The Sixth Key

by Adriana Koulias

  Rahn held in his annoyance and curiosity until he had told Deodat of his misadventures: his being locked in the boot of the Tourster; the man with his throat cut; the conversation with Grassaud at the hermitage; the Sator Square and what led them to Rennes-le-Château. He told him about the underground crypt; the desecration of the church; Madame Dénarnaud; the circle of abbés; the parchment; Saunière’s dealings with Association Angelica, the penitents and the Freemasons. He told him about Abbé Lucien, the anchor and the snake, and about the Serbians who accosted them and were killed for their efforts. He told him how they had managed to decode the parchment using the Vigenère Square and how the solution had led them to Saint-Just-et-le-Bézu, where they had found the second clue, which had brought them here to Coustassa. He also told him about the hearse and the black Citroën that had been following them.

  Deodat listened without interruption, nodding now and again as was his custom. When Rahn finished, Deodat was thoughtful for a long time before speaking. ‘Well, Rahn, you’ve exceeded my expectations. Well done! Capital job. Things are falling into place, everything you’ve told me coincides quite beautifully with what I have discovered.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Rahn said. His vexation was not mollified. ‘Are you telling me you weren’t kidnapped – that this has been an elaborate hoax?’

  ‘Let me start at the beginning. Yesterday morning, when we decided to rest before seeing Abbé Grassaud, there was a knock at the door. It was Inspecteur Beliere. He told me he had gone to Bugarach to see Mademoiselle Cros to ask her some questions about the abbé’s death. When he got there, he said the house was open and the maid was missing, as was the mademoiselle. Every room had been ransacked. It was obvious that whoever had done it was looking for something or someone, and the inspector said that he was very concerned for her safety, not to mention ours. He asked me what I knew about the mademoiselle. I told him we’d only just met on the day the abbé died. He then told me he was investigating La Cagoule because the police had been informed of a plot to assassinate the president and that there were various secret societies in the south involved. In light of this, I could no longer refrain from telling him about the list, and what we had discovered concerning Le Serpent Rouge and the key to completing it.’ Deodat’s eyes shone and his cheeks were flushed with exhilaration in recounting it. ‘And so I gave him the list, knowing full well that we had made another one. He wanted me to come with him and asked where you might be; I told him you had gone to Espéraza with the housekeeper and that I would leave you a note where to find me.’

  ‘That was the note?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you made it sound like you were kidnapped!’

  ‘And I was.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘You see, at this point I already knew that the inspector was suspect.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes, he was an imposter!’

  ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘After you went to bed I couldn’t rest. I had suspicions about Beliere, so I called the Paris judiciaire and they told me that a certain Beliere had been sent to Carcassonne. When I asked them to describe the man they said he was tall, rather thin and balding. As you know, this description does not fit with our short, squat, Inspecteur Beliere.’

  ‘But then, what made you think he wasn’t the real thing in first place?’

  ‘In all my years as a magistrate I have seen many inspectors, but I have never seen one who wears a suit that looks like it has been slept in—’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘But you haven’t let me finish, dear Rahn! A crumpled suit and the most brilliantly polished shoes. Such polarities and enigmas do draw my attention. I then remembered something, which you will recall I mentioned to you. He was in possession of a military . . .’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Le Francais Model 28. A revolver specifically designed for the French army.’

  ‘I still don’t see!’

  ‘Of course you wouldn’t. Only those who have some knowledge of guns, the army and the police would know. You see, the army and the police had both decided to pass on the design of that gun and none of those revolvers were ever taken into service. You will only find them in the hands of civilians nowadays.’

  ‘Remarkable!’ Rahn said.

  ‘Observation is paramount, Rahn, as Sherlock Holmes often tells Watson. Seeing is one thing, observing another! Now, once I knew he was not the same man who was sent here, I realised that he must have done away with the real Inspecteur Beliere and taken his place. So, I called the Carcassonne gendarmerie, as I wanted to know if the man had ever arrived at all, because this would tell me one of two things: if he never arrived then he must have been killed en route, and the police should be looking for him if they are not also in on it; if he had arrived and he was the real Inspecteur Beliere, he might be completely unware that another man was impersonating him. So I called and asked to know the whereabouts of our Inspecteur Beliere and they said he was not in . . . that he was on the way to an address – my address! When they gave me his description I knew.’

