The Stolen Chalicel Read online

  CNN VETERAN KITTY PILGRIM returns with her second novel featuring the beautiful young oceanographer Cordelia Stapleton and the dashing, urbane archaeologist John Sinclair.

  Set in the international art world, The Stolen Chalice takes readers across the globe. Bombings, kidnappings, and Sinclair’s old love conspire against the couple as they search for valuable Egyptian art.

  The black-tie gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art promises to be a star-studded evening. Cordelia Stapleton and John Sinclair have flown in from Alexandria, Egypt, to help celebrate ancient Greek, Roman, and Egyptian culture with New York’s elite. The influential crowd of artists, collectors, scientists, and New York society dine and dance at the museum’s historic Temple of Dendur, unaware that terrorists are planning to attack. Fortunately, museum security and police stop the terrorists, but the evening is a disaster.

  The next morning, Cordelia and Sinclair learn that an art theft ring struck New York while they were at the museum. All over the city, pieces of Egyptian art have been stolen. Ted VerPlanck—a pillar of New York society whom Cordelia met the night before—discovers that his penthouse apartment was robbed and the legendary Sardonyx Cup, an ancient Egyptian chalice, is missing. Ted asks John Sinclair to help him recover his precious artifact.

  Despite Cordelia’s objections, Sinclair calls on his old flame the Egyptologist Dr. Holly Graham to help find the chalice. They discover the stolen art is being sold on the black market to fund an international terrorist group. The group’s leader, a sinister Egyptian anarchist, and his aristocratic British partner, Lady Xandra Sommerset, are planning a biological-weapon attack to topple the major governments of the world.

  Aided by British and American security forces, Sinclair sets out to find the missing art, which holds clues to where and when the attack will take place. Pieces of stolen art are scattered around the world. The action moves from a sprawling ranch in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, to a castle on Scotland’s rugged coastline, a beautiful two-hundred-foot yacht in the Mediterranean, the mysterious canals of Venice, the premier beach resort of Sharm el-Sheikh, and ultimately Cairo. Romance sizzles as Sinclair, Cordelia, and Holly Graham are caught in a love triangle, distracted by their emotions, and unknowingly moving closer to mortal danger.

  Superstition and science meet head-on. And one question remains unanswered—does the Sardonyx Cup have special powers?

  ADVANCE PRAISE FOR THE STOLEN CHALICE

  “The perfect summer read—a roller-coaster ride of suspense, adventure, action, and glamour, speeding the reader to the most romantic spots in the world, full of fascinating facts, ingenious plots, and satisfying conclusions.” —NANCY THAYER, AUTHOR OF SUMMER BREEZE

  “A riveting novel of love, adventure, and international intrigue—deftly plotted.”

  —DAWN TRIPP, AUTHOR OF GAME OF SECRETS

  PRAISE FOR THE EXPLORER’S CODE

  “Masterful . . . sure to appeal to fans of iris Johansen and Sandra Brown.”

  —BOOKLIST

  “Fast-paced with roller-coaster ups and downs.”

  —NANCY GRACE, HEADLINE NEWS ANCHOR

  “A rollicking good read . . . Guaranteed to leave you chilled, breathless, and demanding a sequel!”

  —MARTIN SAVIDGE, CNN INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENT

  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXYbjlJGFrk

  CLICK FOR AN EXCLUSIVE BEHIND-THE-BOOK VIDEO

  AWARD-WINNING CNN CORRESPONDENT AND ANCHOR KITTY PILGRIM traveled to the farthest reaches of the world on assignment. Now, after twenty-four years as a broadcast journalist, Kitty has taken on an exciting new assignment, writing novels. Pilgrim is active in international affairs as a member of the Council on Foreign Relations and is a full member of the historic Explorers Club, which is dedicated to field research and exploration. She lives in New York City and in Rhinecliff, New York.

  Visit her website, www.kittypilgrim.com.

