Free The Mask of Troy by David Gibbins

this is a business arrangement. You have the paintings, we have the rest.’
    ‘What do you mean, the rest?’
    Saumerre gestured at the cabinet. ‘What do you know about Schliemann’s lost treasure?’
    Raitz stared at the pots. ‘You asked me to research it when we first made contact two weeks ago. Some of the gold from Troy went missing for years, then showed up in Moscow. That’s common knowledge. But there’s always been a question over whether Schliemann found more at Mycenae. Nothing’s ever been proven.’
    ‘We know,’ Saumerre said. ‘ We know . And that’s our cut. We want gold, antiquities, unique items that have huge cachet as collateral in arms deals, pipeline deals, multi-million-dollar enterprises that can rest on a single handshake, a single gesture of goodwill. Yet you and I have much in common. I am an educated man too, a lover of the arts. One day we should come here and talk more about these marvels.’ He swept his hand about the room. ‘We may regret that some of the great cultural treasures might never end up in museums. But some have been lost for so long, stolen so long ago and never found, that their very loss has become part of our culture. Schliemann’s treasure, for example. And look around us here. Already there are too many wonders to comprehend. And for you, my friend, it is our price. There is no compromise.’
    Raitz looked at him, and then remembered the huge step he had taken to come here, the risk, his mounting excitement. His heart was pounding. He nodded. ‘Agreed.’
    ‘We will provide you with security. They call themselves Totenköpfe , after the Nazi death’s-head units. But they are mainly Russians. Ex-military. Mercenaries. Thugs for hire.’
    ‘They will do any dirty work.’
    ‘You need have no worry. That is out of your hands.’
    ‘There will be no killing?’ Raitz asked anxiously.
    Saumerre peered at him, his eyebrows raised. ‘My friend. You forget your heritage. Your legacy. Why you are here.’ He paused, then put a hand on his arm. ‘As I said. You need have no worry.’
    ‘These Totenköpfe . They can be controlled?’
    ‘The ones you will see will be mere employees. Their leaders are united by their common allegiance to your cause. They swear to uphold the Nero Decree, Hitler’s order to destroy Germany, to have the thousand-year Reich or nothing. But this of course is fantasy. We have used them before in our business dealings in eastern Europe, and have found them more than willing to forgo ideology if the stack of gold bars is high enough. And this time it will be higher than any they have ever seen.’
    ‘And what if we don’t find it? Who do they blame?’
    ‘Business is about risks. You modify your plans. But that will not be necessary.’
    ‘Will there be anyone else?’
    ‘I believe you will be assisted by a colleague. By several colleagues.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘The place you will be going may require technical expertise. Skills that few have to the level required.’
    ‘These are your people too?’
    Saumerre looked at his watch. ‘Exactly twenty-four hours from now, you will know.’ He paused, looked round, listened, then opened his coat and withdrew the document case. ‘And now for what you want. On the twenty-ninth of April 1945, Adolf Hitler issued his final will and testament from his bunker in Berlin. We know you have often spoken of it, to sympathizers, to the secret network of friends you have developed over the years, others who share the same legacy, the same passion. That’s how we came to know of you. We were seeking just such a man.’
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘When my contact told you to meet me here, the message said that I would pass on all that you needed to realize the dream, to create the museum the Führer so craved, to fulfil his legacy.’
    ‘Yes. Yes .’ Raitz gripped Saumerre’s arm tight, his eyes blazing. ‘A secret museum in Bavaria, in the mountains he so loved. A shrine, a rallying point for