onto the bed to search, she found nothing.
“He’d have been in a hurry,” Drake said, glancing around. “Nothing too elaborate. Somehow he snuck into this room. He’d have put whatever it is somewhere it wouldn’t be found easily or quickly, but he’d have known that nobody would be searching this room, so it might be he’d put it somewhere he could be sure it would be found eventually.”
“Not the safe,” Jada said. “I’m sure it’s left open before a new guest checks in.”
Sully narrowed his eyes, then turned to look at the air-conditioning unit beside the window. He hurried over to it and knelt down, prying the face panel off the machine. When he removed it, a small bundle fell to the floor.
“Bingo,” Sully said.
He picked it up and tugged off the thick rubber bands around it, and the bundle separated out into a small sheaf of folded pages and a shabby journal of the sort sold in any office supply store in the world. A piece of hotel stationery fluttered to the ground, and Sully snatched it up, gave it a quick, grim scan, and then handed it to Jada, who climbed down from the bed.
Her hand trembled a bit as she took it, but when she read, her voice was steady.
“ ‘To whom it may concern. Upon your discovery of these documents, please contact my daughter, Jadranka Hzujak, and arrange to see them delivered to her.’ ” Jada glanced up at Drake. “He’s got my address here. Nothing more.”
Sully had unfolded one of the papers and now laid it on the bed. The three of them stared down at the map of Crocodilopolis on which Luka had drawn the location of the labyrinth of Sobek and what he suspected were its dimensions and basic design. There were scribblings on the map as well, most of them apparently references to the lengths of corridors but some evidently comparisons to the labyrinth at Knossos on the island of Crete.
“Here. You should be the one,” Sully said, handing Jada the journal.
She opened it and began to read, but immediately her expression turned to disappointment.
“What is it?” Drake asked.
Jada frowned, turning and scanning pages. “Notes, mostly. I was kind of hoping it was a real journal, y’ know? Something that would lay it all out for us. But it’s his notes to himself.”
She moved between them, turning so that Drake and Sully could peruse the pages with her. Drake saw what she meant. There were drawings of labyrinths, some larger and some with more intricate details.
“Is that a trap?” Sully asked, indicating one sketch. “Like something from the pyramids?”
“Looks like,” Drake agreed.
There were scribbles about Daedalus. “Knossos first,” Luka had written. “Then Croc City—and then, where’s number three?”
“So he’s confirming that Daedalus designed three labyrinths?” Drake asked.
“Yeah,” Jada said, flipping two pages back. “It’s right here. ‘Fundamental design of Cretan labyrinth used three times. Honey a constant.’ ”
“Honey?” Sully grumbled. “What the hell does he mean?”
None of them replied. Jada flipped a few more pages, pausing only momentarily to study the small maps Luka had drawn in the journal. They depicted the progress of the dig on the labyrinth of Sobek. One of the maps had another reference to honey: a design that seemed to indicate four separate routes that led into a single location in the labyrinth. Beside it, with an arrow, Luka had scrawled the words “Honey Chamber location differs from Knossos, but command is the same—Mistress of the Labyrinth must be given an amount equivalent to all other gods put together.”
Luka had drawn an arrow to indicate that his thoughts were continued on the next page, one of his habits, if this journal was any indication. With a dry rustle of paper the only sound in the room, Jada flipped the page.
“Amazing,” Luka had written. “In Temple of Sobek—labyrinth of Sobek—but Sobek’s worshippers give Mistress of the Laby. greater tribute than they give to their god? Why?”
“Damn good question,” Sully growled.
“Even better question if we knew what honey he’s referring to,” Drake replied.
“You don’t think he just means regular honey?” Jada asked.
Drake glanced at her. “Do you? I mean, all jokes about anything called a ‘honey chamber’ aside—okay, it sounds like a special room Elvis would take his babes in Graceland—but if the other gods are being offered this honey, too, it’s probably not the Winnie-the-Pooh variety.”
Sully gave him a sidelong glance but ignored the babble. “Jada, didn’t you say the worshippers of Sobek actually decorated living alligators with