The Granite Key (Arkana Mysteries) (4 page)

Chapter 8
– Digesting The Information

Much later that same evening, a familiar group of four people gathered together in Faye’s kitchen. The mood was somewhat less grim than that of their last meeting as the old woman bustled about fixing them a midnight repast.

“Despite the lateness of the hour, I’m glad you were all able to join me to discuss Erik’s latest findings,” she said as she passed out platters of cold cuts and bread.

The Security Coordinator started building himself a three-decker club sandwich. He didn’t need any further encouragement from Faye to launch into his report to the group. “You were right, Maddie, it was them.”

“And you’re surprised that they were behind it all along?” The red-haired woman blew a smoke ring into the air. She rose to help Faye bring a tray of cups and saucers to the table.

“At first I wasn’t sure. It didn’t fit how they’ve operated in the past.” Erik bit into his sandwich. “Besides, they aren’t where we expected them to be.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, dear,” Faye corrected gently as she poured coffee.

Griffin
passed the cups around the table. “Where we expected them to be? It isn’t as though we encounter these people everyday. When was the last time our path crossed theirs, Faye?”

“Long before you came to join us. About ten years ago, I think.” Faye sat down and stirred cream into her coffee. “Much can change in a decade.”

“Then I suppose it’s to be expected. Why shouldn’t they have relocated their headquarters?”
Griffin
directed his question to Erik.

Erik dutifully swallowed his bite of sandwich before speaking. “Because they don’t exactly travel light, that’s why. You should have seen this place. It looked like they’re starting to build their own city.”

Maddie scowled. “Bad news for our side.”

Faye moved on to a more urgent topic. “What about this fellow who broke into Sybil’s apartment? You said you don’t think he’s one of theirs.”

“Not likely,” Erik laughed. “He was wearing a cowboy hat.”

“Did you get a good look at him?” asked Maddie.

“Not great. It was dark and he was getting into his truck but I saw enough to put together a sketch. And I got his license plate number.”

“Well, that’s a start.” Maddie walked over to the counter for a bag of chocolate chip cookies. She brought them back to the table. “Did you have a chance to check out the plates before we got here?”

“Yeah,” Erik hesitated. “It was a rental. I found out it was leased to a guy named Matt Dillon.”

Maddie and Faye both laughed. “Our villain has a sense of humor,” the old woman observed.

Griffin
looked confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Never mind, old chap,” Erik said in an exaggerated British accent. “I guess you lot didn’t get Gunsmoke over the pond.”

“Gunsmoke over the pond?” Now
Griffin
looked completely lost. “What on earth is he talking about?”

Maddie patted
Griffin
reassuringly on the back. “Nothing important. It’s just an old TV series. What we Yanks would call a horse opera. You know, shoot ‘em up stuff. Cowboys and Indians.”

“How very extraordinary,”
Griffin
remarked, helping himself to a cookie.

“And what about Cassie?” Faye asked.

Erik decided to skip the cookies and dipped into a bag of potato chips instead. “Today I trailed her from her dorm to Sybil’s apartment. It was already dark when she got there. I waited for her to go up in the elevator before I followed.
 
I was just getting off on the fourth floor when I saw this guy come tearing out of Sybil’s place and head straight for the stairwell. He didn’t see me. I ran inside the apartment to check that Cassie was OK. That he hadn’t hurt her.” Erik looked around the table at the others. Their faces were troubled. He continued. “But she was just shook up. Lucky for us, she actually saw what he took.”

At these words, they all stopped eating. A captive audience.

“Yes?”
Griffin
prompted.

“She said it was a five-sided ruler with markings on it.”

“A what?” Maddie sounded suspicious.

Even Faye was taken aback. “
Griffin
, do you have any idea what she meant?”

“No, I’ve never heard of such a thing. Sybil never mentioned a find like that to me.”

“We’ve been very careful to keep away from anything that they might consider interesting,” Faye mused to herself. “Sybil knew that. She wouldn’t deliberately go after a recovery if there was any chance they might want it too.”

