The Crypt Trilogy Bundle

by Bill Thompson

  “Long enough to find out what this is all about. If anything earth-shattering comes up, I’m not that far away. Call me if you need something and I promise to let you know everything from now on.”

  You expect me to believe that?

  When the call ended, Philippe held his head in his hands, overwhelmed with sadness. He felt betrayed and deceived, but even more he felt disappointed. Things between them would never be the way they had been before. Roberto obviously didn’t trust him enough to share his most exciting adventures. The man undoubtedly had even more secrets, ones Philippe would never know. And others he didn’t know Philippe had already learned.

  So Roberto had secrets. Now Philippe did too, thanks to the Russians. Philippe had called specifically to let Roberto know about the men who were here yesterday, what they wanted and about the pictures. He’d decided to tell his partner the entire story. Even now, with betrayal overpowering his senses, he didn’t believe Roberto Maas was the person they were seeking. But deceit flowed both ways. So Philippe told Roberto nothing about two Russians who were looking for the former child prostitute they believed was now Roberto Maas.

  Two can play this game, he thought bitterly.

  Suddenly an interesting thought popped into Philippe’s head. Why not make the best of it? Turn that anger of mine into revenge!

  His new idea made him both frightened and grippingly intrigued. A part of Philippe yearned for excitement – he knew it was genetic, flowing through the bloodline of his Romanian gypsy ancestors. Philippe’s mother had told him stories about his father’s passion for the cause of his people, and he grew up with a stylized concept of the fierce, dark rogue he envisioned his dead father would have been.

  Philippe dismissed his own flaws, his own human failures, his own little secrets, as part of his gypsy heritage. Everyone did something wrong now and then, and he was a gypsy, after all. It was easy to shrug off the occasional problem with a call girl who ended up beaten a bit more than he intended, or a shoplift here and there even when he had plenty of money in his pocket. He kept his passions, desires and needs well hidden, especially now that he was running a major private company.

  So now he devised a plan. He knew everything about Roberto Maas’s operations. He routinely directed the movement of millions of dollars at a time for his partner, the man whom he’d previously considered his friend. He knew exactly how to work things at Ciprian Investments.

  With great risk comes great opportunity.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Roberto sat outdoors at the Bird in Hand, a pub in Covent Garden. A sandwich and a glass of wine before him, he thought about Edward Russell. The strange man was unpredictable. Instead of the bookish, studious, frail individual he looked to be, he had suddenly become a threatening bully.

  The man was unstable at the least, dangerous at worst. Given Roberto’s years of wet-ops experience, the bookseller would be no match for him, and he also was certain the man was more bark than bite.

  Roberto intended to find out what Edward was hiding in the crypt. By now one would have expected the British antiquities authority to be hard at work combing over every square inch of it. But that hadn’t happened. Edward hadn’t brought them in. Why? That was a question that needed answering.

  Unable to buy Edward’s building, Roberto had amended his plan. He’d acquired an option on the building next door so he could see if the crypt of St. Mary Axe extended under there too.

  By doing that he’d gotten far more than he’d expected. He found an ancient Roman burial passageway dating at least to the fourth century, maybe even earlier. So far he hadn’t explored it all the way, but it likely ran more than a thousand feet, all the way to the Thames itself. His big problem with the passageway was lighting it. The old building had been vacant for so many years that an inspection was required before the power company would restore electricity. He couldn’t get lights until sometime next week.

  What he’d found was exciting, but he was determined to learn what the man was hiding. And he would find out despite his threats. Roberto would be careful; he’d let himself slide a couple of times lately, but he was on heightened watch now. Juan Carlos could help, but Roberto didn’t really think that was necessary. Juan Carlos’s targets always met a fatal ending. This was different. The others were contract jobs for someone else, strictly business. The situation with Edward Russell was personal. Roberto’s emotions were involved. Surely Juan Carlos wouldn’t have to handle this. It was a simple archaeological project, for God’s sake. Why was Edward so defensive, so threatening, so secretive? What was going on in the crypt?

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “This lens is filthy. It can’t be of much use to you with all this dirt on it. I’m just being a good neighbor and cleaning it for you.”

  Roberto was on a ladder with a cloth, polishing the lens of the small video camera Edward had installed on the side of his building to keep an eye on Roberto’s comings and goings. Knowing how Edward would react, he’d done it anyway to bring things to a head.

  “Get away from there before I call the police.”

  Roberto casually climbed down the ladder and moved it to the front of his building. He turned to Edward with a grim smile and said, “You know, I believe the one thing you absolutely will not do is call the police. We need to talk. There are things I want to know and things you need to know.”

  “Stay away from my premises, Mr. Sebastian.”

  “It’s Maas, actually.” Roberto smiled cordially, taunting the man. “Roberto Maas.”

  That infuriated Edward. He turned in a huff, went back to his bookshop and slammed the front door so hard the windows rattled.

  Roberto walked back to his own building and down into the chamber. Even though electricity was a week away, there was plenty he could do so he wouldn’t lose time later.

  He spent the morning preparing high-powered LED lights FedEx had delivered to his hotel yesterday. These were the same flood lamps used in underground mining operations. He’d purchased six lights and ten one-hundred-foot extension cords. His lighting project extended nearly a thousand feet down the tunnel.

