Sepulchre (37 page)

'They never found out who was responsible?'

 

'Don't think so, no.' Hal stopped in front of another plaster statue. 'St Anthony, the Hermit,' he said. 'Famous Egyptian saint of the third, fourth century.'

This information drove any thoughts of Gélis out of Meredith's mind. The Hermit. Another card from the major arcana. The evidence to prove that the Bousquet Tarot had been painted in the area was overwhelming. This tiny church dedicated to Mary Magdalene was testament to that. The only thing Meredith wasn't clear about was how the Domaine de la Cade fitted in.

And how, if at all, this connects with my family?

Meredith forced herself to concentrate on the matter in hand. No sense muddling everything up together. What if Hal's father was right in his suggestion that everything in Rennes-le-Château had been constructed precisely to draw attention away from its sister village down in the valley? There was a logic to it, but Meredith needed to know more before jumping to any conclusions.

'Have you seen enough?' Hal asked. 'Or do you want to stick around longer?'

 

Still thinking, Meredith shook her head. 'I'm done.'

They didn't talk much as they walked back up to the car. The gravel on the path crunched loudly under their feet, like tightly packed snow. It had gotten cooler since they'd been inside and the air was heavy with the smell of bonfires.

Hal unlocked the car, then looked back over his shoulder.

'Three corpses were found buried in the grounds of the Villa Béthania in the 1950s,' he said. All were male, aged between thirty and forty, and they had all been shot, although one of the bodies at least had been very badly mauled by wild animals. The official verdict was that they'd been killed during the war - the Nazis occupied some of this part of France, and the Resistance was pretty active down here. But local belief is that the bodies were older, end of the nineteenth century, that they were connected with the fire at the Domaine de la Cade and, possibly, also the murder of the priest in Coustaussa.'

Meredith looked at Hal over the roof of the car. 'Was the fire started deliberately? I read it was.'

 

Hal shrugged. 'Local history is sketchy on the point, but the general consensus is that it was.'

 

'But if these three men were involved - in either the fire or the murder - who do people think killed them?'

 

At that moment Hal's cell phone rang. He flipped the lid and glanced at the number. His eyes sharpened.

 

'I need to take this,' he said, covering the speaker. 'Sorry.' Inwardly Meredith groaned with frustration, but there was nothing she could do. 'Of course, go ahead,' she said.

 

She climbed into the car and watched as Hal wandered over to a fir tree near the Tour Magdala to talk.

No such thing as coincidence. Everything happens for a reason. She leant back against the headrest and ran through everything that had happened, the sequence of events from the moment she'd stepped off the train at the Gare du Nord. No, after that. From the moment she set foot on the colourful painted steps that led up to Laura's rooms.

Meredith pulled her notebook out of her purse and glanced over her notes, looking for answers. The real question was, which was the story she was chasing down here, which the echo? She was in Rennes-les-Bains searching for her own family history. Did the cards fit in with that in any way? Or was it a completely different, unrelated story? Of academic interest, but nothing to do with her? Did she even have a connection with the Domaine de la Cade? The Verniers?

What had Laura said? Meredith flipped back through her notes until she found it.

 

'The timeline is confused. The sequence seems to be jumping backwards and forwards, as if there is some blurring of events. Things slipping between past and present.'

 

She glanced through the window at Hal, who was now walking back towards the car, holding his cell clenched in his hand. The other was dug deep into his pocket.

Where does he fit into all this? 'Hi?' she said, as he opened the door. 'Is everything OK?' He got in. 'Sorry, Meredith. I was going to suggest we went for lunch, but something's come up that I need to sort out first.' 'Something good, by the look of it?' she said. 'The police commissariat handling the case in Couiza have finally agreed to let me have sight of the file into my father's accident. I've been asking for this for weeks, so it's a step forward.'

'That's great, Hal,' hoping it would be and that he wasn't getting his hopes up for no reason.

'So I can either drop you back at the hotel,' he continued, 'or you could come with me and we'll find somewhere to eat later. Only problem with that is I'm not sure how long I'll be. They don't always move fast down here.'

For a moment Meredith was tempted to tag along. Give Hal moral support. But she figured it was something he needed to do on his own. Besides, she needed to focus on her own stuff for a while, not let herself get sucked into Hal's problems.

