Read Online The Stolen Da Vinci Manuscripts by Joshua Elliot James - Free Book Online

he is one of the ‘watchers’.
When he reaches out I let go the case, put the phone in my pocket
and pull on his wrist as hard as I can. Caught off balance he lands
on the stainless cover between escalators and slides down, yelling
when his body bounces off each of the joints. Gate A1 – A17 is
across from me and I charge down until reaching a plane about to
board. I mingle with the passengers and make my way to the
desk.
    “I need a standby ticket.” I gasp, out of
breath.

Chapter 7: Murder In Spain
     
     
    The rep scans the computer and says that
there are plenty of seats and issues a ticket. We board and I see
no signs of followers but remember the phone.
    “Not smart.” Voice scolds. “You really don’t
like Gavin, do you?”
    “You won’t kill him – he’s the only hold you
have over me.” I disarm.
    “Don’t be so sure - he may soon outlive his
usefulness. We will find you eventually; there are only so many
places to hide.”
    “Good luck.” I challenge.
    I turn the phone off and put it back in my
pocket. A flight attendant comes down the aisle. “Excuse me.” I
ask. “Where are we flying to?”
    He looks at me like I am joking and waits for
the punchline.
    “No, I’m serious.” I remark.
    “We will be landing in Madrid in six and a
half hours miss.”
    “Madrid!” I echo; well at least I don’t need
cold weather clothes so far.
    He walks away with a quizzical
expression.
    I attach the phone to my notebook and
download its operating system – I should be able to set up a
triangulation application using my home laptop, to pinpoint from
where the incoming calls originate. I see that my programming is
successful when the phone rings again and shows that ‘Voice’ hasn’t
relocated.
    “I see you took to the skies again,
Arcadia.”
    “I see you are still at the airport.” I
respond.
    There is a gap. “Good guess.”
    “What do you want?” I ask.
    “It’s simple - the books. Let’s stop playing
games before you get hurt – there will be a welcoming group at
Madrid to take them from you.”
    “Go right ahead – I’m not heading to Madrid.”
I bluff.
    “Ah, but I think you are.” Voice disagrees.
“That was the only flight that departed from any ‘A’ gate before we
got there – we searched thoroughly.”
    “Did you search the ladies room next to gate
19?” I taunt.
    More silence. “I’ll check into that.”
    “There is no ladies room next to A19, but
good try.” Voice rejoins. “See you in Spain.”
    “Not if I see you first.” I hang up.
    I can’t keep playing hide and seek in
airports so I have to plan a different strategy, but at least this
time I won’t be blindsided. There are no clothes in my bag that
don’t demand attention so I need others. There is a woman in aisle
seat F17 who is about my dress size and wearing brown slacks and a
wool kaftan – perfect! Retrieving a new silk dress from my luggage
I fold it into a small package and get a hundred dollar bill from
my purse, which I slip under the belt.
    The woman in F17 eyes the dress
appreciatively before she knows I am going to see her.
    “Would you trade for what you’re wearing?” I
whisper in her ear, making sure that she sees the cash.
    She looks shocked; I show the ‘Vera Wang’
dress tag - she beams and nods. Nobody pays much attention as we
move to the bathroom, but those who see us enter together smile.
Those who see us emerge wearing each other’s clothes positively
gasp and look away.
    Now, a hair redo of some kind and I’m in
business. Its obvious that I cannot return these ‘items’, as
everyone is wont to call the books, to Roberto and the apparent
solution is to marry them with the others in my father’s care. So -
a trip to London is called for and the decision to be made is
whether I can slip past my ‘welcome group’ to take another flight –
which is risky given that they know I am arriving on this flight –
or rent a car and drive all the way or to a different