The Dark Temple

by The Dark Temple (retail) (epub)

  ‘This night your dedication is rewarded and you will become far more than you were,’ he proclaimed. ‘Now find your equals.’

  They don’t hang around, Harker concluded as all the hooded individuals now began moving about one another, checking each other’s sleeves and, as he stood there bewildered as to what he had now stumbled into, he noticed a symbol embroidered onto the left arm of his robe in yellow cotton. It was a simple V, the Roman numeral for the number five and he watched as pairs of attendees with identical numbers began to link arms with one another – until everyone there had a partner except himself. It was at this point Harker felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

  He whirled around to face a robed figure holding up his right arm, which also had the ‘V’ symbol sewn into the sleeve. Even through the hood made identification impossible, it was obvious by the size of the figure’s hands that this was a male.

  The man slipped his arm under Harker’s and began to lead him over towards the others, who were already lining up in a series of two rows of ten people in each. Even though every fibre of his being was telling him to run for it, Harker remained compliant as his partner pulled him into position at the end of the first row.

  ‘Now each of you address your brother, and administer the bonds of strength,’ ordered Ming the Merciless, with that same smile still resolutely emblazoned on his face. ‘For through this act you may step into a new realm and let light shine over you for all eternity.’

  Harker’s new-found ‘brother’ took him by the hand and with his own other hand produced a thin strip of tanned leather string which he proceeded to wrap around both their wrists, as the other robed figures all did likewise.

  To say that Harker felt uncomfortable at this moment would have been a mammoth understatement and as the bald-headed cartoon-strip lookalike began to speak again, he found himself desperately trying to figure out what the hell was going on. The hoods, the fire, the ancient setting… it was all reminiscent of pagan worship, maybe even Devil worship, but it wasn’t a ritual he was familiar with – or wanted to be familiar with, for that matter.

  ‘Now pray with me, brothers.’ Ming continued, whereupon all the hoods lowered their heads to the ground as he began mumbling something unintelligible with his eyes closed.

  This mumbling lasted for well over a minute and all the while Harker kept his head bowed along with all the others, until finally Ming looked up and gazed out upon them all, then spoke aloud once more.

  ‘It is below the glowing stars that you enter a new stage of your existence and, by the power God has placed in me, I now pronounce you joined in union and forever more in holy matrimony.’

  ‘What!’ Harker exclaimed loudly enough that every hood in both rows instantly turned their attention towards him. But if Ming had heard anything, he didn’t show it, and instead wrapped up the ceremony as quickly as it had begun.

  ‘Congratulations, my nymphs. Go forth and rejoice now until next we meet.’

  Harker was still reeling from the implications of what was just said as all the hoods – without saying a word and including his ‘partner’ – went off into the dark bowels of the baths’ ruins leaving him on his own in a state of complete and utter bewilderment. What the hell just happened? he wondered.

  Then, after a few seconds of stunned silence, a voice called out to him. ‘It is finished.’

  Harker turned around to see the same little fellow who had met him at the entrance.

  ‘May I have the robe please.’ Then without pause, he made his way around behind him and gently tugged the garment off him before folding it neatly. ‘Please now follow me.’ And Harker was led out through the entrance and back onto the path beyond, still lined with flickering torches. ‘Have a pleasant evening,’ he said, with a courteous bow, then headed back amid the shadowy ruins until he was out of sight.

  Harker’s head was spinning and he stood motionless in a confused daze, feeling like he’d just been mugged even though nothing was taken. It was clearly a ritual but unlike anything he had ever seen or even heard of.

  ‘Professor.’

  Harker spun around to see Detective Russo making his way up the pathway towards him and looking highly suspicious. ‘That was quick,’ he pointed out, looking surprised. ‘I saw people leaving by car out the front, so I flashed my badge and came in here to find you. Are you OK? What happened?’

  Harker still felt shell-shocked as he ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a long deep breath. ‘I’m not sure exactly,’ he glanced back at the ruins in confusion. ‘But I think I just got married.’

