The Deadly Game (20 page)

Jake watched, transfixed, as Waning’s gloved fingers took hold of the ends of the leather strips that formed the small slip knot, and began to gently prise at them. After over five hundred years of being buried in soil, Jake wondered if they would be supple enough to be untied, or would they simply crack? Either way, the excitement and expectation in him at what was about to be revealed almost stopped him from breathing. He and Michelle watched in rapt silence as — in magnified close-up — Waning’s gloved fingers teased and pulled at the knotted leather. There was obviously resistance.

‘I am now using a small tool to aid undoing the knot,’ announced Waning, and they watched as she took a small metal probe, rather like a small screwdriver, and used it to prise the strands of leather apart. Finally, the knot was undone.

‘I am now opening the outer casing,’ said Waning.

With that she carefully peeled back the old leather flaps of the protective casing, to reveal a small book inside. The covers and binding of the book appeared to be green. Waning slid the opened black leather casing from beneath the book, and pushed it to one side. There was now just the small green book in the centre of the glass case.

‘I am opening the cover of the book,’ said Waning.

Jake held his breath, unable to speak, unable to do anything. This had been the point when the last book had proved dangerous, as the hidden spores exploded. Although he knew that they were all protected from whatever may be inside the glass case by the airtight seals, if there were any hazards now exposed, it would delay the proper examination of the book by Michelle for her article.

The green cover, which appeared to be made of some sort of thick card, was turned over, revealing a blank page beneath.

Jake’s eyes went to the monitors registering the conditions inside the glass case. No changes. No hazards so far.

He switched his attention back to the CCTV screen with the book in tight close-up. He saw the ends of Waning’s gloved fingers delicately touch the blank page, and then lift it and move it gently back, to reveal writing on the next page.

‘The first leaf of the book is blank,’ said Waning. ‘I suspect it is merely an endpaper. Beneath that is a title page, stating . . .’

Jake repeated the words to himself that he saw on the screen as Waning read them out:

‘“Physikiana”, with a subtitle in Latin which translates as “A treatise on changing physical appearances by magic”. The name of the author is given as Roger Bacon.’

‘Wow!’ Jake heard Michelle gasp beside him.

He turned to look at her. She was staring into the lab, at the book inside the glass case, a look of awe on her face. She turned to him, suddenly animated.

‘Roger Bacon! This is even better than I’d hoped for!’

‘He’s good?’ As Jake asked the question, he felt stupid. He rummaged around in his memory for things Lauren might have told him about Roger Bacon. He dimly remembered her telling him something about the man, but that had been a long time ago, when they’d first been going out together, and at that time he hadn’t paid as much attention to her interest in what were called ‘unorthodox sciences’ as he should have; he’d been only interested in her: the way she looked, the way she laughed, the way she made him feel.

‘You don’t know about Roger Bacon?’ said Michelle, and there was a note of outraged accusation in her voice.

‘Well, I
do
,’ said Jake defensively. ‘But not as much as I should,’ he added lamely.

‘Thirteenth-century genius, philosopher and scientist,’ said Michelle. ‘He taught at Oxford, and in Paris, and elsewhere. He wrote some of the most important works on astronomy and astrology . . .’

‘Horoscopes?’ queried Jake.

Michelle shook her head.

‘Real astrology,’ she said. ‘Not the crappy fortune-telling stuff you see in the papers. Bacon was the real thing! He wrote the
Opus Maju,
which deals with things like microscopes, telescopes, hydraulics, steam ships, flying machines, long before someone actually produced them!’

More confirmation of Lauren’s theory that we’d have been in space hundreds of years before we were, if these books hadn’t been hidden, reflected Jake.

‘So this book . . .’ He gestured towards the observation window, at Lucy Waning slowly turning the pages of the book.

‘“Changing physical appearances by magic”,’ said Michelle, the note of awe still in her voice. ‘This is wilder than anything else he ever did, and if Bacon says it’s possible, then I bet you it is!’

