him I had a lasagna in the oven, and if he wants to join us for dinner, he was welcome. Aside from that, I’m tired of all the stress and worry this Gang of Eight—”

“Nine,” I said. “Captain Rob appears to have been a part.”

“Whatever. I’m tired of their antics and thievery and want it behind me. I didn’t sign on for such. And you, Neil Webster,” Dede poked her index finger into Neil’s chest, “you need to start spending more time onboard. Irene’s going to need you, and it looks to me like we’ll have a few more empty cabins. You’ll have to get busy training someone to take Oleg’s place. Elli perhaps. The girl’s bright, and I think she’d do fine. As for that Seniors at Sea story, Kat, hopefully, you’ll write a nice travel feature about Athena’s spectacular amenities. Something that might help us find some well-to-do retired couples who might like to join us. No more of this highfalutin arrogant riff-faff, if you will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a table to set and a lasagna in the oven, and I don’t plan to let it burn. I hate when it’s crispy.”

Dede left the lobby with Elli and Tatiana. Neil, Captain Byard, and I stayed behind while the Carabinieri supervised loading boxes from the lobby floor and down the gangway to their awaiting vans on the dock. When the lobby floor had been cleared of all the boxes, and special care had been taken to rewrap the Golden Warrior statue and place it in a van all by itself, the police turned their attention back to their handcuffed charges. Antonio. Sully. Inspector Garnier. Captain Rob and Doctor Jon. All sat defiantly on the floor next to Professor Braun and Greta. I snapped a dozen more shots. Not one of them looked in my direction. Then, getting them to their feet, with their hands behind their backs and their feet bound, the police duckwalked them through the lobby, out onto the deck, and down the gangplank, where they were loaded into a special bus with barred windows and flashing white lights.

Neil picked the ax up off the floor and handed it to Byard. “I’ll need to go with them. But first, there’s one last thing I need to do. Have you seen Marco?”

“He’s with Finn.” Byard nodded to the port side exit door where the two men stood. “They’re waiting for you.”

“If you’ll excuse me. I’ve some business to take care of.” Neil started to walk away, then stopped. “Before I go…Kat, there’s something I want to say. I know I’ve been secretive about my past, but I want to thank you. I don’t know when I’ll be back on board or if you’ll still be here when I return. But I appreciate the risks you took. We might not have caught this group if it hadn’t been for you. And I know you’ll write whatever story you want about what happened here, and if you still want to interview me for a business feature, I’m all yours. I can’t think of another reporter I’d trust with what you know. So, call me when you’re ready, and we’ll talk. I’ll give you an exclusive. You deserve it.”

Neil hugged me goodbye, and I wiped a tear away as he let go. My throat was so tight I could barely say thank you.

I watched as Neil approached Finn. It was an emotional greeting and parting. Finn was crying. Neil reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and, handing it to Finn, whispered something into his ear. Then, nodding to Marco, Neil gestured to the doorway where two plain-clothed detectives were waiting.

I swallowed hard. I had covered homicides before and, at times, been surprised when I discovered the victim’s assailant. I had no idea Finn had killed Oleg. Not until Finn had confessed did I wonder that if I had known what Finn was thinking, I might have been able to say something to stop him.

“What’s going to happen to him?”