“His supernatural weapons of mass destruction, eh?” Billi stood the jar on the table. “Someone found it in a rummage sale at Saddam’s palace? How very lucky.”
Lawrence chuckled. It sounded like a frog being strangled. “Don’t be coy, Ms. SanGreal. I wasn’t the only… collector making deals during the chaos of the 2003 Iraq war. Especially during the early days.”
“When priceless treasures from the cradle of civilization were looted from the museums and lost forever?”
Lawrence smiled. “Business was good. And when was the last time you visited the British Museum? It’s built on loot.”
Billi looked across the room at the golem. “That where you found him? Collecting dust in the corner of the Baghdad museum of antiquities? With all the chaos, you just loaded him on the back of an army truck and drove him across the border?”
“So you know?” asked Lawrence.
“That you have connections in the British military going back generations? That you have generals in your pocket and have troops set aside to help you smuggle artefacts out of war zones? Yeah, I do.”
He wasn’t embarrassed, or ashamed. Or even surprised she knew all about his smuggling ring and how he used British troops to do his dirty work. There were plenty of soldiers past and present who owed their fortunes to Lawrence. “It’s outrageous how little soldiers get paid. Our noble boys and girls protecting our freedoms and oil wells for such a pittance. It was my patriotic duty to support them as best I can.”
“Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel,” quoted Billi. “And my dad was a soldier.”
“Dishonourably discharged, wasn’t he?” countered Lawrence. “Striking a superior officer, wasn’t it?”
“Putting him in hospital more like.” Billi pointed at the shopping bag. “As pleasant as these chats are, I really do need to go. So, there’s the money and I’ll take the jar. Keep in touch.” Billi reached for the jar —
Lawrence coughed and the golem lurched forward.
Uh oh.
Billi got to her feet. “Do we have a problem?”
“If only you’d come an hour earlier, but we’ve had another offer.” He gestured to his mobile phone on the table. “There’s a presidential election coming up and one of the candidates is in need of a wish coming true.”
So that was why he kept that mobile so close. Who else did he have saved in Contacts? “You’ve warned him all such wishes carry an equally powerful curse?”
Lawrence grinned hideously. “Why discourage him unnecessarily?”
“How much?”
“Would you believe nothing at all? But I will have access to all levels of power within government. In all my years it struck me I have never owned a country. This is the next best thing.”
“Then why did you —”
“Expenses, my dear. Expenses must be covered.”
The golem picked up the Tesco bag and put it firmly by the side door. She wasn’t getting that back.
That was all they had. Accounts had been cleared, favours asked, a lot of favours, markers called in. Once the Templars had been Christendom’s bankers but those days were a long, long time ago and now it was charity shopping at Christmas and second-hand clothes all year round. “What happened to honour amongst thieves?” said Billi.
“I’m a businessman, Ms. SanGreal. What need do I have of honour?”
She’d have thought after all these years he wouldn’t want to be taking these types of risks. “Dad’ll be upset. You really want that?”
“How quaint. How loyal. Still hanging onto the fantasy that the Knights Templar mean something. You’re not players in the game, Ms. SanGreal, not anymore. You’re just a comedy sideshow, grown men running around waving their swords about, fighting against their sense of insignificance. When will you grow up and see the world as it really is?”
“You’re going to steal my money and not give me the djinn? Have I got that absolutely straight?”
“Don’t act dim, little girl. I have little patience nowadays.” He gestured to the golem. “Will you show Ms. SanGreal out?”
Any straight fight between her and a golem would last about two seconds, ending with her being turned into a bloody smear on the marble floor. She knew it, Lawrence knew it, and the golem knew it. It was that classic riddle: how do you beat someone bigger, stronger, faster and better trained than you?
Simple.
Cheat.
Billi kicked the table hard. It slid across the smooth marble floor and smacked into the golem’s shins. The creature stumbled onto the fragile wood, shattering it instantly.
Billi snatched up the jar — and Lawrence’s phone since it was right there — from amongst the debris, then backed away. “Another step and I’ll rip the seal right off. I might even make a wish. What do you think? That you should all fall down dead?”
The golem opened and clenched those fingers of his with an eagerness Billi didn’t want to dwell upon. But Lawrence raised his hand to stop him. “You wouldn’t be so foolish.”
“You really don’t know any young people, do you? We all think we’re going to live forever. Taking foolish risks is our thing.”
“Give me the jar and I’ll let you leave, limbs intact.”
Billi picked at the lead, levering her nails into the seal. The metal had gone brittle with age. She began pealing —
“Don’t!” screamed Lawrence. “You’ll doom us all! The wish must be minutely specified!”
She took another step backward toward the balcony. “Like when you wished to never die?”
He flinched. She guessed it must still hurt, making that wish and getting played like that. He got what he wanted, to live forever, but the twist had been he’d kept aging. She didn’t know how powerful the djinn in this particular bottle was, but it was better things go bad for everyone, rather than just for her. She stepped through the window onto the balcony. The far door opened and the other bodyguard, Tommy, entered. He had both her dusters on. Now that was just plain rude. Lawrence stood up slowly. His guards stood either side of him, blocking any escape through
