Laika knelt next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "We know you," she said. It was all she needed to say.
Joseph reached out for the cup, and Tony handed it to him. He looked at it carefully, studied the water in it, then poured it out into one of the few still unbroken teacups on the coffee table. Then he ran his hand over the inside. "I didn't notice before," he said, "but it's textured. Like there's a coat of varnish, or whatever they used back then, over something textured that's lining the cup. Like . . . like cloth." He poured the water from the teacup back into the wooden cup, then looked up at Molly, "The same kind of cloth that was in the casket? The same kind as the Fairy Flag?"
Tony held up a hand to quiet Joseph, even though he knew it was like trying to get a genie back in the bottle, or the prisoner back into a lead-lined cell. "It doesn't matter," said Laika, as if reading his thoughts. Then she looked at Molly and Skye. "You've both seen so much now that you'll have to know the truth." She touched her chest, drawing her blouse back together. "I can't bullshit my way out of all this."
Chapter 41
But maybe she could bullshit her way out of some of it, Laika thought. There was no point in telling Skye everything, although he had to know about the Prisoner now. "We've been getting hints of something since our earliest assignments together," she said. "Nothing definite enough to report—just things that we've stored in the backs of our heads."
Then she told Skye about the indications that a powerful prisoner had been held for a long time under deep security, and of their suspicions that he might have been freed and was working with the owner of Castle Dirk, Colin Mackay. Then she looked at Joseph to fill in the rest. She was anxious to hear what had happened to him, and she knew that they were now stuck with Skye, for better or worse.
"This prisoner," Joseph said, "is at the castle. That's Castle Dirk," he added for Skye's benefit. "We've been investigating it on the possibility that the recent manifestations might be coming from there. Colin Mackay is the owner, the son of a Sir Andrew Mackay. We were able to search the castle before Colin Mackay took possession, and what we found in the cellars indicates a connection to the Knights Templar. That's where we found the cup as well."
Laika was glad to hear Joseph's spin. If Skye knew they had found the cup back in New York, he'd know they were withholding more than just suspicions from him.
"Our research into the family and the castle," Joseph went on, "indicates that both Mackays are incredibly long-lived. The cup's the reason, whether it's the Holy Grail or just because it's treated with some radioactive substance with . . ." He looked at Laika, then down at his own torn shirt. ". . . I hate to say it, but miraculous curative powers. And a greatly increased life span."
Skye stood up and walked to the cup, which he picked up and examined. Then he smiled and drank from it, emptying it entirely. "I've learned never to look a gift horse in the mouth. If it's true, wonderful. If not, well, it's only water." He looked at Molly and Tony. "May I offer you a drink?"
Tony shook his head abruptly, and Molly ignored the question. Instead, she got to her feet. "Look, I don't pretend to know what's going on here, but I want to know something. Joseph, you were there the night of the last prison break, and you were captured. I just saw the photo—that's why I came over here this morning, to find out just what was going on, but I couldn't ask point-blank, with Mr. Skye here. Now it seems as if everything's out in the open, so I can ask. And I do so with the full force of the British government behind me. How did you escape from that prison, Joseph? And what do you know about the recent terrorist acts against England?"
Joseph glanced at Laika, and she inclined her head slightly, telling him to go ahead and tell them all the truth. After all, she wanted to know as much as anyone.
"I escaped from that prison by walking through walls, hand in hand with this prisoner I've been telling you about." Laika noticed Skye's body tense. "He calls himself Mulcifer, and he freed the terrorists, too. He joined with Colin Mackay as part of his nationalist group, but I don't think Mackay is in control anymore. Mulcifer is controlling Mackay's men the same way he . . . controlled me."
Molly shook her head and raised her hands in the air as if in disbelief. "What are you talking about, hypnosis?"
"No," Joseph replied. "Hypnosis is bullshit. This is the real deal. I don't know how he does it, whether he implants his brain waves directly into your brain or what, but when he says jump, you ask how high. It doesn't work on everybody. Bloodlines have a lot to do with it. Mackay, for example, is untouchable."