‘So do I, Ms Faure,’ said a voice behind them.

Jake whirled round, and found himself looking into the beaming face of Alex Munro. The door had opened so quietly he hadn’t heard him come in.

Jake, open-mouthed in shock, stared at Munro. He turned to Michelle, expecting to find her as astonished as he was. Or rather, he expected her to look as if she was wondering who this strange man in the neat dark suit was. But Michelle just looked uncomfortable, and turned away from the bewildered Jake.

‘Good to see you again, Jake,’ said Munro pleasantly. ‘And thank you for bringing us the book.’ He gestured at the lab around them. ‘We own this facility. Through another company, of course.’

Jake continued to stare at Michelle, who wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

‘Michelle!’ he appealed.

She turned to him, awkward and ashamed.

‘Pierce Randall offered me a really good deal,’ she said. ‘Too good to say no to.’

‘A good deal?’ echoed Jake, still in a state of shock.

‘Money, and a very well-paid job with our public relations department,’ said Munro. ‘The sort of offer we tried to make to you. But you said no.’

‘But . . .’ burbled Jake, still stunned. He turned to Michelle and asked: ‘When did they offer this to you?’

‘Right at the start,’ said Michelle. ‘Before we even met.’

‘So, that business of me being kidnapped, and you finding me . . .’

‘Was a set-up,’ said Munro. ‘You weren’t harmed . . .’

‘You chloroformed me!’ raged Jake.

Munro shrugged.

‘A relatively harmless procedure,’ he said. ‘Our people knew what they were doing. You were never at risk.’

‘Oh no? Two men tried to kill me! They were going to shred me up and feed me to pigs!’

Munro shook his head.

‘They were nothing to do with us,’ he said. ‘Why should we do anything like that? We had you where we wanted you. And, if you found a book, you’d bring it here to us. There was no need for any violence on our part.’

‘So, who were they? Those men?’

‘I don’t know,’ Munro admitted. ‘Competitors, obviously. Possibly mercenaries, hired to get hold of any book you managed to find.’ He gave a slight smile. ‘Your reputation as someone who finds the lost books of Malichea has spread, Jake. You’re becoming quite famous among those who want the hidden library.’

Jake glared at him grimly.

‘This book is mine,’ he said.

Munro shook his head.

‘Officially, the book doesn’t exist. So it belongs to whoever has it in their possession. Right now, that’s us, Pierce Randall. Our employee, Ms Faure, discovered the book and brought it here.’

‘
I
discovered it!’ stormed Jake. ‘Me and Robert, and a sniffer dog!’

Munro shrugged again.

‘That is debatable,’ he said. ‘Of course, you can always sue us and try and recover the book that way. All you need is a firm of very good solicitors.’ He smiled. ‘But I would remind you that we at Pierce Randall are the very best.’

Munro looked at the CCTV monitors, where Lucy Waning was still turning the pages of the book.

‘It appears to be safe from any kind of toxins,’ he murmured. He smiled. ‘Roger Bacon: “A treatise on changing physical appearances by magic”. I can think of many of our clients who would be greatly interested in the information contained in these pages, and would pay very well for it. We might even have an auction for it.’

Raging with fury, Jake moved towards Munro, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

Munro stepped back and called out: ‘Security!’

Immediately, two tough-looking men stepped into the room. The room, already cramped, now felt like being inside a small lift.

‘I need that book!’ snarled Jake. ‘I need the knowledge of that book to be made public! I put my life on the line to find it! My friend Robert is near death because of it!’

‘And all of that could have been avoided if you’d taken me up on my offer,’ said Munro. ‘What I will do, Jake, is get the dogs off you. We’ll spread the word that we have the book, and you no longer do. The people who are after this book will know that’s true, and they’ll stop chasing you. You’ll be safe.’

‘That book is mine!’ insisted Jake. ‘I found it! It belongs to me!’

