When I arrived back at the office that afternoon, Nick and Archer were eager to share information with me. I hoped it would prove to be a good lead. “Did you get anything from Argentina?” I asked Archer. I had called from the car and had given him the information on Esposar.
“Nothing about his whereabouts,” she said. “He left Argentina ten years ago and hasn’t been heard from since. The officer I spoke to said he was either in jail or dead.”
“What makes him so sure?” I asked.
“The officer said he was a mercenary who probably had his head blown off somewhere. He described him as the type of guy who liked to use guns on people. He’s wanted in Argentina and most of the other countries in South America.”
Sounds like someone you don’t want to meet. Of course, I wanted to talk with him, but maybe I was lucky he was dead already.
“How did you make out on your end?” I asked Nick.
“I got some more leads to keep us busy for a while. None of the big museums or galleries had much for me, but the Met referred me to the Warner Gallery, a small gallery on Aster Street. They have an Oceania collection and might know something about the pigeon. They didn’t, but they gave me the name of an archaeologist doing research in Fiji. It’s 7:00 a.m. tomorrow there, so I figure I’ll call him in a few hours.”