"Okay, okay," Molly said. "So what you're saying is that the people at the castle are the terrorists, the ones who are responsible for the bombings?"
"That's rather obvious, isn't it?" said Skye. "I have another question, Agent Stein. Why did this . . . Mulcifer, is it? . . . Why did he help you escape from prison?"
"He wanted me to find the location of some nerve gas the British government had stored away."
"And did you?" Molly asked angrily, as if she knew the answer.
"I didn't have any choice. But there's no way he's going to be able to get to it."
"What do you mean," Molly said, "you didn't have any goddamned choice? Are you telling me that you gave away my country's secrets to terrorists? Were you tortured, Joseph?"
"No, Molly. I was told."
"All right, I've had enough of this." Molly picked up her coat and walked to the door. "Your immunity has just stopped dead. I'm calling in an anti-terrorist strike on that castle. We're going to capture those men and this Mulcifer you're talking about, and put him in a good English prison and see how fast he walks out of it."
"That will not be a good idea," Skye said. "Please. Just sit for a moment, and let me explain something to you, Inspector Fraser. To all of you." Skye gestured graciously to the chair Molly had left, hoping that she would sit down. Otherwise, he might have to shoot the stupid bitch. To his relief, Molly slowly returned to the chair and sat, her gaze warily on Skye. "Thank you. Now, I want all of you to know that I know a great deal more about this Prisoner, this Mulcifer, than you suspect."
Skye's mind was whirling over what to tell and what to leave out. The primary consideration now driving him was that he must come into contact with Mulcifer. Now that he had finally found him, the last thing Skye wanted was to have the British government get their hands on him.
He had aligned himself with this man Mackay's nationalists, a no doubt small and underfinanced group, despite the magnificent coup they had pulled off with the destruction of London's greatest landmarks. Still, if what Stein said was true, that had been mostly Mulcifer's doing. If Mulcifer had fallen in with Mackay so quickly, how much more quickly, then, would he be likely to join a man like Mr. Stanley, who already had immense power and wealth? Together they could achieve absolute power, power in which Skye would share.
And now something was different. Now Skye would not only share in the power, but inherit it. He had seen the power of the cup, and if it had made the Mackays live far beyond their normal spans, why should it not be true of him as well? He would be Stanley's man for another twenty, thirty, forty years. By then he and Stanley would surely come up with an idea of how to get rid of Mulcifer, or at least of how to contain him again.
Then, when Stanley finally died, everything he had would be Skye's, not just for a few years, but for centuries, as long as he was able to keep violent death away. With the power he would have, it would be tricky, but power could buy a lot of loyalty.
But none of these dreams would come true unless he stopped this woman now.
"There is far more to this affair than terrorism," he said calmly. "I know that with the recent attacks upon London, it seems to you that ending such threats as quickly as possible should be your first priority, but there is far more to consider. Not to overdramatize, but the fate of the world could be at stake here. There are tremendous forces at work, and I truly believe that I am the only person who fully understands the situation, and that I can put
a stop to it without further bloodshed, if I can only meet with Mulcifer and talk to him in private."
"For God's sake," Molly Fraser said in disgust, "how do you expect me to believe that? You've only just learned as much as I have!"
"On the contrary, I've had knowledge of this person long before we ever put this current operation together." He looked at Laika and the others. "I couldn't tell you anything about it, though. National security reasons, of course."
"Of course," said Agent Harris, with a snide look on her face that Skye would have quickly wiped from it had it not been for Fraser's presence.
"So if you will remain silent on these matters for the next forty-eight hours, that should give me enough time to meet with Mulcifer and defuse and resolve the entire situation."
"No bloody way," said Molly Fraser, standing up again. "I'm reporting to MI5 now. Even if I fully believed you, which I don't, I cannot delay my response at the request of foreign intelligence agents, as you damned well know."
