The Cathari Treasure (Cameron Kincaid) (12 page)

“Merci,” said Marie.  “Merci,”
said Cameron and Nicole.

After Christophe left for the
kitchen, Cameron put his hands on his lap.  “This food looks marvelous,”
said Cameron.  “Too bad about the mushrooms, the chanterelles are a
delicacy.”

Marie reached over to the
stuffed mushrooms and picked one up, “Actually I prefer morels,” said Marie,
and then bit into the cap.  “Yum, delicious.”

“But I thought you said…”

Nicole interrupted, “She said
what she was supposed to, ordering the white swan was not enough.”

“Oh,” said Cameron.

Marie lifted the domed lid from
the plate revealing an envelope pinned between small cakes.  She took the
envelope, broke the wax seal, and then lifted the flap to look inside. 
“The question was a secondary measure.  The information in this envelope
is quite precious.  These gentlemen do not even know its contents.”

“It is the location of the
Perfect.  Correct?”

“Yes.  A new envelope is
sent by messenger each week and the one from the week before is destroyed by
fire in the presence of at least three.”

Cameron put his fork into an
olive, “And you know this because…” asked Cameron.  He put the olive into
his mouth.  Nicole answered,  “Our security methods are old, simple,
and efficient.  This is the way this has been done for hundreds of years.”

“But if somebody got a hold of
the envelope, they would have the secret.”

Marie handed the envelope across
the table, “It would mean nothing to anyone other then those sending and those
for whom it is intended.  Even our friends here would not know the
meaning.”

Cameron took the envelope and
looked inside.  On a small card was a blue outline of a dove.  “And
you know what this means?” asked Cameron.

“It means you will need a big
appetite,” said Marie.

* * *
* *

Toronto

They arrived at their next destination
soon after leaving the CN Tower.  Though the distance was short enough to
walk, Marie suggested they park the car a few blocks away.  After finding
a public lot to park near Trinity College, they walked over to Yonge Street.

They easily found the address
they were looking for.  Built some time near the beginning of the last
century, the two-story building was sandwiched between two others from
different eras, one more ancient, and the other no more than a decade
old.  Though Yonge Street was a long established Toronto artery, Cameron
could see no main architectural theme.  A few blocks toward the lake from
where they stood, forty story buildings randomly shot up interspersed with two
and three story buildings, an architectural potpourri.  Cameron remembered
reading somewhere that Yonge Street was the longest street in the world and
wondered now if a lack of continuity shouldered the curbs the entire
thousand-mile length.

When they got to the building
Cameron understood why Marie quipped that he may need a big appetite.  The
remark had been an attempt at humor.

Across the first floor glass
facade were the words ‘Thai Lotus Flower Restaurant’ in tall saffron letters
above and below a sizable disk of the same color.  A lotus flower was
stenciled within the disk, a simple Buddhist mandala Cameron recognized from
his trips to the Far East.

The modern dining room was
overdone in saffron.  Geometric shaped panels of coarse saffron fabric
covered the saffron walls and cushioned benches of the same shade ran the full
length of the room.  Several dark wooden tables lined the benches and a
few larger round tables ran through the center of the room.  Large milky
globes, giant upside down lollipops thought Cameron, hung from the ceiling in
two uniformed rows, bathing the room in an even ambient light.

At the back of the restaurant
was a backlit acrylic wall with water cascading down the face.  Seated in
front of the water wall a thin Thai Buddha statue sitting cross-legged and open
palmed, smiled softly at the room already busy with an early dinner crowd of
tourists grabbing a bite on their way to or from one of the many musicals that
played in the area.

“So how does a blue dove equate
to a Thai restaurant?” asked Cameron.

“It was not a blue dove,” said
Marie, “it was a zebra dove.”

Cameron smirked at Marie and
Nicole added, “The zebra dove is native to Thailand.”

“So you knew that symbol meant
the Lotus Flower?”

“So we knew,” said Marie.

Cameron pulled open the heavy
glass door and gestured to Marie and Nicole to step inside.  A warm vapor
of ginger wafted passed them through the door.  A young thin Thai man with
scruffy orange hair and a shiny blue silk suit greeted them with an open smile
that lowered his jaw down to his collar.  “I have this,” said Cameron to
Marie.  He then said to the man, “Swạsdī reā kảlạng
mxng hā pheụ ̀xn.”

The man’s jaw came together and
the corners of his mouth pulled back.  “Listen fella,” said the young man,
“I barely speak the old language.”

“Sorry,” said Cameron, “I said
that we were looking for a friend.”

“A lot of people here
tonight.”  The young man craned his head back behind him to view the
entirety of the room, “Do you see your friend?”

Marie glanced at Cameron and
then leaned to the man’s ear.  Though she whispered, Cameron could hear
the two words clearly.  They were ‘white swan’.

The man’s smile returned to an
open jaw and he lifted his right hand to the side of his head to run his
fingers through his already mussed hair.  “Ah,” said the young man, “I
know your friend, and I will take you to her.  Follow me.”  He turned
into the dining room and headed to the back of the room without turning back,
taking long strides with his lean limber body.  The three exchanged
satisfied glances and began to pursue the young man before he left them behind.

Large portions of noodles and
rice filled each table they passed, offering aromas of basil, ginger, or the
unmistakable tang that could only come from sweet chili sriracha, and when they
entered the kitchen, those aromas grew substantially.  New and clean with
lots of stainless steel, the kitchen was an organized pandemonium of saffron
bloused wait staff along one side and a line of scurrying cooks along the
other.  Large bright white ceramic tiles covering the walls echoed back
all of the clanging and chirping of the busy hour.  Nicole ducked her head
down to see below the many pans hanging above a center counter to see what she
could of the gas stove tops shooting flames against the far wall and the three
short Thai cooks that each appeared to have three to four arms at the speed
which they were moving.

