Two men stood close to the pentagram. They were wearing long black robes, their hoods thrown back. The man to the right was leaning forward, making adjustments to the metal structure.
Laura was about to turn to whisper something to Philip when the torch that she had been holding suddenly slipped from her grasp. It clanged across the floor. She stepped back quickly and cursed under her breath.
'Laura, I'm so pleased you could join us,' came a familiar voice from the chamber.
She felt a jolt of horror pass through her, a definite physical reaction, immediate and powerful. She turned to Philip, who looked stunned. Closing her eyes, Laura felt the pain of realisation sweep through her. Philip thought she was going to cry, but instead she turned on her heel and walked into the chamber.
James Lightman looked ridiculously relaxed, as though they were meeting in the drawing room of his house or at a tea shop on The High. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him and appeared to be filled with self-confidence and energy. His intense brown eyes glinted in the candlelight. Beside him stood Malcolm Bridges, his eyes expressionless. The shadows that fell across the young man's face made him look like the Grim Reaper.
'You've arrived at a most auspicious time,' Lightman said.
Laura felt sick to her stomach. 'What the hell is this?' she demanded, her face flushing. 'How could you. .?'
With a hint of a smile, Lightman said: 'Surely you suspected, Laura? With your vivid imagination?'
'I could have believed it of him ' She glared at Bridges who returned the look with blank eyes. 'But you, James? Why on earth?'
'Why on earth would I want eternal life, Laura? Now, let me think.'
'But occult rituals. .?'
'It would be a dull world, would it not, if we all believed in the same things? But come. . enough. I must congratulate you both on passing the tests of the Guardians. Few have ever managed it. I would have been keen to see the document that you used to guide you, but I no longer need such things. My task will soon be complete.' He gestured towards the Pentagram.
'As you know from your intrepid investigations, this evening the final organ will be in my possession and the real work will then begin. The final piece will soon be here.'
Laura was about to say something, but Lightman raised his hand. 'I'm sure what you have to say is very important, Laura my dear, but please, let me just finish what I was starting to explain. I think you'll consider it of value. You see, the two of you' — he glanced briefly at Philip — 'will never again see the light of day. It is impossible to retrace your steps through the tunnels of the Guardians and there is only one other way out. That is the route that takes us from here to the library, and only I have the map.' He tapped his breast.
'The route created by John Milliner,' said Laura.
'My predecessor in more ways than one.'
Laura looked puzzled.
'Ah, another piece of the jigsaw puzzle that the two of you missed,' Lightman said. 'John Milliner was not just a Professor of Medicine at the University, he was also Chief Librarian. The Chief Librarians of the Bodleian have been leaders of my order, the Order of the Black Sphinx, for at least a dozen generations. Each of us has added something to the vast network of tunnels beneath the library. Building work stopped a long, long time ago, but we have each added decorations or some other refinement. My contribution has been this ingenious refrigeration unit.'
'And I suppose he's been your executioner.' Laura nodded towards Bridges.
'Oh no, my clever Laura,' Lightman said. 'I'm afraid that there you are quite wrong. Malcolm here has many talents, but he is not your killer. That is the responsibility of another young colleague. He has used many aliases over the years, but the university authorities knew him as Julius Spenser. Officially, he's a high-flying psychologist who is now working in America. At least, that's what the police know of him. I'm afraid poor old DCI Monroe has been less than inspired in his efforts of late. . But as it happens, dear girl, there is something I would like to explain about my colleague.'
Lightman took a step back and pulled a revolver from under his robe. Pointing it directly at Bridges, he said coldly: 'Malcolm, maybe you could tell us something about your role in all this.'
The room was as still and silent as a mausoleum. Situated as they were, some hundred feet beneath the Bodleian Library, all the usual sounds of the everyday world were excluded: the rumble of traffic, the noise of people — all these things had been left on the surface. The four of them could have been transported back in time. Ignoring Lightman's refrigeration unit, they might have been standing in this room when Milliner was surveying it for the first time, or when Newton was studying an entirely different set of human organs.
Bridges's eyes now widened in alarm. He put his hands up slowly and deliberately, looking from the old man's face to the gun and back again. Laura could see beads of sweat on his forehead.
'What?' he said, shaking his head slightly. 'What exactly. .?'
'Well, naturally, you would not like to admit. .'
Philip was about to interrupt when Lightman glared at him. 'This has nothing to do with you, Mr Bainbridge.' He gestured at Bridges with the gun. 'Well?'
'I don't. .'
'Malcolm, Malcolm,' Lightman sighed and shook his head. 'Please don't waste my time. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? I'll help you. You see, I know very much more about you than you might imagine. I have many, many useful contacts in all sorts of interesting places. I know, for example, that you were present at the scene when my colleague. . shall we call him Julius? Yes, when Julius was harvesting the brain. The police found a tiny sample of your blood in the girl's house. Then two weeks ago you were caught on film, searching through my study at home. I have records of the most incriminating communications between you and your employers.'
Bridges seemed suddenly transformed. Gone was the pallid academic, the vampiric accessory to a series of horrendous crimes. He suddenly looked more ordinary. 'You know who I work for,' he said, fixing Lightman with his stare. 'Your taxes pay my salary. And if you really have tapped my communications, which I actually rather doubt, you'll know they end up at Millbank. I was at the dead girl's house hoping to get in Spenser's way. Unfortunately, I was too late to save her life — I saw him slice her open. I'm here now to prevent you from finishing your task.'
Lightman gave him a brief, icy smile. But Laura could sense that some of the sheen had gone from his seemingly impervious confidence.
'Ah, the self-assurance of youth,' he said. 'How I admire it so. But I think you have left things a little too late, dear boy. Of course you could not have done much to stop us earlier — there was nothing to go on, was there? Julius is very thorough. What would your superiors have thought if you had gone to them with some cock-and-bull story where the Chief Librarian, who has mysteriously disappeared, is in fact the head of an occult group seeking to employ the services of the Dark Lord in some nefarious ritual? As we speak, Julius is preparing to harvest the final item.'
Bridges said nothing and slowly lowered his hands.
'Don't do that. I think you should keep them there,' Lightman snapped, gesturing with the gun again. Bridges did as he was told. 'Now,' Lightman added and glanced quickly at Laura and Philip, 'you may think I'm a frail old man, but please do not entertain any thoughts of trying to overpower me. I am a superb marksman and a great deal more agile than I might appear.' He took a deep breath. 'I would very much like all three of you to sit down over here, please.' He waved the gun in the direction of the pentagram.