The Gods' Gambit

by David Lee Marriner

“Yes, please. With milk.”

  Irina brought over the coffee and sat opposite James. He told her about his meetings with Stockton and Peter Oliver. “You understand that I and the superintendent met unofficially,” he added.

  “Don’t worry. In fact, I wanted to discuss the same topic with you … among other things.”

  “Peter told me you had troubles.”

  Irina waved her hand. “Some people tried to bitter my stay in this country. Unsuccessfully, though.”

  “If there’s something I can do … I’d be glad to help.”

  “Your testimony to the police already helped me. I’m more worried about you. You should be, too. You must be alert and take care of yourself,” she said insistently.

  James peered at her for a long moment. His smile was sad but his expression was stern. “I’ve finished hiding. They can’t do anything worse to me. It’s time to hit back.”

  “In any other case I’d tell you to leave it to the police. But now I’m not sure that’s the best advice. And I don’t think you’d listen anyway.”

  “You’re right. I’m not being a victim anymore.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “I’ll investigate. I’ve got some advantages over the police. I know what they know and I know things they don’t know, or don’t want to know. Furthermore, I’m not bound by their rules.”

  Irina gave him a meaningful look. “You must be ready to put aside your deepest feelings in the name of objectivity. If you want to get results.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I were you I’d dig into Miss Eden’s past. That may hurt. She was the first target of those people. And very likely the string that led them to you. I don’t advocate the assumption that she was engaged with radicals. Yet she might have run into something by chance. It’s even possible she was covering somebody else’s secret. You’ll need to question relatives and friends.”

  A light smile crossed James’ face. “All that wouldn’t stop me from seeking out the bastards. Although I don’t need to do any one of those things. There’s no point.”

  “That’s what I was talking about. It’s difficult to be objective in your situation.”

  “You see, sometimes personal involvement can be of great help. I can categorically neglect your objective approach. I know in advance where it would take me. In no way was Elizabeth connected to that kind of people. Neither did she hide any secret information.”

  Irina could not agree with him but she admired his trust in his loved one. “The police with all their resources haven’t advanced much in their attempts to identify this clandestine organization.”

  “The police waste effort looking in the wrong direction.”

  “You mentioned you knew something the police don’t know. And that’s what will lead you to these people.”

  “Yes.”

  “If you have valuable information, you have to share it with the police.”

  “They wouldn’t pay any attention to speculation and hunches. Especially if they come from a discredited – in their eyes – person like me.”

  “You’re probably right. However—”

  “I intend to share this information with you,” he interrupted. “I owe you.”

  “Appreciated.”

  “I believe we’ve run into something much bigger than we expected. Until now we’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg. Everything that those people do is part of a strategy formed way back in the past. Those people are not Islamist at all. They have access to huge financial resources…” James took Irina through Lino’s notes.

  She listened to the story with full attention. “In your opinion, what’s the common ground of the murders of Costov and Vebber and what happened to your fiancée and to you?” she asked when he had finished.

  “One thing is clear. All, including me, have been obstacles in their path. Why? Well, that’s what I’m determined to discover. I’ll find out when I meet them face to face,” James explained. He thought for a while and added, “Sooner or later I’ll find them. Or rather, they’ll come to me.”

  Irina was worried. “You think they haven’t given up chasing you?”

  “Yes. On my way here a car followed me. I’m sure it was them.”

  “You have to report this to the police. Ask for protection. Hire bodyguards. It would be best if you went away for some time,” Irina suggested.

  James shook his head. “You’re not listening to me. I’m not going to remain passive. I’m not relying on anybody to do the job but me.”

  Irina realized that her words had actually hurt him. “I’m sorry. I suppose you have a plan for action ready.”

  “I need to find out as much as possible about this cult first. I have a friend who knows more about them than anybody. I’m going to meet him.”

  “This is the man from whom you got all this information.”

  “Yes. He needs my support right now. I’m sure the cult has tried to silence him.”

  Irina rested against the back of her chair. Her expression was thoughtful and concentrated. “All this is serious and dangerous,” she said. “I don’t want to obtrude my advice. But it will be difficult to stand up against such a mighty organization on your own. You’ll need help. Luckily, I can offer you help.”

