The Book of Lost Things by Kevin Tumlinson

Author:Kevin Tumlinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Happy Pants Books

Chapter Seven

Habbersham Abbey, Vermont

Denzel had managed to convince the manager of the mobile phone store to let Kotler stroll in, walk straight into the back room, and hand the phone over for a very quick scan and duplication of the sim card. It took a few minutes, and Kotler had to admit he was worried about Aslan picking up on what was happening. If this phone really was being monitored and traced, Kotler's current location could give away the plan entirely.

Once the sim was copied, however, Kotler was able to get out of there in just a few seconds. Denzel had arranged for the FBI courier to stick around and take the sim to the closest Bureau offices, so the tech team could start digging into its data and history.

Kotler met with Denzel just outside of the shop, and the two of them walked for a few minutes until they came to their rental car. They were on the road to Habbersham Abby in moments.

Denzel had been carrying a small case, which contained the Atlantis Stone—a nomenclature that Denzel wasn’t too thrilled about, but which he accepted without much debate.

This was the real stone. The fake one was currently curing under a hotel blow dryer, rigged to pass hot air into the mold and over the quick-dry cement. They had moved the operation to Denzel’s room, in case Kotler got another visit from Aslan.

Kotler would paint the tarnished gold markings when he returned to the hotel. He had mixed a combination of pigments in with the clay to give the fake stones the right color and tone, along with the slight natural marbling of the stone, and he hoped that once everything was done, they would have a replica that could fool the inexpert eye that Kotler was counting on from Aslan. It would buy them time to find Gail, he hoped.

That was one third of the equation. The second third would be making a copy of the Edison Stone, without Rodham knowing it. Kotler and Denzel discussed a number of possible scenarios and distractions, but in the end they would have to improvise. All Kotler needed was a few seconds to make the mold. He had the two small crates of clay in his shoulder bag, along with a camera and some equipment he would claim was necessary to ‘examine’ the Edison stone.

“This is never going to work in a million years,” Denzel said. “And I’ll probably be fired or worse, just for helping you.”

“You say that every time we do something illegal,” Kotler said, smiling.

“Not illegal,” Denzel said quickly. “There’s no law against making a clay mold of someone’s property, as far as I can tell.”

“A gray area indeed,” Kotler nodded solemnly.

They arrived at Habbersham Abbey and were greeted immediately by Rodham’s butler. “This way, sirs,” the butler intoned, his voice resonant and stern.

They followed him away from the drive, and down a stone path which led to an outbuilding about a hundred yards from the main house. It was surrounded by ash and birch trees, with a smattering of pine here and there.

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