Penthesilea's Wish [Vol.2]

Chapter Thirty-two

As Nicasio prepared to end his phone conversation with the professor, he still had difficulties believing much of what he was now telling him, so far away on the other side of the world. He found it strange that the man had gone to such lengths to pry into what had started out so simply as a history project. It seemed Dr. Simons had become consumed with this new witch hunt for females. Any women remotely associated with Stanford, Yale, academia and the Amazons. And what frightened him most was the cryptic means he might now be employing back in California to get such deep intelligence on these individuals.

He held the phone slightly away from his head now in hopes the professor would soon end the call.

"OK, Professor. So where do we go from here?"

"Young man . . . how much deeper do you think your girlfriend will seriously be able infiltrate this?"

Nicasio didn't like the sound of the word 'infiltrate.'

"Well . . . we'll see after a few days. That's where she is now . . . staying at the professor's house on Andros."

"Fantastic."

"Yes. But I can't promise much more, Sir. Not without totally blowing our cover. Vasiliou thinks we're just tourists over here. Some random acquaintances of Theofilos."

"Will you be in touch with her tonight or tomorrow?"

"Who Daniela? She chose not to bring her phone to the island. Something about her parents she told me. But I did give her some specific instructions."

"Like?"

"Exactly who and what to be looking for."

"OK. . . But she needs to provide us with more, Nicasio. Certainly the whereabouts of those logs!"

"She's working on that Dr. Simons, trust me. And also the name of the professor in Spain. The woman who made the Spanish translations."

"So wait. . . Vasiliou had a collaborator on those diaries?"

"Yeah. So she told us. I suppose she did that for complete accuracy of the Spanish text."

"With which institution?

"She said it was the Universidad de Sevilla."

"Ah yes. I believe Harvard supports some on-going connection with them . . . through a Spanish language and literature course . . . or something. God knows how many of the women we're tracing are also linked up with Spain through Harvard and Stanford. As you can see this is becoming a nightmare for us!"

"And this Spanish professor, Sir. She is one of the scholars who also left her teaching post. According to Vasiliou. To join up with her efforts I suppose. Whatever those efforts are really about."

"Do you know that for sure?"

"So she told us."

"What is it with these women? And why would Vasiliou tell you all this?"

"I don't know, Professor. I can't figure that out myself. Maybe for Daniela's sake? Because . . . well . . . it's all ancient history to them now. Right? Besides, she's still pretty unsuspecting of us. Thinks we're just American tourists."

"I see."

"Don't worry, Professor. I'll search out the Spanish language academic tonight on the Net. It shouldn't be difficult to find her on a faculty listing. Especially if she just up and left the same year Vasiliou did."

"No need Nicasio. I've got the best leads and sources here for that. We're logging way back into the IP address records of everyone who communicated or continues to message with Vasiliou through email, Skype, Facebook or Twitter. If there's a woman who ever was in contact with this Greek professor . . . we can find her. I'm working on getting phone text logs over the years as well. The history will all be there for us in black and white."