‘It belonged to the Order of Malichea,’ corrected Munro. ‘It belongs to whoever takes final possession of it. As our employee, I believe Ms Faure has a very strong claim. I believe, for a start, that it was she who suggested looking at Glastonbury.’

‘Yes, but . . .’ protested Jake.

‘No buts, Jake,’ said Munro. ‘This meeting is at an end.’ Turning to the two security men, he said: ‘Escort Mr Wells out of the building. And make sure he doesn’t return.’

The two burly men stepped forward and grabbed Jake, and hustled him out of the small room. His last sight was of one of the screens, and Lucy Waning’s gloved fingers turning another page of the book.

Chapter 31

Jake stood in front of Gareth’s desk in the large imposing office on the third floor of the Department of Science. He was angry, ashamed at being duped by Michelle Faure and Pierce Randall, and deeply guilty over what had happened to Robert. After he’d been escorted from the lab building at Waterloo, part of him had wanted to run away and hide. But that wouldn’t help Lauren. He needed to get her back to England. And he wanted revenge against Pierce Randall. And so he’d returned to his office, and asked to see Gareth.

‘I’m not even sure why I agreed to see you,’ snapped Gareth. ‘I should have sacked you. I should have had your pass locked out so you couldn’t even get into the building.’

‘I can get you Pierce Randall,’ said Jake.

Gareth scoffed.

‘You can’t even keep one tiny book when you get hold of it,’ he said. ‘And what makes you think we want Pierce Randall?’

‘They want the books out there to make money from. You want the books to stay hidden,’ said Jake.

Gareth shook his head.

‘I told you before all this started, we can live with Pierce Randall,’ he said flatly. ‘We know their position, they know ours. It’s a mutual stand-off. We are not planning on entering into a war with Pierce Randall. It could seriously harm us. We have learnt to live with the status quo, the way things are.’

Jake frowned, puzzled.

‘Then why did you agree to see me?’ he asked.

‘To cut you adrift,’ said Gareth. ‘And to explain to you personally, why I am doing it. You are a liability, Jake. You’ve caused more problems that anyone else over the Order of Malichea. I thought that having you in the department would mean we’d be able to keep a watchful eye on you and stop you doing anything stupid. That obviously isn’t the case, it seems it only encourages you, despite my firm instructions to you to the contrary.’

‘But . . .’ began Jake, about to launch a defence; but he was cut short by Gareth’s expression: anger — kept in check by Gareth’s self-discipline.

‘You will be sacked with immediate effect,’ Gareth said. ‘You will receive three months’ salary as severance. You will not be allowed to work in any government department. If you attempt to publicise the Order of Malichea or the hidden library, you will find yourself in jail.’ His eyes became dark gimlets that bored into Jake as he added, in a threatening tone: ‘And if you persist, worse may happen to you. Do you understand?’

Numbly, Jake nodded. Gareth’s expression softened slightly, and he added, in a quieter voice: ‘I will give you one concession. I know why you did what you tried to do, and a part of me is romantic enough to admire someone who tries to do something for the woman he loves.’

What Gareth had just said, and the quiet almost wistful way he said it, staggered Jake.

‘We will allow you to make one Skype call to Ms Graham and tell her what has happened; and the fact that you lost the book; and that you have been sacked. We will allow you to make this call without censorship at either end, although it will be monitored. You will also be able to tell her the good news that her cousin has recovered consciousness and will make a full recovery.’

Jake looked at Gareth with relief flooding through him.

‘Robert’s all right?’ he asked, still unsure.

‘As all right as anyone can be who’s got a fractured skull and was beaten as badly as he was,’ said Gareth. ‘But, yes. I heard this morning from the hospital with the good news. As for the man you shot . . .’

‘I didn’t!’ protested Jake. Then his eyes dropped and he said, ‘It was self-defence.’

‘As I understand it, they were trapped inside a car by air bags at the time,’ countered Gareth.