  Russo stared at him blankly. ‘Uhh, congratulations?’ He followed this up with an uncertain smile.

  ‘Thanks,’ Harker said doubtfully, ‘but I think it was to another bloke!’

  Chapter 9

  ‘What kind of question is that?’ Stefani yelled, forcing Harker hold the iPhone away from his ear with a wince.

  ‘A reasonable question,’ he explained, as Russo rode the curb momentarily while just missing a pedestrian by inches, ‘considering what we found in his apartment.’

  The line went quiet and, after a few seconds, Harker began to answer his own question. ‘Stefani, I know that whatever’s happening here is not your fault, but since arriving in Rome I’ve discovered the only resident in your father’s apartment was the head of a decapitated bull, then I myself was almost drowned by a man who an hour ago was found chopped up into pieces in the back of a police van…’ Harker glanced over at Russo who was still looking frankly relieved at the news that his cousin had not been hurt during the incident. ‘And I just became a male bride.’

  Harker let his last words hang in the air for a moment and then, with continued silence from Stefani he repeated the question. ‘So all I’m asking is, are you sure your father was a priest? And how well do you know him? What age were you adopted at? I left the UK with that part still being pretty sketchy.’

  As Harker waited for an answer – any answer – Russo swerved again sharply, just missing an old man with a carrier bag carrier of shopping, who flicked the bird sign as they flew by. For a trained officer of the law, Russo was a bloody awful driver.

  ‘Take it easy, Detective.’ Harker scowled with one hand covering the mobile’s receiver. ‘I’d like to get there in one piece!’

  Russo shot him a dirty glance of the type that said, ‘If you don’t like it then get out and walk.’ He had seemed on edge ever since receiving a call informing him his cousin Benito Romano had been found unconscious and that the butchered carcass of the teen suspect lay scattered in the back of Benito’s police van. The detective had since decided that his job acting as Harker’s guide was over, and the sooner he dropped him off at the airport and headed back to Police headquarters the better.

  ‘Can you hear me, Stefani?’ Harker almost yelled.

  ‘I can hear you Alex,’ Stefani replied calmly, ‘I’ve known him all my life and for the record I was adopted by him from an orphanage in Venice, as a baby. How do you think I got initiated into the Order of the Templars in the first place? You don’t just apply.’

  Up until that moment Harker had not even considered that Father Davies might have been a Templar, and now all these bizarre events seemed even stranger. ‘He was actually a Templar?’

  ‘Yes, since birth.’ She sounded angry at his questioning but he ignored it.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?’

  ‘My father was recently shot at by the police after committing two horrific murders, Alex. Forgive me for leaving out some of my detailed family history.’

  She was sounding increasingly furious and it was now that Harker decided to subdue his tone. ‘Well, it makes sense that you’d want to keep all this below the Templars’ radar – at least for the time being.’ It was one thing for a family member to be involved in something so heinous, but an actual member of the Knights Templar – that was far more complicated and potentially damaging. ‘Does anything I’ve just told you make any s
ense? I’m trying to make a connection here. Was there something he might have been involved in that was Templar-related?’

  There was another short silence and Harker was about to begin demanding why the hell she was dragging him into all this without briefing him fully, when Stefani came back on the line in a far more measured tone.

  ‘My father was one of only a handful of Templars who actively serve as a member of the Catholic Church. His position was what we call a “guardian”: a Templar who participates wholly in his role as a Catholic priest but watches over the Church as a protector. He was never involved in anything other than that, and certainly not in the type of things you’re speaking of.’

  Harker had never heard the term ‘guardian’ before but it made sense that the Templars would have such a position. ‘OK, if we put aside for one moment the supernatural elements surrounding his demise,’ – and that was a pretty big if, Harker thought – ‘could he have become embroiled in something while carrying out his guardian’s duties?’