  It wasn’t easy running the cords and lights in the darkness. He needed both hands to work so he depended on his little headlamp for illumination. Given the tunnel’s size, he could see nothing except whatever was directly in front of him.

  As he worked along the side walls, Roberto glanced at the bodies lying in wall niches. He wanted time here, to learn who these people had been. The lack of light made examination almost impossible. He had to wait until the power was on. Today he’d prepare the lights. A close study of the corpses would have to wait.

  He sat in the crypt, having lunch and a beer, then picked up a set of tools that he’d ordered with the lights. There were a number of long slender picks. He took the tools to the ancient door, knelt and began to work.

  Juan Carlos was an accomplished lock-picker; it came in handy now and then. But this huge, clumsy medieval keyhole was a challenge. Its sheer magnitude made it difficult. Modern padlocks were complex but much more easily conquered. He peered into the keyhole. Earlier he’d run a long pick through it and learned it went about eighteen inches through the door then out the other side. Roberto shined a flashlight through the keyhole – the room beyond was pitch black, but now he knew all that separated him from Edward’s chamber was this eighteen-inch-thick door.

  He spent fifteen minutes moving the picks around inside the keyhole without success. Finally he stood, his knees and back tired from the strain of kneeling. He put the picks into their case and decided to call it quits for today. Turning, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Words, lightly carved into the stone next to the door. He’d rubbed away centuries of dust with his palm. Now four words were clearly visible.

  Dux ipse habet clavem.

  His tired knees were quickly forgotten in a thrill of exhilaration. This gave him a renewed sense of ex
pectation and hope. He had a clue!

  Dux ipse habet clavem.

  The leader holds the key.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  In total darkness Edward Russell sat in a chair in the crypt below his bookshop. He’d been waiting there nearly two hours. Finally he saw it. A tiny shaft of light appeared through the keyhole. Now he heard tiny scraping noises. A pick. Someone on the other side was trying to pick the lock.

  After his encounter with Juan Carlos, or Roberto, or whatever his name was, Edward went straight down into the crypt. He figured his adversary had found something below his own building and he was correct. His patient waiting had paid off.

  This door clearly opened into whatever was below Roberto’s building. Now Edward knew there was a room on the other side too. Roberto had undoubtedly found the extension to the St. Mary Axe crypt. Actually Juan Carlos had found it. He preferred the name of the collector of ancient things over the pseudonym of the Swiss businessman. The bookseller knew who he was. He wouldn’t be tricked. This man was after his things, but Edward wouldn’t let him take them.

  Edward went home, ate dinner, set his alarm and went to bed early.

  At three a.m. he was in the attic of his shop. He squeezed up a narrow set of stairs and opened a cover to the roof. He hauled up a lightweight ladder, walked to the edge, dropped down a mere two feet and was on top of Juan Carlos’s building next door.

  Within five minutes he had found a broken skylight. He carefully removed shards of glass and used a flashlight to look down inside. The drop to the floor below was eight feet. He returned to his own roof, brought the ladder over, stuck it through the skylight and went down.

  Moonbeams poked through the grimy, cracked windows as he switched on his torch just long enough to find the stairway. The ground floor was two stories down and he went straight to the back of the building. An open door led to the basement, where he found the hole Roberto had dug. The top of a ladder extended out of it.

  Thanks, Juan Carlos, for making this so easy!

  He scampered down the ladder into a chamber, which in some ways was similar to his. He turned on his flashlight, saw the other side of the locked wooden door and bodies lying on ledges. This was very different from the single sarcophagus on his side. These bodies were very, very old. Long ago there must have been wood coffins – there were pieces scattered among the bones – but those had been destroyed by the elements. He shined his light down the passageway and saw that it stretched off into the darkness.

  Edward had seen enough for tonight. He started up the ladder. Suddenly a light shone in his face, momentarily blinding him. He saw Roberto walk from the dark hallway into the room.

  “Fancy meeting you here. Something in my basement that you needed?”

  ——

  The men sat at the table in Edward’s back room. It was nearly four a.m.

  Edward prepared cups as the kettle boiled on the stove. He went back and forth between the counter and the table, bringing milk and sugar for the tea he was brewing. After the confrontation in the chamber next door, they’d declared a truce.

  It was time for show-and-tell. Each knew the other had found a chamber. It was time to join forces and work together. They didn’t have to like each other, but they had to work together. It was the smart thing to do in order to figure all this out.

  Edward agreed to tell his side first. To Roberto’s surprise, he was suddenly friendly and open about what he had found so far.

  “I’m glad we’ve come to this point and I apologize for my earlier caution. It appears we’ve both found ancient things. Ever since I saw the sarcophagus and the wooden door in the chamber, I knew I was on to something really big. Have you heard the name Lamorak?”

  Roberto thought a moment. “Maybe. Although I can’t recall where.”

  “Lamorak was a knight. One of Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table.”

  “That doesn’t ring a bell. He’s certainly less well known than others in the stories of the knights.”

  Edward took the kettle off the stove. “But he’s the most important one. And they’re not myths.”

