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“No. Anything of value was taken long ago.”
“What’s your impression of the carvings? I only saw a few.”
“Too early to say.”
“Did they strike you as appropriate homage to a breathing incarnation of a god?”
“What do you mean?”
“My impression from yesterday was that they’re pretty humble.”
“Mmm,” she said noncommittally. “‘Humble’ . . .”
Remi approached, trailed by Lazlo. “Sam, I know what it was.”
Maribela regarded them with confusion.
“What?” Sam asked.
“The Cuban carvings. The pyramid. With the cloud over it. In both that image, as well as the one at the new find of the same scene, there’s always a second building.”
“There is?”
“Yes. A smaller temple.”
“And?”
“Why?” Remi asked with a satisfied tone. “Why is there a smaller temple?”
Sam paused. “You’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”
Lazlo cleared his throat and took over. “Because the pyramid is an orientation point, not the actual location of the tomb.”
Maribela eyed him skeptically. “How do you know?”
Remi stepped forward. “There’s the pyramid and the cloud. But barely visible in the cloud is the same thing: the moon. The cloud obstructs most of it, but it’s there.”
“Okay . . .”
Remi shook her head. “We got it wrong. It’s the Pyramid of the Moon that’s the location. We were so fixated on Quetzalcoatl, we were looking for snakes. And the depictions are confusing. Just like the account in the manuscript.”
“Are you sure?”
She gazed into Sam’s eyes. “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. We’ve been looking in the wrong spot.”
Lazlo glanced around before speaking. “I think it’s about time that I take that trip to the earthquake site I’ve been requesting and take a hard look at the pictographs in person. With all due respect, before we continue down this road it would be nice to know that we haven’t missed anything else.”
Remi nodded. “I agree.” She turned to Antonio. “Do you think we could get access today?”
“I don’t see why not. Let me make a call and alert the team that we’re on our way. I’ll drive you myself.”
Maribela eyed the dig, hands on her hips. “I’ll stay here and supervise the workers.”
Antonio checked his watch. “All right, then. I’ll call from the
car. No point wasting any time.”
The roads to López Mateos were clogged with late-morning traffic as the big SUV rolled past the deteriorating buildings into the center of the district, now largely recovered from the earthquake. The little street with the tomb entrance was still closed to traffic, and a contingent of soldiers was standing guard. Antonio displayed his credentials and they were allowed on foot down the well-trodden path into the dig site.