  ‘Yes, it’s possible,’ Stefani replied, now sounding more collected in her thoughts, ‘though he would have contacted us with any information that suggested even the slightest threat to the Catholic Church. But…’

  There was a pause and Harker leapt upon it immediately. ‘But what?’

  ‘After you left, I did some checking into my father’s phone records, and for the two days prior to his death he made a number of calls to a certain address in Greece. In fact it was the last number my father called before attending the, uh… the, exorcism.’

  Harker could understand her hesitation, given what had happened, and considering the occult nature of such events he would have been twitchy on the subject himself. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘The curator at the Acropolis Museum in Athens.’

  ‘OK, I’ll take the jet there right now.’ Harker replied without hesitation, but Stefani was already interrupting his generous offer to intervene.

  ‘No, Alex, you’ve already done enough. I was just booking a flight there myself when you called.’

  ‘Why? Use a Templar jet – it’ll be a lot quicker.’

  ‘I’d love to, but you yourself are using the only jet we could spare… without drawing any further attention. And, until I find out more, I still want to keep this between us.’

  It seemed bordering on insanity not to get the rest of the Templar organisation behind them at this point, even if Harker understood her motives. What had set this whole thing in motion was unsettling enough but the whole business was getting stranger by the moment. ‘I’ll meet you there, then. We can look into this together.’

  ‘I appreciate it, Alex, but if Sebastian Brulet knew I had already put you in harm’s way – and not informed them – he would be unhappy to put it mildly.’

  ‘No,’ Harker insisted, determined now to see this through to the end. ‘And, anyway, they would have to reveal everything to the Templars eventually.’ It’s like you said, Stefani, I’m the official Jarl to the Templars, and so it’s my duty. I’ll see you at the museum itself.’

  The ensuing pause seemed to go on for ages, then finally she came back on the line. ‘Thank you, Alex. I’ll let you know what time I’m due to arrive, and where we can meet up. After that, whether this leads to a dead end or not, I promise we’ll bring everyone in on it.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Harker agreed, glad to know that, whatever results the trip yielded, he would once again have the full force of the Templars at his back. ‘See you soon.’

  The line went dead and, just as Harker began tapping another number into his mobile, Russo gave him a heavy slap on his shoulder.

  ‘Well, what did she say?’

  ‘Would you just focus on the road,’ Harker demanded while pointing in front of them, as Russo just managed to miss the traffic warden placing a yellow ticket on the windscreen of a rusty old green Citroen.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Russo replied dismissively, continuing to accelerate along the narrow city thoroughfare in the direction of the airport, ‘he would never be missed.’

  Russo was now smiling and, although still glancing between Harker and the tight road ahead, at least he now had both hands on the steering wheel. ‘It looks like you’re in luck, Detective. You are about to get shot of me.’

  ‘Get shot of you?’ Russo was looking offended. ‘I never had any intention of shooting you!’

  ‘I mean you’re about to get rid of me. Just get me to the airport and your chaperoning is over.’

  If such reassurance was meant to settle the man it most certainly did not, and Russo instead looked insulted. ‘I’m happy to take you wherever you need to go. That’s not the issue. You just chose one hell of a day to do it, that’s all. Murder attempt on a cop, dead suspect, cousin knocked unconscious – it’s been a bad day.’

  Harker had already returned his attention back to the phone and the number he was dialling. ‘And it’s all much appreciated, but shortly I will be one less thing you have to worry about.’

  Russo managed a gruff snort and focused back on his driving as Harker waited for his call to be answered.

  ‘David, it’s Alex. I need your help. Where are you?’

  David Carter’s husky voice growled back over the receiver, sounding less concerned than annoyed. ‘Where the hell have you been? You really pissed off Doggie, you know, taking his car keys. Poor old boy had a dinner appointment in London which he missed, thanks to you. He’s not a happy bunny.’

  ‘He’ll survive, David…’

  Before Harker could finish his sentence, Carter was already laughing out loud. ‘It’s been very funny actually. He was really getting his knickers in a twist on the trip back, whingeing and whining. Highly amusing.’

