by D C Macey
‘How’s that?’
‘Well, imagine you are the Templar knight who was first appointed here by Henri de Bello, all those years ago. You know the daggers are hidden around the Christian world, they are important; today, we’re thinking they might be a message or parts of a map. But you don’t know where the daggers are; don’t need to know until they are to be recalled. You just know how to find them when the time comes - that’s your job. The big job that everything else rests on -’
‘And how do I know where they are without knowing where they are? In fact, stop for a moment Sam. I feel the need for a glass of the pink stuff. What about you?’
‘Oh, nothing for me.’ He followed her into the kitchen and continued his explanation while drawing a cork and pouring her a glass of rosé. He paused for a moment and then grabbed himself a bottle of beer after all.
‘The only thing each of your predecessors needed to know, as the minister entrusted with the task, is where the map icons were - sealed within a scroll inside your church’s cross - not what icons were actually on the scroll. Only when the time comes for recalling the daggers would you break the seal on the shaft, unwrap it and there you are; then you get the knowledge. It will tell you what towns or places are being used to hide the daggers.’
Helen lowered the glass from her lips. ‘I follow all of that. But it still doesn’t tell what circumstances would demand a recall of the daggers, when my predecessors should open the scroll.’
‘I’ve thought about that. I don’t think we can ever know for sure. The Templars seem to have compartmentalised each piece of knowledge. Maybe there’s more information in that ledger you discovered in Switzerland, I’ll really need to look at it. But whatever the starting trigger was, it doesn’t matter now, we’ve read the scroll anyway.’
Sam took a mouthful of beer, grimaced theatrically and then beckoned her to follow him back into the living room. He unrolled the map again, held it up for Helen to see. ‘Every place is drawn on the Mappa Mundi with a simple icon to represent it. But look closely, every icon is different. The mapmaker could never have visited most of these places. They are representations based on flimsy descriptions, hearsay and guess work. But they are all unique images, so if you have the Mappa Mundi or one of its copies, and there were known to have been other copies made at that time, you could find any place of significance across the known world, based on the map icon representing it.
‘Of course, the only real problem your predecessor would have faced is accessing the Mappa Mundi itself, but seven hundred years ago that might not have been such a problem. It’s quite probable there would have been a copy hidden somewhere in the parish, it might even still be here. But we’ve seen no sign of it, I suspect that was lost a long time ago.’
Helen took another drink of the wine. ‘But that wouldn’t really matter because the master map is safe all the time in Hereford Cathedral.’
‘Exactly - a backup.’
‘Sam I can see how you find the place now, but you haven’t explained how you find the associated dagger.’
Sam sat beside her. ‘You don’t need to search for it at all.’ He waved a hand towards the screen. ‘If I’m right, and we will check soon enough, each icon on the scroll occupies the same relative position as a saint’s image in your church glass. So, first you know what town or district to go to, that’s identified by the icon in the scroll. Then, from the corresponding image of the saints in the glass, you know what church to go to in that place. Once there, you don’t need to search. You have the ring to identify yourself, as will the task bearer at that place.’ Sam gave a little shrug. ‘Presumably there is some instruction to them to hand over the daggers to you or for them to bring them to Edinburgh. Who knows?’
‘Xavier will,’ Helen raised her glass towards Sam.
‘Right, though I don’t think the doctors will let us ask him about that right now,’ he raised his beer bottle and they clinked glass, ‘but we’re making progress at last,’ he said.
‘We are. What now?’
‘We are going to have to cross-refer each glass image of a saint with each map icon. Then research to confirm there is a church of the right name in that place. I think we can get Davy to help with the research. First of all, I need to speak with the experts in Hereford; the landmass and town locations on the Mappa Mundi are distorted so I want to check what some of those images represent on today’s maps. Make sure we’re on the right track to pinpoint the right places.’
‘Yes, but let’s not forget there is a killer lurking in one of the two places we have still to find. Even when we know where they are we will have to be very careful,’ said Helen.
‘We are going to have to keep this quiet. If the killers get even the slightest idea that we have solved the problem they will come for it and we become completely expendable. I don’t think even DCI Wallace could stop them once we move into the end game. I don’t think we should even tell the others until we see them face to face. There have been so many leaks.’
‘There have, but we are still here and making progress. Let’s just keep it going and, like you said when it all blew up first of all, if we can solve it and place the whole thing in the public domain there will be no secrets, nothing to kill for. That’s how we will end this. So, Mr Cameron, to work - let’s find the facts.’
CHAPTER 24 - MONDAY 2nd SEPTEMBER
‘I’m going to the manse now,’ said Helen. ‘I promised Elaine I would help with organising it in her absence.’
‘Well, I suppose it needs to be done. But I thought you had a scheme to outwit James Curry, didn’t you?’
‘I did, I do. But apparently, nothing’s guaranteed in this world and, right or wrong, he’s determined that St Bernard’s is to close. There is no point in antagonising him just for the sake of it.’
‘I don’t know. It might be good to put his blood pressure up a bit.’
‘Not unless we’re sure to be on the winning side. Otherwise, he would just make life harder for everyone concerned. Anyway, what are you up to today?’
