'Give that to me,' de Roquefort demanded, rising from the chair.
Geoffrey leveled his gun. 'Sit.'
De Roquefort stayed on his feet. Geoffrey cocked the weapon and aimed for the legs. 'The vest will do you no good.'
'You would kill me?'
'I'll cripple you.'
De Roquefort sat. 'You have a brave compatriot,' he said to the seneschal.
'He's a brother of the Temple.'
'A shame he will never achieve the oath.'
If the words were designed to evoke a response in Geoffrey, they failed.
'You're going nowhere,' de Roquefort told them.
The seneschal watched his ally. Geoffrey was again staring out the window, as if waiting for something.
'I'll enjoy seeing you both punished,' de Roquefort said.
'I told you to shut up,' the seneschal said.
'Your master thought himself clever. I know he wasn't.'
He could tell de Roquefort had something more to say. 'Okay, I'll bite. What is it?'
'The Great Devise. It's what consumed him and all of the masters. Each wanted to find it, but none succeeded. Your master spent a lot of time researching the subject, and your young friend over there helped him.'
The seneschal shot a glance at Geoffrey, but his partner did not turn from the window. He said to de Roquefort, 'I thought you were close to finding it. That's what you told the conclave.'
'I am.'
The seneschal did not believe him.
'Your young friend over there and the late master were quite a team. I've learned that recently they scoured our records with a newfound relish-one that piqued my interest.'
Geoffrey turned and stomped across the bedchamber, stuffing the envelope back into his cassock. 'You'll learn nothing.' The voice approached a shout. 'What there is to find is not for you.'
'Really?' de Roquefort asked. 'And what is there to find?'
'There will be no triumph for the likes of you. The master was right. You are drunk with fire and full of bitterness.'
De Roquefort appraised Geoffrey with a stiff countenance. 'You and the master learned something, didn't you? I know you sent two parcels in the mail, and I even know to whom. I've tended to one of the receivers and will shortly tend to the other. Soon I'll know all that you and he knew.'
Geoffrey's right arm swung out and the gun he held slammed into de Roquefort's temple. The master teetered, stunned, then his eyes rolled skyward and he collapsed to the floor.
'Was that necessary?' the seneschal asked.
'He should be glad that I didn't shoot him. But the master made me promise I wouldn't harm the fool.'
'You and I need to have a serious talk.'
'First, we have to leave.'
'I don't think the brothers out in the hall are going to allow that.'
'They're not our problem.'
He could sense something. 'You know the way out of here?'
Geoffrey smiled. 'The master was quite clear.'
PART THREE
2:05 PM
DE ROQUEFORT OPENED HIS EYES. THE SIDE OF HIS HEAD pounded and he swore that brother Geoffrey would pay for his assault. He pushed himself up from the floor and tried to clear the fog. He heard frantic cries from outside the door. He dabbed the side of his head with his sleeve and the cassock came away stained with blood. He stepped into the bathroom and doused a rag with water, cleaning the wound.
He steeled himself. He must appear in charge. He slowly walked across the bedchamber and opened the door.
'Master, are you all right?' his new marshal asked.
'Come inside,' he said.
The four other brothers waited in the hall. They knew better than to step into the master's chamber without permission.
'Close the door.'
His lieutenant complied.
'I was struck unconscious. How long have they been gone?'
'It's been quiet in here for twenty minutes. That's what raised our fears.'
'What do you mean?'
A puzzled look came to the marshal's face. 'Silence. Nothing.'
'Where did the seneschal and brother Geoffrey go?'
'Master, they were in here, with you. We were outside.'
'Look around. They're gone. When did they leave?'
More bewilderment. 'They didn't come our way.'
'You're telling me those two did not walk out that door?'
'We would have shot them if they had, as you ordered.'
His head started to hurt again. He lifted the wet rag to his scalp and massaged the throbbing knot. He'd wondered why Geoffrey had come straight here.
'There's news from Rennes-le-Chateau,' the marshal said.
That revelation piqued his interest.
'Our two brothers made their presence known and Malone, as you predicted, eluded them on the highway.'
He'd correctly deduced that the best way to pursue Stephanie Nelle and Cotton Malone was to let them think they were free of pursuit.
'And the shooter in the churchyard last night?'
'The person fled on a motorcycle. Our men watched as Malone gave chase. That incident, and the attack on our brothers in Copenhagen, are clearly related.'
He agreed. 'Any idea who?'
'Not yet.'
He didn't want to hear that. 'What of today? Where did Malone and Nelle go?'
'The electronic surveillance we affixed to Malone's car worked perfectly. They drove straight to Avignon. They've just left the sanatorium where Royce Claridon is a patient.'
He was well acquainted with Claridon and did not for one moment believe Claridon was mentally ill, which was why he'd cultivated a source within the sanatorium. A month ago, when the master dispatched Geoffrey to Avignon to mail the package to Stephanie Nelle, he'd thought contact might have then been made. But Geoffrey paid no visit to the asylum. He suspected that the second parcel, the one sent to Ernst Scoville in Rennes, the one he knew little about, was what led Stephanie Nelle and Malone to Claridon. One thing was certain. Claridon and Lars Nelle had worked side by side, and when the son dabbled in the quest after Lars Nelle's death, Claridon had assisted him, too.
