The 4th Secret

by R D Shah

  ‘I apologise. Do you wish to be known as Pope Adrian or just His Holiness?’

  The remark was so brazenly disrespectful that the total lack of deference sent a sobering chill coursing through Wilcox. ‘No, but Sir will do.’

  ‘Of course sir,’ came the reply, and this time the tone seemed totally void of any disrespect. ‘May I ask if your plastic surgery was a success?’

  ‘I am pleased to say that the scars have almost healed,’ Wilcox replied, gently rubbing at the fading lines around his nose and across his forehead. ‘From a distance I should be unrecognisable, but I’m not sure how it will stand up under any closer inspection. Still, I am sure you can give me an opinion of your own when we meet.’ Wilcox croaked to clear the annoying phlegm from his throat, and silently cursed the new habit that had caused it. ‘So, back to the point, has it been organised yet?’

  There was silence at the other end of the line.

  ‘Well?’ Wilcox demanded.

  ‘Sir, the general consensus is that to arrange a meeting of the entire Magi council would not be prudent at this time.’

  ‘Not prudent?’ Wilcox yelled, gripping the phone tighter. ‘And why is that, exactly?’

  The voice now hesitated to reply and when it did it sounded far more tactful. ‘It is concerning that very matter that the Council expressed its wish that I speak to you in person.’

  Wilcox deliberately held back an answer and waited a few moments in the hope that this would add an air of authority to a conversation he felt he was struggling to maintain control of. ‘Very well,’ he replied, ‘then you will come to me?’

  ‘Agreed,’ the voice continued. ‘I will join you in person as soon as I can.’ The line then abruptly went dead … and along with it vanished Wilcox’s restraint.

  ‘Those scheming bastards,’ he raged, reflecting on the flippant tone of the call itself and sensing the beginnings of a potential coup for leadership of the Magi. The peasants were clearly becoming restless, and his being out of sight was only making them bolder. ‘If the Council think they can usurp my authority, then they are about to have a nasty awakening,’ he ranted inwardly. ‘I am the Magi.’

  Within seconds, the ex-pontiff began punching another number into his phone, his breathing starting to calm as the line connected.

  ‘How can I serve you, my lord?’

  ‘We have a guest on the way and I will need one of your men on hand when he arrives. Someone persuasive.’

  ‘Of course, sir. I have just the man for you and I will make sure he is ready for your summons.’

  ‘Good, because dissension is in the air,’ Wilcox licked his lips, ‘and we might therefore have to do a spot of house cleaning.’

  Chapter 7

  ‘I have never encountered the name McCray therefore I certainly don’t know him, and for the record, even though my circle of friends is a bit small at the moment, I can assure you it does not and never has contained any psychopaths. Anyway, seeing as he turned up the same time as you did, I would suggest you might know more about him than I do.’ Doctor Chloe Stanton stole a sip from her glass of orange juice, and sat back in her chair with arms folded. ‘But I will tell you what is suspect, Professor Harker. What is suspect, is that this maniac turns up on the very same night that you decided to visit us.’ Chloe was now glaring across the table accusingly. ‘So how about it, Mr Professor? Are you ready to share?’

  Harker rubbed at his tightened lips angrily, then turned away only to come directly face to face with an old man wearing a thick cream jumper, corduroy trousers and a pair of blue wellingtons, who was seated at the adjacent table. The man’s ruddy cheeks bore tribute to a lifetime of overindulgence in alcohol.

  ‘I’d dare say you’re in a lot of trouble here, boy,’ the old man quipped, obviously fascinated by the conversation going on at the table next to him.

  ‘Thank you for that,’ Harker replied drily, scanning the room for any other inquisitive faces. Fortunately, the pub’s other patrons were all far too preoccupied by their own beverages in the warm and cosy surroundings of a small country tavern.