'Sounds like you might be a while,' she said. 'If you don't mind dropping me back at the hotel on your way, that would be fine.'

 

She was gratified to see Hal's expression falter, just for a moment.

 

'It's probably better I go alone in any case, since they are doing me a favour.'

 

'That's what I guessed,' she said, briefly touching his hand.

 

Hal fired the ignition and reversed the car.

 

'Then what about later?' he said, as he negotiated the narrow street out of Rennes-le-Château. 'We could meet for a drink. Dinner, even? If you've not got plans.'

 

'Sure,' she smiled, keeping it cool. 'Dinner would be good.'

 

CHAPTER 49

Julian Lawrence was standing at his study window at the Domaine de la Cade as his nephew turned the car and drove back down the long drive, He switched his attention to the woman who'd just got out and who was now waving goodbye. The American, he presumed.

He nodded his approval. Good figure, athletic but petite, straight dark hair to her shoulders. It wouldn't be such a trial to spend a little time in her company.

 

Then she turned round and he got a proper look at her.

Julian recognised her, although couldn't place her. He dug into his memory, until it came to him. The pushy bitch from the traffic hold-up in Rennes-les-Bains last night. The American accent.

Another flash of paranoia shot through him. If Ms Martin was here working with Hal, and had mentioned she'd seen him driving into the town, his nephew might legitimately question where he'd been. Might realise the excuse Julian had given for being late didn't make sense.

He drained his glass, then made a snap decision. He crossed the study in three strides, pulled his jacket from the back of the door and walked out to intercept her in the lobby.

 

On the journey back from Rennes-le-Château, Meredith started to feel excited. Before, Laura's gift had felt a burden. Now, the Tarot cards seemed full of intriguing possibilities.

She waited until Hal's car disappeared from view, then turned and headed up the steps to the main door of the hotel. She felt nervous, but fired up too. The same contradictory feelings she'd experienced when sitting with Laura were back and big time. Hope versus scepticism, the prickling anticipation versus the fear that she was putting two and two together and coming up with five.

'Ms Martin?'

Caught by surprise, Meredith turned in the direction of the voice to see Hal's uncle striding towards her across the lobby. She tensed, hoping after their bad-tempered exchange in Rennes-les-Bains last night, he wouldn't recognise her. But today, he was smiling.

'Ms Martin?' he said, holding out his hand. 'Julian Lawrence. I just wanted to welcome you to the Domaine de la Cade,' he said. 'Thank you.' They shook hands.

'Also,' he stopped, giving a slight shrug, 'also I wanted to apologise if I was rather abrupt yesterday, in the town. If I'd known you were a friend of my nephew's, I would of course have introduced myself then.'

Meredith coloured up. 'I didn't think you'd remember me, Mr Lawrence. I'm afraid I was pretty rude myself.'

 

'Not in the slightest. As I'm sure Hal told you, it was a rather difficult day for us all yesterday.

It's no excuse, I know, but. . .' He left the apology hanging.
Meredith noticed how he had the same habit as Hal of staring right at a person with an unwavering gaze that seemed to blot out everything else. And, although some thirty years older, he'd got that same kind of charisma as Hal, a way of filling the space. She wondered if Hal's father had been the same.

'Of course,' she said. 'I'm sorry for your loss, Mr Lawrence.' 'Julian, please. And thank you. It was a shock.' He paused. 'Speaking of my nephew, Ms Martin, I don't suppose you know where he's disappeared off to? I was under the impression you were going to Rennes-le-Château this morning but that he would be here this afternoon. I had been hoping to have a word with him.'

'We did go, but a call just came through from the police station, so he dropped me off before going to to deal with things. Couiza, I think he said.'

She sensed a sharpening of interest, even though Julian's expression didn't change. Immediately Meredith regretted letting the information out. 'What sort of things?' he said. 'He didn't really say,' she said in a rush.

'Pity, I had hoped for a word.' He shrugged. 'But it's nothing that can't wait.' He smiled again, but this time it failed to reach his eyes. 'I trust you're enjoying your stay with us? You have everything you need?' 'Everything's great.' She glanced at the stairs. 'Forgive me,' he said. 'I'm holding you up.' 'I've got some stuff I need to .. .' Julian nodded. 'Ah, yes. Hal mentioned you were a writer. Are you here working on an assignment?'

