The Sixth Key(117)

‘Now . . . all you need do to rid yourself of this problem is to hand me the parchment.’

‘What parchment?’

‘The one in your shoe, the one Madame Dénarnaud gave you.’

La Dame said, ‘Why should he trust you?’

The man’s face was full of surprise, as if he had forgotten La Dame and would now put this terrible rudeness to rights. ‘Professor! I’m so glad you have brought up the matter of trust because I—’

A shot rang out. It sounded more like a cannon in the stillness. Dragomir fell and began to cough, gasping to find any small puff of air as if he were choking. Blood was oozing from his mouth and from a hole in his neck. The sympathetic man with the gun had turned around and was crouching, looking in the direction from which the shot had been fired. Meanwhile Rahn took hold of a sizeable rock and was about to hit him over the head when another shot rang out, hitting the crouching Serbian in the belly. The man fell and pointed to La Dame but could say nothing. Rahn had no idea who had shot them and he didn’t care.

There was a mad scramble to get into the Peugeot.

Rahn took the wheel and such was his agitation that he put his foot down on the accelerator with a force that sent the car skidding over the road.

Eva said calmly, ‘I hear a siren!’

Rahn didn’t know what to do, so he just kept driving. ‘Does anyone know how to get to Saint-Just-et-le-Bézu?’ he cried, at the end of his tether.

‘Just continue on this road north and turn right at the turn-off to Granes!’ Eva pointed.

He looked in the rear-view mirror: La Dame was touching at his lip to see if it was still bleeding. He was paler than his beard – not even while potholing had he looked more worse-for-wear.

‘What happened back there, Rahn?’ La Dame said, with a touch of melodrama.

‘I don’t know! Someone was either helping us or trying to kill us, take your pick.’

‘Do you think the Serbian was right about Deodat?’ Eva said.

‘I can’t think about that right now. We have the clue, let’s use it and see where it leads us.’

‘Didn’t you hear what that man said?’ La Dame pointed out, testily. ‘They’re probably watching us right now!’

‘So what do you want to do, La Dame, sit here and wait till they kill us? So far no one else has any idea about what’s on the parchment. That’s our only insurance.’

‘I don’t agree,’ La Dame protested. ‘Once we find what we’re, or rather, they’re after, what’s to stop them from killing us anyway?’

‘Nothing,’ Rahn said laconically.

‘My God, I need a brandy!’ La Dame mourned, and all conversation ended for a time.

They arrived at the dismal little village of Saint-Just-etle-Bézu in the dark. It was deathly cold and the medieval township at the foot of the mountain was turning in on itself. The fog obscured the way to the cheerless church; its entrance was in the street. A painted cross over the arched doorway told them they were in the right place. Luckily, they found the oak door ajar and stepped inside, where it was no warmer. Rahn felt the old familiar panic rise to his throat. His mouth was a dry, barren wasteland, his knees were broken hinges and his breathing was an engine running out of steam. He sneezed then, occasioning a cry from the sacristan who was sweeping the church. The old man’s emaciated form, standing beneath the blue-vaulted ceiling, was lit by the dancing luminance of the altar candles.

‘Who are you?’ he cried. ‘The church is closed!’

‘We’re terribly sorry, old friend,’ La Dame stepped forward with a casual manner. ‘We didn’t mean to frighten you. We were just passing and stopped for a moment to take a look in your beautiful church. We’re looking for . . . a veil – the veil of a goddess to be exact. Do you happen to know where we might find it? There was something about it in a magazine and we just had to see it.’

‘A veil? A goddess, you say?’ The squinting man considered this and said, with a modicum of suspicion in his voice, ‘At this ungodly hour? City people! Why not come back tomorrow? It will be All Soul’s Day, and the priest is coming again.’ He made a sweep of the hand. ‘I’m busy getting the church ready, as you can see.’

‘Please, just a few moments. What harm can it do?’ Eva cajoled, smiling.

The man sighed. ‘Very well, the only veil we have is over there, behind glass. But it’s only a copy.’ He went to the altar, took a candle and gave it to Eva. ‘I must see to some preparations in the sacristy, so you may look until I’m done.’