CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Valldemossa, Mallorca
December 14
Evan closed the door to her bedroom and slid to the floor. Miguel was some sort of government agent? He was on some kind of mission? What could possibly be amiss on this Arcadian island? Miguel wasn’t Miguel at all.
While the thought chilled her, it certainly explained a lot.
A soft knock on her door had her pushing to her feet, her surprise evident when she glimpsed the man standing in the hallway.
“Mr. Nabeel?” Evan said.
“Please, call me Joseph.” He smiled.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“Forgive the late hour. Is this a bad time?” Joseph scanned the small room, his eyes coming to rest on her open computer and the paper notes scattered on her cluttered desk.
“Not at all, please.” Evan gestured to the only other seat in the room, a small tufted stool at her dressing table. Joseph sat.
“Do you remember our dinner conversation?” he asked.
“Of course. You have an interest in Moorish artifacts,” Evan replied.
“Interest may be downplaying it a bit. I’m afraid my fascination with my culture borders on obsession,” Joseph commented.
“I know a few archaeologists who suffer from the same condition,” she nodded, amused.
Joseph smiled. “Yes, I’m afraid there is no cure.” He tapped his fingers on the glass-topped dressing table. “Have you ever heard the story of The Panther's Eye?”
Evan furrowed her brow. “I don’t believe so.”
He leaned forward and interlaced his fingers between his knees. “Near the end of the Fifteenth Century, a famed Moorish King ruled in Northern Algeria. The village where I was born was the seat of his land. After defeating an invading army, the king took possession of a gem. The story goes that the gem was a massive yellow diamond.”
“The Panther's Eye,” she rightly guessed.
“Exactly.” Joseph continued, “The king planned to cut the diamond to fit a medallion and declared the talisman would bring prosperity to his people for centuries to come.”
Evan nodded, rapt.
“In 1478, the Spanish king launched Christian crusaders to the region to destroy the Moors. Knowing he could not repel the sizable and well-funded forces, the Moorish King fled, and the people of his realm scattered.”
On a deep inhale, Joseph went on. “He boarded a ship with a skeleton crew in the dark of night, attempting to flee to Turkey. Perhaps he intended to hide his treasure on Mallorca, knowing the Moors in power would help him, or, more likely, the ship was blown off course in a violent storm. Either way, the oral history and a map and letters from the king and the crew all indicate The Panther's Eye was hidden on Mallorca. The king had placed The Panther's Eye in a golden box with the medallion that would one day hold the jewel.”
Evan gasped.
Joseph turned to face her fully. “So you see, my dear, why I have come.”
“You think at some point a diamond was in the box I discovered,” she said.
“Not just a diamond,” he clarified. “The Panther's Eye is estimated to be a two hundred and eighty-carat gem. When cut, the estimated size is ninety carats. It would be the largest yellow diamond ever discovered. Its worth is inestimable.”
“Would you like to examine the box? Dr. Emberton has it in a safe in his room,” Evan offered.
“I have seen it. It is the exact box described in our lore.”
“Minus the diamond.”