by Rowan Casey
“Looks like it would have been a pretty special place to hide once up a time.”
Rather than roughly hewn stone, or even brick that had been weathered by the elements, the walls were made of a dressed stone. A sandstone seat was cut into the wall, and there were the remains of a stone table.
“Quite something, isn’t it? The last time anyone hid here was during the first World War. Three German officers who had escaped from a prison camp waited here to be picked up by a submarine. They were found and arrested before they could be picked up though.”
“And St. Tudno created this?” Matthias asked, but his mind was only half-waiting for the response. He was looking around the space in the hope of finding anything that might provide a connection to the Whetstone. He still did not believe that he was going to find anything, but he had been paid to do a job and was going to do what he could to carry it out, no matter if he returned empty-handed. But if Rhys had brought people down here to look for it before, including his own girlfriend, then if there was anything there to be found it would have been discovered.
“This was done later, but no one really knows who did it. There’s a story that this was home to the Knights Hospitallers.”
The name meant little to Matthias. He was sure that he had heard the name before but he had no idea where or when, and more importantly, he had no idea what it meant. “They something like the Knights Templar?”
“Similar. Both orders were created around the time of the crusades. The Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem. You know St. John’s Ambulance, right? First aid at sporting events, that kind of thing?”
“Sure.”
“They came out of the order at some point, just don’t ask me when. The Order of St. John left plenty of reminders of their presence here in Wales, not just this place. They built plenty of churches that are still standing.”
“But what about St. Tudno? Any evidence of him being here?” Any stones lying around? Was what he really wanted to ask.
“I’ve never found anything that could be linked to him with absolute certainty, but this was still worth taking a look at, don’t you think? Take your time. There’s a lamp on your helmet. We’ll wait for you as long as you like.”
He felt the girl’s gaze on him as he made his way slowly around the octagonal room, her headlamp following him and alternatingly provided extra light or cast his shadow against the wall but she remained silent. Somehow he hoped that he would be able to see something; anything. If there was anything that even indicated that there had once been a stone here that had been taken away, it would prove something. The absence of evidence did not prove that it did not exist. There was something about this place that said that maybe he wasn’t on a wild goose chase, or maybe he had just bought into the nonsense that Hautdesert and Dante Grimm had fed him.
“Of course, you know that the picture of St. Tudno holding the Whetstone is a fairly new one,” Rhys said.
“So the vicar said.” Matthias shielded his eyes from the other man’s light.
“No one knows what the Whetstone really looked like, even assuming that it actually existed. If you really are looking for it, you’re going to have to keep your mind open.”
“Doesn’t really help.” Matthias rose from a crouch, glad to be upright again.
“Sorry,” Rhys shrugged. “But I guess we’re done here.”
9
The climb back to the top was less nerve wracking than the descent had been, but Matthias was still glad to be back at the top of the cliff and stepping out of the overalls.
“What do I owe you?” Matthias handed Megan the helmet. She was already inside the back of the van stowing each piece of equipment away into its allotted place and accepted it without a word.
“Owe me?” Rhys said.
“For the guided tour.”
“Nah, you’re alright. Always fun to see a grown man terrified.”
“It was all an act,” Matthias said, the grin on his face growing wider. He wondered how convincing it was.
“So where next on your search for the mythical stone?”
“That’s it, I guess if I’ve hit a brick wall, or maybe a stone one at least there’s definitely no trace of it here. Even if it existed, where would it have been taken?”
“Megan thinks it might have been taken to London.”
At the mention of her name, as if she was being summoned, Megan climbed out of the van, the last of the equipment stowed away.
“What makes you think that?” Matthias asked the girl. She still seemed reluctant to make eye contact, but at least she answered.
“The Knights Hospitallers. If there was a stone in there, and I believe there was, then anyone could have taken it. The only people we know that used that place apart from St. Tudno were them.”
“But anyone could have taken it.”
“Sure, but no one knows anything about them. The Hospitallers are the only ones who left any kind of trail.”
“She thinks that if they took it, they would have treated it like a religious relic,” Rhys said.
“And taken it to London?”
“Or Malta, or Rhodes, or Jerusalem, or any one of another dozen places. They were established all over the Mediterranean,”
Helpful,” Matthias said. “Nothing like narrowing the search down.”
Rhys shrugged. “If it was easy, someone would have found it by now.”
“If it exists, of course.”
“Well, that has to be your call, doesn’t it? If you decide that it doesn’t exist, or even that it no longer exists if it did in the first place, you can just go home and forget all about it.”
But that was a question of belief, a matter of faith, and Matthias wasn’t sure if he believed strongly enough in it anyway to be able to report back to Hautdesert that a he had done everything he possibly could. There was still that tiny nagging doubt that things were possible.
“So, why London if there are so many places where it could be?”
