In 1876 Heinrich Schliemann stunned the world with his announcement that he had discovered the tomb of Agamemnon in Mycenae, Greece. My grandfather, a refugee from Cyprus worked for Schliemann. Among the dignitaries from all countries that flocked to the site to examine Schliemann's discovery, my grandfather alone refuted Schliemann's claim. The locals in the village were incensed, ready to lynch my grandfather, who was forced to flee the country. In America my grandfather engaged in a number of successful small businesses, always dreaming of returning to Cyprus. It never happened. Ultimately, he wound up in Indiana with my father, who was the town physician. In Indiana my grandfather became a buffer between myself, a dark skinned anomaly in a community of bullying, blond Germanic rednecks. Without my grandfather to lead me to and from school each day, I would not have made it through kindergarten. This security ended with the death of my grandfather. Fate, however, intervened with the arrival in town of the Twitam family and a Cyprus connection that would lead me back to my grandfather's homeland and the true story of the man behind the golden mask.