  MEET THE AUTHORS, WATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT

  SimonandSchuster.com

  • THE SOURCE FOR READING GROUPS •

  JACKET DESIGN BY PHILIP E. PASCUZZO

  JACKET PHOTOGRAPHS: BACKGROUND © JOE PETERSBURGER/NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC STOCK;

  COUPLE © MAT THIAS CLAMER; AUTHOR PHOTO © CAROL SEITZ

  AUTHOR HAIR/MAKEUP STYLIST KIM WAYMAN

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 SIMON & SCHUSTER

  ALSO BY KITTY PILGRIM

  The Explorer’s Code

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 by Kitty Pilgrim

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  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012012957

  ISBN 978-1-4391-9728-8

  ISBN 978-1-4391-9740-0 (ebook)

  To my mother, Nan

  Contents

  Chapter 1: East Seventy-Seventh Street, New York

  Chapter 2: Long Island City, Queens, New York

  Chapter 3: 1010 Fifth Avenue, New York

  Chapter 4: 15 Desbrosses Street, Tribeca, New York

  Chapter 5: Brooklyn Museum of Art, Brooklyn

  Chapter 6: The Mark Hotel, East Seventy-Seventh Street, New York

  Chapter 7: Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

  Chapter 8: Carlyle Hotel, New York

  Chapter 9: Metropolitan Museum of Art

  Chapter 10: 1010 Fifth Avenue

  Chapter 11: Metropolitan Museum of Art

  Chapter 12: 1010 Fifth Avenue

  Chapter 13: Metropolitan Museum of Art

  Chapter 14: Carlyle Hotel

  Chapter 15: Metropolitan Museum of Art

  Chapter 16: Madison Avenue and Eighty-Second Street, New York

  Chapter 17: 1010 Fifth Avenue

  Chapter 18: The Mark Hotel

  Chapter 19: Mayfair, London, England

  Chapter 20: Carlyle Hotel

  Chapter 21: Balthazar Restaurant, Soho, New York

  Chapter 22: Time Warner Center, One Columbus Circle, New York

  Chapter 23: Conservation Labs, Brooklyn Museum

  Chapter 24: 19th Police Precinct, East Sixty-Seventh Street, New York

  Chapter 25: Brooklyn Museum

  Chapter 26: North Cove Marina, New York

  Chapter 27: 1010 Fifth Avenue

  Chapter 28: North Shore University Hospital, Manhasset, Long Island

  Chapter 29: 15 Desbrosses Street

  Chapter 30: Red Parrot Bar, Vestry Street, New York

  Chapter 31: The Khamsin Motoryacht, Off the Coast
of Maine

  Chapter 32: Central Park, New York

  Chapter 33: Cairo, Egypt

  Chapter 34: Brooklyn Museum

  Chapter 35: British Air, First-Class Lounge, Kennedy Airport, New York

  Chapter 36: Brooklyn, New York

  Chapter 37: Grosvenor Street, London

  Chapter 38: Teterboro Airport, New Jersey

  Chapter 39: London

  Chapter 40: Manchester Street, London

  Chapter 41: The Khamsin Motoryacht, North Atlantic, N 44°38', W 43°56'

  Chapter 42: Meadow Lane, Southampton, Long Island

  Chapter 43: Flight UA 6534, Denver to Jackson Hole, Wyoming

  Chapter 44: Bristol and Overton Solicitors, Manchester Street, London

  Chapter 45: Grosvenor Street, London

  Chapter 46: Cairo, Egypt

  Chapter 47: Jackson Hole, Wyoming

  Chapter 48: Bristol and Overton Solicitors, Manchester Street, London

  Chapter 49: Ritz Hotel, London

  Chapter 50: Grosvenor Street, London

  Chapter 51: Grand Teton National Park, Jackson Hole

  Chapter 52: Long Island City

  Chapter 53: Brooklyn Museum

  Chapter 54: London

  Chapter 55: Grosvenor Street, London

  Chapter 56: Ritz Hotel

  Chapter 57: Queens, New York

  Chapter 58: Upper East Side, New York

  Chapter 59: The Khamsin Motoryacht, N 47°14', W 27°29'