  It had taken almost a full five minutes before Harker had felt willing to ease up on the BMW’s accelerator, after tearing out of Blackwater’s front entrance gate. Luckily the car’s engine had not been overly damaged by the Night Caller’s ‘high dive’ from the asylum’s roof, even if the bonnet itself was a complete write-off. Doctor Stanton – or Chloe as she told him she preferred to be called – had immediately contacted the asylum’s director to inform him of the break-out, or to be more accurate the break-in. Initially her superior had been livid that Chloe had chosen to leave the facility, but his attitude had soon mellowed at the mention of a killer with a gun and of her hazardous escape. It was only after she revealed the senseless murder of Nurse Decker that the aggressive tone from the earpiece subsided and she was sternly given two orders:

  not to notify anyone of the incident but allow him to contact the authorities; and

  find a place to sit tight and wait for his call.

  After that, Chloe had directed them both to the nearby Fox and Hound pub, the only place open at this time of night. After finding a secluded place to park Harker’s damaged BMW down a back road and out of sight, the two of them had made their way inside for a restorative drink. The not calling the police part had jarred on Harker initially but he had soon agreed because getting himself dragged back to the asylum by the authorities would have potentially put him right back into McCray’s line of sight.

  ‘Well Professor?’ Chloe continued, with a glare ‘It’s interesting how this all began with your arrival.’

  ‘My arrival!’ Harker gasped irritably, the implication angering him. Of course she was right, partially at least, but that wasn’t the point. ‘I’ll tell you what’s interesting; what’s interesting is that you just happened to turn up at exactly the right time.’

  The vague accusation drew a deep look of disbelief from her. ‘The right time! You mean the right time to save your life.’

  ‘Or the right time to ingratiate yourself into my good books.’ he responded boldly, then ticked himself off for not articulating the allegation more precisely. Still, when making a mistake while directing an accusing remark of that type, there’s not really a lot you can do. You just have to move on and hope your opponent does likewise. Unfortunately, Chloe did not.

  ‘Trying to get into your good books?’ Chloe seethed.

  ‘Look, I just don’t know if I fully trust you, all right.’ Harker replied.

  ‘Well, that’s fine by me because I’m not sure I can trust you either, you arrogant sod. I save your life and you then think I’m just trying to endear myself to you. You complete and utter connard.’

  ‘Connard?’ Harker echoed with a look of surprise.

  ‘Yes, it means asshole in French.’

  ‘I know what it means,’ Harker replied with a smirk. ‘Why not say it in English?’

  ‘Because I have manners, that’s why.’ Chloe shuffled in her seat. ‘But you are, without a doubt, one of the biggest connards I have ever met.’

  ‘OK, I was wrong and I apologise.’ Harker held his hands up in surrender.

  Chloe assessed the sincerity on Harker’s face, before her shoulders sagged and she offered him an accepting nod. ‘Apology accepted.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Harker replied, letting out a sigh. ‘It’s just been a long time since I was insulted in a foreign language.’

  ‘Not any more.’ Chloe informed him cheerfully, now enjoying the air of defeat that Harker was deliberately exuding.

  ‘Thanks again, and I am genuinely grateful that you turned up when you did.’

  Chloe offered him an appreciative nod. ‘And thank you for helping me get out of there without being shot.’

  ‘We good now?’ Harker raised his pint of bitter towards her.

  Chloe clinked her glass with his. ‘We’re good.’’

  To their right the old man sitting at the next table raised his g
lass as well. ‘We’re all good.’ he remarked with a lonely smile.

  Harker grimaced back at him. ‘Again thank you, but this really is a private conversation.’

  The smile on the lone drinker’s face evaporated. ‘Damn, boy, you really are a connard.’ The old man then cursed quietly before turning his back on them both.

  ‘Told you,’ Chloe said with a sarcastic smile, and was taking a self-congratulatory sip of her drink when the mobile in her pocket began to vibrate, the surprise of it causing her to spill some on to the lacquered-wooden table top.

  ‘Serves you right.’ Harker grinned mockingly as Chloe put down her drink and pulled out the offending item to answer it.

  ‘Hello?’

  Harker continued to nurse the pint in front of him while he watched Chloe’s expression shift from curious to complete disbelief as she digested the caller’s news.

