Necropolis (18 page)

Richard moved forward. "Do you live here?" he asked.

'Yes. I'm the housekeeper. Are you friends of Scarlett's?"

"Not exactly," Matt said. "We've just arrived from America. We were hoping to see her."

"That's not going to be possible. She's going to be out of the country for a while."

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

"It could be a week or two. I'm very sorry, if you'd been here just a few hours ago, you'd have caught her. Do you want to leave a message?"

"No, thank you."

"Right."

The woman closed the door.

And that was it. There was nothing more to be done. For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Richard sighed.

"Anyone fancy a trip to Hong Kong?" he said.

FOURTEEN

Puerto Fragrante

Originally, there had been twelve members of the Nexus — the organization that existed only to fight the Old Ones. Professor Sanjay Dravid had been the first to be killed, stabbed at the Natural History Museum the same night that he had met Matt. Later on, a man named Fabian had also died. That just left ten — powerful people who lived all over the world.

They had all flown in to meet Matt and Jamie and at half past seven that evening, they came together in the secluded, wood-paneled room that was their London base.

The building, which the Nexus owned, stood between two shops, and there was nothing, no name or other marking, to suggest that it was anything but a private house. The room itself, up on the first floor, was equally plain. It could have been the meeting place of some small business, perhaps a firm of expensive lawyers. There didn't seem to be much there —just a long table with thirteen antique chairs, a handful of telephones and a computer, and a lot of clocks showing the time all over the world. But the glass door that slid open automatically and then hissed shut, sealing itself as the ten men and women came in, suggested that there might be more to the place than met the eye. A sophisticated camera blinked quietly in the corridor. The Nexus arrived one at a time, each one entering a different six-digit code before they were allowed in.

Matt wasn't looking forward to seeing them again. He knew that they were supposed to be on his side, but even so, he felt a certain dread entering the room. It was like facing ten head teachers at the same time, knowing he was about to be expelled. There were only two people there who he felt he knew. He had met Susan Ashwood, the medium, at her home near Manchester, and although he had thought she was completely mad, at least he was fairly sure that her heart was in the right place. And he had gotten to know Nathalie Johnson in the past few months. She was the American computer billionaire who had helped Scott and Jamie, and she had traveled down to Nazca a couple of times to make sure they were all right.

But that still left eight strangers. There was an Australian, broad and bullish with a round face and close-cropped hair. His name was Harry Foster and he owned a newspaper empire. Next to him, there was a bishop who dressed like a bishop and talked like a bishop but who hadn't actually told Matt his name. He was about sixty years old. Tarrant, the senior policeman who had helped put taps on Scarlett's phone, was at the head of the table, dressed in a smart blue-and-silver uniform.

Among the others, Matt had noted a Frenchman in an expensive suit, a small Chinese man who was continually rubbing his hands, a German who was something big in politics, and two others who had made no impression on him at all. They might all be world leaders. But tonight they just looked tired and scared.

Richard, Jamie, and Matt had taken their places at the table, bunched together at one end. The three of them were in a gloomy mood. Every word that they spoke, every second that passed, only carried Scarlett Adams farther away from them.

"We made a mistake." Nathalie Johnson came straight to the point. "We knew who she was. We knew where she lived. We should have approached her ourselves."

"It was my fault," Susan Ashwood said. "I didn't want to frighten her. I thought it would be easier for her if she heard it all from you." She turned to Matt. "I hoped you'd be here sooner. I didn't realize we'd have to wait for the new passports."

"I thought you had people watching her," Matt cut in. "Weren't there two private detectives or something?"

"They were ex-policemen," Tarrant said. "Duncan and McKnight. Good men, both of them. I've worked with them before." He paused. "Scarlett may have caught sight of them. They were parked in a car outside a park in Dulwich and they had to be more careful after that. They kept their distance. But they were still on top of the case. Until last night…"

"What happened?" Richard asked.

"They've both disappeared. Vanished without a trace. I've tried to contact them, but I haven't had any luck. I have a feeling they may have been killed."

