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Waiting in her in-box were a half dozen answers, most of which simply opened doors to further questions and more what-ifs.
“Still nothing from Evelyn, though,” Remi said now, thumbing through her iPhone’s e-mail.
Sam said, “Remind me: Evelyn . . . ??
?
“Evelyn Torres. At Berkeley. She was the assistant curator at the Delphi Archaeological Museum until about six months ago. Nobody knows Delphi better than she does.”
“Right. She’ll get back to us, I’m sure.” Sam snapped a few pictures of the scenery then turned back around to find Remi staring at her iPhone. Her brow was furrowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I was worrying about Kholkov showing up again and had a thought: How many times has he popped up so far?”
Sam thought for a moment. “Not counting the Pocomoke . . . there was Rum Cay, Château d’If, and Elba. Three times.”
“Not in the Ukraine, not in Monaco, and not here, right?”
“Knock wood.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I can’t be sure, but if memory serves there are three things Ukraine, Monaco, and here have in common.”
“Go on.”
“I never used my iPhone in any of those places; we had the Iridium. I never even powered it up, and only did that here last night—no, that’s not right. I checked e-mail when we landed in Salzburg.”
“You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure. Could they have bugged it?”
“Technically it’s doable, but when could they have done it? It’s never been out of your sight, has it?”
“Once. I left it at the B&B when we went to raise the Molch.”
“Damn. The other times—Rum Cay, Château d’If, and Elba—did you just power it up, or did you connect to the Internet?” The iPhone could connect to the Internet in two ways, either through its built-in Edge network or via local wireless networks.
“Both.”
“Kholkov could have installed a transponder. Every time you powered up or connected to the Internet the transponder tapped the iPhone’s GPS and sent a ping back to Kholkov saying ‘here.’ ”
Remi exhaled heavily, her mouth set. “Do you think they’re—” She started to turn around but Sam stopped her: “We’ll look when we’re getting off. When was the last time you powered up? The hotel?”
“Right.”
“I didn’t notice anyone following us this morning.”
“Me neither, but with these crowds it’s hard to be sure.”
“Unfortunately, Schönau’s not that big. With a half dozen men they could have simply spotted us from a distance and watched us board the boat.”
“What do we do?”
“First things first, we drag the riddles and the research to the burn folder,” he replied, already doing so on his own. “Can’t risk Kholkov getting his hands on it.” As he had with most of their personal and household gadgets, Sam had tweaked their iPhones, adding a number of applications, including a quick-erase folder. Trying to open the folder without a password would instantly delete its contents. Once Remi had her data moved, Sam said, “Now we hope for a miracle.”
“Which is?”