‘Well, I’ve taken the church names and locations we know for certain and double checked that the corresponding icons on the scroll actually represent those same places on the Mappa Mundi - all perfect matches. They were quite easy to confirm. I knew the present day locations so knew roughly where to look for the icons on the Mappa Mundi. The problems start with the two icons we’ve not yet matched up to definite locations. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of icons on the Mappa Mundi and they all start to merge together in the end. Trying to match up our unidentified scroll icons with the Mappa Mundi is like searching for needles in a haystack. I’ve hit a bit of a brick wall with them. It doesn’t help that my print of the Mappa Mundi is only half-size. I really need to use the original map.’
‘You’re going back to Hereford?’
‘No, not just now anyway, I’ve copied the icons I can’t identify and am going to send them down to Hereford Cathedral to get Simon Owens’ opinion. Hopefully he can confirm exactly which places those unidentified scroll icons represent on a modern map. From that, I can use the church’s window to identify the names of the churches we are interested in at those locations and hey presto, Davy does some research and we know where the remaining two daggers are, or were.’
‘Good luck then. It sounds very simple, though nothing else has been so far. Just be careful not to do anything that might alert anyone else.’
‘No problem. And don’t let James Curry upset you. Will we meet for lunch?’
‘I don’t know. There’s quite a lot to do. Why not come over to the manse when you’re finished and we can see how things are getting along.’
They kissed briefly before Helen turned and made for the door.
• • •
‘It means nothing to me,’ said Cassiter. He leant back in his chair while maintaining eye contact with Parsol who was staring back at him via the computer screen link.
‘I have nothing either. It must mea
n something, but what? Are you sure you can’t have one of your people press them in Edinburgh?’
‘Absolutely. A senior policeman has thrown a protective screen around them. And he has somehow acquired pictures that link me with Collette, Collette and my PA, and hence me with killings in Britain. He has his own agenda so the pictures haven’t made it to the investigation files yet and I have no intention of precipitating that.’
‘I understand your caution, but we can’t allow others to dictate our actions for long,’ said Parsol.
‘No, but in the meantime I’m keeping out of Edinburgh just as he has demanded. The fool retires shortly and then his power will simply melt away. I have people digging in the background and his little family will provide the perfect tool to extract the pictures from him. Then he will pay a price for crossing me… Us.’
‘Good, retribution is always justified, a sound policy and a good example to set for others to see. When the time comes, make sure he understands why he has to die. For now, the question must be what does this picture mean?’
‘Yes. And where did it come from? That would help our understanding. For now, we can wait. We will know if they leave Edinburgh and if we catch them far enough away from that meddling policeman’s jurisdiction, we can ask them about the picture. They’ll be keen enough to tell us once I get started.’
Shortly afterwards, Cassiter brought the video conference to an end. Then he reviewed some reports from his people; elsewhere, all seemed calm. He decided to take a stroll, perhaps go as far as the Seine again, and stop for a nice coffee somewhere. Call into a gallery for an hour or two. Things were going to get very busy, very soon. Perhaps this would be a good moment to take a little quiet time - before the storm.
• • •
A large brown and black removals van was backed into the manse’s driveway. Men were bustling to and fro. First, they took the boxes of clothes that Grace had spent so much time packing, then the boxes of books and papers from the basement storage. Thereafter, room by room, they had taken all the furniture. John Dearly’s life was being steadily packed away. At the start, Helen had taken up position in the hall, overseeing the work. As the work gathered pace, she realised her contribution was just slowing the workmen down. They knew what they were doing and so she retired to the kitchen, sat at the table with a coffee and left supervision to the foreman.
About midmorning, she heard a cheery voice in the hall and her mood began to sink.
‘Very good. You’re making excellent progress. I’m very impressed.’ James Curry’s voice purred with pleasure. ‘Is the lady of the house in?’
Helen watched as a beaming James Curry entered. He paced into the room, crossed to the window, looked out into the garden. She saw him admire it for a moment before turning to speak to her.
‘Such a pity the Church is going to have to lose these lovely properties. But we must consolidate and I’m afraid it has to be.’ His smile contradicted the emotions his words spoke.
Helen gave just the slightest of nods, acknowledging he was speaking.
‘We have to look ahead, I know a few of the parishioners are upset, but they’ll settle down once they get used to attending the neighbouring churches.’
‘All of the parishioners are upset. It may be you can justify it on your spreadsheets but the church exists in its communities, not in ledgers. You’ve crashed a perfectly sound parish.’
‘I don’t want to get drawn into another argument. The arrangements are going ahead so there’s no point in fighting it all over again. In fact we’ve had a rather good offer, exceptional in fact; it’s quite focused our minds.’
‘Oh?’ said Helen.
‘I’m not at liberty to say but they want the contracts completed in quite a rush, so it’s for the best that you are moving John Dearly’s things out now. Where are they going by the way? Auction or a charity shop perhaps? I understand he had no close family.’
‘Storage for a while, and then we’ll see what’s to be done once the dust has settled.’
‘Oh well, very good, though I can’t help feeling that you are all making extra work for yourselves. Surely the easiest thing would be to just dispose of it all?’
