Magic Lantern
Page 1
Magic Lantern
Des Sheridan
Part 3 of the Triskell Story
* * *
Published Des Sheridan January 2014
Copyright Des Sheridan
ISBN : 978-1-78301-301-2
The right of Des Sheridan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.This e-book is copyrighted under the Berne Convention. All rights reserved.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.
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Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at http://about.me/dessheridan
Editor: Jill Clough
Cover design and illustration: Andy Fielding www.andyfielding.co.uk
Preface
The Triskell Mystery is a single continuous narrative. To maximise your enjoyment of the story, and understanding of the plotlines and characters, the reader is strongly encouraged to read the three parts in sequential order. To purchase Part 1 House of the Dead and Part 2 Helter Skelter follow the link to my website http://about.me/dessheridan. A short glossary of the Celtic gods often referred to in Part 3 Magic Lantern can be found at the end the book.
For Sue
with thanks for her patience, support
and belief
Contents
Part I: Arz
Chapter 1: Mont Saint-Michel, France, 21 October 2014
Chapter 2: Berlin, Germany, 19 October 2014
Chapter 3: Arz, France, 21 October 2014
Chapter 4: Mont Saint-Michel, France, 21 October 2014
Chapter 5: Arz, France, 21 October 2014
Chapter 6: Mont Saint-Michel, France, 21 October 2014
Chapter 7: Arz, France, 22 October 2014, 08:20
Chapter 8: Arz, France, 22 October 2014, 10:05
Chapter 9: Arz, France, 22 October 2014, 11:25
Chapter 10: Arz, France, 22 October 2014, 11:34
Chapter 11: Arz, France, 22 October 2014, 11:48
Part II: The Medium
Chapter 12: Nantes, France, 22 October 2014
Chapter 13: Buedon, France, 22 October 2014
Chapter 14: Nantes, France, 23 October 2014
Chapter 15: Buedon, France, 22 October 2014
Chapter 16: Arundel, UK, 22 October 2014
Chapter 17: Nantes, France, 23 October 2014
Chapter 18: Buedon, France, 23 October 2014
Chapter 19: Machecoul, France, 24 October 2014
Chapter 20: Buedon, France, 23 October 2014
Chapter 21: Nantes, France, 24 October 2014
Chapter 22: Essé, France, 24 October 2014
Chapter 23: Nantes, France, 24 October 2014
Chapter 24: Buedon, France, 25 October 2014
Chapter 25: Nantes, 25 October 2014
Chapter 26: Buedon, France, 25 October 2014
Part III: The Deacon
Chapter 27: France, 26 October 2014, 11:42
Chapter 28: Taizé, France, 26 October 2014, 21:28
Chapter 29: Buedon, France, 26 October 2014, 13:27
Chapter 30: Taizé, France, 26 October 2014, 22:19
Chapter 31: Buedon, France, 26 October 2014, 17:53
Chapter 32: Taizé, France, 26 October 2014, 23:16
Chapter 33: Taizé, France, 27 October 2014, 01:14
Chapter 34: Taizé, France, 27 October 2014, 00:22
Chapter 35: Buedon, France, 26 October 2014, 23:35
Chapter 36: Sligo, Ireland, 25 October 2014
Chapter 37: Buedon, France, 27 October 2014
Part IV: The Breton
Chapter 38: Essé, France, 26 October 2014
Chapter 39: Buedon, France, 27 October 2014
Chapter 40: Sligo, Ireland, 27 October 2014
Chapter 41 : Paimpont Forest, France, 28 October 2014
Chapter 42: Arz, France, 29 October 2014
Chapter 43: Paimpont Forest, France, 28 October 2014
Chapter 44 : Arz, France, 29 October 2014
Chapter 45 : Nantes, France, 29 October 2014
Part V: La Roche Aux Fées
Chapter 46: Essé, France, 31 October 2014, 18:25
Chapter 47: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 21:25
Chapter 48: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014; 22:10
Chapter 49: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 22:30
Chapter 50: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 22:40
Chapter 51: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 22:57
Chapter 52: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:05
Chapter 53: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:30
Chapter 54: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:35
Chapter 55: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:40
Chapter 56: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:52
Chapter 57: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:55
Chapter 58: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:57
Chapter 59: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:58
Chapter 60: La Roche aux Fées, France, 31 October 2014, 23:58
Chapter 61: La Roche aux Fées, France, 1 November 2014, 00:03
Chapter 62: La Roche Aux Fées, France, 1 November 2014, 01:16
Part VI: Gavrinis
Chapter 63: Guérande, France, 1 November 2014, 08:31
Chapter 64: Guérande, France, 1 November 2014, 13:10
Chapter 65: Guérande, France, 1 November 2014; 14:50
Chapter 66: Guérande, France, 2 November 2014
Chapter 67: Golfe du Morbihan, France, 3 November 2014
Chapter 68: Gavrinis, France, 3 November 2014, 12:23
Chapter 69: Gavrinis, France, 3 November 201, 13:04
Chapter 70: Gavrinis, France, 3 November 2014, 13:16
Chapter 71: Gavrinis, France, 3 November 2014, 13:20
Chapter 72: Gavrinis, France, 3 November 2014, 13:21
Chapter 73: Gavrinis, France, 3 November 2014
Chapter 74: Larmor-Barden, France, 3 November 2014
Chapter 75: Arz, France, 16 November 2014
Part I : Arz
Chapter 1
Mont Saint-Michel, France, 21 October 2014
Plunging feet first into the cold blue waters of Cuesnon Bay, Tara Ruane felt the freezing-cold seawater drench her clothes in an instant, jolting every nerve in her body into survival mode. She gulped against the choking flood of salty water invading her throat as her downward dive through the water column reversed after about twenty seconds. She was astounded, certain she should have smashed her head or broken a leg on a rock but there had been no such impacts. Her momentum had carried her safely down through the water column until having slowed she shot back
upwards, breaking the surface of the choppy sea, gasping for breath. At once a clamour assaulted her ears - the screeching roar of an engine nearby mixed in with voices and the calls of seabirds - washed through the echoing whoosh of water, as she tossed about.
