The Temple Legacy

by D C Macey

  ‘Now, let’s get rid of the rest of them, shall we?’ said Parsol. He turned the gun towards Helen, who glared back at him. She stood defiant yet resigned, with one comforting hand resting on Grace’s shoulder while the girl knelt trying to protect and share a last moment of love with her mother.

  Cassiter nodded, but was mindful of the distant sirens. ‘Yes, but do it now, we need to be gone,’ he said.

  Helen stared at Parsol and his pistol as it lined up on her face. This was the end. She was angry at these monsters and at herself. She did not fully understand what had happened but knew she had let her friends down. For one moment she even registered sadness that she had failed in her task, whatever it was. Evil was triumphing and John’s trust in her had been misplaced. She had led the people she loved and trusted into terrible suffering and there was nothing she could now do, except pray. She pulled her head fully upright. Glaring defiantly back along the barrel into Parsol’s eye, Helen started the Lord’s Prayer. ‘Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name…’

  Parsol gave a little laugh as she prayed, and then spoke over her prayer. ‘Little lady, you should have given me what I wanted. It’s too late for you now, and certainly too late for your prayers. I don’t think your God hears you, hmmm?’ As he spoke he steadied the pistol with both hands, fixed his final aim but didn’t fire, he seemed frozen. Helen had seen the accuracy of his previous shots, and she could not understand why she was still alive. She continued her prayer, determinedly holding his eye.

  She noticed Parsol’s head seemed to twitch very slightly, jerking a little away from the doorframe. As it moved, it was followed by the silver barrel of a neat little pistol pressed hard against the side of his skull.

  ‘I think, perhaps, God does hear her prayer,’ Xavier’s voice spoke from the gloom of the corridor.

  Cassiter spun in alarm as Angelo pushed Parsol clear of the doorframe by applying more pressure against his skull with the pistol’s muzzle. Xavier stepped round to take Parsol’s pistol from his hand. ‘Mine now, I think, yes?’ Xavier pointed the pistol at Cassiter. ‘Don’t move. I would hate to have to shoot a man in the house of God, but if needs must, well…’

  Xavier looked over to Helen. ‘Say nothing, we must get rid of these dogs first,’ he said. ‘Then we fix things.’

  More out of disbelief than agreement, Helen nodded. At that moment she didn’t much care what Xavier meant by get rid of, was just pleased her people were still alive. She did wonder for just a second about priests with guns, but then it did not seem the biggest issue of the moment and she pushed the thought aside. Xavier and Angelo guided Parsol and Cassiter away down the little corridor towards the old wooden door. Helen registered that it was now open but didn’t question how Xavier had managed that.

  Helen went to help Grace untie her mother; with her nurse’s training, Helen could help Elaine, but not much here.

  It may have been better to sit tight, but nature kicked in. Fight or flight. With the first rush of adrenalin subsiding, primeval instinct overrode everything: flight. Helen and Grace struggled to get Elaine away from the danger zone. They got her to her feet and hurried her through to the nave, up into the pulpit and down into the dark space beneath. Elaine was too dazed and hurt to register any surprise as Grace opened the doorway into the stair beneath.

  With them safe inside the tunnel, Helen headed back towards Xavier. She could not understand why the police had not arrived, but perhaps she could stop any more killings.

  Moving through the vestry, she opened the door that fed into the little corridor beyond, and her senses were assaulted by the roaring engines of a police helicopter as it arrived above the church. It seemed to be hovering directly beyond the open door; she knew it was close, she could feel its downdraught blowing right along the little corridor. Xavier and Angelo were between her and the door; beyond them, and controlled by the pressure of pistol muzzles in their backs, were Cassiter and Parsol. They were all stood just inside the doorway, invisible to the helicopter and its camera that was recording every visible detail of the scene while transmitting a live radio account back to the police incident commander and his control team.

