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Dan turned and looked appraisingly back at the four-story steel-and-glass
office building that fronted the River of Dreams warehouses.
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"We might not have to go so far as that just yet," he said. "Even though it
looks pretty glossy up front here, security isn't too tight. I think we might
just want to pay them a visit after hours."
"You are not talking about breaking in," Annja said.
He looked at her from under an impishly raised eyebrow. "What else?"
Chapter 14
Sir Iain Moran nodded gravely. "The notion has its merits," he said in his
rumbling baritone.
Standing by the rail before the entryway to the Manaus Opera House, Dan
smirked. Annja frowned. "We're talking about breaking and entering here."
"You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs," Dan said.
"Dan has a pretty rough-and-ready approach," the billionaire singer and
philanthropist said. Goran and Mladko stood discreetly apart from their boss
and his conversation, but close. "It's what you might expect from a hardened
activist. I do have to point out that the stakes are pretty high in this game,
Annja."
"You don't have to tell me," she said. "People have been killed."
I've killed one, she thought. She hadn't mentioned it in her own reports to
Publico, by voice or e-mail  among other things, the last thing she wanted to
do was leave an evidence trail for something like that. But she suspected Dan
had informed his boss. She hoped he'd used strong encryption.
"Ah, and isn't that an indication that we're on the right track, then?"
Annja frowned and said nothing.
"You know," Publico said, "there's even a district of the city named Zumbi dos
Palmares."
"After the legendary last leader of the Quilombo dos Palmares, I'm guessing,"
Annja said. "You think that's a clue?"
Publico shrugged his broad shoulders. "Why not?"
He was dressed in immaculate white-tie evening dress. His graying blond hair
swept down to his shoulders. The hair, the black tailcoat and stiff white
shirt combined with Publico's own physical presence to produce an almost
overwhelming effect.
To reduce the risk of falling under his spell, Annja turned away to lean on
the railing.
"He's a popular historic figure in Brazil," she said. "There are places and
things named for Almirante Cochrane all over South America, too. That doesn't
seem to indicate there's a secret conclave of unfairly pilloried
Napoleonic-era British admirals dwelling away up in the wilds of the Amazon
Basin."
Publico laughed loudly, attracting glances from the rest of the glittering
crowd drifting toward the high, white-columned entrance with its arched top.
Large banners announced an international film festival for the evening.
"A hit! A palpable hit, dear lady. Maybe I feel so strongly about this quest
of ours that I tend to see things that aren't there. Still, there's the little
fact that my poor friend Reinhard dealt with River of Dreams."
"I still don't know why you didn't see fit to share that little nugget of
information with us," Annja said. She and Dan still wore the clothes they'd
worn to the frustrating interview with Toby a couple of hours earlier. She was
feeling increasingly dowdy as the night's audience filed into the extravagant,
domed belle epoque theater. The attendees possessed not just beauty but the
ease and grace of being raised to wealth, which would forever be denied an
orphan girl such as her. Or maybe that was just her insecurities speaking.
"I didn't want to prejudice you," Publico said. "I thought it important for
you to develop leads on your own."
"What are you holding back now so you won't prejudice us?" she asked.
"She's got a good point," Dan said.
Publico nodded. "To be sure. Believe me, I hold back nothing vital, either to
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our quest or to your own survival. I will tell you that you're on the right
track  and that we need to know what can be learned from River of Dreams."
Annja clouded up. It was a totally unsatisfactory answer.
"Ahh," Publico said, his craggy face lighting. "My lovely companions arrive.
Annja, Dan  if you'll forgive me, it would be uncivilized of me to keep these
ladies waiting."
He left embraced by two beautiful women, one blond and Nordic looking, one
exotically African. Their own evening gowns put Annja in mind of the old
phrase, "a lick and a promise." It was about what they seemed to consist of.
She turned a ferocious scowl on Dan. He shrugged. Then he waggled his eyebrows
at her.
She laughed. "Come on," she said. "Let's go get something to eat. I'm
starving."
"Look," Dan said on the walk back to the hotel. "I know you're reluctant about
breaking into the River of Dreams warehouse. I won't lecture you about
bourgeois sensibilities  "
"Good."
The traffic flowed around them like a river full of luminous fish. Annja
walked along hugging herself as if chilled, although she could barely stand
the heat. The smell of exhaust, ubiquitous at the center of any modern city,
couldn't overpower the omnipresent scent of the rain forest, stronger here
than in Belém. Maybe that was why Manaus felt off somehow to Annja. She had a
sense that this was temporary, an aberration, like a vacuum fluctuation in
physics. The city, and all those within it, seemed to exist in a bubble that
could simply collapse at any minute.
Dan showed her a wolf grin as he continued. "I will point out that Publico has
reason to believe these people  the people of this lost city  are hoarding
secrets that could ease much misery and suffering on earth. Secrets that
should be shared with all humankind. Need to be shared with all humankind. Are
you with me on this?"
She frowned. Then she nodded. Face it, she said told herself, this will not be
the first time you've stretched the letter of the law out of all recognizable
shape. It won't be the last. I've killed people, for God's sake. Why balk at a
little B&E?
"I guess so." She brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead and offered
up a faint smile.
"Good woman," Dan said. "We'll make an activist out of you yet."
"Maybe."
He crooked an arm. After another moment of hesitation, she wound her own
through his.
Despite enjoying the arm-in-arm walk, she said a firm goodbye once they
reached their floor. She was a big girl. She could take care of herself.
The truth was she had no clue what had really happened last night in Belém.
Neither, she was sure, did Dan. She liked him, even respected him, though she
acknowledged he had thorns and hitches in his step.
She knew they, like the powerful currents of anger that ran not too far [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]