  “Really? Why do you say that?”

  “Because he’s down there in the crypt.”

  That was a surprise. He had the Romans on his side and Edward had a Knight of the Round Table on his. Unbelievable.

  Edward held nothing back. He said he’d found several things, each of which was corroboration that King Arthur wasn’t just a story. He had lived, been king of Britain, died and was buried.

  The bookseller described the fifty-odd books his grandparents had found in the chamber. He’d noted the names and summary information on each but had spent time on only a few. He told Roberto about the eyewitness account of the Battle of Badon between the Britons and Saxons. “In my limited investigation so far, I can tell you it describes in great detail the role of Arthur and his knights as they led the Britons to victory.”

  They talked about the significance of the sword inscribed with Lamorak’s name and how it alone might be enough to prove the Arthurian legend was true.

  “But the piece de resistance, the icing on the cake if you will, is a set of diaries. King Arthur was real. I have conclusive proof, irrefutable evidence. But we’ll get to all that in due time. First let’s have our tea, and then we’ll see my crypt.”

  Edward hummed softly as he took the kettle off the stove. He’d told Roberto everything. He’d enjoyed revealing his discoveries. Ever since his grandparents died, he’d wished there were someone to share the exciting information with. It was exhilarating to see Roberto’s interest as he heard of the amazing things the Russells had found.

  And it didn’t matter one bit how much of the story Juan Carlos knew.

  His back to Roberto, Edward prepared the tea, pouring it into two cups. He turned, set one in front of Roberto and the other on his side of the table. He put the kettle in the sink then sat down across from Roberto.

  “Even though it’s only tea we’re having, I think a toast is in order, don’t you? To the discoveries that lie beneath us and to many exciting hours ahead, learning about what we’ve found.” He raised his cup of tea. So did Roberto.

  Just as Edward’s cup touched his lips, Roberto said softly, “I switched the cups.”

  Edward’s hand shook and he spilled a little tea on the floor. Holding the cup unsteadily, he said, “I beg your pardon?”

  Roberto laughed. The man’s response was exactly what he’d expected.

  “You heard me correctly. I said I switched the teacups. And I’m ready to join you in that toast you offered.” He raised his cup again.

  “Goddamn you, Juan Carlos!” Edward screamed, throwing his cup against the wall, where it shattered into a dozen pieces. “What in hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Roberto took a large sip from the cup that had been Edward’s. “No tea for you? It’s excellent, actually. My compliments. But that’s enough. Now that we know each other a little better let’s cut the bullshit, as the Americans would say.”

  He jumped up and grabbed Edward’s arm tightly. “I presume you drugged my tea. Maybe you were going to kill me. Who knows? Who cares? It’s immaterial. But I can tell you this. It won’t happen again. Do you understand me?”

  Edward twisted out of Roberto’s grip and replied sullenly, “Just trying to make tea. You pissed me off by not trusting me, so I reacted. You’re way out of line and I have no idea what you’re talking about, Juan Carlos.”

  Roberto spoke in a steely, cold voice. “I’m not Juan Carlos, so you can drop the little game you’re playing. Regardless of what you just tried to do, we still have to work together. If we don’t, we’ll never succeed with this amazing discovery.

  “I don’t trust you. You don’t trust me either. We’re not going to be friends, but we’re going to join forces. It’s the smart thing for both of us to do. You’re going to show me what you have in the crypt. And I’ll show you what’s on my side. Don’t ever try anything stupid again. If
you do, you can trust me on this. You’re no match for me and you will regret it. You want me on your side. Period.”

  Edward seethed with fury as he cleaned up the tea from the floor with a cloth.

  And vice versa, he muttered to himself as he unlocked the door to the basement. Tea’s not the only thing I’ll be offering you before we’re done, Mr. Sebastian. There’s room in the crypt for one more.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  For the next two weeks the men worked as a team. There was no camaraderie, no friendship, no trust, but each had something the project required. Edward had been stymied without a so-called partner in crime. Until now he had had no one with which to share the secrets of the chamber, no one to help him with the details, and no one off whom to bounce thoughts and ideas. Edward decided for now he’d call him Roberto instead of Juan Carlos, even though they both knew who he really was.

  Roberto found the eccentric bookseller’s intelligence and vast knowledge of ancient history immensely helpful as they tackled the mysteries that lay in the rooms below St. Mary Axe. Edward’s side had interesting artifacts and books. Considered individually they were valuable items from Saxon and early Briton times. Together, as evidence that the legendary King Arthur might have actually lived, their value could be immense.

  Edward’s big secret remained his alone. Roberto didn’t know where the bodies were literally buried. The bookseller often examined the floor stones where Curtis Pemberly and his clerk lay. As long as those stones looked just like all the others, nothing would give the secret away.

  The men worked in an environment of mutual assistance despite the absence of trust. Once they knew that the wooden door connected Edward’s crypt with Roberto’s, there was no need to keep trying to open it. Each allowed the other access to his side of the chambers. Edward didn’t like having Roberto down there, but he had to give something in order to learn more about the tunnel on Roberto’s side. He’d keep a close eye on Roberto whenever he was around.