The Spear of Destiny

by Julian Noyce

“Does she have a name?”

  “Um. Becky I think. Something like that,” Dennis replied taking another bite.

  “I’ll bet all the boys in the office like her.”

  “Yeah I expect so.”

  “Including you.”

  Dennis ignored her and took another mouthful.

  “Peter.”

  “What?”

  “I said, including you.”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh come on. She is gorgeous.”

  “I suppose she is. I don’t have much contact with her,” Dennis lied, “She’s Rogerson’s p.a.”

  “Great legs,” Natalie said, watching Becky strutt around the office, “I love those shoes.”

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “Red stilleto’s. Four inch heels.”

  Dennis peered over the partition of his desk.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “And you’re telling me you’ve never noticed her before.”

  “Not really.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Dennis had to stop himself from choking.

  “Well you can look but no touching. They are lovely shoes.”

  Dennis rolled his eyes and reached into his jeans back pocket, took out his wallet, took out his credit card and handed it to her.

  “You know the pin number.”

  “What’s this for?”

  “Get yourself some new shoes. My treat.”

  Natalie’s face lit up.

  “Thanks darling. I’ve seen a pair I like in Harrods.”

  His smile vanished.

  “Ouch.”

  “You’ll love them. They’re very high heels.”

  “Yeah and a very high price too I suspect. While you’re there why don’t you pick some wine for tonight.”

  “Good idea.”

  Natalie finished her sandwich and coffee and got up to put her coat on.

  “Are you off.”

  “Yes I’ve got a few things to do. Thanks for the shoes.”

  Dennis showed her out. On the stairs they passed a man in a brown suit who nodded in friendly fashion at them as they passed.

  “Gruss Gott!”

  Taken by surprise Dennis managed a quick, “Good afternoon.”

  He and Natalie stopped to look back at the lone figure who rounded the bend in the stairs and disappeared from sight.

  “What was that? German?” she asked.

  “No I think it’s a more common general greeting in Austria. Though I believe most Germans have adopted it.”

  “Peter I’ve got a strange feeling about this.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. He wouldn’t have gotten past security. I expect he’s probably an Austrian journalist reporting on Friday’s events.”

  “I know. You’re right. I just….after what happened to us before….I would quite happily never hear an accent like that again.”

  They reached the ground floor where the security desk was.

  “Hey George,” Dennis called out to the guard behind the desk, “Who was that guy in the brown suit?”

  “I don’t know man,” George replied in his heavy West Indian accent, “I’ve just come back from my break. Gus checked him in.”

  “What’s it say on the log?”

  “Well it looks like Gus didn’t bother to enter a name. Should I go after him.”

  Dennis thought about it. Gus, the other security guard, had been employed by the publishers for seventeen years and as far as Dennis knew, the man was sound.

  “No leave it. He must have been given clearance. I’ll ask Gus if I see him.”

  “Sure thing man.”

  Dennis led Natalie outside. They talked for a minute and then he kissed her goodbye. She turned back once and he watched until he couldn’t see her anymore. Lost in amongst the other pedestrians. Dennis returned to the office and sat next to Dixon again.

  “Sorry James. Where were we?”

  Rogerson’s door flew open.

  “Pete come in here please.”

  “For fuck’s sake. Now what!”

  As Dennis got closer to his editor’s office he saw the man in the brown suit rise out of a chair. The stranger waited until Rogerson closed the door before he extended his hand.

  “Mr Dennis I am inspector Thomas Bauer of the Austrian Criminal Intelligence Service or if you wish Interpol. I am an Austrian police officer based in Vienna where I work and report to the minister of the interior.”

  Dennis shook the hand.

  “How do you do.”

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Rogerson said. He closed the door quietly behind him.

  “Your boss thought it would be better if we talked in here. I would appreciate it Mr Dennis if you didn’t discuss what I’m going to say to you outside of this room. I am, of course, investigating the theft of one of my country’s greatest treasures. A theft which has caused much embarrassment to my government.”

  “Look I already told the police everything I know.”

  “Yes you spoke with a chief inspector Jones did you not.”

  Dennis nodded.

  “The Metropolitan police are only interested in the gun crime committed and though they assure me they are investigating the theft of the ’Spear of Destiny’ I assure you they are not.”

  “I don’t see what I can do to help.”

  Bauer reached into his jacket and took out a large manila envelope. He took out a photograph and passed it to Dennis.

  “The spear of destiny,” Dennis said, studying the picture.

  “Not quite.”

  “What?”

  “That photograph was taken yesterday.”

  “Then you’ve got it back.”

  “No Mr Dennis. The one stolen on Friday was a fake.”

  Dennis raised his eyebrows.

  “A fake. Then the real one is safe.”

  “No not exactly. The real one was stolen a month ago.”

  “From where? The Schatzkammer.”

  “Yes Mr Dennis. The schatzkammer.”

  “How come this is the first anyone has heard of it. News of that nature would have made headlines.”

  “No. The Austrian government managed to keep it quiet. As I said it is of great embarrassment. Three security guards died trying to protect the real one.”