Robert’s head was bobbing in the water perhaps ten feet away. Spotting her as she surfaced he waved a hand then pointed. Tara saw that the boat – their hope of rescue - was close, less than three metres away, manoeuvring to reach them. For an awful second she thought it was going to hit her, but then she saw Clement’s sun-browned arm sharply jerk the tiller. At once the prow swept past her and Nico, wasting no time, reached out and grabbed her under one arm, hauling her onto the rigid inflatable boat with a deft movement. Vaguely she registered that for a slim man his upper arm strength was impressive.
Tara tried to right herself and seized hold of a rope that was looped through hooks around the side of the speedboat. It was an RIB, one of those low-lying rubber boats that the emergency services use and whose low sides make it easier to climb on board. Two shots rang out, thudding into the water a few feet from Robert’s head. She watched him open his mouth wide, to fill his lungs with air, before diving under again to avoid the assassin’s aim. As the boat completed a circle in the water and headed back to where he was last seen, she spotted him resurfacing. Glimpsing their presence, he pushed himself down at an angle into the water and disappeared from view. Panic gripped her. What the hell was he doing? Seconds later he propelled himself upwards into the air as the boat passed. Next moment Nico’s arms closed around him in a firm clamp and the two men fell back together with a crash on the floor of the vessel, causing the RIB to lunge to one side. Tara felt anxious when the boat didn’t rapidly stabilise after the impact but then realised that Clement was twisting and turning the craft crazily to avoid incoming gunfire from the ramparts. Nico and Robert were splayed on the bottom of the boat, gasping for breath, with water slouching off them and sloshing about the base of the craft. Clement savagely depressed the throttle on the Mercury 225 horse power engine, swinging the inflatable around in a one-hundred-and-eighty degree arc, before catapulting it seawards.
Tara, scrambling to her knees, found herself flung violently backwards. She winced with pain as she landed awkwardly on an ankle and found herself facing over the stern of the vessel. Though a curtain of spray she saw Mont Saint-Michel receding fast behind them. Adrenalin surged through her. They had pulled it off! They were escaping! She heard Robert yell out loud and turned to see him jabbing a fist repeatedly into the air. Beyond him Nico’s two rows of white Italian teeth gleamed back at her. The three of them spontaneously embraced to celebrate their escape before settling down onto the padded seats that flanked the sides of the boat. The RIB, moving at top speed, crashed heavily from one wave crest to another, making a great thud each time it bounced off successive ridges of water. The dislodged spray streamed over them and they clung on to the loops of the side ropes for safety. Nico had chosen the boat well. The strain-hardened hull proved it was well up to the beating Clement was giving it.
Twenty minutes later they docked at a small marina further down the coast where speedboats, small yachts and recreational fishing boats were lazily moored. Knowing that they needed to make good their escape, Clement led Robert and Tara straight towards a parked van while Nico disappeared into the wooden office. Tara found herself unsteady on her legs and suddenly felt woozy. She wondered if she was in shock then, distracted by a sudden craving, blurted out,
‘I don’t know why I said I wouldn’t drink on the Mont, Robert. Can we stop in Fougères before we go to Arz? I could murder a beer!’
‘Tara, be quiet, you are shouting! People will hear you!’ hissed Clement in her ear.
‘What? No, I am not shouting!’ she responded back, although on reflection she had to admit her voice did sound a bit loud.
She was swaying on her feet when Robert suddenly lifted her up and laid her on the floor of the van, before climbing in after her. Behind them Clement slammed the doors shut. After a few minutes’ delay Tara felt the vehicle start to move. She and Robert huddled together, wet and shivering, and Tara realised that her shaking was very pronounced. It must be shock, she thought. There was no seating or padding in the rear of the van, and Clement was driving fast, which added to her discomfort and made for a very disagreeable journey in the rear of the vehicle.
