The Lucifer Code (29 page)

‘Yet you were a peeping Tom.’

She has you there,
Sevki said into Cleena’s ear. Cleena’s face burned for just a moment.

‘Learn anything?’ Olympia taunted.

‘Only that wine and cheese are probably the only things that get better with age.’

Oh, that’s cold
, Sevki said.

Looking both irritated and discomforted, Lourds cleared his throat. ‘Ladies, perhaps we should stick to the agenda.’

Olympia crossed her arms and glared at Cleena. ‘If you’re looking for some sort of profit, you’re going to be sadly mistaken.’

Cleena sipped her water. ‘I know you and I don’t hang out in the same social circles, but I can tell you one thing I’ve learnt, and that is that people don’t kill each other for nothing. Whatever this thing is you’re looking for, somebody plans to profit from it. Money will be involved. Eventually.’

That, she knew, was inarguable.

Lourds followed Olympia through the narrow streets. Many of the older buildings were in their original unaltered state and dated back several centuries despite the times the city had been conquered. Street vendors occupied corners and hawked their wares.

Galata had been colonized by the Republic of Genoa in 1273. According to legend, the name had been taken from Calata, which roughly translated as ‘downward slope’. The city had also been called Pera, taken from an old Greek name that meant ‘the fig field on the other side’, referring to the Bosphorus between the two halves of the city. Most of the walls of the medieval city had been torn down first during the Fourth Crusade, when Christians fought Christians and the line had been drawn between the Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church. The remaining walls had nearly all been destroyed under Muslim rule in the nineteenth century to allow further urban expansion.

Glancing over his shoulder, he checked on Cleena. The young woman trailed him by a couple of strides and looked alert. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

‘Have you been to Istanbul before?’ he asked.

She glanced at him. ‘Making conversation?’

Lourds shrugged.

‘Yes, I have,’ she acknowledged after a moment. ‘A few times.’

‘I love the older parts. This city has a lot of history written into it.’

‘Is that what this hunt is all about? History?’

‘Yes.’

Cleena smiled at him. ‘But you’re not saying which history. The Greeks, the Romans or the Ottoman Empire.’

‘Many other cultures have lived here,’ Lourds replied.

‘But those are the big three.’

‘So they are.’

They paused at the ruins of the Palace of the Genoese, which was called the Palazzo del Commune, the Palace of the Municipality behind Bankalar Caddesi on Banks Street, which featured several Ottoman-era finance structures.

‘What have you learned from the book?’

Lourds stepped round a small group of children playing at the curb. ‘Maybe this isn’t the time to talk about it.’

‘Really? I was thinking this was the perfect time. You know, before we get to wherever we’re going?’

Lourds resettled his hat on his head and shifted his backpack over his shoulders. He didn’t say anything.

‘You
do
know where we’re going, don’t you?’ Cleena asked. ‘Your girlfriend
did
tell you, didn’t she?’

‘Somewhere safe,’ Lourds replied. ‘I’m also quite sure that Professor Adnan wouldn’t appreciate being referred to as my girlfriend.’

‘I think main squeeze would be less appreciated, don’t you?’ Cleena smiled sweetly.

Lourds chose not to respond.

‘This place we’re heading, is it somewhere
you
think is safe? Or somewhere
she
thinks is safe?’ Cleena asked.

Lourds was certain that no matter what he answered, it was going to lead to an argument.

At that moment, six men gathered round a cart of melons turned towards the trio. Lourds caught sight of them from the corner of his eye. Cleena spotted the men as well and reached under the lightweight shirt she had hanging outside her jeans.

‘Don’t!’ Olympia ordered. She walked back towards Lourds and Cleena.

Adrenaline cascaded through Lourds’ bloodstream at the men’s approach. He sought the quickest avenue of escape, but the street was packed.

Cleena had her pistol in hand out of sight beside her thigh.

‘They’re friends.’ Olympia stepped between the men and Cleena.

Personally, Lourds thought that an extremely foolish move. Cleena probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Olympia first. Before he could stop himself, Lourds stepped between Olympia and Cleena.
Now this –
this
is
stupid.

