The Templar's Code

room. “Specifically this house.”

Still typing, Caedmon nodded. “Franklin was searching for two trustworthy, like-minded men possessed of ‘a keen intellect and a stalwart heart.’ ”

“Given that the American Philosophical Society was Franklin’s homegrown answer to the Royal Society, all of the members would have satisfied the first criteria.”

“However, unlike its English template, Franklin was determined that his society would be free of the elitist taint associated with the Royal Society. Ah! I give you the American Philosophical Society circa 1776.” Caedmon expansively gestured to the monitor.

John Adams

Stephen Hopkins

John Witherspoon

Francis Hopkinson

Robert Morris

Benjamin Rush

Benjamin Franklin

George Clymer

James Wilson

Thomas McKean

Francis Lightfoot Lee

Thomas Jefferson

John Penn

Thomas Heyward, Jr.

“At least all the members who signed the Declaration of Independence.” Edie quickly took a head count. “Including Franklin, I get fourteen fellas.” She grabbed a pencil and jotted all fourteen names onto a sheet of paper. Then she opened The Book of Moses file on the laptop. Since they couldn’t bring any outside materials into the library, except for the computer, she’d taken digital photos and copied them onto the Dell. She quickly scrolled to the last page. Gnawing on her lower lip, she ruminated on Franklin’s checklist of “suitable” criteria. “We’re trying to unravel a two-hundred-and-thirty-five-year-old mystery but coming at it backward.”

“I admit we have scant clues to go on. And the few crumbs that Franklin drops are interspersed with political sound bites. Take this, for example—” Using his fingertip, he underscored the last line of handwritten text: “ ‘Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.’ Makes me want to dress up like an Indian and toss a crate of tea into Boston Harbor.”

Edie absently folded a sheet of blank paper. “Okay, let’s suppose for argument’s sake that Ben did invite two fellow members of the American Philosophical Society to join his Triad. There’s a very good chance the guys simply hid the darned thing right here at Library Hall, concealed within the bowels of the building.” Which, according to the pamphlet she’d picked up in the lobby, housed more than 350,000 volumes and bound periodicals, eleven million manuscripts, and nearly a quarter million images. Including a massive collection of Franklin’s papers, as well as his personal library. The proverbial haystack.

“You’ll be disappointed to know that Library Hall was constructed in the mid-twentieth century,” Caedmon informed her.

“You’re kidding! I would’ve sworn this was a colonial-era building.”

“A very convincing reproduction, I’m afraid. And the building across the street, which is the official headquarters for the American Philosophical Society, was constructed in 1789. Twelve years after the Second Continental Congress disbanded. So while Dr. Franklin may have transported the Emerald Tablet to Philadelphia, I suspect the City of Brotherly Love was merely a way station.”

“Great.” Edie glanced down, bemused to see that she’d made a paper airplane. Hit with a childish impulse to send it sailing across the room, she instead shoved back her chair and rose to her feet. “I need a time-out.”

“I’m not about to let you gallivant on your own. I’ll accompany you.”

“To the ladies’ room? I think not.” She put a staying hand on his shoulder. “Besides, I don’t intend to gallivant any farther than the lobby.”

“The bastard followed us to London. He could have followed us to—”

“But he didn’t. We were very careful,” she said over top of him, hoping to nip his concern in the bud. While it was endearing, she didn’t need a bodyguard. She was a big girl and they were in a public building. “Now excuse me while I go to the loo.”

Not giving Caedmon a chance to protest, she did a military-style turn and headed for the exit.

In the lobby — the only area of the library open to the public — a group of school-aged children were being ushered past an exhibit titled “Franklin: Man of Many Words.” As near as she could tell, the exhibit consisted of various pieces of ephemera displayed in glass cases. A generation acclimated to the visual overload of the digital age, the kiddies were clearly bored out of their bonkers. She suppressed a chuckle.

Moments later, about to ask the docent for directions to the restroom, Edie stopped in her tracks. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a blown-up excerpt mounted inside one of the display cases.

She did a double take, stunned at seeing a very recognizable phrase… Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.

CHAPTER 66

“I think I know the names of the other two Triad members,” Edie blurted without preamble, setting a large leather-bound book on the library table.

Caedmon glanced up from the computer. “Indeed?”

“Yes, indeedy. But first a quick American history lesson.” Cheeks flushed with impassioned color, she shoved her hand into her jeans pocket and removed a crumpled one-dollar bill, which she slapped onto the tabletop, backside on display. “This is the Great Seal of the United States that was approved by Congress in the year 1782.” With her index finger, she indicated the two circular medallions that adorned the left and right side of the note.

His curiosity piqued, Caedmon examined the familiar green-and-white bill, American currency famous the world over. “I’ve always been fascinated with the blatant esoteric symbolism engraved on your paper money,” he remarked, his attentive gaze landing on the unfinished pyramid, the Latin mottoes, and the All-Seeing Eye. The last had become something of a perennial bloom, the ancient symbol popping up with disturbing frequency.

“According to the library docent, between the years 1776 and 1782, three separate congressional committees submitted design ideas for the Great Seal of the United States. Congress rejected all three designs.”

“And what does this have to do with our signatories?” Next to the laptop was the list of prime suspects: the thirteen members of the American Philosophical Society, all of whom were signatories to the Declaration of Independence.

“Well, it just so happens that the first of the three Great Seal committees was formed on July 4, 1776, the very day that the Declaration of Independence was signed. And guess what? The 1776 committee recommended that the country’s new motto should be ‘Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.’ ”

Hearing that, his heart rate spiked, Edie having just spilled a bag of gilded beans. Again, he glanced at the list that they’d compiled, wondering if any of the members of the American Philosophical Society had been on the 1776 Great Seal committee.

“Now this is where the story gets really interesting.” Opening the volume she’d brought with her, Edie quickly flipped through the pages. “This book contains the minutes of the Continental Congress for the year 1776. The librarian was kind enough to pull it from the stacks.” A few moments later, excitedly tapping an open page, she drew his attention to two printed lines of text. “Look! There it is! The official