  ‘Oh!’ Rahn said. ‘Did you tell the police to come as soon as possible?’

  ‘No. Are you mad?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I didn’t know if I could trust them. At this stage I thought the gendarmes might be in on it too. So I went upstairs to wake you and to take you to the Tourster. But that blow to your head must have done more damage than we had estimated because you got up like a sleepwalker, and it took me quite a time to get you to the barn. By then I could hear the sound of cars coming. I told you to get into the trunk and, because you were in some ways like a person who is hypnotised, you did so without complaint and I closed the lid, but only slightly, just enough to make it seem closed. I thought when you woke up you could just push the trunk lid open to get out. I had no time to escape with you, you see, so I did what was necessary. You must play your cards as best you can when the stakes are high. I went round the back of the house then, and entered it by the back door, and in a moment our fake inspector was knocking at the front door. Well, I knew that in the trunk you were safe for the time being and, if it came to the worst – if they did away with me – you would find the key before they did!’

  ‘This is just like Sherlock Holmes in The Hound of the Baskervilles!’ La Dame said, looking on with admiration.

  Deodat sighed. ‘As Dagobert said to his hounds: “Sometimes even the best of friends must part if there is to be a hunt . . .” I knew that if you could just keep out of Beliere’s clutches, you would be safe.’

  ‘Why did you think that?’

  ‘Because your name was in Monti’s diary, that’s why! Monti being the man he was, he no doubt told others that you were the one who could find the key. You were tenet, as I said to you that night in my study: the lowest common denominator, the only one capable of finding what had been lost for hundreds of years. That’s why the groups looking for the treasure were not going to get in your way. In fact, it seems some groups were even willing to give up whatever clues they had to help you along, hoping that they would be the first to seize the treasure from your hands once you had found it for them.’

  ‘But what about you – what happened to you?’ Rahn asked.

  ‘That’s a long story too. To cut it short, they took me to Maison de Cros where I was detained in the wine cellar and that is where I finally met the real Inspecteur Beliere.

  ‘So what did he say to you?’ Rahn asked.

  ‘Not much actually, it’s difficult putting words together when you’re hanging by your neck from the rafters! At any rate I wasn’t there long. Last night I heard a commotion, some muffled sounds and this morning, the man who had been guarding my door seemed awfully quiet, so I ventured out carefully to take a look and found him sitting in the kitchen with his face in his dinner and his throat cut from ear to ear. That’s when I took the Citroën—’

  ‘The black Cit
roën!’ Rahn said, suddenly illuminated. ‘The one that had been parked outside the Maison de Cros!’

  ‘Exactly so.’

  ‘Then you’re the one who’s been following us?’

  ‘Yes – you see, last night the fake Beliere told me he knew you were at Rennes-le-Château, and he was going to fetch you so that he could take turns at torturing us into telling him what we knew. This morning when I escaped I went straight to Rennes-le-Château to find you but the police were already there. The problem was, I couldn’t tell if it was the fake Beliere, men working for him, or the actual police, so I waited outside the town. That’s how I saw you leaving with La Dame and the mademoiselle, headed for Couiza and the boulangerie. I sent the boy with the note but you didn’t get my clue, did you? The rebus.’

  ‘That was you? I thought your kidnappers made you write it. I feared they were becoming impatient and quite possibly about to cut off your nose or something equally as precious. Why didn’t you just come into the boulangerie, or write something simple, for instance: “I’m outside in the Citroën”?’

  ‘Because, dear Rahn, firstly, I knew you were being watched by those Serbians, so I wasn’t about to just walk in and announce myself; and secondly, I thought you’d be smart enough to instantly recognise the note as a warning from me about the mademoiselle. I had to make it enigmatic in case the note was intercepted or the girl got a hold of it. I thought you would have put two and two together to make four, but instead, once again, you’ve come up with twenty-two!’

