Bird of the Gods

Chapter Seven

She had waved at Conrad across a crowded room of the Grand Hotel. He waved back realising he knew the face but he was unable to place it. Jetlag from the constant flying had scrambled that section of his brain which was meant to store people. She squeezed past waiters and guests and reached him before he had a chance to remember who she was.

"For a moment I thought you wouldn't show up," she said.

From her accent she was clearly a local. She wore a long black cocktail dress and her dark hair was done up in a bun. For all Conrad knew she might have had her hair flowing to her shoulders when they last met. He wished women would realise that when they change their hair style, they often end up looking completely different to any unsuspecting male.

"Just about made it. How are you?" Conrad roared above the babble.

"I'm just fine," she replied, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" She looked at him quizzically.

Conrad smiled.

"Adrijana," he said. "How could I ever forget?"

She smiled.

Conrad remembered the name in the nick of time. He had gotten to the Stopicá cave, going in as a tourist to blend in, lingering at the back of the group and keeping a sharp eye out for anything that might be his clue.

The beauty of the Bigren tubs had distracted him for a while, but the loose slab along one of the cave walls had caught his eye immediately. A good portion of his job description was looking for things that seemed out of place, and in a natural place like that, someone had definitely tampered with something. The pictograph of a bird on the slab further cemented his belief that it could have been what he was looking for.

Removal of the slab had revealed a small square-shaped hole, a perfect place to hide something, but it was empty. Dirt on the floor directly below the hole told him whoever had taken what was inside had been here recently. After pushing it back into place he had glanced around the caves in the hopes of catching any sign of who it could be. Had Amanda already hired someone else before him? No, that didn't make sense for her to do. She seemed like a methodical person, and all that would do was jeopardize the task.

It was the soft tap on his shoulder from the tour guide that had snapped him back to the present. The group was moving on, and he was being left behind. Seeing no purpose in continuing with them, Conrad had made an excuse about not feeling well, to which she had agreed, her gorgeous face neutral, but a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

He had walked over to a cafe nearby, ordered a latte and a sandwich, feeling a growing heaviness and discomfort in his stomach. If someone else was chasing the same thing and had beaten him to it, he had a good idea of what would befall him. When he had taken a bite of his sandwich, he found he could hardly swallow it and pushed his plate aside. It was only when he reached into his jacket pocket to pay when he noticed something else there. A piece of paper, one he had definitely not put there. The map Amanda had given him was safely tucked away inside the sole of his boot.

I might know who has what you are looking for.

Grand Hotel restaurant.

Friday, one o'clock. Leave the booking to me, I'm known there.

The choice of venue being one of the most exclusive restaurants in town meant Conrad had to acquire a respectable suit, and upon entering the restaurant he had observed too many waiters and plush seats for his liking. Amanda had only given him so much cash, and he did not feel like calling to explain why he needed more.