It was the day after the destruction of the school. The blazing petrol had spread from the gymnasium to the old buildings and by the time the fire brigade had arrived, there hadn’t been very much left. By then Matt had returned to the flat in York, joining a shocked Richard, who had already heard the first reports on the radio. The school did their best to keep Matt out of the newspapers – and fortunately nobody yet knew the identity of the madwoman who had been driving the petrol tanker. But there had been too many witnesses, too many boys willing to talk. And all the headlines were screaming the same, impossible story:
BOY FORESEES SCHOOL CATASTROPHE PRECOGNITION BOY SAVES SCHOOL DID FORREST HILL BOY SEE FUTURE?
At least nobody had a photograph of Matt apart from one muddy, almost unrecognizable image that had been taken on a mobile phone. And by the time the first editions of the newspapers came out, Richard and Matt had already gone. Richard had spoken with Susan Ashwood on the phone and she had arranged a “safe house” for them in Leeds – an empty flat where they had stayed overnight. While they were there, Matt had agreed to travel to London to meet the Nexus, just as they had asked. Looking back, it seemed to him that there had been something inevitable about it.
“It was meant to happen. It was planned… ”
Susan Ashwood had said that too. She had been talking about the discovery of the Spanish monk’s diary. But she could just as easily have been talking about him. It was beginning to seem to Matt that his every move was being dictated for him. It didn’t matter what he wanted. Someone, somewhere had other ideas.
“Maybe it’ll work out OK,” Richard said. “All you’ve got to do is meet this guy, William Morton, get him to hand over the diary and then you and I can go back to York or somewhere and start over again.”
“You really think it will be as easy as that?” Matt asked.
Richard shrugged. “Nothing’s ever easy where you’re concerned,” he said. “But at the end of the day, Matt, you’re still in control. Whatever they ask, you only have to say no.”
A taxi had been sent to meet them at the station and it took them to a hotel in Farringdon. Matt hardly knew London. The first time he had been here, he had been under police escort, whisked in and out of an office with barely enough time to smell the air. Farringdon was an old part of the city which seemed to slip further back in time as the evening drew on. There were dark alleyways and gas lamps and even, in places, cobbled streets. If an air-raid siren had suddenly split the air, Matt wouldn’t have been surprised. It was the London he had seen in films that took place during the Second World War.
The hotel was small and so discreet that it didn’t even have a name on the front door. Richard and Matt both had rooms on the third floor – paid for, of course, by the Nexus. After they’d unpacked, they took the tiny lift back to the ground floor and had an early supper together in the dining room. They were still eating when Mr Fabian appeared, this time in a dark suit with black, brightly polished shoes.
“Good evening,” he said. “I have been asked to take you to the meeting. But you must finish your meal first. We have plenty of time. Do you mind if I join you?”
He drew up a third chair and sat down.
“Is it far from here?” Richard asked.
“No. A short walk.” Fabian was in a good mood. He seemed to have forgotten the way their last meeting had ended.
“Can I ask you something?” Richard asked.
“Please. Go ahead.”
“I know nothing about you. I mean, you once told me you lived in Lima…”
“In fact I live in Barranco. It’s a suburb of Lima.”
“But what do you do? How did you get chosen by the Nexus? Do you have a wife or any children?”
Fabian had raised a finger to his lips at the mention of the Nexus but there was nobody else in the room and he relaxed. “I will answer your questions,” he said. “No. I am not married. Not yet, anyway. As to my work, I’m a writer. I have written many books about my country, its history, its archaeology. That was how I came into contact with the Nexus. I was a good friend of Professor Dravid before he was killed. It was he who recruited me.”
Richard and Matt finished eating. A waiter came into the room to clear away the plates.
“If you’re ready…” Fabian began.
“Lead the way!” Richard replied.
They left the hotel and went down the street, walking for about five minutes before they arrived at a plain, black door set between an estate agent’s and a cafe. Fabian had a key and unlocked the door, leading them through a narrow hallway and up a flight of stairs. The second floor was more modern than the rest of the building, with doors of dark glass and security cameras. Matt had thought they were entering a private house but the upper level was more like an office. The carpet was thick. The doors were closed. Everything felt silent and secretive.
“It’s through here.” Fabian gestured with a hand and, as if by magic, one of the doors slid open automatically. On the other side was a room with a long table and eleven people sitting together in silence, waiting for them. Fabian went in ahead of them and sat down next to Susan Ashwood. That left two empty chairs.
One for Matt. One for Richard.
“Please, come in.” Matt wasn’t sure who had spoken. All he was aware of was that everyone was looking at him. Matt felt himself beginning to blush. He didn’t like being the centre of attention at the best of times but this was definitely weird. They were staring at him as if he were a film star. He felt that at any moment they were going to break into applause.
Richard walked in. Matt followed and the door closed behind them.
So this was the Nexus! Quickly, Matt weighed up the twelve people sitting around the table. Now that Fabian had joined them, there were eight men and four women. Two of the men were black. One looked Chinese. Their ages ranged from about thirty to seventy. The oldest person in the room was wearing a clerical collar and a crucifix: a bishop. They were all smartly dressed. Matt could imagine them sitting at the theatre together, or perhaps the opera. They shared the same sort of seriousness. None of them were smiling.
The room itself was long and narrow with only one window giving a view over the street. The glass was tinted so that nobody outside could look in. The furniture was quietly expensive but there were no paintings or ornaments, just a number of clocks showing different times and some maps. Matt dropped into the nearest chair, trying to avoid anyone’s eye. But not Richard. He was still standing by the door, looking around him in amazement.
“I know you!” he said. He pointed to a grim-faced man sitting with a straight back and an immaculately cut suit. “You’re a policeman. Tarrant. Isn’t that your name? You’re something high up in New Scotland Yard. I’ve seen you on television.” He turned to the woman who was next to him. Expensively dressed with red hair that was surely dyed. Two strings of pearls around her neck. “And you’re Nathalie Johnson.”
Even Matt knew that name. He had seen it often enough in the papers. She was sometimes called the female Bill Gates. She had made her fortune in computers and was one of the richest women in the world.
“Let’s not bother with names, Mr Cole,” she said. She had an American accent. “Please take a seat and we can get started.”
Richard sat down next to Matt. It was difficult to be sure who was in charge. Miss Ashwood was at the head of the table but there was no obvious leader. It also occurred to him that someone in the room must be new. Fabian had told him that there were twelve members of the Nexus, and sure enough there were twelve men and women here. But Professor Dravid had once been a member of the organization too and he had died. Presumably he had been replaced.