Mayan Gold: A Jack Riley Adventure

By Bill Craig

When Professor Santo Cortez is murdered while preparing a new Mayan exhibit at the Chicago Field Museum of Natural History, Det. Jack Riley and his Partner Det. Ken Alston begin to search for the killers. Teaming up with Riley's reporter girlfriend Moria Clark and Cortez's protoge Dr. Julie Carr, they track the killers from the mean streets of the Windy City to the jungles of the Yucatan Penninsula where they encounter the mastermind behind both the murder and the theft of priceless artifacts. A Man claiming to be the reincarnation of the ancient Mayan God Kulkulcan. Facing armed rebels and giant snake guardians as well as the wrath of an ancient God, Riley and company fight to make sure justice is served!

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 21, 2002
• ISBN: 9781462096589

Bill Craig

Bill Craig taught himself to read at age four and began writing his own stories at age six. He published his first novel at age 40 and says it only took him 34 years to become an overnight success! He has been publishing steadily ever since that first book Valley of Death and now has 27 books in print or ebook. Bill is the proud father of four children ranging in age from 38 to almost 8. He has 7 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild. Mr. Craig has worked a wide variety of jobs over the years from private security and corrections work to being a grill cook and dishwasher. He has been a news reporter, done factory work and even a stint as a railroad clerk. He currently does customer service work to support his writing addiction. His ultimate goal in life is to break the record held by pulp author and creator of The Shadow, Walter B. Gibson, for writing the most works in a single year!

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Professor Santo Cortez looked over the exhibit one last time. It had taken many months to put it together and to obtain all the proper permits from the authorities in Mexico to bring the exhibit to Chicago. But the Mayan exhibit was at last in place at the Museum of Natural History. He ran his stubby fingers through his salt and pepper hair. He glanced at his watch, knowing he still had time to drive to the dock where the party was being held to honor the exhibit. He knew that his assistant, Archeologist Julie Carr would already be on her way there. He smiled at the thought of her.

His Goddaughter was a beautiful woman in a field where one didn’t expect to find beautiful women. She had a razor-sharp mind that could be surprisingly analytical even under extreme stress. He remembered a dig he had been on with her in Belize. Her fast thinking had saved both their lives after he had inadvertently tripped a booby trap at the site of some new ruins. He knew she could hold her own at the high society gathering on the casino boat or in the classroom. Cortez considered himself very lucky to have gotten her on his staff. Several museums had approached her when she was finishing her doctorate. Fortunately the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago had snared her.

He wiped the dust of the packing materials from his palms and started down the hallway. It was late and other than the guards, he was the last person left in the museum. Even the cleaning service had left. Cortez shook his head as he walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing hollowly from the marble floor. There had been a large note of discontent from Mexico when he had been trying to make arrangements for the exhibit.

There was a growing sentiment in Mexico regarding their antiquities. So many relics and treasures had been removed from the country over the years. The black market in pre-Columbian artifacts was astounding. Recovering stolen artifacts and returning them to the country of origin was something that he and Dr. Carr both agreed on. If they recovered any stolen artifacts, they would be returned to the country they belonged too. Dr. Carr had in fact recovered a number of priceless relics and returned them. Her work in artifact recovery had earned her the respect of a number of nations and in the field of archeology itself. It had also made her a large number of enemies.

He frowned at the thought, enemies. Dr. Carr had made many of them. Cortez wondered why he had thought about that. Cortez glanced at his watch again. He would barely make the boat if he stopped by his office before leaving the museum, but he had left his invitation there. So it would be necessary. He sighed. Time was no longer his friend it seemed. And over the years, as he gotten older, it had become less so.

Cortez paused in front of his office door, digging his key ring from his pocket. He could understand his native Mexico’s desire to get back the relics that had been stolen from it over the years. But he also feared that the hard-line stance the government was taking on the issue would only increase the black market trafficking in stolen artifacts. He slipped the key in the lock and it turned noisily. Cortez pushed the door open and stepped inside. Then everything went dark as something slammed against his head.

