A Thoroughly Compromised Lady by Bronwyn Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

crate and breathed a much-desired sigh of relief.

Chapter Four
    C alisto Ortiz aimed a frustrated kick at an empty packing crate and swore in a fluid torrent of Spanish for all to hear. There was inept and then there was outright in competence. His men had bungled the job again. How hard was it to retrieve a map no one knew existed? Yet his men had failed to recover it in Venezuela after the map-maker had mistakenly packed it with his other archaeological finds for shipping back to Spain. Here in London, the map had slipped from their grasp a second time. After having tracked it to an importer named Vasquez, Ortiz had thought his work was nearly done. He simply had to run Vasquez to ground and claim the map. But he was too late. The warehouse was deserted, but only freshly so. The crates were empty and bore the markings of Spanish freight. They also looked new, lacking the dirt and gouges that often accompanied crates over time.
    Calisto Ortiz barked out new orders to his men.‘Search the docks, maybe the ship hasn’t sailed yet. Search the taverns and inns for Vasquez too.’
    The men rushed to do his bidding, leaving him alone in the warehouse. Calisto upended a crate and sat down upon it, heaving a sigh. He cared less about finding the ship than he did about finding Vasquez. Vasquez was fast becoming a valuable link in this game for two reasons. The first reason was of a practical nature. If he didn’t find Vasquez and hence the map, it would mean the map was loose in London. The search would take on a needle-in-the-haystack quality.
    The second reason was more symbolic. Vasquez was moving fast. By all reports the ship had only been in London a short time ahead of his own arrival and now it was potentially gone, the warehouse cleared out. Vasquez knew he had something dangerous and he’d come to London to pass it on to someone, to unburden himself. It meant the map was no longer a well-guarded secret. The mission had now taken on two goals: retrieve the map and silence those who knew about it.
    Ortiz ran his hands through his dark hair, breathing deeply to calm his racing mind. He had to take one step at a time, one assumption at a time. Until he found Vasquez, he had no way of knowing if Vasquez understood the value of the map. It could be that Vasquez only knew he had something of dubious worth, but didn’t know what it was. Along with the map, there were figurines, zemis and metates . Then of course, he’d have to hunt down whomever Vasquez had sold the items to.
    He had to be prepared for best-and worst-case scenarios, the best being that the map had passed from hand to hand without anyone detecting its importance. The worst was that Vasquez did know the significance of themap and had sold it for a nice profit to someone who’d appreciate the map’s value in the discussions that would soon open up between the Venezuelan delegation and the British government in regards to the questionable border Venezuela shared with British Guiana.
    Calisto knew he played a dangerous double game, not only with the British but with the Venezuelan government as well—not that the latter would mind if they came out the victor. Some would claim the map was a forgery, but Calisto preferred to think of the map merely as potentially biased. He wouldn’t be the first person in history to sponsor a map-maker to tweak the boundaries a bit here and there. In all reality, the interior of British Guiana was so under explored, who could say where the borders really were?
    It would take years to disprove the boundaries on his map and ownership was nine-tenths of the law, as the saying went. In the meanwhile, Venezuela would be in possession of a very lucrative piece of land containing riches untold and he and his uncle would be wealthy men.
    Everything would work out. He was a man who knew how to cover his tracks and follow all necessary leads. His men were hunting down Vasquez right now. There was nothing