'Let's get them behind bars first. Then you can figure out what they were after. Come in tomorrow.
Walk us through what you know, then let us get on with it. If we need help, you'll be the first to know. And, I don't know, if you want some kind of exclusive deal should anything—'
'No, it's not like that. It's just. . .' She realized that nothing she said would make him change his mind.
'You're gonna have to let go of it, Tess. Please. I need you to let go of it.'
She was moved by the way he said it.
'Will you do that?' he continued. 'It's really not a game I want you playing at right now.'
'I'll try.' She nodded.
He studied her, then let out a small chorde and shook his head.
They both knew she had no choice in the matter.
She was into it hook, line, and sinker.
Chapter 42
Shifting in his chair in the stark, glass-fronted conference room at Federal Plaza, De Angelis studied Tess Chaykin carefully. A very smart lady, he thought. That much was obvious. Of more concern was that it appeared she was also fearless. It was an intriguing yet potentially dangerous combination. But played correctly, it could also prove to be very useful. She seemed to know which questions to ask and what leads to follow.
Glancing at the others around the table, De Angelis listened to her account of her abduction and her subsequent escape. Discreetly, he gently massaged the place where Vance's bullet had grazed his leg. It stung with a burning twinge, especially when he walked, but the painkillers he was taking dampened the sensation to a point where he hoped any hint of a limp wouldn't be noticeable.
Her words made him flash back to the confrontation with Vance in the darkened crypt. He felt an anger swell inside him. He chided himself for the way he had allowed Vance to slip away. A feeble, tortured history professor, at that. Inexcusable. He wouldn't let it happen again. Thinking about it, it occurred to him that, had he succeeded against Vance, he might have had to deal with her too, which would have been messy. He
had nothing against her, at least not yet. Not as long as her motives didn't prove antagonistic to his mission.
He needed to understand her better. Why is she doing this? What is she really after, he wondered.
He would have to look into her background and, more important, her position concerning certain issues of paramount importance.
As she finished her story, De Angelis noted something else too. It was the way that Reilly was looking at her. There was something there, he mused. Interesting. The agent clearly saw her as something more than an aid to the investigation. Not surprising on Reilly's part, but was it reciprocated?
He definitely needed to keep a close eye on her.
***
When Tess was done, Reilly stepped in, calling up an image of the ruins of the church from his laptop. It popped up on the large flat panel facing the conference table. 'That's where he was holding you,' he told her. 'The Church of the Ascension.'
Tess looked surprised. 'It's burned down.'
'Yeah, they're still working on raising the funds to rebuild it.'
'The smell, the dampness ... it definitely fits, but . . .' She seemed thrown. 'He was living in the cellar of a burned-down church.' She paused, trying to correlate the picture in front of her with her recollection of Vance and what he had said. She looked at Reilly. 'But he hated the Church.'
'This wasn't just any church. It burned down five years ago. Arson investigators didn't find anything suspicious at the time, even though the parish priest died in the blaze.'
She thought back, conjuring up the name of the priest Vance had mentioned. 'Father McKay?'
'Yes.'
Reilly looked at her. It was obvious they'd reached the same conclusion.
'The priest Vance blamed for the death of his wife.' Her imagination was galloping ahead now, and the images it was kicking up were horrific ones.
'And the dates match. The fire happened three weeks after he buried her.' He turned to Jansson.
'We're going to have to get that case reopened.'
Jansson nodded. Reilly turned to Tess, who seemed lost in thought.
'What is it?'
'I don't know,' she said, as if emerging from a fog. 'It's just difficult thinking about him in such contradictory terms. He's this charming, erudite professor on the one hand, and then the polar opposite, someone who's capable of such violence ...'
Aparo stepped in. 'Unfortunately, it's not uncommon. It's like the quiet, friendly neighbor with body parts in his freezer. They're usually much more dangerous than the guys busting up bars every night.'
Reilly took over again. 'We need to understand what he's after, or what he thinks he's after. Tess, you were the first to see the link between Vance and the Templars, and, if you can take us through what you know so far, maybe we can figure out what his next move's likely to be.'
'Where do you want me to start?'
Reilly shrugged. 'The beginning?'
'It's a long story.'
'Well, keep us up at ten thousand feet. Anything looks interesting, we'll go into it in more detail.'
She briefly marshaled her thoughts before she began.
* * *
She told them about the Templars' origins, about the nine knights showing up in Jerusalem; about their nine years in seclusion at the Temple, the theories about them digging something up in that time; about their subsequent, somewhat inexplicable rapid rise to power; about their victories in battle, and their ultimate defeat at Acre. She walked them through the Templars' return to Europe, their power and their arrogance, and how it grated on the king of France and on his submissive pope, and about their ultimate downfall.
'With the support of his lackey, Pope Clement V, the king starts a wave of persecutions, rounds up the Templars, accuses them of heresy. Within a few years, they're wiped out. Mostly meeting extremely painful deaths.'
Aparo looked confused. 'Hold on, heresy? How could they justify it? I thought these guys were the defenders of the Cross, the pope's chosen ones.'
'These were extremely religious times we're talking about,' Tess continued. 'The devil was very much alive in people's minds at the time.' She paused and glanced around the table. The silence egged her on. 'Claims were made that when knights were received into the order, they did so by spitting and even urinating on the Cross, and by denying Jesus Christ. And that wasn't all they were accused of. There were also claims that they worshipped a strange demon called Baphomet and that they engaged in sodomy. Basically, the usual claims of occult worship the Vatican wheeled out whenever it wanted to get rid of any competition in the religious sweepstakes.'
She flicked a glance at De Angelis. He kept his expression benignly interested, but said nothing.
'During the course of these final years,' Tess continued, 'they confessed to a lot of these accusations, but their confessions hold as much water as those made during the Spanish Inquisition.
The threat of having a red-hot spike inserted into you is enough to make anyone admit to anything.
Especially when all around you, the threat is being carried out on your friends.'
De Angelis took off his glasses and wiped them on the sleeve of his jacket, then replaced them and nodded somberly at Tess. It was very clear where her sympathies lay.
Tess flipped the papers back into the folder. 'Hundreds of Knights Templar all across France were rounded up and put through this charade. When there was no retaliation, dozens of bishops and abbots jumped on the bandwagon, and pretty soon the Knights Templar were on the run. Only here's the thing: their wealth seems to have disappeared with them. She told them about the stories of caskets of gold and jewels being hidden in caves or in lakes all across Europe, and about the Templars' ships fleeing from the port of La Rochelle the night before that fateful Friday the thirteenth.
'Is that what this is all about?' Jansson held up his copy of the coded manuscript. 'A lost treasure?'