Julie Carr brushed back a strand of red hair from her face as she looked over the mini-exhibit that had been brought aboard the Windy City Casino. Her blue eyes scanned the scene before her, taking everything in, making sure each glass-enclosed piece was exactly as she had left it. From the chipped obsidian sacrificial dagger to the solid gold breastplate of a dead Mayan king, everything was in place. The display was eye-catching all right. Each piece was placed to compliment the one’s around it. She glanced around the rapidly filling room. There were a number of uniformed security personnel belonging to the casino visible. She had also been told there would be some plain clothes Chicago police detectives aboard as well. While it gave her some comfort knowing that, she still wished that none of the exhibit had been moved from the museum itself.

Julie glanced at her watch and wondered where Professor Cortez was. He should have arrived already. She shook her head and glanced at her reflection in the glass cases. In an emerald green open-backed gown, she knew she would catch the attention of a lot of men. The silky material clung to her well-rounded body almost like a second skin. She sighed, knowing she would have been much more comfortable in a pair of khaki’s and a work shirt. Julie had always preferred more functional clothing and felt that the trappings of evening wear were lacking in function and far too pretentious. The demands of the party and the high-society crowd demanded otherwise though.

A flash of movement caught her eye and she spotted a familiar face. Julie felt herself smile. It had been a couple of years since she had seen her old college roommate, Moria Clark. She always read her friend’s stories when they appeared in the Chicago Sun. Moria had turned into a very good investigative reporter. She had even covered the death of Harlan Esterhaus, the owner of Aries Oil a few months before. Julie lifted her hand and waved to her old friend. Moria smiled in recognition and started towards her Moria Clark had spent the last twenty minutes wandering through the casino ship while she waited for her boyfriend, Detective Sergeant Jack Riley to finish going over security arrangements for the shipboard event. She had been assigned to cover the exhibit by the paper and since Jack had been assigned to provide additional security and to supervise the arrangements, they had both got to attend the gala celebration of the exhibit’s opening. That an old friend of hers was in charge of the exhibit was an added plus. Moria hadn’t seen Julie Carr for a couple of years and wanted to catch up. She knew her old roommate had made quite a name for herself in archeological circles. An article she had seen in a city magazine had referred to Julie as a female Indiana Jones. Moria spotted Julie as she stepped into the room where the exhibit was being held. When Julie noticed her and waved, Moria had started towards her.

Julie was beautiful in the emerald silk gown she was wearing. Moria was glad that Jack was tied up with the head of security. Even though she knew he loved her, Julie looked a little too good. Moria smiled to herself. Jack was strictly a one-woman man. On the other hand, since Jack’s partner Ken Alston and his wife Lori had separated, Ken might well be interested in her old friend Julie. And Ken could keep Julie from getting too interested in Jack as well.

Julie, how are you? she asked as she hugged her old friend.

I’m fine Moria, though to be honest I am getting a little worried about my Boss. Professor Cortez should have been here now. The boat’s getting ready to leave the dock, Julie replied.

Can you handle to presentation? Moria asked, already sure she knew the answer.

Of course I can. Santo worked so hard to bring the exhibit here though, I think he should have the honor of giving the presentation, Julie replied, her eyes scanning the room.

Santo? Moria asked. She noticed that Julie blushed slightly.

That’s Professor Cortez’ first name, Julie replied. Moria felt herself relax a little.

It sounds like you and the Professor are pretty close, Moria said. She watched as Julie took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering.

It’s not what you think, Moria. Professor Cortez is my Boss. He was also my mentor when I was just starting out in archeology and my Godfather as well. He taught me a lot, Julie replied.

You’re making it sound even worse, Jewels, Moria laughed calling her friend by her old college nickname.

God I am, aren’t I? No offense Moria but I get nervous around reporters. And your questions while innocent made me feel like I was being interviewed, Julie replied.

The female Indiana Jones scared by little old me? Moria said, raising her eyebrows. Julie laughed at her expression.

I hated that article. It glamorized what I do to the point where I had to head out on a dig for six months until the publicity died down, Julie said.

I know. You went to Tibet wasn’t it? Moria asked.

Yeah, and that was a very interesting experience, Julie replied.

So I gathered from reports that came out of Tibet while you were there. I understand you broke up a smuggling ring specializing in antiquities. And you also helped find an ancient city that may well have been the basis for Shangri-La, Moria stated.

Possibly, the site is still being worked, Julie replied.

So what brought you back before it was done?

It was felt that for my own safety I should leave the country. I made some pretty powerful people in the underworld angry over there. They had been raping sites for years, stealing and selling artifacts on the black market to the highest bidder. I cut into their profits by breaking up the largest smuggling ring, Julie admitted.