“If it’s ours, then we get it back,” Erik stated matter-of-factly, popping open a can of soda.

“No dear, we don’t.” Faye sighed. “If we lose a valuable find, then we lose a valuable find. It’s far more important for us to protect our anonymity.”

“So we let them kill one of ours and take something that belongs to us?” Maddie’s eyes were blazing with indignation. “Again?”

Faye glanced at her sadly. “Yes, I’m afraid we must. It seems like the last straw but we can’t retaliate. There’s too much at stake here to risk exposure.”

“I suppose.” Maddie relented slightly. “What about the kid? Do we tell her anything?”

Faye folded her hands on the table, regarding her guests gravely. “Sybil died to protect our secret. We owe her a great debt. She always said she wanted to keep Cassie safe.”

“By safe you mean in the dark?” Erik asked, a slight edge of sarcasm in his voice.

“‘
If ignorance is bliss, ‘twere folly to be wise
,’” Faye observed softly. “I believe we have an obligation to respect Sybil’s wishes.”

The group was silent for a few moments, mulling over the old woman’s decision. When the phone rang suddenly, they all jumped. It wasn’t the phone on the wall, but a cell phone lying on the kitchen counter.

Griffin
looked puzzled. ”Who would be calling you at this hour and on that line?”

“Guess we’re gonna find out.” Erik reached over and handed the phone to Faye so she wouldn’t have to struggle to her feet.

She nodded her thanks to him. “Hello?”

There was a long pause.

“Why, yes, of course you may.”

Another pause.

“Oh, I think it’s much too late tonight. You’d never find your way here in the dark. How about tomorrow at noon?”

Faye then gave her address and detailed directions to her house.

“Fine, I’ll see you then. We’ll have much to talk about.” She laid the phone down on the table. A look of bewilderment crossed her face.

The other three stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

Faye wordlessly got up and started to make another pot of coffee.

“Faye?” Maddie prompted. “Are you all right?”

“Hmmm?” Faye turned absently toward her guests. “Well, as I was saying, I believe we have an obligation to respect Sybil’s wishes to keep Cassie away from this business.”

“Yes…” Erik nudged her along.

She looked around at their baffled faces. “I just never expected her to change her mind—posthumously.”

Chapter 9
– Lost In Translation

The morning after he acquired the key, Abraham was waiting for a visitor in his prayer closet. He called it a closet but the dimensions were the size of an average living room. It was the space where he conversed directly with God. Heavy drapes barred the passage of sunlight through the room’s two tall windows. Abraham liked cloaking the closet in shadow. It helped his concentration. There was an oak stand between the windows which supported a heavy leather-bound Bible.
 
The wall to the right of the windows consisted of a series of built-in cabinets with locked doors. They contained sacred documents that were intended for his eyes only. A prie-dieu occupied the corner to the left of the windows. In a rare concession to comfort, the kneeler was padded. On another wall hung the portrait of an elderly man with a white beard. He bore a strong resemblance to Abraham but the cut of his suit hadn’t been in fashion for at least fifty years. His eyes stared down on the room. They were humorless and disapproving. A plaque embedded in the bottom of the picture frame announced that he was Joshua Metcalf
—
Diviner. Positioned directly below the picture was a small round table and two hard-bottomed chairs.

Abraham was leafing through some pages of the Bible when he heard a gentle knock on the door. He absently said, “Enter,” without looking up from the page he was reading.

A man of about thirty came in. He was of medium height. Although his hair was cropped short, it insisted on asserting its curliness. No amount of combing could straighten it out completely. His eyes were dark brown behind horn-rimmed glasses, his complexion sallow. He wore the usual white dress shirt, black tie and black trousers but the clothes didn’t seem to fit him properly. They seemed too big for his slight frame and rumpled even though they had been newly pressed. His shoulders sagged.

“Good morning, Father,” he said tentatively. “You wanted to see me?”

Abraham turned toward his guest. “Yes, that’s right. Sit down, Daniel.” He indicated one of the two chairs.

The visitor glanced up briefly at the portrait before he slid into his chair. He sat forward anxiously, his hands grasping the seat.

