TW02 The Timekeeper Conspiracy NEW (15 page)

"It was dark. I'm afraid I didn't get a very good look at them. I couldn't say if I'd recognize them again."

"Well, no matter. I want you to take a letter to my good friend, the cardinal. After all, he has an interest in the Buck-ingham affair and it's time to prod him into the next stage of our operation."

The carriage pulled up in front of the tavern on the outskirts of Paris. It was accompanied by a small troop of mounted guards. Rochefort dismounted and entered the tavern, fol-lowed by several of the guards. Two of them stationed them-selves outside the front door. Another two grabbed the be-wildered, suddenly frightened innkeeper and frogmarched him into the kitchen, where they stayed with him and the other help. Rochefort glanced around the tavern, seeing that he was quite alone. There was the sound of a door opening above him and he heard a soft footfall. His rapier sang free of its scab-bard. He looked up and saw Milady de Winter standing at the railing above him, looking down.

"There is no one else here except my man," she said.

"Milady," Rochefort said. He crossed the room and went to the door, opening it and nodding at someone in the car-riage. A man in a dark, long cloak and buff riding boots stepped out. He wore a large, slightly droopy hat pulled low over his face. He walked quickly to the front door of the tavern and entered. Rochefort stood aside to let him pass, bowing slightly as he did.

Once inside, the man removed his well-worn gloves and hat, revealing himself as a gray-haired, distinguished-looking gentleman of about thirty-six or thirty-seven years with pierc-ing eyes, a prominent nose, and a sharply pointed imperial goatee surmounted by long, curled moustaches. He glanced up to see Milady de Winter descending the stairs toward him.

"This penchant of yours for mysterious, out-of-the-way assignations grows somewhat tiresome, Milady," he said, tossing his hat and gloves onto a table. "You did say it was im-portant."

"I've come by some information that I believe you'll find to your advantage, Your Eminence," said Taylor, smiling at the cardinal.

"Why could this information not have been passed on to Rochefort?" Richelieu said, pulling out a chair for Milady to sit down.

"Because I don't like dealing with intermediaries," Taylor said, smiling as Rochefort stiffened. "I must be careful. I'm sure you appreciate that."

"I will tell you if I appreciate it after I have heard what you have to say," said Richelieu. "Our last contact brought less than satisfactory results."

"I cannot be blamed for Buckingham's escape," said Taylor. "I brought you all the necessary information. It was not my fault that your men were not up to the task."

"You did not tell me that he would be guarded by the musketeers," said Richelieu.

"I cannot know everything, Your Eminence. Obviously, your own informant was somewhat derelict in his duties."

"My own informant?"

"Did you not arrange to have Monsieur Bonacieux report to you concerning the activities of his wife?"

Richelieu raised his bushy eyebrows. "For one who claims that she cannot know everything, you are remarkably well in-formed, Milady. It occurs to me that you would make a very useful ally. Or a very dangerous antagonist."

"I will take that as a compliment, Your Eminence," said Taylor.

"It was not intended as one, Milady. What new information have you brought me? If it proves useful, you will not find me ungenerous."

"It concerns Milord, the Duke of Buckingham, Your Emi-nence."

"By now, he's back in London and well out of reach," said Richelieu. "He's had his assignation with the queen and made good his escape. I have lost my opportunity. Of what interest would he be to me now?"

"Well, he is still an enemy of France, Your Eminence, and I should think that any intelligence regarding an enemy would be welcome."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"And so you shall be. Buckingham has, indeed, returned to England. But he did not return empty-handed."

"What do you mean?''

"I have reason to believe that the queen gave him something to take back with him. A token, a pledge of her affections."

"This is not news to me," said Richelieu, "although I am surprised that you should know of it. The queen gave Buck-ingham a dozen diamond studs, which were a gift from Louis. Indiscreet, perhaps, but hardly incriminating. She could easily claim that they were lost or stolen or make up some other plausible excuse to explain their disappearance."

"True," said Taylor. "But suppose, just for a moment, Your Eminence, that the king was to give a ball in honor of the queen. And suppose that he requested her, as an indul-gence, to wear those very studs she gave to Buckingham."

"She would be unable to produce them," Richelieu said. "Doubtless, she would make some sort of an excuse, as I have told you. Nothing could be proved."