I have a friend I want you to meet after while. He’s my boyfriend’s partner, Moria said.

Who’s your boyfriend? Anybody I’d know? Julie asked.

A cop. He’s in charge of the security arrangements here tonight. Not only is the exhibit on board, but the crème de la crème of Chicago high-society and politics is on-board, Moria said.

Wow, Moria, that is impressive. He must really be something.

He is Julie. Jack Riley is unlike any man I have ever known in my life.

Jack Riley? Why is that name familiar? Julie asked, speaking so softly it almost seemed like she was talking to herself.

I don’t know unless you have read about him in the paper. He’s the one who cracked that serial killer case a couple of years back. In fact, that is when he and I met, Moria replied.

That’s right. I remember now. That nutcase went after you because you were covering the story. Riley was the lead detective on the case. Sounds like you got yourself quite a guy there, Moria, Julie said.

Yes, I do. And his partner, Ken Alston just recently separated from his wife. I think you and Ken would hit it off nicely. I’ll make sure I introduce you two later if your professor doesn’t show up, Moria said with a grin.

It can’t hurt, I guess, Julie replied.

Santo Cortez moaned softly as he regained consciousness. His head throbbed dully. Why was he so cold he wondered and why couldn’t he move? He turned his head slightly, wincing at the lightning bolt of pain that shot through it. He was in the Mayan exhibit. How had he gotten here from his office? He became aware that he was lying on cold stone. Fear made his heart suddenly beat faster as he realized he was tied on the sacrificial altar. The smell of incense filled his nostrils, and the muted sound of drums carried softly on the air. He recognized it as the tape that played in the Mayan exhibit room.

Cortez heard a rustling sound to his left and turned his head again, almost crying out with pain. Someone was approaching the altar, the person’s hands in the air. The rustling noise had come from the feathered cape of a Mayan priest that the person wore. A golden mask covered the figure’s face.

Madre de Dios! Cortez whispered as he caught sight of the golden dagger clenched in the man’s up-raised hands. He could now tell that the figure was indeed male. The man was also wearing the ceremonial costume of a Mayan high priest. Light glinted off the polished golden blade of the dagger. Cortez began screaming as the dagger plunged towards his chest.

Horrible pain exploded in his chest, and suddenly he felt hot wetness spreading across his skin. He stopped screaming a moment before his already glazing eyes captured the image of his still beating heart being lifted into the air.

CHAPTER 2

Jack Riley walked out of the security office to find his partner, Detective Sergeant Ken Alston waiting for him. Ken looked as uncomfortable in his Tuxedo as jack felt. Jack could feel an increase in the vibration of the engines below deck. The boat was pulling out from the dock, moving out onto Lake Michigan.

You ready for this dog and pony show? Jack asked, tugging on his jacket to smooth it out. Despite his tailor’s best efforts the cut of the jacket and the extra padding still didn’t conceal the slight bulge under his left arm where his pistol hung in its shoulder holster.

Dogs and ponies? You didn’t tell me about those, Big Dog. I thought it was just fat cat politicians and dusty Mexican relics tonight, Ken replied with a grin.

Sure, Partner, the dogs are for the society matrons even the ponies won’t do, Jack replied. They started down the short passageway together.

Everything set with their security? Ken asked.

Yeah, they are all in uniform tonight. The company wants to look good because their license is up for renewal soon. You and I are the only plain clothes security on board, Jack replied.

Ouch. Now why don’t you sound happy about that? Ken asked, picking up on something in his partner’s tone.

I have a bad feeling about this little jaunt, Jack said as they pushed through the bulkhead and out onto the lower casino deck. The noise of the slot machines dinging immediately assaulted their ears. Jack scanned the room, taking it all in. The place was packed all right.

I hate it when you get those kind of feelings, Ken growled, his voice low.

Me too, Son. Me too, Jack replied.

How do you want to work it? Ken asked sighing.

I could say since you’re the sailor you decide, but I’ll let you off the hook. You take this deck and I’ll take the next one. We’ll meet on the upper deck and check it out together, Jack said.

Ten-four, Jack, Ken replied and he moved off to make a circuit of the floor. Jack turned to his left and headed for the stairs that would take him up to the second deck.