  ‘Trip? Where are you?’ Harker asked, having assumed they were still in the UK.

  ‘We’re back at the vault in Mont St-Michel. Doggie is with me. I think that, after being left high and dry, he wanted to feel important so he came along too. I was going to butter him up at first – you know, at least get him smiling – but then I thought what the hell so… you know how much he detests sugar? Well, when he wasn’t looking I dumped four spoonfuls in his coffee. I think he has a cold because the fool almost finished it before noticing. He went absolutely ballistic. He is such a drama queen.’

  ‘He’s a diabetic, David!’ Harker yelled.

  ‘He’s fine,’ Carter replied casually. ‘True, he was a bit twitchy at first and he did go a light shade of yellow but, like I said he’s fine… now.’

  Maybe because Carter himself had spent so many years not looking after himself and experiencing what could have been described by many as slow suicide through the use of alcohol, the man had developed a complete lack of sympathy for other people with issues or problems. Akin to a reformed smoker who then turns into a pain-in-the-arse advocate of all things pure, it was like he had personally reeled himself back from the edge of despair – and death – in his own life and so this badge of distinction, of bettering himself, somehow put him on a higher plain. Especially when it came to Doggie.

  ‘OK,’ Harker groused, not wanting to get into a shouting match. ‘I need you to do some checking for me on satanic cults. I’m going to send you over a list and, from your own knowledge, or using Google, I need you to check if there are any specific references to them recorded in the Templar vaults.’

  ‘Absolutely. But why, what’s going on?’

  ‘I’m not sure. In fact I have no idea.’

  ‘No change there, Alex, but at least you’re consistent.’

  Carter sounded in an even more spritely mood than usual; perhaps he was enjoying a sugar rush of his own.

  ‘Take a look at the list I’m sending and see if you can make any connections, any at all. No matter how much of a stretch.’

  ‘Send it over and I’ll take a look,’ Carter replied, suddenly sounding more professional. ‘If there’s a connection, I’ll find it.’

  ‘Good and thanks. I’ll be in touch,’ Up ahead Harker c
ould make out the entrance to Rome International airport which Russo was speeding ever faster towards. ‘Oh and, David, don’t give him any more sugar… please.’

  Chapter 10

  ‘There was no need to kill the boy, Michael,’ the red-haired man exclaimed scathingly, slamming his fist down on the table. ‘He’d done everything that was asked of him, and you know it.’

  Michael Donitz sat seemingly unperturbed as he brushed a speck of black fluff from his white Charles Tyrwhitt dress shirt and then examined his fingernails. ‘What I know, Marco, is that the young lad had a simple job not to get caught, and he managed to screw it up completely.’

  In his late thirties and solidly built but of short stature, Marco Lombardi looked like he belonged more in a boxing ring rather than as a partner in a law firm, what with a crooked nose and a thick horizontal scar underneath his right eye. ‘The boy was trained for this kind of situation, and we could have got him out safely if we had wanted to.’

  Donitz wagged a finger from his seat across the table. ‘It wasn’t my choice, Marco, but had it been mine to make, I would have made the same call. Such complications are like threads and it only takes some nosy official to pull one hard enough to put us all in danger.’

  Donitz’s analogy did little to quash the younger man’s anger. ‘If wasn’t you, then who?’

  ‘Who do you think!’

  Lombardi’s eyes began to widen anxiously. ‘I didn’t think he was getting involved at this early stage.’

  Donitz now looked astonished. ‘Not get involved? It’s all by his design, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘No, I just thought—’

  ‘You thought nothing. You never do, Marco; that’s always been your problem.’

  Donitz got up from his chair, paced over to the large single window and stared out onto the sprawling city below. ‘Everything we have done, everything we have given up, everything we possess, including this legal firm, is because of him and our oath, and you’re now having issues over one teenage boy. What the hell is the matter with you?’ He remained at the window but turned his head to one side. ‘I do wonder, Marco, is your commitment waning?’