  Chapter 60: Queens

  Chapter 61: London

  Chapter 62: British Museum, London

  Chapter 63: Biggin Hill Airport, London

  Chapter 64: Balmoral Hotel, Edinburgh, Scotland

  Chapter 65: Somewhere in the English Channel

  Chapter 66: Balmoral Hotel

  Chapter 67: Ayrshire, Scotland

  Chapter 68: Mary King’s Close, Edinburgh

  Chapter 69: Culzean Castle, Ayrshire

  Chapter 70: Unknown Location, English Channel

  Chapter 71: Culzean Castle

  Chapter 72: The Khamsin Motoryacht

  Chapter 73: Federal Plaza, New York

  Chapter 74: Grosvenor Street, London

  Chapter 75: The Khamsin Motoryacht, N 37°32', E 8°36'

  Chapter 76: Secret Intelligence Service (MI6), London

  Chapter 77: Grand Canal, Venice, Italy

  Chapter 78: London

  Chapter 79: Venice

  Chapter 80: The Khamsin, Venice Yacht Club

  Chapter 81: Hotel Danieli, Venice

  Chapter 82: La Fenice Opera House, Venice

  Chapter 83: Ristorante al Teatro, Venice

  Chapter 84: La Fenice Opera House

  Chapter 85: Hotel Danieli

  Chapter 86: La Fenice Opera House

  Chapter 87: Venice

  Chapter 88: Hotel Danieli

  Chapter 89: Sharm el-Sheikh, Egypt

  Chapter 90: The Khamsin Motoryacht

  Chapter 91: Sharm el-Sheikh

  Chapter 92: Sharm el-Sheikh

  Chapter 93: The MoonSonnet Motorsailer, Sharm el-Sheikh

  Chapter 94: Sharm el-Sheikh Conference Center

  Chapter 95: The MoonSonnet Motorsailer

  Chapter 96: Sharm el-Sheikh Conference Center

  Chapter 97: The MoonSonnet Motorsailer

  Chapter 98: Sharm el-Sheikh Conference Center

  Chapter 99: The MoonSonnet Motorsailer

  Chapter 100: Sharm el-Sheikh Conference Center

  Chapter 101: Namru-3, Cairo

  Chapter 102: The MoonSonnet Motorsailer, N 40°03', E 26°17'

  Chapter 103: Namru-3

  Acknowledgments

  All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.

  —T. E. Lawrence, The Seven Pillars of Wisdom

  When the plague visits Egypt, it is generally in the spring; and the disease is most severe in the period of the Khamsin.

  —Edward William Lane, An Account of the Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians, 1860

  THE STOLEN CHALICE

  East Seventy-Seventh Street, New York

  THE BLACK MERCEDES CLS 550 stopped in front of the Mark Hotel on East Seventy-Seventh Street and the doorman rushed out to open the passenger door. In the fraction of a second it took John Sinclair to step out of the limousine, time collapsed. It had been five years since he last stood in this exact spot, but it seemed like yesterday, with one important difference—life had vastly improved, thanks to Cordelia Stapleton.

  He turned to help Cordelia from the car, lacing his fingers through hers, as she surveyed the quiet Upper East Side neighborhood. The canopy of the Mark Hotel was before her, and golden, fan-shaped ginkgo leaves whirled down in the autumn breeze.

  “I can’t believe we’re actually here!” she said, her green eyes lighting up with excitement.

  “I know I put up some resistance about coming to this gala,” Sinclair admitted, “but now I’m actually looking forward to it.”

  The Ancient Civilizations Ball was the most glamorous event of the fall social season. International celebrities and New York society people mingled with the elite of the art and antiquities world. Sinclair’s attendance was sure to generate a buzz. He was a celebrated archaeologist and had discovered more ancient sites than anyone since Howard Carter, the legendary explorer who found King Tut’s tomb.

  As Sinclair entered the hotel, the desk manager looked up.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Sinclair! So nice to see you again.”

