“What?”Isaid,disbelievinghim.DespitewhatParveenhadtoldme,Icouldn’t acceptthatanythingcouldbestolenfromtheBritishMuseumwithoutitbeinga newsstory.Also,Leopold/Thomaswasaknownliar.
“Yes,itsgone,andweneedtogetgonetoo,”hesaid.“Comewithme.”
“OK,”Isaid.“I’dliketogetadecentcoffee.Ialsoneedtofindaclothingstore.
Theylostmyluggage,andI’vebeenwearingthisoutfitforthreedays.”
Weheadedtowardstheentrance,butfrombehindIheardmynamebeingcalled byadeepmalevoice.
“Ms.Auger!”
“Walkfaster,”saidLeopold.“Wecan’tletthemcatchus.”
“YoumeanAccountsReceivable?”Isaid.“I’mjustgoingtoleave.Theycan’t makemestay.”Still,Ididwalkfaster.Thevoicecalledmeagain.
“Ms.Auger,pleasecomebackhereforamoment!”
NowIwasalmostrunning,panicking,wantingtoavoidconfrontation.
Leopoldkeptpace.Wesprinteddownthestepsandacrossthecourtyard,with nowtwopursuers,whomIsawperipherallytobelargemenindarksuits,
followingbehindatasteadypacebutnotrunningafterus.
AswenearedthecurbofGreatRussellStreet,Leopoldhailedablackcarwith tintedwindowsthatlookedlikeitsarrivalwasperfectlytimed.Heopenedthe backdoorandbasicallyshovedmein.Beforethedoorclosed,Iheardthatsame familiarvoiceshoutingatmefrombehindus:
“Ms.Auger,weneedtotalk.There’ssomethingyouneedtoknow!”
Leopoldshutthedoor,andthedoorslockedautomatically.That’swhenI realizedthatthiswasnotataxicab,astherewerenometersandnoofficial identification.Itwasaprivatecar.Thedriver,ablondguyinhisthirtieswitha darksuitandblackbowlerhat,tookordersfromLeopold.
“TakeustotheClub,Miles”hesaidtothedriver.Milesnoddedandspedoff, justasoneofthemenfollowingus,whoIsawtobeblackandhusky,reached forthedoorhandle,andmissed.Nowmysurvivalinstinctkickedin.
“Leopold,Iagreedtogodownthestreetforcoffeewithyou,nottogetina privatecar.Whereareyoutakingme?”
“TotheOrientalClub,ofcourse,”hesaid.“You’regoingtomakethe presentationIhiredyoutodo.”Achillwentthroughme.
WhoisthismanthatI’vefoolishlygottenintoacarwith,Ithought, and whatis hegoingtodotome?
“Actually,I’dliketogetoutnow,”Isaid.Ithenaddressedthedriver.“Canyou pullthecaroverplease?”
Heignoredme.Myfearturnedintoafullfreak‐out.
“Idemandthatyouletmeoutofthiscarrightnow!”Iscreamed.Ipickedupmy phone,thoughIdidn’tknowhowtocalltheequivalentof911inthiscountry.I didn’thavetimetothinkaboutwhotocallbecauseLeopoldsnatchedthephone outofmyhandwithaforcefulnessthatsurprisedmeforamanhisage.
“Pamela,donotpanic,orIwillgiveyouareasontopanic,”hesaid.
Whatascarythingtosay! Ithought.
Iunlockedmydoorandreachedforthehandle,readytotakemychancesand jumpoutstraightontothepavementbelow,hopingIcouldaimforthesidewalk atleastinsteadofbeingcrushedimmediatelybythecarbehindus.ButLeopold grabbedmyhandandpressedsomethingcoldandhardagainstmychest.
Ilookeddown.Itwasasilverhandgun.Isatback,terrified.
“Whatdoyouwantfromme?”Isobbed.
“Justyourprofessionalanalysis,”heanswered.“Nowcooperate.”
