The Secret Of The Cathars (2011) (7 page)

He ignored her attempts to reassure him. For now he was more interested in what was going on at le Bezu
.
“How long are they going to be there?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“
I don’t know. The whole summer, I would say. These archaeologists do things by the season, don’t they? I can tell you they’re not likely to be gone in a fortnight.” She looked at him carefully. “Why? Is it important?”

He didn’t know her well enough yet to trust her, so he shook his head, trying to suggest it was irrelevant. “It’s just interesting when other researchers coincidentally turn up in the same area. But you say they’re only looking for Cathar remains?”

“
So they tell me. Mind you, I haven’t got really close to any of the archaeologists yet.”

“
Are they on the site all the time?”

“
Most days, I think. I understand they’re staying at a hotel in Cuillan. That’s on the Limoux to Axat road.”

“
I think we ought to find out some more about what they’re doing - how big an area they’re excavating; how long they are likely to be there - that sort of thing.”

She looked at him quizzically but didn’t question his interest, “I could drop in to the hotel for a drink one night, if you want me to.”

Hebert nodded. “That might be useful.”

“
My cover would be perfect for quizzing them about what they’re doing - all back-up research for my series. I may even get myself invited up to inspect the dig.”

“
That would be good. If you do visit the castle I would like to come with you.”

“
It’s quite a scramble getting up to the castle. It’s on a very high ridge. Probably there used to be steps but they’ve disappeared now. I believe there are some ropes to hang on to but the climb is quite demanding.”

“
I shall be quite all right, thank you,” he said stiffly, suddenly aware of his age.

There was an uncomfortable silence while he searched for a way to change the conversation. At last he said, “Forgive me but you don’t seem the same type of person as Montlucon or Mickey whatever-he’s-called.”

“
I should hope not,” she burst out. “When I was growing up I believe I was a bit of a wild kid in the streets of Marseilles. But then my father decided he wanted me to be properly educated. So when I was ten he sent me to a convent school to turn me into a lady.” She shuddered. “Oh, I hated the discipline that those nuns imposed on me. But I admit they taught me how to behave. Then I went to university in Lyons to complete my education. It was the university which made me what I am.” She put her head on one side. “I
am
a real journalist, you know.”

“
I don’t doubt it.”

“
So I won’t have any problems convincing people that I have a genuine right to be here. My current employment will also enable me to go just about anywhere without questions being asked.” She looked at him sceptically. “What about you? Don’t you think you stick out like a sore thumb?”

“
I don’t have any problems.” Slightly nettled, he told her about his cover researching the Templars. “Like you, the story is close enough to the truth to stand close scrutiny. If anybody is suspicious enough to check with Paris they’ll be told the same story there.”

She pondered it for a while, her head on one side. “Yes,” she concluded. “I think you’ll do.”

“
In fact,” he added, “the two of us fit together well. Nobody would think it suspicious if we met up from time to time to compare notes. It’s just the kind of thing that two researchers into similar projects might do.”

Her smile made her look most attractive. “Why not? Were you thinking of offering to take me to dinner tonight?”

“
I would very much like to do that. Where are you staying?”

They exchanged addresses and mobile phone numbers and arranged to meet later. When she rose and left, Alain watched her depart down the road with her long, easy stride and found he was looking forward to the evening ahead with a cheerfulness which he hadn’t felt for a long time.

It was one evening several days later when Alain hurried to open the door in response to the urgent knocking. Standing outside in the pitch darkness was a breathless and somewhat dishevelled Cesar.

“
What’s the matter?”

“
Can I come in?”

“
Of course.” He stood aside to let her through.

“
I need a drink.” She ran her hands through her untidy hair. “A strong drink.”

“
Cognac?”

“
That’ll do for a start.”

He went to the cabinet, took out two brandy glasses. It worried him to see such a strong and self-confident woman appearing to be so distressed. He poured a large drink for her and a smaller one for himself. He came back and gave her the glass.

“
Sit down.” He indicated the armchair he’d been occupying a few minutes before. She collapsed into the chair and took a gulp of the brandy. He bent over her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Despite their difference in age and background, he had grown fond of her in the last few days. During that time they had spent most of their evenings together and he had discovered a pleasure in personal contact which was completely different to his previously isolated life.

“
Now, Cesar - what on earth’s the problem?”

She leaned back in the chair and took another slug of drink. She let out a shuddering sigh and began. “Well, as you know, following my chat with Jacqueline Blontard and her colleagues when it became apparent that they were hoping to explore the whole castle and stay there for the summer, we agreed that our plans needed a rethink.”

“
Quite right.”

“
So, as we discussed the other night, I got in touch with Marseilles to tell them the problem about the archaeologists up at le Bezu. I tried to speak to papa, but the only one I could get hold of was that gruesome little Montlucon.”

“
I remember him.” Alain let go her shoulders and sat on the arm of the chair.

“
Well - I was astonished. The man went almost incandescent with rage. He’s never spoken to me like that before. He seemed to blame us for the problem. He said it was up to us to get the archaeologists out of the place, and quickly. He said otherwise they would have to do something about it.” She paused for another drink.

“
I told him what we had discussed - that it was best if we left the archaeologists to do their work and came back again in the autumn.”

She drank again and shook her head. “He said that was out of the question. Too much money had already been spent to wait that long. He seemed to be blaming me - blaming us for what had happened. He said everything had been arranged at their end and that we had let them down.”

“
He seems to be getting a bit big for his boots,” said Alain. “Did you tell him that I specifically didn’t want any violence? If someone got hurt it would only result in a lot of unsuitable publicity. That would make it much more dangerous to continue here and try to make progress with getting the stuff out.”

“
I told him all that but he didn’t want to listen. He said he’d give us a week to sort things out. He said that if we failed they would decide to take action at their end.”