"Then," Skye said, getting slowly to his feet, "I'm afraid we have no other course but to make you the next prisoner in our little drama." He turned to his operatives. "Take her into custody, and search her for weapons."
"You wouldn't dare," Fraser said.
"I would dare much more," Skye said, "for my country, and for the safety of the world."
Laika's first reaction was to tell Skye to take Molly into custody his own damn self, if that was what he wanted. But then she realized that if Molly Fraser's information caused an anti-terrorist strike, what they were going to end up with was a lot of dead soldiers and nothing else to show for it. It would be Utah all over again. All Mulcifer had to do was come into contact with the men and affect a minority of them, and they'd be shooting one another just the way LaPierre's troops blasted themselves to pieces.
Laika didn't know what to do next, but the first thing was to make sure that Molly didn't start anything that couldn't be finished. Laika took out her pistol and pointed it at her. "Sorry, Inspector, but I'm afraid we're going to have to make you as comfortable as possible in the cellar."
Joseph and Tony must have read her mind, because they came straight to Laika's aid. "I'm sorry, Molly," Joseph said, "but it's for the best. Just trust me for a while."
Molly held her arms in the air while Laika patted her down. "Trust you. That's a good one, Joseph. Especially in light of your trying to kill us all, and protecting a bunch of terrorist butchers. Oh yes, this is the most stable bunch I've been around in a real long time."
"You saw what happened here today," Laika said. "You think that was all a trick? That Joseph and I weren't really shot and near death? Then maybe you'd like to explain just how we pulled off that little Siegfried-and-Roy bullshit, huh?"
"No, I . . . I don't know."
"And it really doesn't matter," said Skye. "Get her in the basement. If there are no windows and nothing she can use to escape, there's no point in tying her up, as long as the door's secure."
The operatives removed their supplies from the basement, leaving it empty. While Tony pulled Molly's car into the small storage barn behind the cottage, Joseph and Laika tried to make the cellar as comfortable as possible for Molly. Then they locked her in, and, at Skye's direction, met in one of the bedrooms so that Molly would not hear them.
"I think," Skye began, in a voice even icier than usual, "that there's an awful lot that you haven't been telling me, Agent Harris. We'll deal with that later." He turned to Joseph. "Agent Stein, are you certain that this Mulcifer is in the castle?"
"Yes sir. At least, I believe he was when I left last night."
"I want to contact him. Do they have a telephone?"
"Yeah," Tony said. "Unlisted, but we got the number a few days ago."
Laika cleared her throat. "Sir, believe me, you don't want to meet with him face to face. His powers are . . . well, there's just no knowing what he might do."
"You seem to know a lot about Mulcifer, Agent Harris. Have your paths crossed before?"
"I know that if he can make Agent Stein try and kill us, he can do just about anything to anybody."
"It's very doubtful that Agent Stein and I," said Skye, "come from the same genetic stock. My family has been Nordic. There are no traces of any Mediterranean or Jewish influence that I know of."
Joseph's lips tightened. "When Mulcifer raped women, he didn't ask about their background. Agent Harris could be a relation, for all we know."
"A distant one, I assume," said Skye. "I've heard your concerns, Agent Harris, and I assure you I'll be cautious. But as I said, I know a great deal about this person, and I feel confident that our meeting will be productive." Then he held out his hand for the phone. "The phone number, Agent Luciano?"
Tony told him, and he dialed the castle. "Hello," they heard him say when someone answered. "I wish to speak to someone there at the castle . . . my name isn't important. This person is a former prisoner who was recently released from years of captivity. Many long years. I believe he goes by the name of Mulcifer. Yes, I will." Two minutes passed before Skye spoke again.