Chapter9:OrientalClub
BetweenSouthMoltonStreet&StratfordPlace:Calvary’sfoot:Wherethe VidimswerepreparingforsacrificetheirCherubim…theirinmostpalaces Resoundedwithpreparationofanimalswild&tame.
—WilliamBlake, Milton
Attimeslikethis,youfindyourselfwishingyou’dattachedaridertoyour contract.
Theclientmustprovidehisactuallegalname.Noinvoluntarytransportof my person(kidnapping).Nogunsorthreatsofmurder.Pickmeupattheairport, for Christ’ssake.Returnphonecallsandemailsrelatedtobusinessinatimely manner.Andnever,everbookmeatahotelroomthatcannotfitbothmybody andmysuitcasesimultaneously.Also,ofcourse,acancellationclauseincase the aboverequirementsareviolated.
Butnorecourseseemedavailabletomeatthattime.SoItriedtocalmmyself down,wipingthetearsfrommypuffy,reddenedfacethathadnothadthebenefit ofmake‐upindays.IconcentratedonLeopold’shands,whichIlookedatclose upforthefirsttime.Inoticedthattheywerebothscarredalloverandhorribly contorted.Itwasalmostasifeachphalangehadbeenseparatedfromtheothers atsomepoint,andthenithadallbeengraftedbacktogetheragain,badly.
Ilookedoutthewindowtomyleftandsawapublicpark.Asignsaid
“HanoverSquare.”IrecalledthatthiswasnearwheretheOrientalClubactually didmeet,atsomeplacecalledStratfordHouse.ButLeopoldwasholdingmy
phone,soIcouldn’tuseittoconfirmthis.Iwonderedwhattheyweregoingto dowithme,howmuchitwouldhurt,andifanyonewouldfindmybody.Finally, Iturnedagaintomycaptorandinquiredastowhethertheprojectorandscreen hadbeensetupformyPowerPointpresentation.
“You’llhaveeverythingyouneed,”Iwastoldgruffly.
Thecarstoppedabruptlyandpulledupnexttothepark.
“Wewalkfromhere,”Leopoldannounced.Thedoorsunlockedandheleaned overtopullthehandleonmydoorwithhisrighthandwhilehegrabbedmyright wristwithhislefthand,whichwassognarlythatmyskintriedtocrawlaway frommybodyassoonashetouchedit.Hethenwrappedhisentirearmaround minesothathehadfirmcontrolofmywholeupperbody.Hepushedmeout alongwithhimself,andweemergedstucktogether.Hethenpulledmeoverto thecorner,wherewecrossedthestreetafterMilesdroveoff.
IguesswejustlookedlikeatypicalMay‐Decembercouple.Peoplewalkingpast usdidn’tseemtonoticethathewaspressingagunagainstmyside,orthatIwas underextremeduress.Icouldn’tbelievethatsomethinglikethiscouldhappenin alargecityinbroaddaylight.Butitwashappening.
Whenwegottotheothersideofthestreet.Leopoldstoppedmeforamoment andlookedaround.Therewasnobodyelseinourimmediatevicinity.Infrontof uswasamulti‐purposeofficebuilding.IsawasignforaLloyd’sTSBbankin thelobby,andnexttothat,Barclays,again.InmyfearandparanoiaItried desperatelytounderstandwhatwasgoingon.IturnedtolookatLeopold.
“Youdon’tworkforBarclaysdoyou?”Heshookhisheadsidewaysand laughed.Irealizedthatdidn’tmakeanysense,especiallysincehehadpaidme thousandsofdollarsandspentthousandsmoretobringmehere.
That’sasillywaytocollectadebt,Ithought.JustthenIfeltsomeonecomefrom behindandgrabmyleftarm.ItwasMiles.Hemusthavealreadyparkedthecar.
“Thiswayplease,”hesaidpolitelyasheandLeopoldbothdraggedmeoff.
TheymarchedmepastanotherbuildingandacrossHanoverStreet,thendowna fewdoorstotheleft.Wepausedinfrontoftheglassdoorofanartgallerywith noname,simplylabeledwiththeaddress,“10Hanover.”Inthemiddleofthe
day,itwasclosedandempty.