  ‘Doctor Wenson, I can assure you it was not a dereliction of my duties. And given the circumstances … that’s impossible, I saw the body … wait just a minute you can’t do that. Hello …. Hello!’

  Chloe snapped shut the flip-top phone and placed it back in her pocket, her eyes glazing over. Harker already pretty much guessed what had just happened, because the Magi – if that’s who these psychos were – had a habit of making bodies and evidence disappear. It formed the cornerstone of their ability to evade the authorities so well. After all, if there’s no body there’s no crime. ‘Who was that?’ he asked, nevertheless.

  ‘Doctor Wenson, my department head,’ Chloe muttered, the incredulity in her voice blatantly obvious, ‘I’m now being held responsible for negligence in the deaths of two inmates.’

  ‘Two? Since when was Nurse Decker an inmate?’ Harker already had an idea but decided to play dumb, not wanting to become the unwitting focus of Chloe’s mounting anger.

  ‘He wasn’t,’ she managed, expelling a controlled sigh. ‘His body wasn’t even found, so he’s simply being considered missing. As for the dead, they found one of the inmates exactly where we left him in the car park.’

  ‘And the other?’

  ‘The other was Marcus Eckard. He attacked one of the orderlies but was fought off. When the security team finally got things back under control, he was found hanging by a bed sheet in his own cell. In both cases they’re being labelled suicides.’

  Even though Harker had been expecting the worst for Eckard, just hearing it confirmed somehow made things worse, but what really got his attention was how disheartened Chloe looked. ‘Chloe, it’s not your fault. Wasn’t Decker supposed to be in charge?’

  Chloe eyed him vacantly. ‘They checked the security records… and it was my security pass that was used to release all the security doors. They think I did it deliberately.’

  ‘Jesus, I’m sorry, Chloe. If you want us to head back to Blackwater, I would be happy to back you up and explain everything.’

  Chloe’s blank stare quickly dissolved. ‘And explain what exactly? That an insane gunman with a penchant for Halloween masks decided to let loose the majority of the UK’s most dangerous prisoners before killing the man in charge – who, by the way, has miraculously disappeared – and then chasing us two within an inch of our lives, and finally attempting to use one of the patients as a makeshift kite.’ She paused and massaged both sides of her forehead, then took a particularly deep swig of her drink. ‘Oh, yes, and don’t forget this maniac has the technical skills to change the records and make it look like I released all the inmates, before disappearing as quickly as he arrived.’ She was close to shouting and the occupants of a table in the corner were now staring at her with intrigue.

  ‘Do you mind?’ she said, glaring at them ferociously.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ came the response from one of the other tables, followed by a few laughs. ‘I don’t mind at all.’

  Chloe allowed her anger to pass and, with a strained smile, she returned her attention to Harker who had meanwhile shrunk into his seat, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, as the surrounding patrons gradually resumed their conversations.

  ‘I think it’s time you told me what the hell is going on?’ she demanded.

  Feeling backed into a corner, and not wanting to draw any more undue attention, Harker offered her a conciliatory nod and then continued. ‘Look, I’m as surprised as you are, and before tonight I had never even heard of Marcus Eckard, let alone who or what that psycho was! All I know is that I was asked by a friend to meet with Doctor Eckard.’ Harker paused for another gulp from his pint as the grisly image of Eckard’s scarred features flashed through his mind.

  A Doctor? That was a joke.

  ‘This friend of mine wanted me to ask him about some stupid secret he is supposed to know of and like an idiot I agreed. The next thing I know the lights go out and some crazy wearing a mask unleashes yet more crazies on me. That’s before meeting you and finally being chased off the roof by someone whose sole intent was to put a bullet in my brain.’

  ‘Let’s not forget the murder,’ Chloe corrected and winding Harker up even further.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Harker replied, draining the last drops from his pint glass and dumping it back on to the table. ‘How could I forget seeing a man have his head blown off? You see, you’re not the only one with problems, Chloe.’

  Harker pushed the empty glass to one side and squared up. ‘Now … where would you like me to drop you off?’