"Ah, but suppose again, Your Eminence, that when the queen claimed the diamond studs were stolen, you had two of them in your possession. Wouldn't it be interesting to see the queen's reaction when you explained how you happened to come by them?"

"I see," said Richelieu. "Yes, that would be quite interest-ing, indeed. What do you require of me?"

"Some money would be useful," Taylor said, "also some sort of authorization, in your own hand, that would enable me to act freely and without fear of compromise."

Richelieu frowned. "Obviously, I can put nothing of this in writing," he said.

"It will not be necessary," Taylor said. "I do not require a detailed approval of my actions, only your
carte blanche.
I'm sure that you can word it appropriately."

"That's asking a great deal," said Richelieu.

"The stakes are high, Your Eminence," said Taylor. "I need to protect myself."

"Very well," said Richelieu, after a moment's thought. "I will write you a
carte blanche.
The moment you have those studs in your possession, you will let me know."

"But, of course, Your Eminence."

The cardinal finished writing, then stood and put on his hat and began pulling on his gloves.

"I do not know why," he said, "but it makes me very nerv-ous to deal with you, Milady. I am never entirely certain whom you serve."

"Why, only you, Your Eminence."

"If I believed that, then I would be a fool, indeed. Our interests seem to be allied for the moment, Milady. For the moment. Take care that we do not start working at cross pur-poses. I am France, Milady, and at this point in history, France cannot afford to be forgiving. See that you remember that."

"Who am I to go against the course of history, Your Emi-nence?"

Richelieu regarded Milady steadily. "Yes. Quite. Good day to you, Milady."

"Good day, Your Eminence."

Delaney awoke to find a knife held across his throat.

"If I was a terrorist, you'd be dead," said Mongoose. He was dressed as a cleaning woman in a shapeless dress, heavy shoes, and gray wig.

"You look ridiculous," Delaney said. "How did you get in? Oh, of course, these are your rooms, you have a key." He sat up slowly and groaned. "Oh, my head."

"You really think the Timekeepers would need a key?" said Mongoose. "Besides, you left the door open. Not even un-locked, for God's sakes,
open.
I would at least have thought that you'd be able to hold your liquor. You're a mess."

He went over to the bed where Lucas slept, dead to the world, and slapped him across the face several times.

"Come on, Priest, wake up, I haven't got all day.”

Lucas shot up out of bed, making a grab, but the agent threw him on the floor.

"Commandos," he said, scornfully. "What a joke."

"Mongoose!" Lucas said, getting up unsteadily. "What the hell?"

Both men were still dressed, having fallen into bed fully clothed after a night of heavy drinking.

D'Artagnan had in-sisted upon their meeting the other musketeers and cele-brating.

"I take it that the musketeers drank you under the table last night," Mongoose said.

"Actually, D'Artagnan, Aramis, and Porthos were un-conscious when we left," said Lucas, rinsing his face off with water from a bowl beside his bed. "Athos was still going strong. He seems to have had lots of experience."

"We saw Buckingham last night," said Finn. "In fact, we helped D'Artagnan save him from—"

"I know all about it, I was there," said Mongoose.

"So it was you!" said Lucas.

"If you're referring to the man killed by the laser, no, it wasn't me," the agent said. "It was a man named Freytag. A real nasty customer with a rather impressive record. I got a good look at him through my scope."

"A terrorist?" said Finn. "Why didn't you take him out?"

"A better question might be why didn't
he
take you out? He had a clear shot at both of you and it's a cinch he made you. French cavaliers don't usually know karate. You guys are about as subtle as a cavalry charge."

"I don't know what you're complaining about," said Lucas. "Wasn't that the general idea, using us to lure the terrorists out into the open?"

"I'm just puzzled as to why he didn't kill you," Mongoose said. "I find that very interesting. It was an ideal situation for a temporal disruption. All Freytag had to do was kill Buck-ingham and then take care of you. He could have killed D'Ar-tagnan, too. That would have been one hell of a mess to straighten out."

"So why didn't he do it?" Finn said. "Not that I'm com-plaining."

"Good question. It would seem to suggest that they want Buckingham, D'Artagnan, and even the two of you alive."

"That doesn't make any sense," said Lucas.