Therewasatouchpadforanalarm.MileskeyedinthecodewhileLeopoldheld mefirm,neverlooseninghisgriponmyarmorthepressureofthegunonmy ribcage.ThedooropenedandIwasusheredinside.
Thelightswereoff,butIcouldseethemainroomfromthedaylightcoming throughtheglassdoor.Ionlysawtwoartpiecesondisplayintheotherwise emptyroom.OnewasagiantBand‐Aid,aboutafootlong,stucktoacanvason thebackwall,rightnexttoastaircaseleadingdown.Theotherwasalarge squarecanvasonthewalltomyleft,maybe8feetby8feet,paintedblackwith threeyellowdiscsarrangedinadownward‐pointingtriangleformation.Leopold noticedmenoticingit.
“Whata
reyouthinking?”heaskedcuriously.
“OhIwasjustthinkingthatthisremindsmeofanimageIsawinamovieonce,”
Itoldhim.
Thiswholeexperienceislikebeinginamovie,Ithoughttomyself.
“Whichone?”heprodded.
“Ithinkitwas InvocationofMyDemonBrother,byKennethAnger,”I answered.
“Ahyes,theAleisterCrowleyworshipperwiththehorribleamateurmoviesthat everybodycalls‘art,’”hesaid.
Theyshovedmetotheleftsideoftheroom,aroundabend,sothatwewerenow outofsightfromthefrontdoor.LeopoldletmegoandgavetheguntoMiles, whonowpresseditintomybackunderneathmyleftshoulderblade.
Leopoldlitacigarettewithazippo.TheywereChesterfields.Ididn’tevenknow theymadeChesterfieldsanymore!That,ofcourse,mademethinkfondlyofmy favoriteMI5agent,wishingheandhispartnerweretheretosaveme.
“Actually,”Leopoldexplained,“theyellowdotsintheKennethAngermovie formadownward‐pointingtriangle.This,”hesaid,jabbinghisthumbatthe paintingbehindhim,“isbasedonthecoatofarmsforWilliamPitt.There’sa
statueofhimintheparkacrossthestreet.”
Hestartedtowalktowardsthestairsandthenstoppedagain.Heturnedaround andlookedatme,wagginghisgnarlyindexfingeratme.
“Butsee,youwerepickinguponanAleisterCrowleyvibe.That’swhyIhired you.There’smorethanjustlogicandknowledgeatworkinyourbrain, thoughthereisthat.You’reusingasixthsensetodoyourresearchtoo.I’ve knownitforsometime.That’swhyyou’retheoneweneed.”
Heturnedaroundandheadeddownthestairs.MilesandIfollowed.
“Why,”Iasked.“What’sthisgottodowithAleisterCrowley?”
Whenwereachedthebottomofthestairswewereinadarkunfinished basement.Icouldn’tevenseethewallstotellhowlargeitwas.Leopoldturned towardsmeandignitedhislightertoilluminatehisface.
“Crowley’sAstronArgonclubhadanofficeinthatbuildingdownthestreet,at 10HanoverSquare,”hesaid,pointingbackupthestairs.“Oratleast,inthe buildingthatusedtobethere.”
“Butaren’twein10Hanovernow?”Isaid,confused.Irememberedtheaddress onthefrontdoor.
“We’rein10Hanover Street.TheSquareisdownthere,hesaid,continuingto point.Mileswinced.
“It’sOKMiles,”Leopoldassuredhim.“Sheneedstoknowthesethings.
Now,Crowleyandhisfriendshadaccesstotheundergroundtunnelnetwork beneaththesestreets,whichleadstowhatwasoncethesub‐basementofwhere theOrientalClub usedtomeet,at18HanoverSquare.”
“SonotStratfordHouse?”Iinquired.