"Hello, Mr. Mulcifer, I wonder if it . . . all right, Mulcifer, then. I wonder if it would be possible to schedule a meeting with you. . . . Well, I have a proposition that I think you may be interested in. It concerns recent activities that have taken place in London. . . . Let me just say that I represent certain parties who have a great deal of interest in your rather special gifts, and that a meeting might prove beneficial to all of us. I'm delighted to hear it. . . . Wherever you like . . . where precisely would that be? . . . Very well. And when? . . . Yes, that would be fine. Tell me, would it be all right if I brought along a few associates? . . . Excellent. Thank you . . . I'll see you then." Skye hung up.
"So how long do we have to keep Inspector Fraser locked up?" Joseph asked.
"I'll be meeting the gentleman tomorrow evening," Skye replied, "so she'll have to be our guest until then."
"You'll be taking us along?"
Skye shook his head. "Agents Finch and Weyrman will accompany me." He didn't give any explanation, and Laika knew that to ask for one would only anger him further. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are some other private calls I need to make. Would the three of you mind going outside for a moment." It wasn't a question, and the operatives went out through the back door.
"Damn, I'd give a lot to hear that call," Joseph said.
"You will," said Laika. "Tony hooked up a recorder. We'll get the other side of the call to Mulcifer, too." She put an affectionate hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're back. And I mean, I'm glad you're back."
Joseph shook his head. "I am so sorry. God, I would have killed you all if . . ." He looked at Tony.
"I'm sorry, too," Tony said. "It was the only way to stop you. It's a miracle that it worked out the way it did."
"This time I'll buy that miracle story," Joseph said. "But that doesn't mean I'm converted." They laughed softly together. "I don't know how to tell you what it was like." Laika could barely hear him. "I didn't want to, but I didn't have any choice. I couldn't fight it. I just wasn't strong enough."
"From what we know," Tony said, "if he can touch you, if you . . . share his blood, like you said, I don't think anyone is strong enough."
"Somebody's got to be," Joseph said. "I don't think we've got much of a chance otherwise."
Chapter 42
Two hours later, when Finch and Weyrman picked up Skye and drove him to Gairloch, Laika, Tony, and Joseph listened to the tape. The first conversation was with Mulcifer, and Joseph closed his eyes when he heard the voice.
It sent a chill through Laika, too. It was a voice that seemed totally in control, yet also twisted, as though its owner was about to start cackling at any moment over his imaginary—or, in this case, all too real—power. Mulcifer and Skye were going to meet on the beach at the foot of Castle Dirk the following evening at sunset. When Skye had asked if Mulcifer would mind if he brought associates, he had replied, "The more the merri
er."
"I wonder what kind of merriment Mulcifer has in mind," Laika said. "I don't envy Skye, and I certainly don't envy Finch and Weyrman. What's the next call, the private one?"
They didn't recognize either of the voices on the following call:
Unknown woman: Yes?
Skye: This is Skye.
Woman: Hold on.
Unknown man: Yes?
Skye: I've found him.
Man: Where?
Skye: Scotland. The Gairloch peninsula on the northwest coast. I've spoken to him, set up a meeting for tomorrow at sunset.
Man: Tell me where exactly. I'll be there.
Skye: I don't know if that's wise. He can be violent. It may not be safe for you to enter the picture yet.
Man: It'll be safe. And I'll make those decisions. Now where?
Skye gave the man a detailed description of how to get to the beach below Castle Dirk, and the man hung up without another word. Skye continued to breathe into the phone, then muttered, "Shit," and hung up.
"Either of you recognize the other voice?" Laika asked Tony and Joseph.
Tony shook his head and started to try and trace the call, but Joseph looked quizzical. "It sounded familiar to me, but I can't place it. I don't even have an idea of where I might have heard it."
"What's Skye trying to do in the first place?" Tony asked. "Talk Mulcifer into surrendering, or something?"
"I'm not sure," Laika said. "But I am sure that he knows more about Mulcifer than he's telling us, and he knows less than he needs to. It seems to me that he isn't as hot to capture Mulcifer as he is just to contact him. Skye's not an emotional man, but he seemed almost anxious to get an audience from the thing. He may have something totally different up his sleeve."
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