Halfway through the kitchen the
orange haired man slipped around the end of a stainless counter that hugged the
wall and pushed a tall stainless steel metro rack forward to reveal a pocket
door.  He then slid open the pocket door and disappeared into the
wall.  The three followed him inside to a small room.  To the right
was a stack of empty crates and large bags of onions and rice, to the left
dozens of plastic containers full of dried spice filled another metro
rack.  The orange haired man pulled the spice covered rack away from the
wall revealing yet another pocket door.  Behind this door was a stairwell
that led back toward the front of the building, lit only by a small window at
the top of the stairs.  Close behind each other, Cameron, Marie, and
Nicole squeezed through the space between the metro rack and the doorframe and
climbed the creaky wooden steps.

Standing below the small
circular window on the top landing, the young man’s orange hair looked dirty
brown and his blue suit no longer had sheen.  Without the flamboyant props
and animated smile Cameron saw the young man for what he was, a boy in his late
teens.

The young man wrapped on a metal
door in a broken rhythm, waited a second, and then repeated.  The door
opened as Nicole reached the landing.  At the top of the door, a thin
brass security chain kept the door from opening more than a few inches. 
Near the bottom of the door, Cameron could see a heavy steel chain was also in
place.  The young man rattled off something in Thai that sounded to
Cameron loosely translated like ‘they have arrived’.  Cameron turned to
Marie and Nicole and grinned.  The young man had developed a sudden
recollection of the old language.

Through the door, they saw first
a man’s forehead and then an eye briefly peek around the edge of the
door.  The door then shut with a thud.  They could hear the sound of
the security chain being unfastened from the door and the heavy chain below
falling to the floor with a clank.  Then the door opened again, this time
wide.

* * *
* *

Toronto

An old balding Thai man with
thick glasses stood in the doorway.  He wore a sweater buttoned over a white-collar
shirt that was closed all the way to the top and his black slacks fit
loosely.  The old man reminded Cameron of someone’s grandfather.

“Come in, come in,” said the old
man.  Cameron was surprised by the man’s deep
froggy
voice and unmistakable British accent.

The young man turned away from
the door.  “There you go,” said the young man, punctuated with another of
his open mouth smiles.  He slid by Cameron and the women back down the
stairs.

The older man stepped back from
the door, “Welcome, I am Ananda.”

“Hello, my name is Cameron.”

Cameron stepped through the
door.  He held his hand out to the old man only to have his wrist grabbed
by Marie.  Cameron flashed Marie a glance and she subtly shook her
head.  Cameron lowered his arm and proceeded to introduce Marie and
Nicole.  “Ananda,” said Cameron, “this is --.”

“--Miss Marie and Miss Nicole,”
interrupted Ananda.

“Bénisse, personne n'est content
que nous,” the women said almost in unison with their heads bowed.  Ananda
returned the greeting.

Something occurred to Cameron,
neither of the women had met Ananda before, yet he knew them by name. 
Ananda had been waiting for them after all and was sincerely pleased to see
them.

Faded pink floral wallpaper
covered the walls and white panel curtains muted the daylight, making the room
hazy and ethereal.  The only furniture in the room was an old sofa that
sat between an empty coffee table and the windows and against the far wall, an
old round tapestry covered table.  On the table were a small Buddha statue
much like the one in the restaurant below and a short lamp with an embroidered
shade and hanging red tassels.  The French doors centered on the interior
wall were draped and closed.

Ananda shut the door and
refastened the security chain.  Cameron could now see, though the upper
chain was as any he had seen before, the ends of the heavy bottom chain were
permanently anchored into the floor to insure no one was able to get through
the door while the chain was fastened.  The length of the chain was threaded
through three thick eyebolts screwed into the bottom of the door, fastening the
door to the apartment.  If the hinges were ever broken, the door would
still be chained to the floor.  Ananda pulled the slack of the chain tight
and slipped a thick padlock through the doubled up links.  The door could
not be opened without unlocking the padlock.  Ananda turned the key in the
padlock, then removed and slipped the key into his pocket when he stood. 
Ananda then turned back to his three visitors and smiled.  “Are you
hungry?  Would you like some tea?” asked Ananda, adding quickly before any
had a chance to reply, “I only have tea here, but I can call downstairs for
anything you like.”

“Merci, that is very generous,”
said Marie.  “We ate.”

“But of course you did,” said
Ananda, “I understand the food at the tower is very good.”  He winked at
Nicole and she smiled in return.  “Probably just as well that we do not
dawdle.”  His eyes focused on something in front of them that could not be
seen.  “She has been asking for you.  It is not long now,” Ananda
hung his head for a short moment.  When Ananda lifted his head again his
pleasant demeanor returned.  “But that is why you have been sent
for.”  Nicole offered her arms to the old grandfather, “No,” said Ananda,
“I may no longer feel the touch of a woman.”  He closed his eyes tightly,
“I feel your compassion though.”

Nicole closed her eyes tightly
for a moment and then said, “Parcite Nobis.  For all the sins I have ever
done in thought, word, and deed.  I ask pardon of God, of the Church, and
of you.  Bless me lord and pray for me.  Lead us to our rightful
end.”

“God bless you.  In our
prayers, we ask from God to make a good Christian out of you and lead you to
your rightful end.  So you are blessed.  Are you now ready young Nicole?”

“This is the life I have
chosen,” said Nicole.

Cameron did not realize at that
time the significance of Nicole’s answer and would later think back on the
words.