There was a brief silence while the rest of the room took this in. It was obvious to all of them that they had underestimated the Old Ones. From the moment Scarlett had been identified, they had been running rings around the Nexus.

"So why has she gone to Hong Kong?" Matt asked.

"Her father is there," Tarrant replied. "He's a lawyer. He works for the Nightrise Corporation."

"Nightrise?" Jamie spoke for the first time. Jet lag had hit him badly, and he was exhausted. He'd only managed to .keep himself awake with a black coffee and a can of Red Bull. "They're the people who came after Scott and me. Are you saying her dad is one of them?"

"Nightrise is a legitimate business," Nathalie Johnson reminded him. "They have offices all over the world. They employ thousands of people. The vast majority of them probably have no idea who — or what — they're working for."

"Still —"

"We don't know, Jamie. His name is Paul Adams. He's divorced. He and his wife adopted Scarlett fifteen years ago, and as far as we can tell, he doesn't know anything about the Old Ones."

"So what do we do now?" Richard asked. "Scott and Pedro are still in Peru. Matt and Jamie are here.

And Scarlett will soon be in Hong Kong. The one thing we know is that we have to get the five Gatekeepers together. How are we going to do that?"

"You may have to follow her there."

It was the bishop who had spoken, and the other members of the Nexus nodded. But for his part, Matt wasn't so sure. He knew nothing about the city except that some of the toys he'd played with when he was younger had been manufactured there, made in hong kong

. It had always been a sign that they would probably break five minutes after they came out of the packaging. Certainly, he had no desire to go there. He had flown enough for one week.

"If I may…" The Chinese man had a soft, very cultivated voice. He hadn't spoken until now. He was small, with heavy, plastic glasses and an off-the-rack suit. Perhaps he adopted this sort of appearance on purpose. It was as if he didn't want to be noticed. "My name is Mr. Lee," he said, bowing his head toward Matt. "If you are thinking of making the journey to Hong Kong, I may be able to help you. I have connections throughout Asia, especially in that area. However, I would like to make one observation if I may."

He waited for someone to speak against him, as if he was nervous that there might be someone at the table who didn't want to hear what he had to say. When nobody protested, he went on.

"There is something very strange happening in Hong Kong," he began. "I know the place well. In fact, I was there — passing through —just a week ago. On the face of it, there is nothing I can put my finger on. Life continues as normal. Business is done. Tourists arrive and leave. But there is something in the city that makes no sense. How can I put it? There is an atmosphere there that is not pleasant. Friends of mine who live there, people I have known for many years, seem to be in a hurry to leave, and when I ask them why, they are afraid to say. Those who remain are nervous."

"The Old Ones are there," Susan Ashwood said, as if she had known all along. She worked as a medium, talking to ghosts. Matt wondered if they had told her.

"That is what I believe, Miss Ashwood," Mr. Lee agreed. "It is hardly a coincidence. Nightrise is based in Hong Kong. It is quite possible that much of the city is now in the control of the Old Ones. And if that is the case, then the moment this girl, Scarlett Adams, arrives there, it will be as if she is in prison, and none of us will be able to reach her."

"We have to reach her," Richard said. "If we don't, we might as well all pack up. There have to be five Gatekeepers."

Mr. Lee nodded. "Then we have to get her out of there — and that means following her. We have failed here in London. Maybe Matthew and Jamie will have more success over there."

'You want to send the two of them to Hong Kong?"

"They have certain powers, Mr. Cole, which may be of use to them," Mr. Lee said. "In my opinion, they must find a way to enter the city, but without the Old Ones knowing they are on their way."

"The two of them traveled here with false names and false ID," Tarrant said. He sounded disapproving.

"They can use them again."

"Absolutely." The Australian, Harry Foster, banged a fist on the table. "They could be on the next flight out of here. There must be fifty thousand people a day flying in and out of Hong Kong. Who's going to notice a couple of kids in a crowd like that?"