“That’sright,”heanswered.“TheymovedtoStratfordHouseinthe60s.It’sjust aquarter‐mileawayfromhere.Butbeforethat,OrientalClubwasjustafewfeet awayfromAstronArgon’soffice,rightacrossHanoverSquare.NowCrowley
spentsometimethere,notasadues‐payingmember,butasaguest.Andthe personwhoinvitedhimin,whosenameIshallwithhold,alsosharedwithhima secretwhich shouldnothavebeendisclosed,aboutthetunnelnetwork.Crowley andhisfriendsthenbeganmakingnefarioususeofthetunnels.Weknowthis becausewhenwewereexploringdownhere,wefoundoneofhissecret shrines.”
“Whattunnels?”Iasked.“Andwho’s‘we’?”
“TheWorshipfulSocietyofButchers,”Leopoldreplied.Hewalkedovertoa grimytile‐coveredwall,whichIcouldnowseeonlybecauseoftheflamefrom his
lighter,andunlatchedahookthathadbeenkeepingathinwoodendoorclosed.It swungopen,revealingatoilet,asink,andanoverflowingtrashcan.Milesletgo ofmeandgavethegunbacktoLeopold,whohelditstickingouttowardsme.I nowhadnobodyholdingme,butIdarenottrytorun.
Milespulledthetrashcanoutofthebathroomandintothemainroom,togetit outoftheway.Thenhebrushedasidetheremainingpileofusedpapertowels, revealingagreenwoodenhatchdoor,whichheraised.Underneathwasadeep shaft,withatleasttworungsofametalladdervisiblefromthetop.
Thismustbetheentrancetothesecretnetworkoftunnelstheyweretalking about,Ithought.
Mileswentdownfirst.Thenafewsecondslater,LeopoldinsistedIfollow.Iput thestrapofthelaptopcasearoundmyneckandletithangfrommybackasI climbeddown.Leopoldextinguishedhisflame,andwaitedformetogettothe bottom,stillinpitch‐darkness.ThereMilesgrabbedmewithbothhands,and whistledtoannouncethis.ThenLeopolddescendeddowntheladderhimself.
Whenhegottothebottom,heflickedhislighterbackontemporarilyand pointedhisgunatmeagain.ThenMilesletgoofme,andreachedintohiscoat pockettopulloutalongsilvercylinder.ItwasanLEDflashlight,whichhe turnedon,allowingLeopoldtoputouthislighterandreturnittohispocket.
“I’msorrythatIhavetopointthisgunatyou,”saidLeopold.“ButIknowthatI can’ttrustyoutocooperateyet.”Hepulledsomethingoutofhisinnercoat pocketandsnappedittounfurlit.Itwasacloth,likeascarf.
“Turnaround,”hesaid.Icomplied.Hetiedtheclothovermyeyes.Iwas completelyblind.
“Ohcomeon,”Isaid,“Icanbarelyseeasitis.”
“TherearesomedetailsIjustcan’ttrustyouwith,”hesaid.“Miles,takeherbag please.”
Milesrelievedmeofmyburden,whichactuallywas quitearelief,physically.
ButnowIhadtoworryabouthowIwasgoingtogetitback.Leopoldthen grabbedmefrombehindbytheleftshoulder.
“Putyourarmsouttoyourside,please,”heinstructed.Icomplied,bewildered.
“Forwardthreepaces,please,andthroughthearchway,”Leopoldcontinued.
Iwalkedahead.Aftertwosteps,Ifeltawalloneithersideofme.Withathird stepIwalkedthroughapassagewaybetweenthem.Isteppedintoanopenroom ofsomesort.Icouldtellthisbecausetherewasachangeinairpressure,aswell asintheacousticsofourfootsteps,andagentlebreezefromabove.
“Wherearewegoingnow?”Isaid.
“Youtellus,mydearVirgil,”hecommanded.
“Whatdoyoumean?”Iasked.
“Directlyaheadofyouaretheentrancestothreedifferentcorridorsthatyoucan godown,”Leopoldexplained.“Threedifferentavenuesallleadingtothelight.
Threedifferent Waysthrough Strengthand Beauty.
