He decided on an alternative. He’d catch a train to another city. Too bad for his bag. He’d pick it up another time.
Allah was great and generous with his servants.
Bashir was eying a convertible parked nearby when unbearable pain blazed in his head.
He crumpled to the ground. He turned his head and could make out a blurry face leaning toward him.
“You really thought you could escape us?” the man asked.
Was that the Tebah Stone in his hand? Bashir’s world turned black.
37
As soon as Marcas was gone, Jade called her friend Christine de Nief and invited her to a late lunch. Jade wanted to know more about the Templars but refused to ask the cop, who would have been all too happy to show off his knowledge. She had typed “Templars” into a search engine and pulled up twelve thousand pages — enough to scare anyone off. The few pages that she did read didn’t encourage her to read more. They were stories of buried treasures, secrets lost since the time of Jesus, doomsday conspiracies, and secret societies of all types, including the Freemasons. Unable to separate what was believable from the rubbish, Jade gave up. Christine, however, could help her. She was a historian who worked as a television and radio consultant.
Jade arrived at the trendy Porte d’Auteuil restaurant, which was full of well-off young people. Christine had chosen it. She loved to be seen.
Jade left the keys to the MG with the valet and stepped into the crowded restaurant. She spotted Christine deep in conversation with a dark-haired man at the next table. Jade had seen that face somewhere. Christine looked up, saw Jade, and abandoned her neighbor. She waved her over.
“Darling, what a pleasure to see you. What have you been up to?”
“Shooting this morning. It was divine.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
“Same old you, just the way I love you,” Christine said.
Jade leaned in and whispered, “Who is that handsome man next to you? I’ve seen him before, haven’t I?”
Christine looked serious. “You didn’t recognize Olivier Leandri, the news anchor on the rise? Well, you do spend most of your time in Rome these days. Olivier and I had a thing awhile ago. I’ll introduce you if you’d like. He’s charming.”
Jade smiled. “No, not interested at the moment. I’m working on a case.”
“Darling, you’re always working. At some point you’ve got to make time for a man — someone not so high-risk. You should try brains over brawn for a change.”
“I appreciate your concern, Christine, but you and I both know that I’m not a nun. I’ve had my share of lovers, thank you. Maybe I’ll ask you to introduce me to one of your hot celebrity friends someday. But, as I said, I’ve got a case to solve, and I hope you can help me. Tell me about the Knights Templar.”
Her friend looked surprised. “Since when have you been interested in history?”
“I’ll explain. But let’s order first.”
The waiter took their orders, and they started off with a glass of Champagne.
“What exactly do you want to know?”
“The basic story and then a few specific details.”
“The order was created at the beginning of the twelfth century by nine knights in Jerusalem, in the ruins of the former Temple of Solomon. The order became powerful in Europe — and rich. It established hundreds of command posts. Then, two hundred years later, it experienced its downfall. The king of France, Philippe le Bel, pressed Pope Clement to ban the order, which led to the bloody persecution of its members. The order’s command posts were requisitioned, its assets were seized, and the knights were imprisoned and tortured. The Templars vanished. Of course, such a tragic end has inspired wild theories and imaginative stories for lovers of cheap mysteries and esotericism. Does that answer your question?”
Christine looked at her as she nibbled a thin slice of duck magret.
“Yes. So how are the Freemasons linked with the Knights Templar?”
“Historically speaking, there isn’t a link. There isn’t a single serious historian who has proved that the two groups are linked. But Freemasons, or some of them, at least, seem convinced that there is a connection. As far as I’m concerned, they’re in a parallel universe where the study of symbols and rituals counts for more than solid research.”
“So all those stories of treasures and secrets are just hot air?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m just saying there’s no proof. But who knows? Anything’s possible.”
Jade frowned. Possible wasn’t good enough.
38
Marcas made his way down the stairs of the lodge, mentally preparing to meet the grand archivist. Grand archivist wasn’t an official Grand Orient position. Rather, it was an honorary one, created because an increasing number of brothers were showing an interest in Freemason history and research. The man’s role was to oversee the jurisdiction’s research. Marc Jouhanneau, the Grand Orient’s grand archivist, was a specialist in the history of religion.
After the usual introductions and ritual embrace, Marcas sat down next to the slender, pleasant-looking man of indiscernible age. He was wearing a suit and a black bow tie.
“Are you related to Henri Jouhanneau? Special Envoy Mareuil gave me part of his diary to read.”
“He was my father.”
“What happened to him in 1941?”
“He was rounded up by the Germans because the Nazis needed neurologists. He was sent to do research for the Luftwaffe, Germany’s air force.”
“What kind of research?” Marcas asked.
“The Germans were looking for ways to increase survival rates for pilots shot down over the North Sea. At the time, it was impossible to last more than two hours. The SS headed up operations, and the guinea pigs came from neighboring concentration camps. They were dumped in icy water, and the researchers used various methods to revive them. In 1943, my father was transferred to another camp controlled by the Ahnenerbe and then to Weweslburg Castle, their so-called cultural headquarters. SS physicians were doing advanced brain research, and apparently they were quite a bit ahead of everyone else. They were especially interested in the various levels of consciousness. They had recruited a multidisciplinary team that even included psychoanalysts. Ironic, considering what Hitler thought of Sigmund Freud.”
“It’s no news that the Nazis had some crazy theories and conducted a lot of horrific experiments,” Marcas said.
“I could go on and on about those experiments and theories. In the death camps, Dr. Mengele injected chemicals into people’s eyes to make them blue. As for the theories, some Nazi scientists held that the Earth was hollow. There’s a tale that the Germans sent an expedition to Antarctica, where they found an underground network of caves and rivers as far as thirty miles down. They were ordered to begin building a fortress there, and some claim to have made contact with extraterrestrials. Believe it or not, there were people who bought that story. We do know for a fact that the Germans sent an expedition to Tibet because of their interest in the occult.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Much has been written over the years. And I have personal knowledge. My father ended up in Dachau. During his final days, he shared everything with a brother. A Jewish brother, a Freemason who forgot nothing. That man, Marek, survived. Until two days ago.”
“Come again?”
“He was murdered in Jerusalem. Marek, an archeologist and expert in ancient inscriptions, was killed the same night as Sophie Dawes. He was the man Sophie was going to see in Jerusalem.”