‘Perhaps,’ he suggested while mentally chastising himself, ‘you could introduce us to your friends …’ His voice trailed off as he recognized one of the young men in front of them from the catacombs. It was the man who had been dressed in monk’s robes and who had led him to safety. Today there was no robe. Instead, he wore khaki cargo pants, white and navy Chuck Taylors and a Coldplay concert T-shirt.

‘Thomas,’ Olympia said almost brightly, ‘I suppose you’ve already met Joachim.’

‘Not formally, no.’ Lourds didn’t know whether to extend a hand in greeting or take a step back. Only that would have made him an even bigger target for Cleena.

Joachim kept his face sombre and nodded. ‘Good afternoon, Professor Lourds. You have been highly spoken of.’

‘Thank you. I wish I could say the same of you.’

Olympia took the young man by the arm and smiled. For a brief instant, something close to jealousy flared through Lourds.

‘I know you’ve never met,’ Olympia said. ‘But I’m glad the two of you do have this chance. I just wish it had been under better circumstances.’

‘What does he have to do with this?’ Lourds asked.

‘Joachim is going to help us,’ Olympia explained.

‘How do you know that you can trust him?’ Cleena asked.

‘Because Joachim is my brother.’

Now that he was given more time and wasn’t as stressed out, Lourds could see the family resemblance between Olympia and Joachim. Her brother was younger than she was, although older than Lourds had first thought in the catacombs, but surely no more than late thirties.

After meeting them in the street, Joachim had guided them to an apartment building. He had rooms set up on the third floor. In addition to sleeping quarters for Lourds, Olympia, Cleena and the men, there was a sizeable kitchen and dining room, as well as a large room equipped with a conference table and computer hardware, including a satellite uplink.

‘Have you eaten, Professor Lourds?’ Joachim asked politely.

‘Not since breakfast with your sister,’ Lourds answered. ‘I had planned to take her to dinner before we were interrupted at the university.’ He put his backpack on the floor next to one of the chairs at the conference table.

‘The gunmen,’ Joachim said.

‘That would be the reason.’ Lourds sat at the table and took out the book from his backpack.

Joachim sat across from Lourds. ‘Olympia said you had no idea who the men were.’

Lourds shook his head. ‘No.’

‘Nor for whom they might be working?’

‘They were Americans. Is there any reason why the American government would be interested in this manuscript?’

‘If they knew what it represented, perhaps. If someone there ascribed to the same beliefs you and Olympia have.’ When no further explanation was forthcoming, Lourds said, ‘Because the fate of the world depends on what’s in these pages.’ He raked the ball of his thumb along the book’s pages.

Olympia sat across the table next to her brother. She frowned a little. ‘Thomas is having a little trouble believing that.’

Cleena sat with a chair between herself and Lourds. She sipped from a bottle of water, remaining quiet and watchful.

Joachim rubbed his hands together, and for the first time Lourds realized how heavily calloused they were. ‘Let me assure you, Professor, you don’t need to be a believer to help us. If you can translate that manuscript that’s all the assistance we need.’

‘You expect this to tell you where the Joy Scroll is?’

‘It will.’ Joachim’s voice carried conviction. ‘You will see.’ He took a minute to ask one of the men to prepare a meal, then turned back to Lourds. ‘We can’t very well work on empty stomachs.’

Within minutes, the smell of spices and cooking lamb filled the rooms. Lourds’ stomach growled in anticipation. He nursed a cold beer as the conversation continued.

Joachim was attentive, like a student preparing for a final.

‘You can’t read this?’ Lourds asked.

‘No,’ Joachim answered.

‘Can any of your people decipher it?’

Polite impatience flickered across Joachim’s face. ‘I assure you, if anyone among us could read that book, Olympia would not have involved you in this matter.’

‘How long has the knowledge in the book been lost?’

‘Since the time of Constantine.’

‘How did it become lost?’

‘You’re familiar with the history of this city.’

Lourds nodded.

‘In addition to the wars that have been fought over and throughout Istanbul, there have also been many natural disasters. Earthquakes. Fires. Even the passage of time has served to hide the scroll as the city fell and was raised up again and again by succeeding generations.’

‘If the scroll was written on Patmos—’

‘It was. Our histories are very clear about that.’

‘Then how did the scroll come to be here?’

