The Sixth Key(67)

He found Eva sitting in a small café looking calm and composed, completely oblivious to his vexations and his obvious sufferings. He had blisters on his feet, and the worry had given him palpitations.

She explained that she had found a ride in an auto-car headed for the town and had taken the liberty of ordering herself lunch. She had a hunch he would find her.

What a nerve!

Not at all mollified, he told her of his conversation with Grassaud.

‘So, Saunière sold his soul?’ she said.

‘According to Rivière . . . Now, I have to make a phone call and perhaps you can ask around if there’s anyone headed in the direction of Rennes-le-Château.’

‘Rennes-le-Château?’

‘Saunière’s village.’

He paid for her meal, asked to use the telephone and was directed to the post office where he called La Dame in Paris. The phone rang several times and Rahn was about to hang up when his friend answered, with a voice full of sleep.

‘Are you still in bed? For God’s sake!’

‘Is that you, Rahn?’

Rahn heard a female voice and he imagined his friend lying next to a blonde student or a brunette secretary trying to wake up after a long night of soft battles in the bed. For some reason this vexed him.

‘Time to get up.’

‘What time is it?’

Rahn sighed. ‘The sun’s out.’

‘Perhaps in the south, but in the north the sun’s not out until I pull the blinds.’

‘I have a job for you.’

He yawned. ‘And it couldn’t wait until my first brandy? What is it?’

‘No time to explain now, except to say it’s very important. I want you to find out anything you can about a certain Jean-Louis Verger and the Society for the Reparation of Souls.’

‘Wait a minute, let me write this down.’ Rahn heard him scrounging about for paper and a fountain pen. ‘What’s all this about anyway? Has it got something to do with that book, what was it called?’

The female voice purred his name and La Dame seemed to disappear for a moment.

‘Bastard!’ Rahn said, but he couldn’t help smiling.

‘Sorry, Rahn, here I am . . . what was that name again?’

‘Jean-Louis Verger and the Society for the Reparation of Souls. And, La Dame, this is important, for God’s sake! Will you get me the information as soon as possible?’

‘Dear Rahn, are you all right? You sound terribly odd!’

Rahn took a deep breath of calm. ‘I’ve got more than one lump on my head and I’ve been trying to maintain an outward show of imperturbability amid terrible and chaotic events the likes of which I’d rather not describe, lest I involve you more than I need to – so don’t ask questions. Also, find out what you can about a symbol, an anchor entwined with a snake, would you? It may have something to do with a Masonic order of some kind, or that terrorist group, La Cagoule.’

‘Sounds like you’re in some trouble? What does Deodat think of all this?’

‘I can assure you that right now he’s not very happy about it.’

‘So, you’ve done something to put him off side, and now you run to me! Meanwhile, you have all the adventures while I sit in the Bibliothèque Nationale looking up information. Somehow it doesn’t seem fair!’

‘What happened to your love for the boring life? Your creature comforts?’

‘Well, these creatures of comfort do have their advantages.’

There was a squeal.

Rahn rubbed his unshaven jaw. ‘I assure you, you’ve made the right decision. This adventure is not fun; it is rather a terrible exercise which, should you learn of it someday, you will be very happy to have missed. Why don’t you take your lady friend with you to the library to keep you company?’

‘I’m afraid she’s not the . . . literary type, if you catch my meaning.’

‘Say no more, La Dame, please! I’ll call you in the next few hours.’

There was the unmistakeable sound of stretching and another yawn. Finally La Dame said, quoting Don Quixote, ‘I shall not open my lips to make fun of your worship’s doings, but only to honour you as my master and natural lord!’

Rahn sighed. La Dame was his only true friend besides Deodat. This thought filled him with apprehension for the whereabouts of his friend. He put the phone down, and resolving not to lose his spirits, went to find Eva.





25


Rennes-le-Château

‘The devil’s agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not?’

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles


They caught a ride in an old truck full of flour headed for the markets at Espéraza. Inside, Rahn sat nursing his head next to the driver, while Eva sat in silence at the window watching the landscape pass. He knew things were moving fast for her and she was no doubt perplexed. No wonder! There seemed to be no end to the complications and number of deaths: first the sacristan, then Abbé Cros, then the man in the barn. He was worried for Deodat’s safety. There were people obviously willing to kill, but kill for what? Was it Le Serpent Rouge or was it the key to complete it, which seemed to somehow be connected to the treasure of the Cathars? Perhaps as Plantard had said, it didn’t matter anymore if the grimoire existed or not, the mere idea that it existed had become a commodity and they were now caught in the middle. But Deodat’s note was clear: he wanted Rahn to find it, whatever it was, even though he knew they were coming for him . . . But who they were and what they were going to do with him, he couldn’t know.