Abraham remained standing near the windows. “Daniel, remind me again which of my sons you are.”

The younger man didn’t seem to consider the question odd. “I am your twentieth son, Father,” he answered readily.

“And which of my wives is your mother?”

“My mother is Deborah, your fifth wife,” Daniel looked down, “though she has passed from this life.”

The older man’s expression was vague. “Hmmm, yes, I do seem to recall now. She’s been departed, what is it, nearly two years? Never mind boy. She has gone to wait for me in the next world.
 
We will be reunited there. How many wives do you have now?”

Daniel cleared his throat uncomfortably. “You have blessed me with three wives, Father.”

Abraham looked pleased with himself. “That’s a good start though some of your brothers at the same age have collected more.” He paused to consider. “Still it’s a good start. And how many children?”

Daniel seemed to be fighting the urge to squirm in his chair. “Three so far.”

“Three?” Abraham registered shock. “Are any of your wives barren?”

“N…no, I don’t think so, Father.” Daniel stared hard at the table.

Abraham took a pace or two forward. “And when did I give you your first wife?”

“When I was twenty,” Daniel mumbled.

“Ten years,” Abraham mused. “In ten years your wives have only produced three children. That’s unheard of!”

Daniel shifted his position slightly. “I’m sorry, Fa
—
”

The old man cut him off. “We are charged with the obligation to be fruitful and multiply—to extend His dominion over the earth. We must increase our numbers. You cannot hope to claim a place of glory in His kingdom otherwise. Surely, you don’t wish to bring shame on your family.”

Daniel shrunk back in his seat.

Abraham was standing above his son now. “Remember who is watching.” He gestured toward the portrait. “Your grandfather is watching you even now from heaven. God, himself, is watching you.” He paused for effect. “He is watching us all. He sees the secret sins of our innermost hearts, Daniel. He sees all and he will punish all!”

Daniel gulped and nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand. I will pray for more issue.”

“And instruct your wives to pray as well!” Abraham observed his son silently for a few moments. He seemed satisfied that he had made his point. “Good, that’s settled then.”

Metcalf walked to the wall cabinets. He took a brass key out of his pocket. “I am told you are quite the scholar. You have distinguished yourself above your brothers in the study of ancient languages.”

Daniel seemed to puff up a bit at the encouragement. “Yes, it is the subject I love above all others. Translating the word of God.”

“That shows a proper spirit,” Metcalf nodded approvingly. “Come here, I have something to show you.”

Daniel obediently walked over to join him.

Abraham unlocked one of the cabinets and withdrew the stone ruler. “What can you make of this?” the old man inquired, handing the object to his son.

Daniel held it up to the meager light coming through the windows. He examined the markings with great intensity. When he looked up again, his expression was one of dismay. “The script isn’t Aramaic, or Hebrew, or Greek, or Latin. Not even Egyptian judging by the pictograms.” Daniel now seemed a bit afraid of the ruler. He held it out toward his father as if he thought it was contaminated. “This is some heathen relic.”

Abraham made no move to take the object back. He stood with his arms folded across his chest. “Yes I know, Daniel, but the Lord has charged me with the task of finding out its secrets. And now I charge you with the task of translating these strange markings into some language that a Christian can understand.”

The young man scrutinized the pictures and lines and loops again. “Do we know where it comes from?” he asked tentatively.

“Only that it was found somewhere in the east and that it is very ancient.”

Daniel thought of something that caused a look of apprehension to cross his face.

“What is it, my son?”

“Well, it’s just that we have nothing in our library that could explain this. Do I have your permission to go into the Fallen Lands? I will need to search in their libraries. Because it is pagan, they may have records that show what language it is.”

Abraham sighed. “My heart is heavy at the thought of sending you into their world. So many temptations. So much you have never been prepared for. But it is God’s will that this be so.” Abraham’s eyes bored into his son’s face. “Daniel, you must find a way to translate this. Everything depends upon it. Do you understand?”

Daniel gulped. “Yes, Father, I will find a way.”