Read The Stolen Da Vinci Manuscripts for Free Online Page A

a hammer raised. My first instinct is to hold the
box up to deflect the blow but I realize the damage it could cause
and spin from the strike. The guy on the floor grabs my ankle and
this time I use my box to hit the hammer wielder on the temple and
stamp on the other’s wrist with a force that produces the sound of
a cracked bone and an Italian curse that I can’t interpret. One
last kick to hammer the guy’s chest and I exit through the window.
I need my hands to swing down off the balcony so I have no choice
but to drop the box to the ground and hope they did a good packing
job.
     
    I hear a shout – “Out back…” as I drop to the
patio and turn to face the onslaught of a big man, with bulging
eyeballs, who wants me for dinner. I’m not aware of the knife held
behind his back until the sunlight glints on the blade and when he
starts an arcing upward lunge and I throw myself into a backward
somersault and kick the blade out of his grip at waist height. The
knife obligingly rotates towards me, making its capture routine and
I now become the adversary, forcing the attacker to retreat but he
snatches a chair to use in defense. I hear sounds of backup from
inside and need to get out of here in a hurry. Big man is now
lunging with the chair and getting legs dangerously close to my
head – I duck under and have no choice but to cut his knee muscle
in a sweeping slash. He drops on the spot and screams. I seize the
books and run to the gate – it’s padlocked so I have to risk the
packing again and toss them over before climbing the cross members
and hopping over.
    They did a good job – the box is solidly
intact as I retrieve it and take off to Bath Street at full speed
and back to the hotel with a quick stop at the general store. I
multi – task in my room, packing my case, dying my hair back to
auburn, showering and dressing take less than twenty minutes and I
leave my room wearing a silk dress and my beloved red high heels.
No-one follows me.
    I call Roberto from the airport and without
going into absolute details, tell him that I have several of the
books and am on the trail of the remainder, but as there is no time
to meet as my plane departs soon, I will leave them with my parents
in London during the flight transfer at Heathrow. I also remind him
that he is being watched by Marconi’s mates and possibly others, so
this is the safest way. He is okay with that.
    I call my father to have him meet me and
though not given to high emotions, I sense his excitement in being
able to see da Vinci’s books. Two final calls to extend my leave of
absence from Harvard and the museum and I’m ready to board.
    The flight is a little turbulent but we land
in London safely and I meet my father en-route to gate C9 for the
final leg to Singapore.

Episode 2
THE STOLEN DA VINCI MANUSCRIPTS & MURDER IN SPAIN

Chapter 1: Singapore
     
     
    Circling the island that I visited several
years ago, I am dismayed to see hardly any vegetation remaining –
most of the land has suffered the price of success and is converted
to steel and concrete. The ‘Raffles’ Hotel does however boast a
lush courtyard of palms and exotic flowers in which the founder of
the island would find some solace. My room overlooks the Straits of
Singapore and the many marinas laden with expensive yachts, and a
pleasant breeze negates the need for air conditioning.
    Gavin won’t be as foolish to stay at this, or
any other famed hotel so I will bribe the Maitre‘d to send out
feelers in search of him. My other approach will be to search the
‘who’s in town’ newspaper sections to see whom he may contact and I
will also renew my knowledge of the art and antiquities section of
this beautiful city to see if there are any renewable acquaintances
here and put the word out that I need to contact Gavin
urgently.
    There is a special atmosphere I savor every
time I visit Singapore and this time is no exception, it is
intangible but definite. The multi conglomeration