  Chloe allowed the question linger in the air as she inspected Harker’s expression, her eyes beginning to glow with interest. ‘Who was the friend?’

  ‘The friend?’

  ‘Yes, the friend who asked you to meet with Marcus Eckard.’

  ‘No one in particular.’ Harker shrugged his shoulders. ‘He’s a Catholic priest from my time in the Church.’

  His response garnered an appraising look from Chloe. ‘Well, that’s not at all surprising.’

  ‘What, that he’s a priest or that I was in the Church?’

  ‘Both,’ she smiled shrewdly, ‘but more so that he’s a priest – what with Eckard’s incessant talk of prophecies.’

  It was Harker’s turn to smile, and he then laughed sarcastically. ‘Don’t tell me you buy into all that rubbish?’

  Chloe’s own smile faded and she let her head loll pensively to one side. ‘I’m not sure, but I tell you what I do buy, and that is that you know a lot more about this business than you’re letting on.’ She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table top and resting her chin on her hands. ‘I also know who you are, Professor Harker.’

  This unexpected announcement sounded like an accusation, and it caught him off guard. ‘And what the hell does that mean?’ he asked, shaking his head.

  ‘It means I read the papers and I’ve read all about your exploits at the Vatican last year.’

  Harker’s face fell and his puzzled expression was instantly replaced by a look of contempt. ‘Oh, you’re not one of those, are you?’ he uttered with a groan. ‘You seem far too intelligent to have been suckered into that ridiculous conspiracy.’

  ‘I may be an atheist, Professor, but it is hardly ridiculous!’ Chloe sputtered, now offering her own look of contempt. ‘The Pope of the Catholic Church disappears into thin air just after delivering a speech to world leaders that the Second Coming has occurred … and how about that cardinal who was shot the same night inside St Peter’s basilica.’ She paused briefly to suck in another breath, her face wearing the same look of sarcasm that had adorned Harker’s only moments earlier. ‘And you now turn up at the asylum and begin discussing with Marcus Eckard about the Second Coming and some prophecies to come…’

  ‘Wait a second,’ Harker jumped in, shocked at this revelation, ‘how do you know what we were talking about?’

  ‘Because I was watching you on the security camera.’ Harker was looking more and more alarmed with every word as she leant closer towards him so as not to attract any inquisitive ears. ‘You don’t honestly think I would let anyone speak to my patient in the
middle of the night without ensuring it wasn’t anything detrimental to his mental health, do you? How do you think I got down to the ward so quickly? It’s because I was watching you.’

  ‘You told me earlier that you didn’t even know I was there. Why?’ snarled Harker, riled by the deception.

  ‘Because I did not want it to become an issue – like it is right now – whilst we were in the middle of a lockdown, that’s why,’ Chloe replied reasonably and sat back in her chair. ‘I recognised you the moment you entered the building and I also know what you both talked about and that he directed you to a location. But he didn’t have a chance to reveal everything before that maniac turned up and started trying to kill everyone … And, seeing as Marcus Eckard is dead, I would say you’re unlikely to ever get that information.’

  She anxiously picked up her drink and took two deep sips before continuing, her gaze never leaving Harker’s stunned expression. ‘That is unless you accept my help – and, believe me I can help. Do you know how?’

  Harker raised his eyes mockingly as if wanting to make her forced intrusion into his affairs as difficult as possible. ‘Well, you apparently know everything so why don’t you illuminate me.’

  Chloe ignored the condescending tone and continued. ‘Because I know what Marcus was trying to tell you. He had the words cut into his skin and I saw them daily. As I already told you, he was my patient for several years.’

  Harker began to assess his newest friend’s offer. He searched her face for any signs of deception but found none. In fact, the only thing he could detect was a slight twinge of nervousness from her and the longer he stared the more that twinge grew. But, considering she had almost been murdered tonight, he thought she was holding up pretty well. Such thoughts rapidly began to fade, leaving Harker with a single important question. The most generic and important question there ever is: ‘Why?’