Payne cursed his stupidity. Until that moment, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Ulster and Hamilton might know each other, even though the connection should have been obvious. Because of the size and scope of the Archives, Ulster was considered royalty in the academic community, a man who could launch a career with a phone call or a letter of recommendation. And since Hamilton was considered one of the preeminent Mayan scholars in the world, it made sense that their paths would have crossed at some point.
Payne quickly apologized. ‘Petr, I am so sorry. It never dawned on me that you might be friends. Are you two close?’
Ulster shook his head. ‘Not socially, but we chatted from time to time about his research. He had some fascinating theories about Mesoamerican cultures, particularly the shared terminology of the Maya and the Aztecs. Truly groundbreaking concepts.’
‘Is that so?’ Payne asked as he considered the information. ‘How groundbreaking are we talking?’
‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘I mean, would this be the kind of research that certain groups would want to stop?’
‘Stop? Why would someone want to stop his research?’
Payne shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe political reasons.’
‘Political? Good heavens, no! The Maya and the Aztecs were once warring nations, but their descendants have long since assimilated into Mexican culture. Now they stand in unison under the flag of Mexico. His research would not be controversial. Not at all!’
‘Sorry, I’m just brainstorming here. Trying to figure out why someone would abduct Hamilton. As you know, I’m slightly out of my element when it comes to history.’
Ulster took a deep breath. ‘Yes, of course, how silly of me. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I guess I’m a tad unnerved by your news. Was there any sign of violence?’
‘No, nothing like that.’
Payne took a few minutes to fill Ulster in on the basics, everything from Maria’s initial invitation to the translation of the Mercado document. Out of everything discussed, the thing that bothered Ulster the most was the cargo in the Hummer. He simply couldn’t understand why Hamilton would have a crate filled with weapons and a trunk full of relics.
Ulster said, ‘That’s not the Terrence I know. He was always the cautious sort when it came to protecting his discoveries. He definitely wasn’t the type to put explosives and artefacts in the same space. That’s just asking for trouble.’
‘Unless, of course, he’d already found trouble and had no other choice but to protect himself. I mean, his captors must have been desperate. They grabbed him at a luxury hotel in the middle of the afternoon.’
Ulster grimaced. ‘That doesn’t sound like Terrence, either.’
‘What doesn’t?’
‘A luxury hotel. He’s more of a tent kind of fellow.’
‘Hamilton wasn’t staying there. Maria was. He got her a nice suite for the weekend. I think he used it to entice her to make the trip. That and a healthy stipend.’
Ulster leaned forward in his chair. ‘Now that definitely doesn’t sound like Terrence. I wonder what he’s got himself involved in?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I don’t want to speak ill of the dead – um, I mean missing – but when I said he was ‘a tent kind of fellow’, that’s a polite way of saying he was thrifty. No, not thrifty. That would imply that he had wealth and chose not to spend it. Hmm, how should I put this?’
‘Bluntly.’
‘Yes, of course. No sense in holding back now. I think the most accurate term to describe Terrence would be “destitute”.’
‘Broke? He was broke? Why do you think that?’
‘Why? Because it’s common knowledge in the academic community. Terrence was something of a control freak when it came to his research. He hated external input – especially the kind that came from big-money donors who knew nothing about his field – so he tended to fund his expeditions out of his own pocket. That meant sleeping in a tent instead of an air-conditioned camper, using unpaid interns instead of a highly trained staff and eating beans by the campfire instead of a feast prepared by a personal chef.’
‘In other words, he was the opposite of you.’
Ulster laughed. ‘Exactly!’
Payne paused in thought. ‘But still respected?’
‘Definitely! In fact, some scholars respected him even more because of his suffering. It takes a certain type of courage to turn down corporate money and academic funding to work for oneself. In many ways, I bet it was liberating. To make your own choices, to control your own destiny. Most people can’t do that because of familial responsibilities. Between children and spouses, food and rent, there’s no money left over for research. In today’s economy, most tenured professors have to forego sabbaticals because they don’t have the funds to follow through with their research. What used to be a full year at half pay is now a half year at even less. It’s sad, really. The best academic minds in the world are languishing on campuses because they can’t afford to explore the world. How do we expect to learn new things about the past if our greatest scholars are tethered to their classrooms?’
Payne answered, ‘By breaking the rules.’