Helen glared at him while forcing herself to remain silent and seated.
James Curry gave a shrug. ‘Whatever you think best, as long as you ensure the property is cleared. But I think you have a set of keys for me - your own flat. I assume you’ve emptied it by now. If you have the keys on you, I’ll take them now, the sooner the better.’
Helen opened her bag and pulled out the keys for her church flat. She placed them on the table and James Curry hurried across to pocket them.
‘Very good, that’s one thing less for you to worry about. If you could drop the manse keys into the presbytery office that would be a big help. Now what about the church?’
Helen looked at him for a moment. ‘Elaine has been dealing with that. As you already know, neighbouring parishes have taken various things from the church and the church hall. There are still all the big things to move - the pews and so on. And most of the fittings in the church hall remain. But shouldn’t there be some deconsecrating ceremony or something?’
‘We don’t do that in the Church of Scotland. There will be just a little service of thanksgiving - quite short, quite simple.’ James Curry was starting to sound irritated by Helen’s questioning. ‘It’s all in hand as per procedure. Just, it’s going to be a bit tight, time wise. It needs to be held before change of ownership takes place. I don’t know who made the offer, but their solicitors are really quite insistent that we move quickly or not at all. So it may well be we have to hold the service of thanksgiving on the morning of sale.’
Curry puffed his chest out and stalked across the room. ‘Let me tell you, it’s taken quite an effort to get the General Trustees to allow the sale. I’ve been petitioning them to sanction a quick sale for some time; they’re always determined to ensure the Church gets full value. But once this offer was received, there was no longer a problem; they all saw things my way. It’s essential to proceed now. I have stressed that our purchaser might walk away if there are any delays and we’d lose the sale completely.’ As he spoke, James Curry headed for the kitchen door. ‘So keep up the good work and chop, chop - let’s do nothing to upset our buyer.’
Alone again in the kitchen, Helen sat quietly for several minutes, letting her irritation subside. The man was impossible.
A light knock on the door and the foreman led his team in to clear the kitchen table and chairs. The appliances were being left. A final flurry of effort and the removals team was finished. Helen was alone in an empty building.
For a little while she wandered through the rooms, remembering what had happened - the good and the bad. Then it was time.
Helen set the alarm and pulled the front door shut before locking it securely. For a moment, as she pulled the key from the lock she felt a sense of guilt. Was she closing the door on all the warmth and kindness she had found in the manse, abandoning John Dearly’s memory? She hoped not and shivered in the sunlight, as though somebody had stepped over her grave.
Looking up into the blue sky, she watched a pair of small clouds unmoving in the still lunchtime air; she smiled. She had done her best. Sometimes things were beyond influence, sometimes not. Time would tell and she had faith that John Dearly and Archie Buchan would know she had done everything she could to preserve their story.
The sound of a car horn caught her attention. Blocking the entrance to the manse’s driveway was Sam’s car. From the driver’s seat, he smiled and waved in her direction. She could see him mouthing a question. Lunch?
Stooping to pick up the carrier bag of oddments she had gathered at Elaine’s request, she walked down to join him in the car.
‘How did you get on?’ said Sam, as he slowly drove the car away from the manse. He paused it at the junction with the main road and then took a right and headed towards the city centre. As they approached St Bernard’s
church, he slowed again, let his hand slide off the wheel and gently squeezed her thigh for a moment.
‘Want to stop here for a while?’ He glanced towards Helen, saw her head shake; he drove on.
‘James Curry drives me absolutely mad.’
‘So you’ve said before, but this whole thing is getting pretty close to the line now. If developers get their hands on the properties it will only be a matter of time before they stumble on the tunnel and who knows what. That would be tragic because I don’t believe for a moment we’ve seen the last of the secrets down there.’
‘I know, but I’ve done what I can. It’s in God’s hands now. We’ll just have to let it play out. Hope for the best. The manse is cleared now, ready for the new owner. We left the carpets and curtains, and the kitchen appliances. Everything else has gone in the lorry. Elaine’s job is to plan and organise clearing the church and hall. Turns out, James Curry has found some architectural salvage company; they are going to take a lot of the big stuff, pews and so on. That will leave Elaine to worry about the religious materials.’
‘Right. Perhaps we should try and make time to have a trawl through the tunnel later in the week, before it changes hands. Who knows what your Templars have stashed in it. Thursday or Friday maybe?’
‘I’m up for that, but I really ought to visit Xavier first. We can do it once I get back. I’m sure we can find a quiet half day then.’
‘I think we should try to get it done as soon as possible. If the sale goes through as quickly as Curry told you, the buildings may well be sold before we get another chance.’
‘Still, there’s nothing more we can do to influence things,’ said Helen.
‘What are you up to Helen Johnson? You’re being too calm about this. Too calm by half. And what have you done already to influence things?’
Helen let her hand rest gently on Sam’s upper arm as he drove along. ‘Like I say, I’ve done what I can. I’m praying for a good outcome. Right now, a sympathetic owner is about the best we can hope for; let’s see what happens. Now, let’s get something to eat. Where are we going?’