Megan shrugged. “Why would they take it out of the country? If they moved it to keep it safe, do you think they would take it on a long journey?”
“London seems far enough away if you ask me. If you want to hide something there must be places closer to home.”
Matthias wasn’t sure how much sense it made. It was a theory but it was no more than that, and there was no way that he was about to drive all the way there in the hope that he could find a place connected with the Hospitallers in a city that large without knowing exactly where he was going and whether he was likely to find anything there.
It was enough to silence the girl, as if questioning her reasoning had shattered what little confidence she had. She was fast retreating back into her shell.
“The headquarters of what remains of the order in the UK are in London,” Rhys said. “I’m sure I could find you the address if you’d like me to.”
“That’s okay,” Matthias said, producing his mobile phone. “I’m sure I’ll be able to track them down. I might just give them a call to find out if they have a stone lying around that might be what I’m looking for. I wouldn’t want to make another wasted trip now, would I?” He gave a laugh to show that he wasn’t taking the possibility too seriously.
“You think they’ll tell you the truth?” Megan blurted out. “Of course they won’t. They won’t want you to have it, they won’t want anyone to even know that they have it.” The girl was becoming agitated, her eyes glassy with tears. Matthias had no idea what might have caused that, but it left him silenced for a moment.
Rhys reached an arm around her and gave a false, forced smile. “She gets worked up about some stuff, don’t you, cariad?”
It was the first term of endearment Matthias had heard the man say to the girl, let alone one in welsh. Until that point it would have been easy to think that they were no more than friends. The girl was strange, but perhaps that was what Rhys found attractive in her.
“Problem with officialdom?”
“No, I have a problem with secrets,” the girl snapped. “A problem with people who hide stuff away. People who take stuff that maybe doesn’t even really belong to them and hide it away from the world. Things that should be available for everyone.”
“So you’re convinced that this thing exists? You have absolutely no doubt?”
“Of course it exists.”
“Have you looked for it? Have you been to London and tried to find it yourself?”
“He won’t let me.” She gave a glance in Rhys’ direction, but there was no anger there, no resentment.
“You know I’d never stop you from going.” Rhys said, his grip a little tighter.
“But you won’t come with me, and you know I couldn’t do it on my own.” Her voice was a little quieter, almost intimate, as if reminding him of something she shouldn’t need to say aloud.
“Well, thanks for showing me the cave,” Matthias said, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. He was in danger of getting caught up in something personal that had nothing to do with him. He would have gladly walked back to the guest house to pick up his car and his overnight bag if he could have been sure of finding his way, but instead he stood in silence as Rhys ushered the girl back into the van.
“I’ll just drop you back now if that’s okay?” Rhys said. “Might be for the best.”
“That would be great, thanks.”
The drive back into town was silent apart from Rhys’ occasional curses at other drivers. The mood had changed completely, as if an old wound had been picked at and reopened. Matthias had known enough of those in his own life and had no desire to witness anyone else getting caught up in the same. Getting involved rarely ended well and there was not going to be anything he could say or do that was likely to make things any better. It was better to allow the silence to take control.
10
“Mr. Matthias,” said the voice on the other end of the line. “Good to hear from you.”
The moment Matthias has pressed the button to make the call he realized that he had no idea of whether Hautdesert was still in the country or if he had already returned to the States. His brain was still trying to calculate the time difference when the man answered, and at least he didn’t sound as if he had been woken from a deep sleep.
“Do you have news for me already?”
“Not really.” Matthias related the story of his trip, suddenly remembering the strange man he had encountered in the pub but decided against mentioning it. Part of him was convinced that his mind had been playing tricks on him, while another part said that it had been Hautdesert, or more likely Grimm’s doing. Mentioning it would only confirm that they had been able to get inside his head and he already felt like he was being made a fool of. There was no point in making things any worse.
“So, a dead end you think?”
He was at the point of saying that it was; that it had been a complete waste of time, but he thought better of it. There had been something in the way that the girl had been so convinced that the stone existed and that it had been removed by the Knights Hospitallers. He told Hautdesert about his trip to the cave.
“She’s got it into her head that they might have taken it to London. I was thinking about trying to find a number to see if they’ve got any kind of museum of their artefacts.”
“The Order of St. John?”
“Sounds like you know more about them than I did when their name was mentioned to me.”
“Let us just say that I have crossed paths with members of that particular order in the past.”
“You don’t sound surprised about their connection.”
“It’s not just the Templars who have cast their web far and wide. But somehow I doubt that a phone call is likely to get you very far. Leave it with me for an hour and I’ll get back to you.”
“You’ve got an idea?”
“Perhaps. But if I can only find a dead end I will let you know and your mission will be at an end.”
