Stone McGuire and the Lost Inca Gold

By Edward McCullough

Stone McGuire and the Lost Inca Gold is based on history. The story depicts Francisco Pizarro and the ransom of the Inca king, Atahualpa. The legend of the Inca gold hidden in the mountains of Ecuador was revived in the 1850s when a copy of Valverde’s Guide was found in the archives in the city of Latacunga, Ecuador. The Inca quipus, the knotted cord devices used by the Incas to keep records, are accurately portrayed. The “fraternity” of world leaders that meet once a year, called a think-tank by the press, is a real organization. They are not a secret society, but rather a society with secrets. The American oil exploration company in Peru and the guns-for-cocaine soldier of fortune group are based on reported history.

A treasure of Inca gold, estimated at six million pounds, has been lost in the mountains of Ecuador for nearly five hundred years. It has never been found. In 1989 a ruthless group of world leaders is methodically working to gain global economic domination. They possess an Inca quipu that may tell them where the treasure is hidden. Their plans for economic domination will be accelerated if they can find the gold. Stone McGuire is an archaeologist who has recently broken the code on how to interpret the Inca quipus. Events are set in motion to have Stone McGuire find the lost Inca gold.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward McCullough
• Release date: Aug 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476150550

Book preview

Stone McGuire and the

Lost Inca Gold

by Edward P. McCullough

Copyright 2012 by Edward P. McCullough

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN-13: 9781476150550

Electronic adaptation by Assent Publishing

Table of Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Sneak Peek - The Next Adventure

About the Author

PREFACE

Stone McGuire and the Lost Inca Gold is based on history. The story accurately depicts Francisco Pizarro and the ransom of the Inca king, Atahualpa. The legend of the Inca gold hidden in the mountains of Ecuador was revived in the 1850s when a copy of Valverde’s Guide was found in the archives in the city of Latacunga, Ecuador. The Inca quipus, the knotted cord devices used by the Incas to keep records, are accurately portrayed. The fraternity of world leaders that meet once a year, called a think-tank by the press, is a real organization. They are not a secret society, but rather a society with secrets. The American oil exploration company in Peru and the guns-for-cocaine soldier of fortune group are based on fact.

In 1989 Stone McGuire has broken the code on how to read the Inca quipus. Events are set in motion for him to find the lost Inca gold.

An Inca quipu

Chapter 1

Sunday, June 11, 1989

Stone McGuire tucked his shirt into his cargo shorts as he headed to answer the door. He had agreed earlier in the week to be interviewed by the San Juan Star newspaper about the tragic events that cost him his family in Lima, Peru so many years ago. At the time he thought it might be good therapy to talk about it, but now he wasn’t so sure. The reporter was casually late. Stone rubbed his chin as he approached the door and thought I shaved Friday didn’t I? Or maybe it was Thursday. The air conditioning was not working, so the windows were open and a gentle breeze off the ocean was stirring the air a bit. Damn, it’s hot in here he thought to himself. He glanced back at the living room as his hand reached the doorknob. The room needed a good cleaning. Heck, the whole house needed a good cleaning. There were stacks of newspapers and stuff on all the tables and on the floor. This place could use a woman’s touch. Stone had been conducting a half-hearted alcohol self-rehabilitation in his Puerto Rico home over the past few years, but he lacked the motivation to really clean himself up.

Stone opened the door to find a young man holding a legal pad and a tape recorder. The young man extended his hand and said, Hi, I’m Roger Ramirez from the Star. You must be Stone McGuire.

Come in, Roger, said Stone as he opened the door wide enough for Roger to pass. It’s another hot day in paradise. Thank God for the breeze off the ocean. Can I get you something to drink?

Water would be fine. Roger took a seat on the couch and cleared a space on the coffee table for his recorder and legal pad. They continued with some idle chitchat about the weather as Roger observed the condition of the room.

Stone was disappointed with Roger’s age. He was hoping for a more seasoned reporter to handle the story, but he guessed that the kid reflected the attitude of the Star about the story. After handing Roger a bottled water, Stone sat in a cushioned cane-back chair opposite the couch and said, So, Roger, where would you like to begin?

Roger turned on his recorder and placed the legal pad in his lap and said, First of all, I would like to thank you, Mr. McGuire, for your time this afternoon. How long have you been an archaeologist?

I received my Ph.D. in Anthropology from Vanderbilt University eighteen years ago. I have been in the business ever since.

Is that little statue on the bookshelf behind you from Peru?

No, actually that effigy came from some early work I did in Guatemala. I’m still studying it, so to speak. I have to give it back at some point.

Where did you work in Guatemala?

I was in Cancuen in central Guatemala for several seasons. It is real tough to conduct field work during the rainy season, so we only worked during the dry periods of time.

Was that your first major field work after getting your Ph.D.?

I had been on many other field projects before then, but that was my first major project after leaving Vanderbilt.

I am told that you are well known for your work as an archaeologist in certain areas of research in Peru.