“
That’s just plain stupid.” Hebert swore, then stopped himself. “What did your father say in all this?”

“
He wasn’t there. That’s what is worrying me. I asked where he was and all Montlucon would say was that he was out and he didn’t know when he would be back.” She looked up at him. “I’m worried about him, Alain.”

He put his arm round her shoulders. “What do you think may have happened?”

She shook her head. “I just don’t know.”

“
Your father’s the patron, isn’t he?”

“
Yes.” She smiled weakly. “Well, he was. Suddenly I don’t know any more.”

The next second she was crying, racked by violent sobs. He hugged her to his chest, surprised at the sudden breakdown in her self-control. He felt the tears soaking his shirt. He mumbled something into her scented hair. For some silly reason he felt enormously happy. Nobody had ever asked for comfort from him before and it was a new experience for him to try to understand the feelings of another person.

“
Cesar - why should there be a problem?” He stroked her hair. “Here - have another swig of brandy.”

She lifted her head and took another drink. She gulped it back and looked at him. “Oh, Alain! It seems to me as though everything is changing. I could feel the atmosphere over the phone. It was as though papa wasn’t there anymore.”

“
It’s just Montlucon mouthing off while your father’s away. You’ve said yourself that the bloke is a heap of crap. He would never dare to act against your father.”

“
He wouldn’t by himself.” She shook her head. “But now there’s all this money sloshing round, I wonder whether someone else has muscled in on the organisation now that papa is so much weaker than he used to be.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Oh, there will have been dozens of the vultures circling when the news got out about this templar treasure. They will all want a chunk of the proceeds.” She added bitterly. “You didn’t realise what you were starting when you got in touch with Montlucon.”

“
You mean there’s a fight going on between the various different factions in Marseilles?”

“
That’s right. And papa’s right in the middle of it.” She shook her head again, her expression miserable. “The trouble is that he’s not the man he was. He lost a lot of kudos when they tried to assassinate him.”

Hebert’s mouth fell open. “They tried what?”

“
Didn’t you realise? Someone from one of the other groups tried to take the quick way to the top. Papa’s personal bodyguard was killed. He was a lovely great guy called Albert. Papa was nearly done for as well but he was rescued by Montlucon and a bunch of my father’s supporters. But papa was grievously wounded and was close to death for a long time. It gave Montlucon the opportunity to move himself up towards the top of the Force. I’ve been worried about that little bastard ever since. I’ve begged papa to give it all up and get away from Marseilles and find a quiet backwater for his retirement. I’ve offered to live with him and care for him.” Her eyes were bleak. “But then this great new opportunity turned up.”

“
I suppose you blame me.”

She gave him a brief hug. “No, I don’t. It’s what’s likely to happen to anybody when a lot of money is involved. But I am afraid that Montlucon has seen the opportunity to bring someone in over the top of my father in return for a bigger slice of the rewards. And that would be very dangerous for papa.”

“
What do you want to do?” He was thinking rapidly. “I can go there and see them if you wish. I could drive to Marseilles in about four hours. I could be back tomorrow evening.”

“
Not likely! You would be putting yourself at serious risk.”

Alain considered it carefully for a while. “I don’t think I would be risking anything. I would take the same care as I did when I met Montlucon and your father for the first time. I would leave the appropriate information with my lawyers for public release if I didn’t contact them back by a certain time. And remember that nobody but me knows the exact location of the treasure. They can’t afford to terminate me or even to seriously upset me, because they would lose the chance to be led to the treasure.”

“
You would really do that?” She looked at him with a new appreciation. “Do you know, I think you may be a very brave as well as a clever man.”

“
I’ll tell you one more thing,” he said. “I don’t believe in making snap judgements. I think we should spend this evening relaxing with some food and a good red wine. Then I’ll decide what to do tomorrow.”

She smiled for the first time that evening.

“
I have a cassoulet simmering on the stove and I think I’ll open a bottle of Nuits St Georges. Will you join me?”

“
That would be nice.”

It was the start of an enjoyable night.

- 8 -

More than a month passed before Philip was able to arrange his fortnight’s holiday in the Languedoc. It had been necessary before leaving to pay a visit to his newly acquired house in Templecombe and arrange for it to be looked after until he had decided what to do with it. While he was there he had collected the copy his grandmother had made of the journal of Phillipe de Saint Claire and taken it back with him to his small bachelor flat in Paddington.

During several nights of fascinated bedtime reading he had followed the exploits of his ancient forbear - the escape down the sheer cliffs from the castle at Montsegur carrying the treasure of the Cathars on his back; the journey through the wild countryside to le Bezu: the hiding of the sealed bamboo tubes containing the treasure in the depths of the castle; the flight from the French forces over the Pyrenees into Spain; the voyage to London and the journey to Templecombe. By the time he had finished Philip had to admit that his enthusiasm for his imposed task had been raised considerably.

He crossed the channel on a mid-morning ferry. Driving south, he gave Paris a wide berth and stayed in a motel near Tours on the Saturday night. He was able to get away from there early next morning and, without hurrying, was in Carcassonne by tea-time.

His Michelin road atlas suggested le Bezu was somewhere south of there but it didn’t show sufficient detail. So his first task was to find a bookshop where he could pick up a larger-scale map. After a search of the town centre he found a place where he was able to purchase a Carte de Randonee (footpath map) of the Quillan area. He took it back to his hotel and studied it carefully. He found that the map indicated a Chateau
des
Templiers
on the Serre Calmette ridge near the village of le Bezu. He presumed that was the place he was looking for. He noted it was about fifty kilometres south of Carcassonne and at least two kilometres from the nearest road. It looked as though some cross-country walking would be required.