When they finally reached the chalet, she went straight in to the shower, the welcome warm water reinvigorating her and washing away the temporary hair dye. Tara, looking at the stream of coloured water about her feet, offered up a prayer of thanks that it wasn’t blood she was washing away. Instantly she remembered shooting the woman and her mood plunged. My God! What have I done? she asked herself, standing stock still with the water powering down over her.
When she emerged she discovered that the others had broken camp. The chalet was stripped and the cars and vans packed. Robert had changed clothes and his hair was back to its normal shade. He must have washed it in the sink. She was reassured by its familiar hue.
‘Tara, come on! Time to go!’ he called with a smile.
At Fougères the convoy parted ways. Availing themselves of four of the seven routes radiating from the town, the vehicles fanned out in different directions, seeking anonymity, heading for places to lie low. The classic dispersal of an operations squad when its mission was completed, Robert informed her.
Looking at her watch Tara saw that it was just over an hour and a quarter since they had landed. Pretty good, she thought, as they headed for Arz. It should take less than an hour to get there. At Arz they would have a few days to follow up Jeanette’s clues, free from their pursuers. Not bad going for a day’s work - not bad at all. Until you remembered the killing, she thought, suddenly guilt-stricken. Her shivering resumed.
Chapter 2
Berlin, Germany, 19 October 2014
Kirsten Lanzer, having just completed a two-day modelling shoot, was in her friend Astrid’s apartment. It was in a large converted warehouse in the Prenzlauer Berg district of what used to be East Berlin. A post-reunification makeover had turned the area from working-class shabby to boho chic. They were relaxing with a bottle of wine. Kirsten was sitting cross-legged on a rug and Astrid was stretched out on a long sofa piled high with small cushions. Kirsten had been sounding off negatively about her partner, Pascal.
‘So why do you put up with his behaviour?’ Astrid asked.
‘Well’, said Kirsten, ‘Where shall I start? He is incredibly rich, sexy, powerful, unpredictable, interesting...’
Kirsten was making light of it but in reality she was becoming obsessed with Pascal, her anger at his mistreatment returning again and again.
Astrid looked at her curiously, as though not convinced. ‘OK, but you know what they say. Like it or lump it. Stay or go. When do you see him again?’
‘In about five days. Oh, and that’s where I need your help. I promised to prepare some potions for the Samhain ceremony.’
‘Why? You don’t know anything about potions, do you?’
‘No. But I want to show that hag Freya that I can. And because I have a friend who does know – you!’
‘Cheek! You haven’t asked me nicely. In fact you haven’t asked me at all.’
‘Well I have now. You will, won’t you? Be a darling. I’ll do anything you want!’
Astrid laughed. ‘Well, I will gladly help you devise the recipes but you can get off your backside and purchase the ingredients yourself. I am not a skivvy. I will tell you where to go for them, though, and help you prepare the potions nearer the time. It must be done correctly or the magical ingredients will not blend.’
‘Good girl! I knew I could rely on you.’
Kirsten was relieved. She and Astrid had gone to boarding school together in England and were close. Like sisters they often argued but the bond was deep. Not that she told Astrid about the more controversial aspects of her life with Pascal. That was too risky. She knew that A
strid took the Wiccan Rede – its code of ethics - seriously and would not use Wicca for ill. She was almost as moral as a Christian.
‘OK, but there is a price.’ Astrid continued.
‘Go on then. Tell me,’ Kirsten replied, wondering what her friend might want.
‘You must let me explain to you about the Triple Goddess. You need to have basic understanding, Kirsten, if the magic is to work.’
‘Pascal talks about the Mórríoghain as having three facets: the maiden, the mother and the crone. Is that the same thing?’
‘It is one Celtic expression of it but the Triple Goddess underlies the beliefs of many civilizations, including classical Greece. She is the Moon Goddess who predates all the later patriarchal belief systems. This links to the three phases of the moon. The maiden represents the waxing moon, the mother the full moon and the crone the waning moon. She represents creation, fertility and death – the life principles. What is Pascal’s interest in the Mórríoghain?’
‘He – in the form of the male God, Daghdha, wants to fuck her at Samhain so she can bear him a magical child’.
Astrid laughed. ‘Typical – the patriarchal principle again! The real nature of the Mórríoghain’s relationship with man lies in the Cú Chulainn myth. It is much darker and more interesting. The man is the one who gets fucked for a change!’
Kirsten whooped her approval, getting up and topping up their wine glasses. Her interest pricked up too. Pascal had made some obscure reference to the Shay Healey murder as being linked to the Cú Chulainn story.
‘Sounds great. Tell me more!’
‘Well, the Mórríoghain - who is the Goddess of war, fertility and sovereignty - falls for the warrior Cú Chulainn and offers him her love. But he insults her by rejecting her advances and she becomes his Nemesis, foretelling the circumstances of his death in battle and how she will hinder his ability to fight. She then witnesses it by presenting herself as a raven that lands on his dying shoulder. It is purest archetype. His mistake is not to acknowledge the feminine power of sovereignty that she offers him and must perish for the offence. Are you OK?’