‘During Constantine’s reign, he sent out many search parties to locate and take into custody relics of Jesus Christ’s life as well as early Christianity. As you know, the Roman Empire tried to suppress our religion during its infancy. They failed, but many precious things were scattered or destroyed or lost to us.’

‘Those were turbulent times,’ Lourds agreed. ‘Emperor Constantine wanted to safeguard Christianity.’

‘One of the people searching for Christian artefacts was Helena, Constantine’s mother,’ Joachim said. ‘She also had a strong belief and a strong desire to protect holy things. During her travels, she discovered the Brotherhood of the Scroll and went to the island of Patmos to negotiate on behalf of her son. Constantine only wanted the documents protected.’

‘As strong as his rule looked, and as deeply entrenched as he was in Eastern Orthodox Christianity, it would’ve made sense.’ Lourds constructed a timeline on a page of his personal journal. ‘So the Joy Scroll remained on the Island of Patmos for almost four hundred years after it was authored.’

Joachim nodded.

Helena had been a powerful figure in Emperor Constantine I’s courts. Historians attributed the discovery of the relics of the True Cross to her and her efforts to find them. The Chapel of Saint Helen, constructed to identify the Burning Bush of Sinai, had been erected on her orders. During a dig under the temple to Venus built near Calvary over the site of Jesus Christ’s tomb, her people had found three crosses. One of them was supposed to be the cross Jesus was crucified on, while the others held the thieves. According to the stories, Helena had taken a diseased woman from Jerusalem to touch the crosses. Upon touching the third cross, the woman had recovered from her ailment. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre had been built on the site, and more churches on holy sites followed thereafter. Legend had it that Helena had discovered the nails from the cross as well. Back home, she had got a blacksmith to put one in Constantine’s helmet, and another in his horse’s bridle.

‘How did Helena persuade the Brotherhood to give up the scroll?’ Lourds asked.

‘Her presence there told them the scroll was no longer safe. In those days, the Brotherhood was trained only in the ways of peace. If they had tried to defend the scroll, they would have died.’

Lourds glanced at Joachim’s calloused hands. ‘Now the Brotherhood is different?’

Sadness flickered across the other man’s face. ‘Over the years, the Brotherhood has become forced to become more than it was ever intended to be. We hang onto our peaceful nature, but we’re unafraid of violence.’

‘So you’re killers?’ Cleena asked. ‘That doesn’t make you sound much better than Qayin and his people.’

‘No!’ Joachim slapped the tabletop with his open palm hard enough to jar their drinks. ‘We do not kill. The Brotherhood has never taken a human life.’

Lourds noticed the modifier but decided not to ask.

‘If you don’t kill,’ Cleena pointed out, ‘it’s going to be hard to put up a fight.’

Joachim looked at her. ‘An incapacitated foe can’t fight any better than a dead one. We have trained ourselves to incapacitate those who threaten the scroll. We don’t have to kill to achieve our goals.’

‘Altruism aside,’ Cleena said, ‘not killing the people who are after us is going to put you at a decided disadvantage.’

‘Don’t you mean “put us”?’ Olympia asked.

‘No, I don’t.’ Cleena’s voice was perfectly neutral, but the threat was naked in her words.

Lourds sought safer conversational ground. ‘Helena convinced the Brotherhood to move the scroll?’

‘It looked like a win-win situation for the Brotherhood and Constantine,’ Olympia stated. ‘At the time of the scroll’s arrival, along with the Brotherhood, Constantine was building the Megale Ekklesia.’

‘What’s that?’ Cleena asked.

‘The literal translation is Great Church,’ Lourds answered. ‘Constantine started building it during the fourth century. He didn’t live long enough to see it completed.’

‘But he did live long enough to hide the scroll,’ Joachim said.

‘In the church?’ Distress filled Lourds. ‘The original church was destroyed a little over forty years later.’

‘Forty-four years. The church was built in 360
AD
and destroyed in 404
AD
.’

Lourds waved a hand in acknowledgement. If he had known where he was supposed to be looking, he would have known the dates too. Scholars didn’t have to know everything. All they had to know was where to find everything.

‘John Chrysostom was appointed archbishop of the Church of the Holy Wisdom, as the Great Church was named in those days by Constantine—’