I had some breakthroughs in my work related to Peru for which I eventually gathered some recognition. But as you know, it cost me dearly.

Let’s talk about what happened in Lima that led to the night you were celebrating the announcement of your breakthrough, as you called it. Tell me how this all started.

Stone was jolted by the abrupt change in direction of the conversation. A more experienced reporter would have handled this more smoothly. Stone collected his thoughts for a moment, and then began his story. In Peru my archaeological research had started in 1978 at the ancient site called Pueblo Nuevo. After six months I moved up the valley to the ceremonial center called Caral. I worked the Caral site for nearly two years. There, in a structure called the Amphitheater Pyramid, I made what would become the greatest discovery of my life. Not gold or silver or a sacred idle. It was a very well preserved complex knotted cord called a quipu. At the time I did not realize the significance of the find.

What did you do with this quipu?

After carefully notating the find and sending a tiny sample for radio carbon dating, I carefully packed the quipu away with other artifacts for further study at a later time.

Up to that point no one had been able to decipher how to read a Peruvian quipu. Each is a long cord with various strings attached that are not only knotted for numeric purposes, but also contain different fibers with various colors, which meant something to the record keeper. But the meaning of the fibers had been lost. And the ancient Peruvians, long before the Incas, spoke many different languages. Many archaeologists believed the quipus were no more than mnemonic devices to help the ancient record-keepers remember what was being recorded, such as population census, quantities of harvests or other numerical accounts.

I was always fascinated that the Hawaiians had used a similar knotted cord method for keeping records, recounted Stone as Roger took notes. But they had nearly forgotten the lost art, and only through very detailed anthropological work was MIT able to run a computer model that broke the code on the Hawaiian knotted cords. Unfortunately the same model would not work on the Peruvian quipus. And really, there are so few of them left that nobody followed up on the MIT model to try to get it to work in Peru.

Stone could see on Roger’s face that he was wondering where this story was going. Stone continued slowly not letting Roger interrupt with questions to redirect the conversation. Stone was working his way back through memories that had been long sealed away.

In the winter of 1982 I was in my study going through the various artifacts collected at Caral when I finally turned my attention to the quipu, continued Stone. It was quite large by the standards of the surviving quipus. And there was no discernable numeric story that it was reporting. I tried tinkering some with the MIT computer model, changing certain variables for numbers and sounds, concentrating on the oldest language spoken by the ancient Peruvians. After weeks of work nothing made any sense, so I put it away to clear my mind.

"Then an idea hit me in the middle of the night. What if this quipu is not trying to tell a story? What if it represents the standardization for quipus – a sort of reference quipu for the production of others?"

With that in mind, I went back to my study and pulled it out. Cord by cord, knot by knot, colored string by colored string I looked at the quipu from a new point of view. Gradually it came to me, and with the help of the MIT computer model, I was able to translate it bit by bit. Sometimes I missed something completely, and had to go back a few steps and revise the translation.

So this was the big breakthrough?

Yes, when I finally had it translated, I was astonished by the results. What I had was likely a copy of the Amauto Quipu, the Teacher’s Quipu that standardized the production and meaning of all quipus. The Rosetta Stone. All Amauto Quipus had been thought to be lost. But here it was. I needed to test the results on an existing quipu and see if my translation worked. Over the next two months I examined three quipus that the Spaniards had made the Incas translate for them just after the conquest of Peru, and the results were nearly the same. I had cracked the code!

So this would be about the time that the Peruvian government made the announcement about your find? asked Roger trying to steer the interview.

Not exactly, replied Stone. Things in archaeological circles do not move so quickly. First there was a peer review and critique of the work. But the data was solid and the skeptics slowly began to agree with my results. A formal report was then submitted to the Peruvian Antiquities Preservation Commission for their review. All of this took about a year.

When was the announcement made?

The announcement was finally made in May, 1984.

Who made the announcement?

The PAPC, or Peruvian Antiquities Preservation Commission, made the announcement at a press conference in Lima. It was a big deal at the time. Local press and television were covering the announcement. Lots of government officials and archaeologists were there trying to get their pictures in the paper or in the evening news.

Were you there for the press conference?

Yes, of course. It was a really big event in archaeological circles.

As I understand it, a celebratory dinner was held that very evening.

Stone did not respond for a long time. Wave after wave of memories flooded over him. He looked Roger straight in the eyes, and this kept him still. Quietly Stone spoke as he organized his thoughts. Yes, that evening the PAPC organized a formal dinner with dignitaries and colleagues at a fancy seaside restaurant located at the end of a pier. Security was good because the location was not far from the slums of Lima. My wife, my eight year-old son and my five year-old daughter had flown down to Lima to be with me at the press conference. They were invited to the dinner too. Stone paused as he thought of his family.