  “So if the real one was stolen why would someone steal a fake. Be prepared to kill for a fake.”

  Bauer took another photograph from the envelope and passed it to Dennis.

  “Do you know this man?”

  Dennis looked straight into the eyes of count Otto Brest von Werner.

  “Yes I know him. He was, that is to say, we were involved in an incident three months ago in which he took my partner and I hostage. He was killed.”

  “Mr Dennis Von Werner is very much alive.”

  “Impossible. I saw them pluck his body from the sea.”

  Another photograph. This one was black and white and grainy. Dennis looked at a hooded figure, terribly disfigured, but there was no mistaking the eyes.

  “Von Werner,” Dennis said quietly.

  “Yes. This photograph was captured by CCTV. He was sitting in the lead range rover outside the British museum. This photograph was obtained when the spear was passed to him through the window. Dennis stared at the photograph open mouthed.

  “He was in prison in Tunisia. His private army broke him out on a routine journey from hospital. Several Tunisian military and police were killed. Until Friday his whereabouts was unknown. We suspect he’s behind the Vienna spear being stolen.”

  “How did he, they, get him out of Tunisia?”

  “Helicopters took him to Carthage where he escaped on his own yacht.”

  “And he made it home?”

  “Back to his castle in Bavaria. We don’t know where he is now. The range rover’s were found abandoned at St Katherine docks. The fake spear was left in the boot of one of them.”

  “There are a couple of things I don’t understand. First if Von Werner stol
e the real spear what did he want with the fake one?”

  “Mr Dennis are you aware of the legend of the spear’s healing powers?”

  “Yes I wrote an article on it.”

  “We can assume that Von Werner has attempted to heal himself using the spear’s powers and that it didn’t work. That is probably why he has stolen the fake one. Upon close inspection he will have realised the London spear was a fake. It is said that the spear only contains healing powers where our saviour Jesus Christ spilled his blood.”

  “You mean where he was crucified.”

  “Or anywhere he has spilled his blood or healed the sick. There are many legends in the bible. He travelled for most of his adult life.”

  “So it could work anywhere if it works at all.”

  “That’s correct Mr Dennis.”

  “I need to swot up on the bible.”

  “You said there were a couple of things you didn’t understand. What was the other matter?”

  “What exactly does all this have to do with me?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Peter Dennis rang Natalie’s phone again for the umpteenth time. She was just entering his pin number on the chip and pin device when she suddenly realised her phone was vibrating in her handbag. She saw the caller was Dennis.

  “Hello,” she said, putting the phone between her shoulder and ear to keep her hands free.

  “Babe where are you?”

  “I’m still shopping in Harrods. I’ve bought some great shoes and some really nice lingerie I just know you’re going to love.”

  “That’s great babe. Listen. Sorry. I know you’re excited but something has come up. Something you’re not gonna believe. How long is Jim in London?”

  “He leaves on Saturday.”

  “Is there somewhere we can meet him? How about his hotel?”

  “If he’s there. He’s giving a talk tonight at a gallery in Chelsea. Why? What’s all this about?”

  “Look can you get hold of him and arrange to meet him. Tell him he really doesn’t want to miss this.”

  “Why don’t you ring him.”

  “I’ve tried and besides I’m not sure how safe it is. My phone may have been hacked.”

  “Hacked!”

  “From what I’ve heard today. Listen I’ll explain when I see you. Get Jim. We need to meet somewhere to talk. All of us. A quiet bar somewhere if not his hotel. Okay.”

  “There’s a winebar not far from me. I’ll get Jim to meet us there.”

  “I know the place. I’ll see you as soon as I can get there.”

  Forty five minutes later Peter Dennis burst through the front door of the pub. Natalie and Jim Hutchinson were standing at the bar waiting for him. He kissed Natalie briefly on the lips, then shook the American’s hand.

  “What are you having to drink? It’s my shout,” Hutchinson said.

  “Budweiser please,” Dennis answered to the girl behind the bar.

  “Make that three,” Hutchinson said placing a twenty pound note on the bar. Dennis waited until the three bottles of beer had been handed out and Hutchinson had received his change before saying.

  “Let’s sit in that booth at the back. It’s a bit quieter.”

  The men waited for Natalie to sit and as Hutchinson sat Dennis threw himself into his seat and puffing up his cheeks he blew his breath out.

  “You won’t believe the day I’ve just had.”

  “I guess by the urgency you’re about to tell us.”

  Dennis looked at Natalie long and hard, not sure of where to start. Then he began.

  “I now know who was behind Friday night. Who stole the spear.”

  Hutchinson leaned closer.

  “Who?”

  Dennis looked straight into Natalie’s eyes.

  “Von Werner.”

  “What?” Hutchinson said.

  Dennis nodded.

  “It’s true.”

  “But we saw Tunisian marines pull his dead body from the sea.”

  “Well he clearly wasn’t dead.”

  Dennis saw the concerned look from his girlfriend.

  “It’s all right. He won’t be coming after us. He’s got what he wants. He’s long gone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Trust me.”

  He reached out to grasp her hand.