  James looked surprised, yet he did not respond.

  “I propose we unite our efforts,” said Irina. “We have the same goal. I want to shed light on their deeds – so do you. I want them to pay for their crimes – so do you.”

  “You said you were leaving.”

  “I’ll postpone it. It’ll be in the interest of the investigation.”

  “I couldn’t dream of a better partner than you. However, my motives are personal … mostly. If I have to play against the rules, I’ll do it – with no hesitation. You, on the other hand, are professionally bound by them.”

  “I won’t try to control you. You’re free to follow your heart. Me too. It’s quite probable I’ll fly home as soon as we’ve spoken with your friend—”

  James didn’t let her finish. “That’s what we can’t do. If I involve the police – I mean you – without his permission, it would be hard for him.”

  “I’ll not involve his name in any way without his prior consent. If he decides to become a witness against the cult, I’ll guarantee police protection for him,” Irina insisted.

  Her arguments were convincing. They made James change his decision. Apart from that, he owed her, as he had admitted. He also felt close to her. He had known her for only a few days, but the intensity of what they had gone through together had resulted in a closeness that usually only comes after years of friendship.

  “All right,” he said. “I intend to pay him a surprise visit in Italy. I could tell him about you when I meet him. It’ll be up to him from there on.”

  “Okay. We’ll fly together to Italy,” she said. “Due to the circumstances we must leave as quickly as possible.”

  James shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of acceptance. “As you wish. I’m going to visit Pema. Then I’ll go home to pack my suitcase and talk to Lao and Malee. All that will take about three hours.”

  “We’re taking on an anonymous, highly resourceful enemy,” said Irina, giving him a serious, almost harsh look. “We have to be very cautious. It’d be best if you didn’t mention to anybody the details of our trip.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” James agreed.

  “Did you speak on the phone with your Italian friend?”

  “Broadband.”

  Irina nodded approvingly.

  “I suggest we don’t waste time, then. Let’s find a plane tonight,” James continued.

  “Of course. I have news for you first. After Algeria I contacted the Interpol Bureau in Sofia. I asked them to search in every possible way for murders with even small similarities to those of Costov and Vebber. There was a positive result.”

  “Another murder?”

  “Several, actually. The data on most of them wa
s too poor, so I concentrated on just one. It happened in India eleven years ago.”

  “The cult has spread its roots everywhere,” James commented. “Is there any information about the victim?”

  “There were three victims. Their bodies were found in a forest half-eaten by wild animals. A swastika had been carved on the chest of one of the corpses. That part had been eaten on the other two bodies. It’s possible that they had also been marked in the same manner.” Irina lifted her hand, the index finger pointing upwards. “Now, listen. The corpse with the swastika had been stabbed in the chest. The police concluded it had been done with a spear.”

  “It could have been by a horn.”

  Irina nodded.

  “Any other similarities? I mean with Costov’s murder.”

  “The report of the Indian police is a bit brief. It does mention traces of signs on the ground, though, but doesn’t specify what kind of signs. The killers weren’t found. The hypothesis is that this was a killing done by an outlawed sect – rakshasa worshippers. The rakshasas are evil creatures from Hindu mythology as far as I know. Right?”

  “That is the popular depiction of those creatures. I’ve read about three types of rakshasa. The so-called yakshasas are rather good creatures, attendants of the gods. The second type is a kind of titan. The third type is truly evil: ugly black demons that eat human flesh. They were probably the ones mentioned.”

  “I suppose. The police report stated that this sect had been accused of cannibalism. It was mentioned because some of the wounds on the corpses resembled human bite marks.”

  James’ expression became sceptical. He was thoughtful for a moment. “Our MI5 people and Stockton won’t accept that the three cases are connected to one international organization. Because of these unclear facts and the time gap.”

  Irina looked as if she shared his conclusion completely. “My intuition tells me it was their doing. Unfortunately, there is one thing that supports the opposite thesis. The victims’ profiles are different. We have an eighty-four-year-old man from an unknown Indian village, a ten-year-old girl from another village, and a French youngster – a tourist. Nothing connects one with the others. They disappeared in different parts of India.”

