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earth did he keep it, I wonder?” Gideon was amazed. Most people, he thought, would have burned it or thrown it into the sea.
    “Mr. Xavier says that grandpappy was a Jesuit priest. Yeah, I know your next question—apparently he quit the priesthood a few years after he got this letter. Anyway, he got it from a dying confession, and the guy who died was killed by someone trying to get the letter. To me, that would have been reason number one to get rid of it, but I guess it was an honor thing. Anyway, he had a family friend, a doctor that could read Greek, so that’s who translated the letter onto the pages that are in the pouch with the scroll. Of course, the Jesuit didn’t know what it said til then, and apparently Signor Duotor told him to get out and stay out after they read it. Not long after that the priest was chased out of Lisbon, but he took the letter and a journal the dying man had tucked away. Mr. Xavier says his family never had that journal, but the book that was stolen was the Jesuit’s journal, of his trip, and his life in India, and his return to Portugal as a married businessman.”
    “Wow.” Gideon was trying to think it though from the thieves’ point of view. How could this letter possibly have any significance or value in the twenty-first century? Well, he wasn’t Catholic, so what did he know. But it seemed such an unlikely theft, especially if he was right, and the letter was the intended target.
    “Yeah, wow. And here’s the good part…” She paused for effect. “He wants us to find it.”
    “Us? As in you and me?” Gideon stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, causing an elderly man to nearly bump into him.
    “Yep. You because you are the studly ex-military security genius, and me because I have a smattering of Greek, that expensive PhD, and the preservation knowledge to take care of the artifacts when we find them. And because I can read Portuguese.”
    “What difference does it make if you can read it now? We don’t have it!”
    “Aha! That’s the even better part. When Mr. Xavier paid for that fancy new vault and security system, he also had all the documents digitally copied. Every word, crease, crack, and bit of leather. And those digital files weren’t in the vault—smart man there, anyway. They’re here. In London. He’s hoping we can read them, and maybe figure out who would take the originals, and where they’d go with them. His grandpappy was chased for this letter, and the other guy was killed… Someone’s wanted it for an awful long time.”

CHAPTER SIX
     
    London
     
    Present Day
     
    G ideon and Rei were leaning into a 30” screen, squinting at the scribbles and drawings shown there. Rei punched a key and the picture changed, but still looked much the same.
    “Jeez, this guy wrote small….” Rei mumbled as she adjusted her glasses. “It’s giving me a headache.”
    “At least you can read it. And what’s this, Latin?” He pointed to a small area of writing, boxed in by calligraphic design.
    “From what I can tell, he wrote out little prayers in Latin. This one here…” She went back to the previous page and pointed to a small rectangle in the corner. “ Deus succurro mihi. God help me. Cheerful guy, this Father Eduardo.”
    “So what have we got so far? Anything? I feel like the thieves could be in Timbuktu right now, and we’ve got nothin’.” Gideon flopped back in his chair and ran his hand through his short blonde hair.
    “Well, Greek’s not my best language, but from what I can tell, the doctor translated it right. Those pages are probably dust by now, if they’ve been taken out of that pouch or bounced around, but the vellum was really well made and seems to be holding up pretty well. So we can assume that the bad guys now know what it says, if they didn’t already. What I can’t figure out, though, is why they wanted it.”
    “Maybe we’ll read about some big discovery in the Telegraph tomorrow, and the Catholic Church will