The Lafayette Sword (23 page)

84

New York, Harlem

Present day

T
he Shrine Bar was crowded. Robinson had asked Marcas to have a drink with him at this popular night spot. It was hardly the best place to talk, considering all the noise, but Robinson wanted his brother from France to get the full Harlem vibe. Marcas grinned when he saw the sign: “Black United Fun Plaza,” and inside he took in all the African art and vintage album covers on the ceiling. He was inclined to order a beer, but Robinson prodded him to order the Afro Trip, a lime and ginger drink
with rum.

“You could use something stronger after the night you've had, my brother,
” he said.

Robinson had found them a spot in a corner, where they could hear themselves above the din, and as soon as their drinks arrived, Marcas pulled out the map he had found in t
he temple.

“Do you recognize this?”
he asked.

Robinson examined the map and nodded. “Yeah, I drew one just like it when I was in thi
rd grade.”

“What do
you mean?”

“Look. This is New York, with the Hudson River here and Manhattan over here. It's the first geography lesson kids in New
York get.”

“Are you saying that I flew all the way across the Atlantic for a kid's
drawing?”

Robinson shrugged. “Not really. Look, the paper is old. The edges are eaten away, and the ink is faded
in spots.”

“And?”

“And I can tell you where
the X is.”

“What X?”

“You need glasses, Frenchy
. That X.”

Marcas looked closer and saw the spot. “So whe
re is it?”

“Near the docks in
Brooklyn.”

Marcas stood up. “I've got to c
all Joan.”

“And wh
o's that?”

“You're going to meet her. L
et's go.”

He'd gotten Joan's call just in time to get to her building before she left with Marcas and the black cop. He eased into traffic behind the cop's car. She was a good soldier. A perfect Judas. Marcas had recounted his adventures, and she had told him exactly where Marcas had found the temple and the treasure that had been hidden for
so long.

He checked the rearview mirror and grinned. It was all going according to plan, except for the little junkie who had robbed Marcas. Jus
t a blip.

Yes, he wa
s the Elu.

He had worried when the curio shop closed its doors, but he'd seen the Masonic symbols on the abandoned building. Marcas was doing the wor
k for him.

He followed their car, keeping his distance. The chase was on. And his excitement wa
s growing.

85

Present day

Aurora Security to Aur
ora Source

Operation Chimera.
The target left Harlem with an unidentified black male. They picked up a woman at Washington Square. It appears that the trio is being followed by an
other car.

86

Brooklyn, New York

Present day

A
t this late hour, the docks should have been deserted, but there were trucks everywhere. Robinson called the station and found out that three cargo ships were unloading. Some of the warehouses were open, and apparently the unions had managed to get triple
overtime.

Robinson drove to a narrow strip of land abandoned to junkies and cormorants. From there he turned left and parked in front of two dark buildings, undoubtedly built at the end of the nineteenth century. Marcas was the first one out of the black Lincoln, followed by Joan and Robinson. Joan seemed tense. Marcas assumed she wasn't used to this kind of
adventure.

Robinson pulled out a lock-picking set, and in less than a minute he pushed the door of the first building open. The odor of mold struck them as they entered the dark space. Robinson swept the room with a flashlight. Old desks and chairs were scattered here and there, and yellowing posters hung on
the walls.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Robinson said. “These places are usually filled with drug addicts and squatters. But here, except for the smell, everything seems pretty well preserved. What exactly are we loo
king for?”

“I do
n't know.”

“Can somebody tell me the point of this little outing?” Joan said. “A secret that's traveled through the centuries and across the Atlantic with little old Lafayette as the gu
est star?”

Marcas turn
ed to her.

“Seriously,” she said. “You show up with this crazy story. I believe you, but if you want me to help, I need more inf
ormation.”

“She's right,” Robinson said, his back turned. He was rifling through papers on one of
the desks.

“You both know that I'm trying to find a man who's murdering Fr
eemasons.”

“Some anti-Freemason obsession,” Robi
nson said.

“That's what I thought at first, but the first victim, Paul de Lambre, didn't feel threatened because he was a Mason. He felt threatened because he was in on thi
s secret.”

“Like my father,” Joan said. Her face looked mor
e relaxed.

“Each of the four original Freemason brothers, including Lafayette, passed down a message with part of the puzzle and the name of one other member of the group. None of the descendants have ever had the whole thing or more than one other name. Right now we've got two names—Lafayette and Archambeau. Well, and a third: Cenevières, but we don't know what it is or who the present-day desce
ndant is.”

“Cenevières was the name written on the fragment my father left,”
Joan said.

“Each message also provides information regarding a hiding place,” Ma
rcas said.

“Like the temple in Harlem, where you found the box with the map?” Jo
an asked.

“Yes, each object leads to another place. In Paris, it was an engraved sword that led t
o Harlem.”

Joan walked over to Marcas. She was looking nervous again. “And you found only on
e object?”

Marcas hesitated. The truth could cause havoc, but he didn't want to alienate the lawyer. “The box did hold someth
ing else.”

Joan held
his gaze.

“Show her,” Robinson said. “She has as much right to know
as I do.”

Marcas reached into his jacket and held out
his hand.

Joan took it from him.
“That's—”

“Gold,” Ma
rcas said.

The ball was soft and pliable in
her hands.

“It's pure gold,”
she said.

“The alchemists' gold,” Mar
cas said.

In his car, more than ninety meters from the warehouse, he raised the volume. Technology was incredible. Joan had placed the microphone between those beautiful breasts of hers. But this was no time for erotic daydreaming. Marcas had fallen into the trap. It had been so easy, with the other fellow helping. He pulled out a cigarette a
nd lit up.