  “How are you, Bernie? It’s been entirely too long. I’d like you to meet Cordelia Stapleton.”

  “Miss Stapleton, delighted! No need to register, I have your information. What time would you like the hotel car to pick you up this evening?”

  “Seven-thirty would be fine,” Sinclair said, checking his watch.

  The manager walked with them to the elevator, reached in, and punched the button for the tenth floor. As it ascended, Sinclair watched the lights—3, 4, 5—and then turned to Cordelia.

  “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Delia,” he said, using her childhood nickname.

  She gave him a look that lingered for another two floors. Then he moved decisively, pulling her toward him. She melted into his chest, pressing her cheek against his white shirt. He bent down and kissed her until the chime of the elevator registered in his brain and she pulled away.

  “I’ll get the bags settled and then we can continue our . . . conversation,” Sinclair said as he followed the uniformed bellman into the bedroom of the suite.

  Cordelia watched his broad shoulders retreat down the hall and turned to survey the living room—tastefully decorated in shades of pale gold. On the bar, an ice bucket held Veuve Clicquot and Badoit mineral water. Out the window, skyscrapers glowed silver against the evening sky.

  “John, you should look at this view!” she called.

  All was silent, only the air conditioner was whirring.

  “John?”

  No answer. She entered the bedroom and found Sinclair asleep, fully clothed. He was a gorgeous sight, stretched out in his elegant Savile Row suit. There was a formal stateliness to his position—flat on his back, arms at his sides—as if he were an ancient pharaoh lying on a bier. His face was still deeply tanned from the expedition to Egypt, a contrast to the white pillowcase. Sinclair had strong features, classically handsome, but with a rugged appearance that spoke of sun and sand, and a life spent outdoors.

  Careful not to disturb him, Cordelia tiptoed over to her suitcase. The zipper made a tearing sound and he stirred.

  “I drifted off,” he said sleepily.

  “Sorry, I need to hang up my dress.”

  Sinclair rolled on his side and propped his head up.

  “Care to join me?” He patted the bed next to him. “I know a gre
at cure for jet lag. You’ll feel like a new woman.”

  His eyes were dancing, and a smile played around his lips.

  “I’m so tired, I might not get up again,” she demurred.

  “What’s that over there on the desk?” he asked.

  Cordelia hung up her gown and then walked over to a huge vase of white lilies wrapped in glistening cellophane. She pulled off the card and read it aloud.

  “Dear Delia, Have a great time at the gala. Love, Jim Gardiner.”

  “He really does spoil you,” Sinclair observed.

  “He always did,” she agreed, walking toward the bathroom. “I think there’s time for a nice soak before we go out.”

  The bath was palatial—a large, footed tub and his-and-her marble sinks.

  “Ohhh . . . they have my favorite ginseng bubble bath!” she called back to him, seizing the Molton Brown bottle.

  “Is that tub big enough for two?” she heard him ask from the bedroom.

  “Of course.”

  She turned on the tap, undressed, pinned up her hair, and slipped in, feeling the warm water slide over her limbs. Sinclair appeared in the doorway, holding the bottle of champagne and two flute glasses. His tie was pulled loose and his shoes were off.

  “May I join you?”

  Long Island City, Queens, New York

  THE WORKING-CLASS NEIGHBORHOOD was a few miles away from the gleaming luxury of Manhattan. Decades ago this had been a respectable place to live. Now the family row houses were dilapidated and streaked with grime, and vacant lots were interspersed with industrial warehouses.

  Vojtech threw his cigarette to the curb, picked up his bag, and walked over to the dented steel door of Fantastic Fetes.

  “You’re late!” the catering manager yelled at him. “You were supposed to be in the van five minutes ago!”

  The manager’s florid neck undulated with rage.

  Vojtech felt the cold metal grip of his pistol in his canvas coat. As he pulled the weapon out, it caught on the pocket. He tugged the barrel free and pointed it at the catering manager.

  His hand shook a bit. But the boss didn’t see that—his eyes were on the gun, bulging with fear.