"What does that mean?"
"It means they're a group of men who pull the strings, whose financial power is almost as big as governments', which means they influence governments around the world."
'And what does that have to do with the Templars?"
'Ana, for years now, I've been studying everything written on the order. I have a lot of time, and I've come to some conclusions. In addition to all the organizations that claim to be the heirs of the Temple, there is another, secret organization, made up of men who stay in the shadows, all very important, and who inhabit the very heart of the heart of society. I don't know how many there are or who they all are-or at least I'm not sure that all the ones I suspect of belonging to this group actually do. But I think that the true Templars, the heirs of Jacques de Molay are there and that McCall is one of them. I've learned a lot about his Scottish estate, and it's interesting. Down through the centuries it has passed from hand to hand, always to men who are single-solitary, even-and rich and well connected, and every one of them obsessed with keeping out strangers. I think there's a Templar army, if you will, a silent, well-structured army whose members hold high positions in virtually every country."
"You seem to be talking about a Masonic organization."
"No, what I'm referring to is the authentic, core organization, the one nothing is known about, not even that it exists at all. With the list my father gave me and the help of an excellent investigative reporter, I've managed to make a partial organizational chart of this new Temple. But it hasn't been easy, I'll tell you. Michael, the reporter, is dead-a year ago he had a fatal car accident. I suspect they killed him. Nasty things seem to happen to those who get too close. I know-I've followed what has happened to curious people like us."
'A pretty paranoid vision of things, this worldwide conspiracy, murders, cover-ups."
"Yes, but still, I think there are two worlds: the one we see, in which the vast majority of us live, and then another, underground world that we know nothing about. That's the place from which these various organizations-financial, Masonic, whatever-pull the strings. And that's where this new Temple can be found, in that underground world."
"Granting that you're right, which I'm not so sure of, it doesn't explain what relationship the Templars of today have to the shroud."
"I don't know. I'm sorry. I've told you all this because your Padre Yves could be…"
"Say it."
"He could be one of them."
"A Templar in this secret society that you think- think, mind you-exists?"
"You think I'm seeing things, that this accident, this wheelchair, has made me paranoid, but I'm a reporter just like you are, Ana, and I can still tell reality from fiction. I've told you what I think. Now you can act as you see fit. If the shroud belonged to the Templars, and Padre Yves comes from the family of Geoffroy de Charney-"
"Even then," Ana interrupted her. "Even given all that, the shroud is not the cloth that Christ was buried in. We know it dates from de Charney's time, basically, and I think the Templars would have had to know it was a recent creation, or at least that its provenance was dubious-and I just don't see them staking everything on another half-baked relic, as they seem to have done…"
Listening to Elisabeth, Ana realized how ridiculous she herself must have looked, taking the time of serious scholars to expound on her own theories.
At that moment she didn't like herself much. She felt like a fool that she'd lost her head over a far-fetched story, trying to out-investigate the pros in the Art Crimes Department. It was over, she told herself; she was going back to Barcelona on the next plane. She'd call Santiago. She knew he'd be delighted when she told him she was moving on, that she'd had enough of the shroud to last a lifetime.
Elisabeth and Paul left her to her thoughts. They could see the skepticism-incredulity, really-reflected on her face. They had spoken to only a handful of people about their investigations into the new Temple, because they feared for their lives and the life of anyone who helped them. But this reporter had gotten herself in pretty deep, and they thought she had a right to know what she was up against.
"Elisabeth, are you going to give it to her?"
Paul's words brought Ana out of her reverie.
"Give me what?" asked Ana.
"This file, Ana. It's a summary of my work over the last five years. Michael's and my work, rather. It lists the names and biographies of the men we think are the new masters of the Temple. In my opinion, Lord McCall is the Grand Master. But read it and see what you think. And however ridiculous we seem to you, be careful, for your sake and ours. Only a few people know about this. We're trusting you because we think you're on the verge of an important discovery-we aren't sure exactly what it is, or what direction it'll take you, but you seem to be zeroing in on something, something big, that we've been missing. There are notes and historical details in the file you may want to think about, too, which may be relevant to your shroud, things we've discovered about the fall of the order, where they fled, speculations about what happened to their records and their riches, how they reconstituted themselves……
"If these papers fall into the wrong hands, we'll all die-don't doubt that. So I ask that you confide in no one, absolutely no one. They have ears everywhere-in the judiciary, in the police, in parliaments, in the stock markets-everywhere. I'm sure you're already on their radar. They know you've been with us; what they don't know is what we've told you. We've invested a great deal in security, and we have electronic scanners to find bugs. Even so, it's possible that we haven't found them all."
"Elisabeth, I'm sorry. This is too far into John le Carre territory, even for me."
"Think whatever you want, Ana, but you've put yourself into this. Will you do what we ask?"
"Look-you've taken me into your confidence, and I'm grateful. Your secrets are safe with me. Not a word to anyone, I promise. Shall I return this file when I've finished reading it?"
"Destroy it. It's just a summary, but I promise- you'll find it useful, very useful, especially if you decide to go on."
"What makes you think I'm turning back?"
Elisabeth took a deep breath before replying, then smiled ever so slightly.
"That's what you should do, Ana, believe me. Stop now. But somehow I don't think you will."
51
IT WAS SEVEN A.M., AND THE CORE MEMBERS of the Art Crimes Department looked like they'd just gotten out of bed after a sleepless night. Now they were waiting for their breakfast orders to be brought in. The hotel dining room had just opened and they'd been the first guests to enter.