87

Nicolas Flamel's shop

March 21, 1355

T
he small group was rushing up the stairs when the front door splintered under the blows fro
m outside.

“Run, Flamel,” Tuz said. “I'll keep t
hem back.”

Flamel, Lady Perenelle, and their employee hurried into the attic, which had a window that opened to the next street over. Flamel opened it and helped his wife and worker onto the rooftops. The sound of swords and threats rose from the stairwell. He heard Tuz tumble into the bedroom beneath them and move a chest to block
the door.

“Whoever said being a scribe was dull?” Flamel shouted, hoping Tuz could hear him. “Get
up here!”

Tuz joined them, and they jumped out the window, joining Lady Perenelle and the worker. As they ran across the rooftops, Flamel saw Feublas stick his head out a window. He shouted insults but didn't fo
llow them.

They continued running, motivated by the clamor of the frightened crowd in the streets. Some three hundred meters away, the cries below died down. The group stopped and rested against a chimney. The nobleman dusted off his doublet, and Flamel put his arms around
his wife.

“I'm so sorry, my love,” he said. “Please forgive me. You are everything to me. That book is nothing, compared to your love. And as I told them where to find the book, they must have it by now. It's Go
d's will.”

Lady Perenelle wiped her eyes on her embroidered sleeve a
nd smiled.

“After the fight comes the cooing,” the baron said. “Let's not stay here. I see a ladder we can use to get down to the street. If we can get to Châtelet, a friend of mine will hide us until I can get you to my place. Between the English and that rascal Rhenac, your life isn't wo
rth much.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Fl
amel said.

The group arrived in an alley that smelled of burned wood and rotten garbage. They stopped at the Rue de la Neuvaine, which was
deserted.

“The Louvre garrison must have been alerted and gone out as backup. Those British are smart. They get in and out in a flash. Come on. My friend lives three blocks f
rom here.”

Flamel took his wife's hand and started following Tuz. But Lady Perenelle resisted. “No,”
she said.

Flamel gently tugged her. “There's no danger. Don't b
e afraid.”

She stood her ground. “I didn't tell you everything. I hid the book in a safe place so that it wouldn't destroy you. But I didn't understand. I realize now that God wants you to have the book. You'll be able to get
it back.”

88

Present day

Aurora Security to Aur
ora Source

Operation Chimera.
The target and the two others have entered a building on Coffey Street. I confirm that an unidentified individual is following them and is parked nearby. Request ins
tructions.

Aurora Source to Auror
a Security

Operation Chimera.
Continue observing. Do not
intervene.

89

Brooklyn, New York

Present day

R
obinson and Joan were searching the building for a clue, but Marcas just stared at the map. It was too old. It was older than the building itself, so if there was a hiding place it had to be in an earlier con
struction.

After forty-five minutes of searching, Robinson went out to his car to get another f
lashlight.

“Pay close attention to the walls,” Marcas said when they resumed
the hunt.

They found nothing but fragments of wallpaper where the offices had been and naked brick walls where the merchandise w
as stored.

“This is like finding a needled in a haystack,” Robi
nson said.

“Does anyone have a compass?” J
oan asked.

Robinson held out his keychain,
which did.

“‘The sun illuminates the initiated, but never straight on.' Isn't that the first sentence?” J
oan asked.

“That's right,” Robi
nson said.

“So let's look to the east, where the s
un rises.”

The compass needle pointed them north, and they turned to the right to face east. Old furniture was stacked against the wall. They headed over, and in a matter of minutes they managed to move it all out of the way. A garish mural covered the wall. Joan grabbed a corner and ripped off part of it. The plaster came off too, revealing a wall
of stones.

“Slow down,” Robinson sai
d. “Look.”

Just above the crumbled plaster was a circle surrounded by Roman letters. In the middle was a puffy-cheeked sun with go
lden rays.

“Here it is,” Joan said, jumping up
and down.

Robinson hugged her, and she started
laughing.

Marcas stood directly in front of the sun, ran his hand over it, an
d pressed.

“Watch out,” Joan
cried out.

Before he could respond, Marcas felt the floor give way. He barely had time to grab the edge of the trapdoor. Robinson seized his arm before he landed on a row of stakes and pull
ed him up.

“You need to follow instructions, dude. The sentence said ‘but never straight on' and you went and stood right in front of
the sun.”

Marcas crawled away from the hole and sat up. “Our brothers from another age didn't make this easy for us,” he said, catching h
is breath.

“You can say that again. Look,” Robinson said, pointing to
the left.

It wasn't just the floor that had opened up. The wal
l had too.

“The sun doesn't illuminate straight on, but to one side,” Ray said as he shone his flashlight on the fres
h doorway.

Robinson nodded to Marcas, and the three headed through the opening. In a matter of seconds they spotted a spiral staircase, which they started descending. When they reached the third step, the exit above th
em closed.

“Charming,” Ma
rcas said.

They went down the stairs in silence. The steps seemed to go deep into the bowels of
the earth.

“We must be a good thirty meters down,” Ma
rcas said.

Finally, they reached the last one. At the bottom there was a long narrow hallway that led
to a door.

“I'll go first,” Robinson said. “W
ait here.”

“Okay,” Marcas said. He looked over at Joan. She was fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt and still seeme
d anxious.

“What's wrong?”
he asked.

“I got it open,” R
ay yelled.

Joan didn't answer. She ran down th
e hallway.

Marcas followed. He caught up and stuck his head through the door. Joan was teetering on the edge of a
precipice.

“Ray, the light! Now! Before she falls,”
he yelled.

Joan
screamed.