Passage Graves by Madyson Rush

Author:Madyson Rush [Rush, Madyson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Retail, Suspense, Thrillers
Amazon: B00D5UMBHM
Publisher: Mad Rush Publishing
Published: 2013-06-02T04:00:00+00:00

The concierge placed a key into the door lock and jiggled the handle. The door swung open.

David stepped inside. The tiny, asphyxiating hotel room was made even smaller by a twin mattress on the floor, a sink in the far right corner, and a toilet—or something vaguely resembling a toilet, set against the back wall. A window at the opposite end of the room had been cracked open. Salty sea air and the smell of dead fish wafted in from outside.

“Mind if I look around?” David asked.

The concierge shrugged as David examined the insect-infested sink. The toilet didn’t look much better, devoid of a seat and working plumbing. A few cockroaches swam inside the bowl.

“I can see why Ehrman didn’t stick around.” He pulled the sheet off the mattress and shook it out, dislodging more insects.

Nothing helpful.

He looked over the room, quickly running out of options. “Did Ehrman pay for the room?”

“Cash,” the concierge replied.

“Do you know who stayed here before him?”

The concierge shrugged. David glared at him, unwilling to fork out more cash.

“I don’t know,” the man answered.

David ran his hand through his hair, unsure where else to look. It didn’t make sense. Why would Ehrman come all this way to see this room and leave ten minutes later? There had to be something he was missing.

He knelt beside the mattress and looked underneath the metal frame. Spider webs lined the wall. Fly carcasses were trapped in its sticky gossamer. The mattress smelled of cigarette smoke. The cement floor was stained, but other than evidence of an underprivileged living, there was nothing remotely significant about the room.

David felt along the mattress springs.

The side of the pad was torn open. A spring protruded out from beneath the fabric. He tore back the cotton cover, revealing a network of springs.

“O chee—” the concierge stepped forward to stop him, but quieted when David pulled a book from the frame.

Die Bibel.

The title was embossed in silver on the hard leather cover.

“Didn’t know you had Gideons in Athens, did you?” he joked, opening the German language Bible. Skimming over the pages, he quickly flipped from cover to cover. The pages were stained and torn at the corners. There were no markings. No dog-eared pages. Not a single underlined verse. He snapped the book shut.

There had to be another clue. Some sort of message to Ehrman. Something that had only taken him minutes to uncover. He remembered Mrs. Ehrman saying something about numbers written on the inside of the matchbook. He opened the small box and bent the cardboard inside out. There was one number: 19.

What the hell were Ehrman, Vanderkam, and Brenton doing in Greece?

He held the Bible to his forehead and whispered the German translation for the Book of Revelation. “Die Offenbarung Des Johannes.”

The concierge bounced impatiently from foot to foot.

“What room number is this?”

The concierge looked outside the door. “Nineteen.”

David flipped open the Bible and found the New Testament, Revelations 19. His finger skimmed the chapter. There were no identifiable place names, no word plays, no significant numbers.

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