Then he continued, The wine was flowing and the seafood was fresh and delicious. Toasts were made before, during and after each course. I gave a little speech and thanked everyone for coming to the dinner. The more the liquor was poured, the louder became the conversations in the room. But I didn’t care about that. I had reached professional acclaim, and the future looked very bright. I was a rising star in the professional archaeological community, and I felt that from that point forward what I would say or write would carry weight and make a difference in my profession. Needless to say, I was a very happy man at this time. Professional acclaim in front of my family and colleagues and the dignitaries who wanted to say they knew me.

Again Stone paused feeling a tight knot in his stomach. He spoke slowly when he resumed. When brandies were being prepared after dinner I excused myself to quickly go out and get an after-dinner cigar from the glove box of my rental car. That is about the last thing I remember clearly. I had reached the car when the explosion occurred.

What happened? asked Roger gently, seeing the pained expression on Stone’s face.

I’m not sure. I was thrown to the ground from the concussion of the explosion and hit my head. The last thing I remember was that it was suddenly blinding bright for a moment, and then the sound of the explosion, followed by the shrapnel of wood, glass, metal and body parts.

As I understand it, you were the only survivor from the dinner.

Yes, replied Stone as his voice quivered. Not a single person in the restaurant survived. In a flash I lost my wife, my son, and my daughter. And I lost friends and colleagues. Everything died that night, including my purpose, direction and will. My life has been a mess ever since. Stone was fighting to maintain some semblance of composure.

It seems ironic that smoking actually saved your life.

I guess you’re right. That may be a first in history.

The newspaper accounts in Lima said that a high speed boat filled with explosives zipped under the pier and detonated. Who do you think did it? Was it a terrorist group like the Shining Path or the Tupac Amaru?

I really have no idea, said Stone. The authorities never uncovered a clue as to who initiated the attack. I cannot think of any reasons why someone would want to do this to me. There were a lot of people there, all of them potential targets, I guess.

Given that you were the only survivor, did the investigators ever consider you a suspect?

I think for a short while the police were wondering why I had survived, and being a foreigner I was treated with less than kid gloves. Maybe I was a suspect for a while.

What have you learned since then about the explosion?

Nothing. There have been no solid leads. No suspects. No motive. I think the investigation was cold in a week. Someone just took my family away from me. I can’t imagine that I was the target, but it doesn’t matter. My family is gone. There wasn’t even anything of them to bury.

With sympathetic eyes Roger watched Stone fight back the tears. Stone had dredged up all these memories that he had tried to forget and could not. He was getting a headache, and did not want to talk about this any more. Roger had the good sense to recognize that the interview was over and began to gather up his notes.

Politely showing Roger to the door, Stone promised that he would be available to help with any questions that Roger had as he wrote up the story. Roger had the tact not to call.

The following Sunday the Star printed a surprisingly well-written article on the front page of the Local News section. The article was picked up by AP and UPI, and quickly ‘went viral’, as they say. The article became a national and international story.

That’s when Corie first tried to contact Stone. They had lost touch. She had read the story, and was determined to find him. Eventually she did find him, and she gave Stone the motivation needed to straighten up his life.

Corie did not ask. She just moved her business office into the den of Stone’s house so she could keep an eye on him during the day. Stone was grateful to have someone who cared. He needed to get his life back together, and she had a way to make the room stop spinning.

Chapter 2

San Juan, Puerto Rico. October 4, 1989.

Stone knew he was expecting a visitor that morning, but he had lost track of time. He was concentrating extra hard on a document that was taking him away from his normal work. A distant relative in Ecuador had sent Stone a large genealogy chart that went back more than twenty generations, and he was following his mother’s ancestors back in time. The palm trees outside his house were rustling in the wind. It was hurricane season, but so far no severe weather had hit. He had a way to ignore outside noise, helped some by his loss of hearing after the explosion in Lima.

Corie must have called up the stairway to Stone’s office a time or two, but could not break his concentration. The use of his first and last names seemed to do the trick. He finally heard her when she called, Stone McGuire! You have company.

Thanks, Corie, he replied glancing at his watch. Send Russell on up.

Russell Davis was an old fraternity brother from Pike County, Kentucky. He had been a Kentucky State trooper for more than twenty years and was now the senior investigator for the State Police. Stone had not seen him since college. Russell was one of those guys who from the beginning was destined to either be an attorney or a policeman. Russell had called out of the blue a few days before and said that he needed to show Stone something he found while working on an investigation. He was using his official voice over the phone, and Stone could tell he did not want him asking a lot of questions during the call.

When he walked into the office Stone noticed that Russell was a lot heavier and his hair was a lot thinner than he remembered. He was wearing snakeskin cowboy boots with khakis and a sport coat, and he still had that country-boy smile. Hey Stoney, he said as he extended his hand with that big smile. How ya holdin up, my man?

Pretty fair, all things considered, Stone replied. You look like you have prospered over the years.

Yeah, I’m doin alright, Russell said patting his stomach. "But apparently not as well as you. Great house in the islands. And