“Butremember,”helectured,“thesepathsallintersectwitheachotheratseveral pointsonthejourney.Sointhelongrun,therewillbenumerousopportunitiesto changetheroadyouareon.Therefore,fearnottheoutcome.
Simplymakeachoice,andmoveahead.Buttomakesurethatyouareperfectly lost,andthereforeyourchoiceallthemorearbitrary,weshallgiveyouafew spinsaround,justlikeagameofpinthetailonthedonkey.”
Leopoldtookmebymylefthand,andMilestookmebymyright.Thenthey
bothbegantospinmeinacounter‐clockwisedirection.
SuddenlyIunderstood,atleastinpart,theirpurposeforbringingmehere.
LeopoldhadsurmisedmyclairvoyantpowerswhenherealizedthatIwasusing intuitionanddivinationtoolsinmyoccultresearch.HehadfiguredoutwhyI hadbeenabletopenetrateesotericmysteriessodeeply.
Perhapshe’salsooverestimatedmypowers,Ithought, andassumesIcan control them.Maybehedoesn’trealizethattheyworksporadicallyatbest,and aren’t alwaysreliable.Eitherway,it’scertainlywasstartingtolooklikehe broughtme heretoserveasasoothsayer.
“Areyouguystryingtousemeasahumandowsingrod?”Iasked,asIwas beingturnedbythemlikeacorkscrew.
“Inaway,yes,”Leopoldreplied.
Theyspunmearoundseventimes,attheendofwhichIwas,astheyintended, dizzyandcompletelydisoriented.Istumbledforwardafewfeet.Myhan
ds caughttheleftsideofanotherarchway.
“Excellentchoice,”saidLeopold.“Steadyon.”
Iwalkedonthroughthearchway,andintoanarrowtunnel,withLeopold’shand onmyshoulderonceagain.IreckonedthatMileswassomewherebehindus.
“Don’tyouknowwherethesetunnelslead?Orareyouexpecting metotellyou?
Because IsureasHelldon’tknow.”
“Yes,Iknowwheretheylead,dear.ButI’mjustnotsurewhatstationweneedto beatnext.SoIamcountingonyoutointuitthatforus.Don’tworry,Ihave completefaithinyou.”
Andsowewalkedon,forwhatfeltlikeaquarterofamile,untilwehitawall.I sensedthatwehadreachedanothercrossroads.Iscuttledtotheleftandfound thattherewasindeedapassagewaythere,soIturnedleft.ButthenIhesitated afterafewsteps.Itsmelledwetandmoldy,likedirtytowels.
“Maybeweshouldgotheotherway,”Isaid.“Thismightbeleadingintoa
sewer.”
“It’snot,”saidLeopold.“Goon.”
“Butthere’sapassagewaygoingtheoppositedirectiontoo,isn’tthere?”Iasked.
Igotthesensethattherewas,andthatImighthavemadethewrongchoice.
“Don’tsecond‐guessyourself,”saidLeopold.“Keepgoing.”
Wetrekkedonforaboutanotherquarterofamile.AtonepointIwassurethatI heardasubwaytrainpassingoverahead,andMilesconfirmedit.Thensometime afterthatIsaw,inmymind’seye,anoldwoodendoor,withapadlockonit.I stoppeddeadinmytracks.
“There’snopointingoingon,”Isaid.“There’salockeddoor.Wewouldneed thekey.”
“She’sgood!”saidMiles.Ithenheardakeyringjangling,andakeybeing insertedintothelock.
“Comeonthrough,”hesaid,guidingmethroughthedoorwithhishandonmy shoulders.“There’sonlyonedirectiontogoinfromhere.”
Isteppedforward.Leopoldsteppedthroughbehindme.Thenhetoldmetostop.
“Goaheadandtakethehoodwinkoff,Miles,”heordered.
Theblindfoldwasremoved.NowIcouldseethebrickwallsandfloorsofthe corridorwewerein,illuminatedbytheLEDflashlight.Itseemedcenturiesold.
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