Meredith felt pinned to the spot. Kind of trapped.

 

'Not really,' she replied. 'At least, a little research.'

 

Is that so?' He offered his hand. 'In which case, I won't delay you further.'

 

Not wishing to be rude, Meredith took it. This time, the touch of his skin made her uncomfortable. Too personal, somehow.

 

'If you see my nephew before I catch up with him,' he said, squeezing her fingers a little too tight, 'do let him know I'm looking for him, won't you?'

 

Meredith nodded. 'Sure.'

 

Then he let her go. He turned and walked back across the lobby without a backward glance.

Clear message. He was confident, sure of himself, in control. Meredith let a long breath escape from between her lips, wondering exactly what had just happened. She stood staring into the empty space where Julian had been. Then, mad at herself for letting him get to her again, she pulled herself together.

Put it out of your mind.

She glanced around. The desk clerk was dealing with a query and facing the opposite direction. From the noise coming from the restaurant, Meredith figured most guests were already in the dining room having lunch. Perfect for what she had in mind.

She walked quickly across the red and black tiles, ducked round beside the piano and reached up and took the photograph of Anatole and Léonie Vernier and Isolde Lascombe from the wall. She slipped it beneath her jacket, then doubled back and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Only when she was back in her room, with the door safely shut behind her, did her breathing return to normal. She paused a moment, narrowed her eyes and looked around the room.

There was something about the atmosphere that seemed different. An alien smell, very subtle, but there all the same. She wrapped her arms around herself, remembering her nightmare. Then she shook her head. Don't do this. The maids had been in to make up the bed. Besides, she thought, it wasn't at all like what she'd felt in the night. Dreamed, she corrected herself.

Just a dream.

 

Then, there was a definite sense of someone being in the room with her. A presence, a chill in the air. Now, it was just. . .

Meredith shrugged. Polish or cleaning product, that was all. It wasn't so strong. Not really. Although she couldn't help wrinkling up her nose. Like the smell of the sea washing stagnant on the shore.

CHAPTER 50

 

Meredith went straight to the closet and retrieved the Tarot deck, unfolding the four corners of black silk as if the cards inside were made of glass.

The unsettling image of the Tower was on the top, the brooding grey and green of the background and the trees more vivid here in the clouded afternoon than they had seemed in Paris. She paused a moment, suddenly thinking that maybe it had been Justice on the top of the pile when Laura pressed the cards upon her, then shrugged. Obviously not.

She cleared a space on the bureau and put the cards down, then pulled out her notebook from her purse, wishing she'd taken the time last night to transpose her scribbled notes about the reading from page to screen.

Meredith thought for a moment, trying to figure out if she laid out the ten cards that had come up yesterday, in the peace and quiet of her own thoughts, then she might see something more in them. She decided against it. She was less interested in the reading per se than in the historical data she was gathering about the Bousquet Tarot and how the cards fitted in to the story of the Domaine de la Cade, the Verniers and the Lascombe family.

Meredith searched the deck until she had found all twenty-two of the major arcana. Putting the remainder of the cards to one side, she then laid them out in three rows one above the other, placing the Fool at the top on his own, just like Laura had done. The cards felt different to the touch. Yesterday they'd made her nervous. As if she was committing herself to something even by handling them. Today they seemed - and she knew it sounded stupid kind of well meaning.

She slid the framed photograph from under her jacket and propped it on the bureau in front of her and studied the black and white figures, frozen in time. Then she dropped her eyes to the colourful images on the cards.

For a moment, her attention rested on Le Pagad, with his blue, blue eyes and thick black hair, gathering all the symbols of the Tarot to him. An attractive image, but a man to be trusted?

Then the tingling feeling on her neck started over, licking all the way down her spine as a new idea took hold. Was it possible? She put the Magician to one side. She picked up card I, Le Mat, and held it against the framed photograph. Now she had them side by side, she had no doubt the man was 'Monsieur Vernier' brought to life. The same debonair expression, the slim figure, the black moustache.