From above Jack could hear the strains of light jazz from the band that was playing where the mini-exhibit from the museum was being held. It seemed an odd contrast to the dinging of the slot machines and the murmur of voices from the crowd. But it was also slightly relaxing. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Something was triggering his instincts and he had stayed alive in bad situations by following his gut instincts and trusting them. Jack sighed as he stepped out of the stairwell into the second deck level. It was going to be a long night.

Miles Brannigan looked at his watch as the deck beneath his feet rolled on the gentle swell of the lake. He had enjoyed becoming a crime lord. It paid almost as well as being a mercenary. Word had come by radio just moments before that the Windy City Casino had finally left the dock. He glanced at the team of men assembled on the deck. All were clad in wet suits and were checking their weapons one last time. Taking down one of the casino boats was a plan he had been working on for a couple of months. Tonight would be an extra bonus because the cream of Chicago high-society and politics were all on board. Which meant he would have plenty of hostages if anything went wrong.

He had spent a solid month observing the boat and the routine on it. His people had been aboard and diagrammed the layout and knew all of the security personnel by sight. He had a couple of men already on board as passengers, posing as high-stakes gamblers who had bought their way aboard because of the party. They would take over the engine room and bring the boat to a standstill once it was far enough out on the lake. A number of jet-skis bobbed on lines attached to the boat he was on. Some already had mannequins in position on them and could be guided by remote control. They would serve to help confuse the harbor patrol and the coast guard when it came time to leave the ship. And the boat he was on, aptly named the Marie Celeste, would be sunk. It had already been wired with explosives. Which would also add to the confusion factor.

Brannigan had also been approached by a man who wanted some of the Mayan artifacts that were being exhibited on board the casino boat. The man was willing to pay very good money for those on top of what they could loot from the boat and it’s passengers. Brannigan smiled. Things had been running very smoothly since he had come to Chicago, at least since the abortive attempts on Jack Riley and Moria Clark a few months before. But with Harlan Esterhaus dead, he no longer had a financial interest in killing either of them. Besides, since Clark had moved in with Riley, it had proved too difficult to try for either of them. One day, Brannigan knew, he would get his chance to kill the cop and the reporter. But it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Ken Alston scanned the faces of the people playing the slots. What he saw was a mixture of hope and desperation, with some just plain having fun and not caring if they won or lost. One man glanced at him and froze, then went back to playing his machine. Ken eyed the man closely, trying to place his face and failing. The man had not appeared in any mug files he had ever seen, so he moved on. He sighed softly as he moved on to the section of the deck where tables were located for Black Jack and craps.

It had been two months since he and Lori had separated. Something had happened when she left for that seminar in Boston, but he had never been exactly sure what it was. All he knew for sure was that she came back changed. She had asked him to move out, telling him she couldn’t take the strain of being a cop’s wife any longer. So he had complied, moving his possessions to the boat he had bought when he had left the Navy. The Mystic Dreamer it was called.

He had toyed with the idea of checking on her, of even making a trip to Boston to see if he could find out what had happened. But instead he had just let it drop. He still saw the kids regularly and paid support while his lawyer and hers went through the murky process of splitting things up so the divorce could be final. If she wanted to raise the kids on her own, so be it. She would have a rough way to go. Jack had been supportive when he had told him the news, offering him a place to stay, but Ken had turned him down. He had not wanted to intrude on Jack and Moria’s happiness.

Ken finished his walk through of the lower deck and headed for the stairs. The vibration of the engines through the deck a familiar sensation from his Navy days that brought him a sense of peace.

Jack worked his way through the crowd, watching carefully for pickpockets and also for people who might be attempting to use magnets to alter the turn of the machines. It amused him to see the almost mechanical way that the addicted gamblers fed the hungry slots quarter after quarter. To them the high was almost like that of a junkie getting that first rush from his injection. It was something he had never understood. Some people would beg borrow or steal just to get enough money to buy a ticket and have enough cash to start feeding the machines.

When the city had first granted the casino licenses, he had predicted correctly an increase in domestic violence as husbands and wives went after each other violently after discovering that the rent money or house payment had been lost at the tables on in the machines. The Mob hadn’t been especially happy either with the legalized gambling or the state regulations, which were strictly enforced to keep them from getting a piece of the action.