  ‘Well, whatever the case, we gave you the slip!’

  ‘Yes you did, and a good chase it was, until I finally found you lying on the ground with a gun to your head. So I did the only thing I could do. I shot those men.’

  ‘That was you? You’re a crack shot, Deodat!’ La Dame effused.

  Deodat gave him a sideways glance. ‘Luckily, that Citroën came fully equipped with a virtually brand new Mosin-Nagant carbine rifle, with a scope mount, no less – any sniper would have been proud. A marvellous weapon for a hunt. It’s the latest technology and deadly accurate, as those men found out.’

  ‘I didn’t know you could shoot like that!’ Rahn said.

  ‘Why not? Have you forgotten how we ate when we were potholing? Those rabbits don’t grow on trees, you know. At any rate, after that I lost you for a small time and caught up with you again on the road back from Saint-Just-et-le-Bézu when you were behind that hearse! That was a clever manoeuvre, Rahn, quite ingenious. After that I drove around Granes looking for you and found your car in a side street. I waited and followed you here to Coustassa and now I have something to tell you . . . but first, where is she?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Mademoiselle Cros, or should I say – Mademoiselle Fleury!’

  ‘What?’ Rahn said. This hunt had more twists and turns than the Gorges of Galamus! ‘Fleury?’ He looked about him in the darkness and at that moment he heard the sound of the door to the church closing. Rahn took himself down the nave but by the time he was at the door he could hear the Peugeot starting and before he could reach her, she had taken off.

  ‘Don’t tell me you left the keys in the car, Rahn!’ It was Deodat beside him.

  ‘Why would she do that?’ Rahn stood in the deathly cold feeling perplexed, watching as the tail-lights of the auto disappeared into the rain and fog.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ Deodat said.

  ‘What did you mean by “Fleury”?’ Rahn looked at him, feeling a wave of vertigo and a sudden reviving of that bee in his ear.

  ‘I found out from Beliere – or whatever his name is – that she is a direct relative of Gabriele Fleury, daughter of Marie de Nègre Hautpoul-Blanchefort! Marie Blanchefort had three daughters: Elisabeth, Gabriele and Mary. From what you say, she chose to leave her inheritance in the hands of Abbé Bigou instead. The mademoiselle is after what she feels is rightfully hers – the treasure of the Cathars.’ He paused. ‘Now I think she’s realised that she is in way over her head and, if she’s smart, she’ll keep driving all the way to Italy.’

  ‘And we were almost close,’ La Dame said, wistfully.

  ‘Oh that’s right, you’re here,’ Deodat bemoaned, turning to him.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to see you too, Deodat,’ La Dame said. ‘So, what now?’

  ‘Well,’ Rahn said, ‘the parchment clue in this church is missing, so, unless we can figure out what JCKAL means, we have nothing to go on. Besides, you’re alive, Deodat, and now the imperative to find the treasure is no longer there.’

  ‘What nonsense!’ Deodat retorted.

  ‘But we’ve hit a dead end!’ Rahn countered.

  ‘Have we? I don’t believe so . . .’ Deodat said, happily, looking like the cat that swallowed the goldfish. ‘I think you were right about the list, ingeniously right. Think for a moment. There are five churches on the list; why is that, when there should be six?’

  Rahn looked at Deodat’s darkly lit face. ‘Because Cros hadn’t found the parchment at Saint-Just-et-le-Bézu!’

  ‘Exactly so! Let’s go over it: Cros knew of the parchment at Rennes-le-Château and I think this Abbé Gélis you mentioned must have found the parchment hidden in this church and he either sold it or gave it to Cros. And I don’t think Cros gave it to the Bishop of Carcassonne; I feel certain of that. He kept it and made it his life’s task to find the rest of the parchments. That would explain his obsession with puzzles. Now, the original parchment, he knew, was at Rennes-le-Château, that’s one church; there was the parchment he didn’t find at Saint-Justet-le-Bézu, that’s the second church; this was the third church, Coustassa; so that leaves three more. Each parchment led to another. But here’s the interesting part – years ago, Cros and I had a discussion on the tarot; remember I mentioned that to you before, Rahn? He was looking for information regarding the pope card. I remember it because it was so unusual. I gave him Éliphas Levi’s book and he kept it for months. This is connected to it – I’m certain of it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well, in my estimation, the family Perillos chose a circle of churches that were close enough for the priests to know one another, then they created an elaborate cipher and the master word to solving it was hidden in a painting by Poussin. The first church, Saunière’s church, contained the original parchment given to Bigou by Marie de Hautpoul-Blanchefort on her deathbed. This parchment revealed the second church in which a second parchment revealed the third church and so on. Ingenious really! And if the chain was broken, it could be picked up at another point along the line, simply by understanding the rule.’