"Perhaps it does, if the man who's giving the orders is who I think it is. This game is getting very interesting."

"Game?" said Finn.

"Oh, it would be a game to him," said Mongoose. "That would be his style."

"Sounds very melodramatic," Lucas said. "Do we get a name? A description, maybe?"

Mongoose smiled. His old woman's disguise was complete right down to the rotting teeth.

"His name is Adrian Taylor. I'm afraid we don't have a description on him. He's a cut above your average terrorist."

"What does that mean?" Finn said.

"It means that he's very good at what he does," the agent said. "Taylor's a mental case, a psychopath, completely un-predictable. But he's also a pro, which makes matters worse because he's capable of a deadly, systematic rationality. He can keep it on a rein and let it all loose when it suits him."

"Sounds like you know the fellow," Lucas said.

Mongoose nodded. "Our paths have crossed before. He's not like the others. I suppose it's possible that he believes all that fanatic bullshit the Timekeepers spout, but I doubt that that's what drives him. This one's in it for the money. And because he likes to hang it right out over the edge."

"Sorta reminds you of someone we know, doesn't he?" said Finn.

"He's worked with Freytag before," the agent continued, ignoring Delaney's jibe. "I tailed Freytag to the Rue Vaugirard and then I lost him. I don't think he knew that he was be-ing followed, he was just being very careful."

"Which raises another question," Lucas said. "If they know we're onto them and they've got a chronoplate, why don't they simply abandon their plan to create a disruption here and clock out to another period? Our chances of latching onto them again would be practically nil."

"You don't know Taylor," Mongoose said. "He's not a quitter and he won't be intimidated. That's what I'm counting on. He knows that as long as we don't know where that plate is, he's got an edge and he'll hold off using it until the last possible moment."

"Then this should interest you," said Lucas. "Finn and I think we know where that chronoplate is. We followed an old man and a young woman from the Luxembourg to a house on the Rue St. Honore. The old man had a laser. He—"

"That would be Jack Bennett," Mongoose said. "Alias Dr. Jacques Benoit. He's the underground link to the terrorists."

"You knew!"

"Of course I knew. What do you think I've been doing all this time, sitting on my hands?"

"But if you knew about Bennett, why didn't you let us in on it?" Lucas said.

Delaney snorted. "Silly question. There was no need for us to know. Right, Mata Hari?"

"For a guy who had a knife at his throat a couple of min-utes ago, you're pretty cocky," Mongoose said.

"What's he talking about?" said Lucas.

"His bedside manner," Finn said. "Do you mind if I asked another silly question? If you knew about Bennett, why didn't you move in?"

"Because he doesn't have the chronoplate. The Time-keepers would never sit still for that. He might have given them access to it initially, but he's not part of their inner circle. Taylor will have taken it away from him."

"You had it all figured out, didn't you?" said Delaney. "You found out about Jack Bennett and you've probably had him under observation ever since, only it would seem that the terrorists got what they wanted from him and now he's out of the picture. So why leave him around? Easy, because he would make a perfect decoy. You figured that out, too, because you made sure that he knew he was under observation, hoping to scare him enough to lead you to the terrorists. If he did, you'd move in, and if he didn't, the terrorists would think their de-coy plan was working. Meanwhile you anticipated the poten-tial disruption scenarios and you've been Johnny-on-the-spot. You made sure to give us instructions that would involve us with the principals, so that the terrorists would make us, just like Freytag did last night.

The idea was to dangle a little bait in front of them, a couple of decoys of your own. Freytag was supposed to spot us, if not last night, then at some other point, whenever we happened to intersect with the key figures in this scenario. You or one of your people would have been right there, because you've had us watched constantly. We were supposed to get killed. With us dead, the terrorists would feel more secure, since they'd seem to have gotten away with it. They'd get careless and you'd trail them to their hideout where they keep the chronoplate. All very neat. Only Freytag didn't kill us. That's why it bothers you. Not because they've passed up an opportunity, but because they're not improvising. They didn't take your bait. They're sticking to their original plan and you don't know what that is. What's more, you had a chance last night, when you made Freytag. You could have followed him to this Taylor character, but you blew it. Freytag didn't know that he was being followed? I don't buy it. He knew and he shook you and it only took him a couple of blocks to do it. He and Taylor probably had a good laugh about it."