CHAPTER 5
New York City, NY
The sounds of Pavarotti breathed through the penthouse, his soulful tenor seeming to reach for the dome of the cathedral ceilings. Gideon stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Central Park, his eyes closed, embracing the emotion of the music. As the last strains of the aria died away, he opened his eyes and watched the traffic crawl through the Manhattan streets below.
He drained his wineglass and walked to the dark granite island, taking a seat at one of the high-backed leather chairs. He refilled the glass from the bottle of cabernet he’d left to breathe.
Swirling the dark liquid in his glass, he powered up the laptop in front of him. “So, Mr. Masters, let’s see what you’ve figured out.”
He pulled up the most recent documents. The title of the first one leapt off the screen at him. He quickly scanned the document.
“My, my, aren’t you a clever boy,” he murmured. His anger began to simmer as he realized how Priddle’s trust of Drew Masters could have ruined everything. If this had gotten out…
He glanced through the remainder of the files, shaking his head at how truly dangerous Priddle’s actions had been. That fool. He punched a number into his phone.
“Dr. Arthur Priddle.”
“Dr. Priddle,” Gideon drawled, his voice laced with quiet rage. “You have not been following our agreement.”
Priddle’s words stumbled over each other in a rush. “Mr. Gideon, I have. I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”
“Really? Why, then, am I sitting here reading a paper entitled ‘The Belial Stone’ written by a Dr. Drew Masters?”
“Sir,” Priddle said, his voice taking on an unpleasant whining quality, “I had to bring on some more help. There’s just so much to do with the site and with my classes. But he was sworn to secrecy. He was never supposed to talk about any of our work.”
“Well, apparently he didn’t keep up his end of the bargain, either. That, however, will no longer be a problem. It seems Dr. Masters gave into a moment of despair. He’s dead.”
“What?” Priddle screeched.
Gideon held the phone away from his ear with a look of disgust. When the squealing died down, he said, “Perhaps you should keep the stakes in mind before you make any more unwise decisions, as well as the prize.”
“Uh, yes, yes, sir. Of course. It won't happen again.”
“I’ll make sure of it. You’re leaving for the site tonight. I’ll have a car at your residence in two hours.”
“Uh, sir, I’ll need a few days to wrap things up with the University.”
Gideon’s words lashed out. “Tonight. I don’t care what you tell the University. You will be on a plane in three hours’ time. Do not forget who you are dealing with.” Gideon disconnected the call.
He didn’t worry about whether the professor would follow his orders. He knew he would. He’d tapped into two of the professor’s most motivating emotions: fear and greed.
He idly brought up the laptop’s browser and glanced at the last few sites Drew had visited. None were problematic, except, maybe…
He opened the email page and spent a few minutes hacking into the program. He glanced at the emails Drew had sent over the last day. Most were innocuous: notes to students about class, one to his mother, a few bills he’d paid online.
The last email, though, was to a Delaney McPhearson. It had an attachment. He opened it and then cursed softly. Damn it, more fires to put out.
He looked up as the door opened from the bedroom across the living room. An Asian man, dressed in a tight black t-shirt and a long leather coat, crossed the room.
“I’m heading out. Are you sure you don't want to join me?” Paul Cook raised an eyebrow as he caught Gideon’s eye. “Problem?”
“Yes. It seems, brother, we have another fire to put out. I need you to track down a woman named Delaney McPhearson.” Gideon switched to a search engine and typed in her name. “She’s a professor of criminology at the University of Syracuse. She lives just outside of the city, in a town called Dewitt.”
Paul crossed to the island and poured himself a glass of wine. Leaning against the island, he took a sip. “Okay. Any reason you can’t handle it?”
Gideon grimaced. “I have to head to D.C. to deal with the Senator. He's getting antsy.”
“Ah, and you need to play lap dog.”
Gideon glared at him.
Paul chuckled and raised his hands. “Just kidding. I know we need to keep the Senator happy. His happiness ensures our success. So, this professor, what do I do when I find her?”
Gideon’s voice was steel. “Eliminate her.”