  ‘What rule?’

  ‘In every case the parchment was hidden in a church in which there could be found some connection, even if slight, to the tarot. Rennes-le-Château has its devil, the fifteenth card; Saint-Just-et-le-Bézu its goddess, the twenty-first card; and this church, Coustassa, has two pillars on either side of the altar, which to me signifies Joachim and Boaz, the second card. And I realise only now why Cros wanted Éliphas Levi’s book. I believe that something in the parchment in this church must have led to the church at Rennes-les-Bains.’

  ‘Why Rennes-les-Bains?’ La Dame asked.

  ‘Rennes-les-Bains has a painting depicting a pope straight out of the tarot, which signifies the fifth card.’

  ‘Madame Dénarnaud also mentioned the tarot!’ Rahn said. A thought occurred to him. ‘What about Saint-Paul-de-Fenouillet?’

  ‘The hermitage, Rahn; it signifies the ninth card – the hermit.’

  ‘So, all the churches are on the list except for Saint-Just-et-le-Bézu, because Cros had never had the first parchment that led to it?’ La Dame said.

  ‘Yes, even you, La Dame, could figure that out!’

  ‘But you’ve said nothing about that other church – Espéraza,’ La Dame pointed out.

  ‘I don’t think that was one of the churches,’ Deodat said to him.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Rahn said.

  ‘I believe Cros may have thought i
t was one of them, but in the end, he realised it wasn’t.’

  Rahn shook his head. ‘How on Earth do you know that?’

  ‘I’ll have to tell you how I came to my conclusion on our way.’

  ‘On our way to where?’ La Dame lamented.

  ‘Get in the Citroën, it’s over there – tempus fugit, tempus fugit!’

  43

  And the First Shall be the Last

  ‘There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.’

  Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, ‘The Boscombe Valley Mystery’

  En route, Deodat told Rahn and La Dame of his discovery. Rahn drove the Citroën through the falling sleet, listening to Deodat. The night was dark and the road ahead was wet and barely lit by the headlamps.

  ‘I have to start at the beginning. Yesterday morning, before Beliere came calling, and even before I had called the Paris judiciaire, I kept thinking there was something we had missed on the list . . . something obvious and yet elusive. I kept looking at it and eventually I figured out the same thing you did, Rahn: the initials were incorrect. When I put them together, I came to the same word . . . JCKAL. Now I can tell you what JCKAL has to do with it, but before I do so, I’ll begin by explaining how I came to my conclusion. It’s quite complicated and I can’t prove it, not until we get to the church at Bugarach.’

  Rahn could hear La Dame sighing in the back and striking a match to light his Cuban. ‘My mind boggles,’ he said.

  ‘Well, La Dame, this should be right up your street, considering it’s all about numbers. In fact it has to do with gematria.’

  ‘Gematria! I know it: the study of numbers in connection with letters? Hebrew, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right, you are good for something besides womanising and chalking in cave markings.’

  ‘Are you never going to let me forget that?’ La Dame said, sounding dejected.

  ‘Never. Now, as I was saying, in the Hebrew mystical tradition, gematria is the secret of numbers. A text can be discovered through its connection to numbers because each letter has a numerical value, and the combination of letters has an esoteric significance. Now, in the wine cellar I had time to think about the word that Cros gave us – sator. In Hebrew, sator is made up of these letters: samech, which is sixty; vau, which is six; resh, which is two hundred; and tau, which is four hundred.’