"I don't agree." Susan Ashwood shook her head. "If Mr. Lee is correct and the Old Ones are there, it would be complete madness to attempt to go in by air.

Matt and Jamie would be seized the moment they stepped off the plane — I don't care how many people there are at the airport."

"I have an office in Hong Kong," Harry Foster said. "I could look in there on my way back to Australia.

Why don't you let me try to find her? I can explain what's going on and she — and her father, for that matter — can leave with me. I'll take them down to Sydney, and you can pick them up there."

"I think it's too dangerous," Mr. Lee said.

"Well, at least I can get a message to her. Let her know the score." The Australian took out a pad and scribbled a note to himself. "A letter to warn her that she's in danger. I can get someone in my Hong Kong office to deliver it by hand."

"I think we have to be very careful," Susan Ashwood said. "We all know what happened today. The Old Ones were waiting outside her house in Dulwich. They knew Matt was on his way and they were determined to stop him." She glanced at Tarrant. 'You had two men watching Scarlett, and now you say they may have been killed. How many more mistakes do we have to make before we realize what we're up against?"

"Then maybe it's time to use one of the doors," Richard said.

He had the diary and he slid it onto the table in front of him. All ten members of the Nexus stared at it.

Only a few months before, they had been prepared to spend two million pounds to get their hands on it, and here it was, right in front of them. They wanted to reach out and touch it. And yet at the same time, they were afraid of it, as if it was a snake that might bite.

"I've been trying to work this out ever since Ramon brought it to us," Richard went on. "I've read bits of it, though I won't pretend I've understood very much…even with a Spanish dictionary and a magnifying glass. But there is one thing we do know: Twenty-five doors were built around the world for the Gatekeepers to use. They all connect with each other and they can all be found in sacred places. One of them is in St. Meredith's. When Matt went through it, it took him directly to the Abbey of San Galgano in Tuscany."

"Scott and I found one of the doors in a cave at Lake Tahoe," Jamie added. "It took us to the Temple of Coricancha in Cuzco, Peru."

"That's four of them," Richard said. "But there are twenty-one more, and our friend, the mad monk, may have helped us. He's made a list…"

He unfastened the diary and opened it, laying it flat so that everyone could see. Everyone leaned forward. There was a very detailed map covering two pages, drawn in different colors of ink. It was just about recognizable as the world, although a world seen by a child with only a basic knowledge of geography. America was the wrong shape, and it was too close to Europe. Australia was upside down.

Joseph of Cordoba had used more care decorating his work. He had sketched in little ships, crossing the various oceans with their sails unfurled. Insect-size animals poked out of the different landmasses, helping to identify them. There was a tiger in India, a dragon in China and, at the North Pole, what could have been a polar bear.

"I don't know how much you know about old maps," Richard said, "but for what it's worth, I studied them a bit at university. I did politics and geography. This one is fairly typical of the sixteenth century.

That was a time when maps were becoming more important. Henry VIII was one of the first monarchs to realize how much they could give away about a country's defenses. And everyone was using them to steal everyone else's trade routes. You see these little bags here?" He took out a pencil and pointed.

"They're probably bags of spice. Joseph may have drawn them to represent the Spice Islands because that was what everyone wanted."

"There are stars," Jamie said.

They were scattered all over the pages — the five-pointed stars that he and Matt knew so well.

"That's right. There are twenty-five of them — one for each door. The only trouble is, like a lot of the maps being drawn at the time, this one isn't very accurate. As far as I can make out, there seem to be doors in London, Cairo, Istanbul, Delhi, Mecca, Buenos Aires, and somewhere in the outback of Southern Australia. There's one here, close to the South Pole. But the world's changed quite a lot in five hundred years, and trying to identify the exact locations isn't going to be easy."

'You mentioned a list," Tarrant said.

'Yes…" Richard turned a page, and sure enough, there was a long row of names, all of them in tiny handwriting. "The problem we've got here is that the names don't quite match up with the modern places, and half of them are in Spanish. Here's one, for example: Muerto de Maria. It took me half the night to work that one out."