‘Actually, my boy, that was a rhetorical question.’
‘Maybe so, but I stand by my response. When people get desperate, they tend to do things that are out of character, whether it’s stealing food when they’re hungry or buying guns when they’re scared. I might not know much about history, but I know a lot about people. And since our arrival in Mexico, everything that I’ve learned about this case – Maria’s last-minute invitation, the break-in at her suite, even the crate of weapons – reeks of desperation.’
‘And how does that apply to Terrence?’
Payne shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe he got desperate and borrowed money from the wrong people to finance his dig? And when he didn’t pay them back, maybe they came looking for him?’
‘Good heavens! That’s doesn’t sound promising at all.’
‘Relax, it’s just a theory. Then again, it would explain just about everything, including the Hail Mary to Maria.’
‘Hail Mary to Maria? I’m afraid you just lost me.’
Payne smiled. It was rare to find a topic that confused Ulster. ‘That’s an American football term. A losing team calls that play in the last seconds of a game. The quarterback throws the ball as far as he can and hopes that one of his teammates catches it. It’s called a Hail Mary because it’s nothing more than a prayer.’
Ulster laughed. ‘A Hail Mary! Such an ironic term for a barbarous game. I’ll have to remember that.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Now how does that apply to Maria?’
Payne sensed that Ulster didn’t quite understand the term, so he decided to spell it out for him. ‘For the sake of discussion, let’s say that Hamilton borrowed fifty thousand dollars to finance his dig, and repayment was due this weekend. Let’s also pretend that he borrowed this money from the wrong type of person: a loan shark or a criminal of some kind.’
‘OK, I’m with you so far.’
‘According to Hamilton, he was really close to a major discovery, but he realized time was running out, and his investor wasn’t the type of person he could disappoint.’
‘Terrence was scared for his life.’
Payne nodded. ‘So what does he do? He calls a Hail Mary – or in this case, a Hail Maria – in a last-ditch attempt to make his discovery before time runs out.’
Ulster sighed. ‘I’m afraid you lost me again on the last part.’
‘Which part of the last part?’
‘Don’t get me wrong: I understand your analogy. It’s clever and apropos. Hamilton is desperate, so he makes a desperate call before time runs out. The part that confuses me is Maria. Of all the historians in the world, why would he call her? And that’s not a criticism of her. She’s a talented researcher in her particular field, but I don’t understand how she fits. If this was about Christ, Maria makes sense. But if this is about the Maya, he could have done a lot better.’
Payne lowered his voice. ‘Just so you know, Maria is in total agreement. She can’t figure out why she was chosen for this job. According to her, Hamilton assured her that the project was right up her alley, but she’s in over her head and she knows it.’
Ulster groaned. ‘She must feel horrible.’
‘She does. And she’s taking it out on me.’
‘A big tough guy like you – I think you can handle it.’
‘I could, but DJ won’t let me shoot her.’
Ulster smiled. ‘A hundred years ago, that would have been perfectly legal in Mexico. Nowadays, I’m fairly certain it’s frowned upon.’
‘Yeah. That’s what DJ said, too.’
Ulster laughed loudly. Even though he loved his work at the Archives, he missed spending time in the field. Over the past few years, the most thrilling moments in his life had occurred with Payne and Jones by his side. Or, more accurately, with him at their side. Actually, that wasn’t correct, either. Most of the time, he was cowering behind a tree or running in the opposite direction while they fought their way to safety. The truth was, when the three of them got together, Payne and Jones called the shots – and fired them, too.
Ulster cleared his throat. ‘I know you haven’t asked, so if I’m overstepping the mark, please let me know, but I’m more than willing to fly to Mexico to assist your efforts.’
‘Jeez, I don’t know,’ teased Payne, who’d been hoping for the offer all along.
Unaware of this, Ulster pleaded his case. ‘Between the Maya and Maria, it sounds like you have your hands full. Not to mention my dear friend, Terrence. I would like to be there for him. You know, as a friendly face in a trying time.’
He sighed for effect. ‘Fine, I’ll let you come, but on one condition …’
‘Anything. Just name it!’
‘If I happen to shoot Maria, you have to help me bury the body.’
Ulster laughed at the joke. ‘No worries, my boy. I’ve done a lot of digging over the years. I have the perfect shovel.’