  • • •

  In his control unit, the incident commander listened impassively to the audio feeds from his teams. He waited, building a full picture in his mind’s eye before committing his force. Following a passer-by’s report of a woman’s tortured screams and then gunfire from the church, his men had closed the road immediately in front of the church. Now it was clear of civilians, allowing his squads unfettered access once he gave the word, and he was almost ready. Just waiting for the armed response units that were due to arrive at any moment. They had been delayed following their attendance at a bogus firearms incident on the other side of the city, in Leith. In the meantime, the incident commander wanted a complete visual scan of the area from above - he still didn’t know if this was a robbery gone wrong, some sort of religious terrorism or perhaps a domestic flare up that had gone way over the top.

  Whatever the cause, he was taking no chances. He had reports of people running about in the grounds, cries of pain, sounds of gunfire and the church’s great wooden doors were jammed shut, barring access. Now the scene seemed suddenly quieter and as he had a helicopter available, a few moments spent appraising the situation could save lives. His squads were champing at the bit to go in, once the helicopter sweep was completed and the armed response teams had arrived he would unleash them all.

  • • •

  In the vestry corridor the engine roar subsided as the helicopter veered away, circling to look at the other side of the church and then to sweep on out across the cemetery; to give the incident commander the full picture he wanted.

  Xavier pressed the pistol harder into Parsol’s back. ‘I think it is your lucky day today,’ he said. Then, aware that Helen was behind him he spoke to her over his shoulder so Parsol and Cassiter could hear. ‘We can leave these two for the police, yes? Justice for them and it keeps our hands clean,’ he flashed her a dry smile as he finished speaking.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Helen. ‘We’ve moved Elaine, but we need to get back to her now.’

  Xavier nodded and turned his head back towards Parsol, he leaned forward close to his ear. ‘You are finished here, there is nothing for you. You have lost,’ Xavier spoke quietly, almost hissing the words. Then he leant even closer so Parsol could feel his breath against his neck. ‘Who are you? Why did you come? Where did you come from?’

  Parsol turned his head just enough so their eyes could meet. Xavier almost recoiled as he saw a cold and dispassionate blackness in Parsol’s eyes, but forced himself to stand and hold the man’s gaze.

  ‘You don’t need answers to your questions, priest. All you need to know is I never lose. Remember, I never lose,’ said Parsol. His calm voice carried a heavy threat that seemed completely incongruous as he had a pistol stuck in his back and was about to step out into the arms of the law.

  ‘Well, I will just have to live without your answers. Time for you to go now, time to meet justice. Time to meet the police, I think,’ said Xavier. Pressing pistol muzzles forced Parsol and Cassiter out through the doorway, then Angelo slammed the door shut, locking it with the key Xavier had received from the team he had recently sent to test the church’s security. They had not been impressed with the locks but had given them a good clean and oil.

  Xavier turned to Helen. ‘Now, you know this place. Is there a way out for us? That would be good for Angelo and me. May be good for all of us, yes? I don’t think we would be able to explain that little thing away,’ he said, nodding towards Angelo’s neat little silver pistol as it disappeared into the young priest’s jacket.

  Helen nodded. ‘Grace has a way. Let’s go,’ she said.

  • • •

  The helicopter was now out of sight as it continued its sweep of the area. Cassiter gripped Parsol’s arm, pulling him along the side of the church away from the main entrance and back to the
rear, towards the cemetery. ‘Come on,’ said Cassiter, ‘we have a minute, maybe less before the police move in and are swarming all over this place.’

  Parsol followed his lead. Under the circumstances content to trust the local man, particularly as that man was Cassiter. ‘Can we get away?’ said Parsol as they hurried round the corner of the church, heading for the little rear gate that led directly into the cemetery. Ahead they could see the helicopter moving away from them as it continued its sweep.

  ‘You don’t think I would have put all my faith in your two numbskull bodyguards do you?’ said Cassiter, still holding Parsol’s arm and hurrying him along. ‘I’m free because I always have a contingency plan.’

  As Cassiter fished in his pocket for a phone, Parsol stumbled against the cemetery gate, dragging them both down, the contents of Cassiter’s pocket emptied out. ‘Be careful man, damn it, you’ll get us both caught,’ snapped Cassiter as he scrambled to retrieve the phone, it was unbroken. Straightening up they pushed on into the cemetery, Cassiter pressed speed dial as they ran.