He hung up without a farewell, leaving Matthias holding a silent phone to his ear, and feeling that he had been left in limbo. He was pretty sure that there was nothing else to learn in this part of the world, and while he could prepare to leave, he had no idea where he might be told to go to next. He was hoping that he would be told that it was all over and that he could head back to Cardiff and hang onto the rest of the cash. He had the feeling that it wasn’t going to be as simple as that. He packed his overnight bag and was drinking the coffee that Rhys’ aunt had forced upon him by the time his phone rang. She certainly didn’t seem to be in any hurry to see him leave.
“It seems your friend may have been correct about the Hospitallers having taken the stone,” Hautdesert said.
Matthias was stunned by the news. How the man had been able to get that information so quickly left him lost for words, but Hautdesert left a moment of silence, as if for effect.
“But it is perhaps just as well that you did not head straight to London in the hope of discovering its whereabouts.”
“You know where it is?”
“Sadly not, but at least I have been able to discover where it was taken to when it left the cave.”
“I’m all ears.”
“The stone was taken for safe keeping to Winchester.”
“Winchester? Why the hell there?”
“The stone was taken to Winchester Cathedral, that’s all I know. I can only assume that there was some connection with the Order of St. John, but I have no idea what that might have been. Unfortunately, I have no connections with either the cathedral, or the city.”
“So, you want me to pay a visit?”
“You are the only one I can ask. Mr. Grimm has authorized me to cover any additional costs you may incur. Now that he is convinced that there is a trail to follow he has also agreed to an additional finder’s fee if you are able to locate it.”
“I like the sound of that,” Matthias said. “As long as it’s more than the drink I was promised the first time our paths crossed.”
“How does a ten-thousand-pound bonus sound? All you need to do is find its location. Double that if you can get it to an international airport.”
“Steal it you mean?”
“I prefer the word ‘liberate’. The stone does not belong to anyone.”
“And yet Grimm wants it for himself. I’d still call that theft.”
“Grimm is not looking for the stone for his personal pleasure.”
“Then what does he want it for? Is he doing it for the good of humanity? Is that it?”
“Mr. Matthias, you did not believe the evidence of your own eyes. You are hardly likely to be convinced by my words. Find the stone and perhaps then you will understand. Call me if you have any news.” He hung up, but this time Matthias was not caught by surprise by the lack of a goodbye.
Winchester. That was going to be an even longer drive than the journey from Cardiff had been. With a little luck he would be able to make it before nightfall. But only if he set off straight away.
11
His eyes were growing heavy long before he first saw a distance to Winchester listed on the motorway signs. He had only needed to make one stop so far and was hoping that he would be able to reach his destination before he needed to again. The packet of sandwiches and two bottles of water he had picked up at the service station had long since been eaten and the need to visit the bathroom was growing stronger with every mile. A sign declared that there was another service station just a couple of miles ahead. Just in time. He was tired of flicking through the radio stations, unable to find anything that did not quickly become irritating. He decided to drive in silence, with only the sound of traffic to keep him company.
The parking lot was almost full and it took a couple of minutes to find a place to park. He hurried from the car towards the service building, dodging out of the way of an impatient driver who was also having trouble finding a space. The woman behind the wheel glared at him bt he did not react. He was tired and hungry and ne
eded the bathroom; the last thing he needed was to get involved in a pointless argument which would resolve nothing. Instead he kept walking towards the building, determined not to be distracted.
A man emerged from the men’s restroom as he was entering, and held the door open to let him pass. Matthias uttered his thanks, giving the man the briefest of looks, but it was a moment later that he realized that he had seen the face before. It was the same man he had encountered in the pub in the Brecon Beacons. He was sure of it, yet he knew that was impossible. He almost turned and followed the man out, just to be sure, but stopped himself, knowing just how foolish that would be. It didn’t stop him scanning the faces when he emerged back out onto the concourse.
It shouldn’t have been difficult to spot the man given his size, but there was no immediate sign of him amongst the people who were milling around. Even as Matthias looked he wondered what he would say to the man if he found him. Would he confront him and ask who he was? What was the man doing following him? He was letting this get out of control. He was imaging things when there was nothing to be seen. He was tired and hungry, and his mind was playing tricks on him again. What he needed was coffee and lots of it.
The queue for the fancy coffee counter was into double figures as he started toward it, but even more had joined before he reached it. A quick glance showed that the fast food franchise was much quieter, and he grabbed two cups from them instead. The caffeine was more important than the taste of the coffee, and what they had to offer was good enough. The same went for the burger he bought to go with them. He found a table and tried to block out the chatter around him; it wasn’t proving easy and yet somehow he didn’t hear the chair next to him being scraped backwards until someone started to sit in it.
“Are you expecting company?”
It was the same man. There was absolutely no doubt and Matthias hadn’t even needed to track him down; he had come along to join him. The man nodded toward the second cup of coffee, but Matthias said nothing, not even when the man reached out and took it for himself.