River of Ruin Read Free

flat stomach. “And apparently keeps you in shape. I’m fighting a losing battle at a gym four hours a week and you look like you’re in better shape now than when we graduated high school.”
    “You were the one who married a professional chef, not me.” Mercer chuckled. “The fact that I’m single and can’t cook worth a damn is what keeps me thin.”
    “I understand congratulations are in order. Do you remember Cathy Rich, our high school yearbook editor? After all these years, she still e-mails me updates about old class-mates. She told me you might be working in the White House.”
    “Well, not in the White House,” Mercer dodged. “It’s an advisory position to the president. Once I get through some indoctrination I’ll only be going there when called. Kind of a part-time thing.”
    The job was actually Special Science Advisor to the President, a position specifically created for Mercer that would be outside the chief executive’s regular staff of advisors. The offer had come following an unusual job in Greenland that had turned into a violent confrontation with a terrorist cell trying to steal a lethal radioactive isotope called Pandora.
    “I don’t think you are telling me the whole thing,” Jean-Paul said, “but I congratulate you anyway.”
    “Thanks. So, what’s up with the auction? Who’s doing all the buying?”
    “Goddamned Chinks,” Derosier spat. “I hate them.”
    “Not very politically correct.”
    “I’m a Parisian now.” The auctioneer grinned. “We hate everyone equally.” Jean-Paul grew serious. “All I know is he’s Chinese and that a few days after the contents of this auction became public, he sent an intermediary to the family who was selling all the Panama Canal documents in an attempt to buy them outright. As you’ve already guessed, he’s taking everything even remotely connected to the canal while ignoring all the rest. A lot of my regulars are leaving here empty-handed.”
    A look of concern crossed Mercer’s face.
    “Don’t worry,” the expatriate soothed. “When I invited you to this auction, I promised that you’d be able to buy the Godin de Lepinay journal and I’m keeping my word.”
    Mercer understood what Derosier was intimating. “Jean, thanks for the offer, but don’t do anything you wouldn’t for any other client.”
    “Too late. At the beginning of the auction, I announced that Lepinay’s journal was no longer for sale. You pay me the estimate, I think four thousand dollars, and it’s yours. Listen, you’re one of my only clients who actually reads what he buys. I’m sure you’ve already read a translation of Diderot’s twenty-eight-volume Encyclopedie Methodique after I helped you complete the set. I hate that the Panama books I’m selling today are going to end up on some businessman’s shelf because he thinks they’re decorative.”
    A chime rang in the main auction hall. “I’ve got to get back,” Derosier said. “Meet me after the auction and I’ll give you Lepinay’s diary.”
    Mercer waited for the tide of people to return to the salon before reaching inside his jacket for the cell phone his friend Harry White had gotten him for his birthday. The number had already been programmed into the device so he held it to his ear as it beeped through an international exchange. The connection took a full minute.
    “ Hola? ” a woman’s voice answered.
    “Maria, it’s Philip Mercer.”
    “Mercer”—her English was good, but heavily accented—“are you already in Panama City? You sound so clear.”
    Maria Barber was the Panamanian-born wife of Gary Barber, a native Alaskan whom Mercer had met while attending the Colorado School of Mines. Mercer was there having just completed his bachelor’s degree in geology on his way to an eventual doctorate. Gary was two decades older, and had already laid claim to a sizable gold strike when he’d gone to the famed mining school. Gary had dropped out after a single semester, and