  Cassiter’s phone rang out once. It was answered immediately. He spoke calmly into the handset. ‘Action. Action now,’ then he hung up and continued the retreat.

  Unnoticed in all the turmoil, Fiona Sharp sat in her car. It was parked just over the wall at the northern end of the cemetery, well beyond the police cordon. She held a little signal control box in her hand. To the left side of the box was a master power switch; strung out in line to the right were five little press button firing switches. Above each switch were sets of LEDs: red, amber, green. She flicked on the master power switch and the LEDs above it started to shine. Amber for a moment then flashed red before settling to a steady green, confirming the device was ready for transmission. The five sets of LEDs to the right were flashing red, amber and green simultaneously. As the transmission sequences readied, the lights one by one switched to amber and finally all glowed a steady green. The device was armed.

  With her thumb, she pressed the first firing switch. The LED above it started to flash red as a short-range signal beamed out and activated the first of the packages that a scruffy looking hoodied skateboarder had concealed inside the cemetery’s northern wall earlier in the morning. The packages sat roughly spread out along the wall, waiting. For a moment nothing happened, then with a flash and roar several military issue Thunderflashes exploded. She pressed the second firing switch and a flash of light and billowing cloud of smoke supplemented the first blast.

  Mirror, indicate, manoeuvre. She pulled smoothly away from the curb and pressed the third switch. Behind her, the road disappeared in a fog of smoke billowing over the cemetery wall. As the roar of the blast subsided, she drove calmly away into the city traffic, pressing the final two switches. More and more smoke billowed out filling the northern part of the cemetery. The police helicopter spun to focus on it, occasional flashes could be seen from inside the swirling opaque mass, possible gunfire?

  Parsol and Cassiter continued their hurried move south, to some extent sheltered from above by the partial canopy of tree cover as they wove a route between the gravestones. Behind them, the police teams were pouring into the cemetery from the main gate. Most headed for the smoke and explosions, some headed towards the church. Others started to fan out and search methodically between the graves while keeping a wary eye on the swirling inferno of smoke and explosions. A police team spotted Parsol and Cassiter just as they slipped through the pedestrian access gate near the south-western corner of the cemetery; the little-used wrought iron gate that Cassiter had used on the day he killed John Dearly.

  The pair emerged into the road. A scruffy young hoodie who had been sitting quietly on the pavement adjusting the wheels of his skateboard stood up. Without acknowledging them, he threaded a chain through the gates, and then padlocked it shut. Long before the pursuing police arrived, the hooded skateboarder had vanished, a freewheeling citizen skating into anonymity.

  Police radios crackled in frustration. Trapped behind the locked gate, the officers could see nobody in the road beyond. Was it a false sighting? Meanwhile, Barnett drove off, his anonymous white works van pulling calmly away from the cemetery, on through the streets, blending into the traffic and away from the scene.

  • • •

  The sound of explosions outside the church hurried Helen back along the corridor into the vestry, close behind her came Xavier then Angelo. She was surprised to find Grace had returned from the tunnel and was busy scooping the communion set back into its carry case.

  ‘An excellent idea, Grace,’ said Xavier. ‘Let’s leave it looking like a robbery gone wrong, a falling out amongst thieves. Quick now, grab the papers and other things from the safe too.’ He pointed at the rug spattered with Elaine’s blood and the now broken chair she’d been tied to. ‘Angelo, roll all that up and bring the bindings too.’ Xavier beamed a slightly incongruous smile towards Helen. ‘The two we let go are not the talking type. Professionals. They will say nothing to the police. So, if possible, we don’t want to leave anything concrete to place Elaine or any of you in this mess.’

  As Xavier stepped closer to Helen, he carefully wiped his prints off the pistol Parsol had used to kill the guards, and then tossed it down onto the ground. ‘Now, you said we have a way out. Perhaps this is the moment to leave?’ His suggestion was underscored by the sound of running boots passing outside the vestry window, a door handle rattling in vain against its lock, then vigorous kicking on the old wooden door.