One man caught his eyes as the fellow checked his watch then fed a few more coins into the Lucky 7 slot machine. For some reason, the man looked familiar, but Jack couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t that he recognized the man’s face, more the way he moved. Jack made careful note of the man, committing him to memory, and then continued his sweep. He new the official presentation of the exhibit on the upper deck would begin soon, and that Moria was expecting him up there for it.

She had been thrilled to get the assignment. Jack suspected that had more to do with the fact that the paper had picked up the cost of her evening gown than anything else. She did, he admit, look stunning in it. Also there was the fact that an old college friend of hers had helped set up the exhibit for the Field Museum of Natural History. Jack sighed. He was not looking forward to listening to the presentation by the Field’s expert on Mayan culture. However with the growing Hispanic population in Chicago, he guessed it was important to gain some insights into the historical background of the pre-Columbian Mexican people.

It had been a few years since he had read anything about them, but he remembered a little from the adventure novels of his youth. There had been a series about an adventurer and his five aides who traveled the world righting wrongs and fighting evil-doers, financed in part by a secret cache of gold from an ancient Mayan city in the mythical country of Hidalgo. What was in those books summed up his total knowledge about Mayan culture?

Moria had done a recent article about Mexico’s growing concern with the theft or relics from the ruins of old Aztec and Mayan cities and the government’s quest to have them returned. It had surprised him to learn that the black market for pre-Columbian art and artifacts was so lucrative. Jack finished his sweep and headed for the stairs.

Ken caught sight of Jack just as he was reaching the landing for the second deck. Spot anything? he asked.

Not so far. Saw a guy that struck me as odd, but I can’t explain why. I plan on checking for him again in little while. Anything out of the ordinary below? Jack asked in reply.

Same sort of thing. Saw a guy that seemed to recognize me, and get a little nervous, but his face wasn’t one I know, Ken said as they started up the stairs to the upper deck. The strains’ of Hoagy Carmichael’s Stardust drifted down to them as they ascended the steps.

The band sounds pretty good. Too bad it’s not the Eagles or Bachman-Turner Overdrive, Ken said with a grin. He preferred Classic rock and Jack was a fan of both Jazz and country. It was the seed of a friendly argument they had carried on since they had met.

They are fair. Not as good as the old Miles Davis quartet or John Coltrane, but not bad either, Jack replied.

Well maybe to an old goat like you. To me it sounds like what I hear when I go to the dentist, Ken laughed.

Then your dentist has better taste in music than you, Pal, Jack replied with a grin as they walked onto the upper deck.

The upper deck was fairly crowded and both men immediately spotted several prominent Chicagoans. The Chief of Police was there, in a deep conversation with the Mayor. Jack shook his head at that. He had always felt politics and police work should never be mixed. In fact, he felt politics had no place in police work at all. It tended to blur the lines of justice when a politician could affect who could be arrested and who could not. But that had always been the norm for Chicago. Political corruption was a way of life in the Windy City and he would never be able to change that.

Who’s that with Moria? Ken asked touching Jack’s shoulder and pointing. Jack turned his head and saw Moria and a very eye-catching redhead in a silky emerald colored evening gown. The woman was attractive, but did little to excite him. His heart had started beating a little faster when he had spotted Moria as it always did.

I don’t know. Why don’t we go over and find out? Jack replied. Together they headed for the two women.

Moria looked up and caught sight of Jack and Ken coming towards her. Jack was grinning from ear to ear, and Ken had a look of extreme interest on his face. Moria felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile. She turned back to Julie.

Who are those two guys, Julie asked, her breath catching a little.

The strawberry blond is Jack, and the dark-haired one is Ken, the man I was telling you about, Moria replied.

Oh really? Damn girl you were telling the truth about both of them. And I can already tell by the way Jack’s face looks he’s got it bad for you, Julie whispered.

Yes he does, and it’s a mutual thing, Julie, Moria said.

Then you are a very lucky lady, Moria. You say Ken is single? Julie asked again. Moria felt herself smile and felt a touch of relief at the same time.

Yes, his divorce is pending and there doesn’t look to be much chance at reconciliation. His wife couldn’t take the stress of being married to a cop, Moria replied.

How about you, Moria? Can you deal with it? Julie asked, her eyes not leaving Ken as the two men drew closer.

Jack and I take it a day at a time, Moria replied.

CHAPTER 3

Joe Collins glanced at his watch again. It was almost time. He hit the button on the machine