  “How do you know all this Pete?”

  “That man in the brown suit,” he said to Natalie, “He’s an Austrian police inspector from Interpol. He came into the office,” he continued for Hutchinson’s benefit, “he had a photograph of Von Werner from CCTV. Von Werner was sitting in the front range rover on Friday night. His face is badly disfigured but there was no mistaking it. It’s definitely him.”

  Natalie felt herself shudder.

  “It’s all right. He’s gone.”

  “So my best guess then,” from Hutchinson, “is that he’s heard of the mystery surrounding the spear of Longinus and that’s why he’s stolen it. He intends to use it.”

  “This is where it gets interesting. The spear from London is a fake. A replica.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right Jim. The Austrians had the real one locked away in a vault. They use replicas just in case of an incident like this.”

  “So Von Werner has a fake.”

  “Not exactly. The London one was abandoned. The real one he stole a month ago. He killed to get it.”

  “Then if he has the real one why did he take the one from the British museum?”

  “Inspector Bauer, that’s his name, the Austrian inspector, Thomas Bauer. He thinks Von Werner has tried to heal himself with the real one but failed. You see it only works where it is said that Christ himself spilt his own blood.“

  “So that means where he was crucified right! Which if memory serves me has the church of the holy sepulchre built over it. How is he going to get to the ground underneath it?”

  “It doesn’t necessarily mean there. Anywhere where Christ bled. It could be where he was whipped by the Romans. We need to read up on our bibles, search the internet etcetera.”

  “What do you mean we?”

  “Bauer has asked for my, our help.”

  “To do what?”

  “To locate where Von Werner will attempt to use the spear next.”

  Dennis looked across at Natalie.

  “You’re not saying much.”

  Natalie didn’t know what to say. She half shrugged.

  “Peter I’m an archaeologist not a treasure hunter.”

  “I know Nat but Bauer believes we might be the best people for the job.”

  “And last time we came face to face with Von Werner he was going to kill us.”

  “I don’t think he would have.”

  “He watched while his Russian thug tried to kill you, would have raped me. Von werner was going to kill us and make it look like it was self defence. Have you forgotten all this?”

  People in the next booth were now looking their way. Dennis leaned in to the middle of the table.

  “We’d better keep our conversation down a bit.”

  “What I still don’t get is what’s in it for us?” Hutchinson said.

  “First we’d be helping an international police team catch a known felon. A felon we all know and second? We’d be following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ. One of the most famous men who ever lived.”

  “I meant financially.”

  “Oh I see. Look we don’t know how big this thing is going to be. First there will be a reward of one million euro’s for the safe return of the real spear and the apprehension of the guilty party or parties responsible.”

  Dennis saw their looks of concern.

  “Bauer has assured me the reward will be there.”

  “Is he going to provide us with guns?”

  “Guns?”

  “Last time we encountered Von Werner he had a private army that was considerably armed or did you assume he’s just going to let us waltz in and take it back from him. Look Pete it’s a
lovely idea but I don’t see what we can do to help. I’m certainly not putting any of my team at risk again.”

  “What are the risks?” Natalie asked.

  “Forget it!” Hutchinson said.

  “We’ll have the full backing from Interpol that anything we do will not result in our being arrested or convicted plus Bauer will assist in any way possible. He already has the Israeli police on full alert in case of anything happening there.”

  “It’s too big,” the American said, “it’s out of our league Pete.”

  Dennis sat back in his seat.

  “Okay,” he took a swig of his beer and put it down on the table gently, “I’m in.”

  “What?”

  “I’m helping them.”

  “Pete I think it’s too dangerous. Natalie talk some sense in to him.”

  “To follow in the footsteps of Jesus Christ babe,” Dennis said with a gleam in his eye,” just think of the untold treasures we could uncover. The very tomb he lay in. Magical. Mystical. Powers from a Roman spear used by some of the most powerful men and women in history.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “No Jim he’s right. It would be amazing to hold the very spear that pierced Christ’s side in your very own hands.”

  “Oh don’t tell me you’re hooked too.”

  Natalie smiled at her boss who rolled his eyes.

  “Jim?” Dennis said.

  Hutchinson picked his beer up and downed it. He banged the bottle back down onto the table.

  “Well it appears you two have made up your minds. A million euro’s eh? I must admit we could do with the money.”

  Natalie and Dennis were in his studio apartment where they had been since they’d got back that afternoon. It was nearly eleven o’clock and both were very tired and on strong coffee. They were expecting Hutchinson back soon. He had text messaged Natalie to say that his talk had finished and as soon as he could leave he would. At that time of night the taxi journey would take less than thirty minutes. His message had been received over an hour before.

  Dennis and Natalie had arrived back armed with every book they could buy or borrow from the nearest library with any reference to Jesus Christ in the index. Both having quickly showered they’d settled down to study. Both had a laptop each and had searched every link and pop up possible.

  Dennis was flicking through piles of mail and paper on his table in the lounge.

  “Darling have you seen that menu for the Chinese takeaway. I’m sure it was here the other day. You can’t mistake it. It’s got a large golden dragon on the front.”