  Helen nodded. ‘Come on, we’ll make it if we’re quick.’ She grabbed Elaine’s coat from behind the door as they rushed out into the nave and filed up the steps into the pulpit. One by one, they slipped down into the space below.

  An echoing crack came from the front of the church. It was followed by the sound of cautious boot steps spreading out slowly through the nave. They were out of time; the police were in. Grace crouched low on the pulpit steps, keeping her head beneath the rim of the pulpit banister as she urged the others down into the tunnel. Only she knew how to close the pulpit entrance, she needed to be last.

  Another crash, this one from the direction of the vestry. The police had now broken open the old wooden door; they were coming from two directions. As the first policeman emerged from the vestry Grace disappeared from view, slithering headfirst down into the space beneath the pulpit, where Helen caught and helped steady her. Grace finally clicked the floor of the pulpit shut as an armed policeman cautiously led his squad around the base of the pulpit. A moment later, the slightest of clicks signalled the sliding shut of the stone doorway into the tunnel stair. For just a second the policeman paused, thinking he heard a sound, but then dismissed it as he and the team continued their search of the church.

  At the foot of the stairway, Grace triggered the closing mechanism and the tunnel door slid shut. They were all sealed in. Once Grace had checked on her mother, she pointed in the direction that she and Helen had come from just a little while before. ‘This will take us to the manse,’ she said. They set off, Grace leading, then Angelo supporting Elaine, Xavier following them and Helen bringing up the rear.

  For a little while nobody spoke. Xavier was inspecting the construction work as they passed along. He was visibly impressed, from time to time allowing his hand to stroke the clean, dry stone of the walls and then scuff his feet against the still sharp edges of the slabs beneath their feet. These were stones perfectly assembled by real masters of the construction trades, built to last a lifetime. Many lifetimes.

  ‘Helen, this is a great surprise. In all my years of visiting here I had no idea such a thing existed,’ said Xavier.

  ‘Me neither. Join the club,’ said Helen.

  ‘It is magnificent. The stonework, so good, so powerful, so…’ he allowed his eyes to stretch out ahead to where the tunnel vanished in a gentle bend. ‘So consistent.’ He turned to look over his shoulder at her. ‘I know John did not like spending money but clearly his predecessors were happy to.’

&
nbsp; ‘I guess so,’ said Helen. They lapsed into silence, their footsteps punctuated only by the sound of Elaine’s quiet, rhythmic groans as she leant on Angelo step by step.

  In the quiet, Helen considered the tunnel properly for the first time, its origins and purpose. A tingle of surprise, or perhaps it was excitement, was bubbling inside her. It was competing with the remorse, guilt even, which she felt over what had taken place behind them at the church and for her own part in the violent struggle.

  Helen wondered what exactly John Dearly had passed to her: the mysterious trust fund, the tunnel, Xavier and Angelo, and to say nothing of the missing parish dagger that everyone seemed to want so desperately and whose location nobody knew. But no - her thoughts froze - Grace knew where it was. It took a mighty effort not to shout out to Grace and demand an immediate answer, but she made herself wait a little longer.

  The distance from church to manse was only a few hundred yards, but they were pacing themselves for the slowest, and it was all Elaine could do to shuffle along. Eventually, Grace called a halt. Then she did her now familiar foot spread and ankle wriggle to reopen the stairway up to the manse and to safety.

  CHAPTER 25 - WEDNESDAY 19th JUNE - PM

  With only a domestic first aid kit available in the manse, there was nothing Helen could do for Elaine’s broken hand except carefully guide the arm into a supporting sling. She cleaned up Elaine’s face as best she could and tried to sound positive for the groggy patient. However, in addition to the hand she could see both cheeks were broken, along with a broken nose. The jaw had to be fractured too and there was a lot of dental work to be done, to say nothing of the deep shock that was setting in.

  Elaine urgently needed hospital treatment, but they were loath to phone for help. A call from the manse for an ambulance would attract immediate attention. It would be like firing a distress rocket, calling in all the emergency services that were massed just up the road at the church.