  “Which one had the swastika?”

  “The child.”

  “It’s not somebody who had demonstrated intellectual capabilities like Costov or Vebber.”

  “Exactly.”

  James knitted his brow. “I see two possibilities,” he said. “One – the killings in India had nothing to do with the cult. Two – we’re mistaken to accept that there’s a common profile for all the cult’s victims.”

  “I bet on the second,” said Irina. “However, we should be careful now not to stray from the cult’s trace.”

  “You could pull strings and go to India, as we did with the Algerian case,” James suggested.

  Irina frowned. “You don’t know how much bureaucracy and politics is behind such a move. We were lucky with Algeria. It’s also possible such a trip will be a waste of time. If we find the answers we’re looking for from your friend.”

  Yes, Lino… He holds the short cut to the snake’s den, James thought. I hope I don’t make a muddle of your life, my friend.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Dorje Ling Monastery, Nepal

  The muted chanting and drumming of the three adepts had echoed continuously for three days. Sometimes all three could be heard; sometimes only one or two of them. But there had been no gaps in the melody. The adepts were performing a rite called the ‘Invocation of Buddhas and Spiritual Protectors of Dharma’. Normally, this rite was used in difficult times when Buddhist teaching was in decline or under persecution.

  Sitting on a bench next to the chapel where the ceremony was taking place, Nyma wondered why lama Tenzin had invited those three monks to make the Invocation. Dorje Ling monastery was not in decline. On the contrary, it had many sponsors and not long ago new buildings were added to it. By and large, Buddhist Vajrayana teaching was on the up. The number of its followers was growing all over the world; even in Tibet, the Chinese authorities had softened their attitude towards the religion.

  Nyma did not approve of the presence of the three monks, because they belonged to a different school that was famous for practising magic. People feared members of that school because of the powers they possessed. Nyma would have preferred to stay at a distance from them. But unfortunately this was not possible because lama Tenzin had given him the task of supplying the monks with food and water, as the chapel was situated about a kilometre from the main monastery complex. It was built at the very end of the plateau, close to the foothills of the mountains, on a piece of land ‘bought’ from the local spirits with special ceremonies and offerings. It was a single-roomed square building with a pointed roof covered with green wooden shingles. It had two windows and a double-winged door, which had been kept open since the Invocation rite started. Just inside the entrance on the left was an altar upon which stood a golden bust of Buddha Shakyamuny. The walls were covered with pictures of fearsome angry deities.

  The three monks sat on the floor, reciting the mantras of the sacred rite. Lama Tenzin, who had recently joined them, sat close to the altar. Without stopping the chanting, he waved to Nyma, signalling to him to sit outside and wait.

  Noon came and went. Hours flew away. Nyma began to sing with the monks and tap his feet in unison with the drumming. He had already memorized some of the mantras due to their unstoppable cyclic repetitions.

  It was late afternoon when lama Tenzin and one of the monks stopped chanting and came out of the chapel. Nyma jumped to his feet. The men walked slowly and he followed them.

  “Rinpoche, is there a hope?” asked lama Tenzin.

  “Difficult to say. It’s in our power to postpone the threat. But the possibility of the feared outcome cannot be eradicated,” replied the monk in a low voice, looking at the ground.

  “My monks are praying now as well,” said lama Tenzin.

  “That’s good. Yet the threat stays,” replied the monk.

  “I consulted proficient fortune tellers. There is no clarity about who cast the shadow.”

  “All that’s happening is no more than mind projections. Let’s not forget that.”

  “Still, we need to act here and now. It doesn’t matter whether we like it or not. In the world of relativity, the causes have effects. And for anything that happens there are causes.”

  “So, more information about the enemy must be collected. We know almost nothing about them, about their methods.”

  “Agreed, Rinpoche. Praying alone will not suffice. We must also apply some mundane means.”

  “I hope you’ll find the right way,” the monk said and looked up. “I would gladly give my life if this could help your mission. What I can do is pray to the celestial powers to be with you.”

  The men stopped and were silent for a while, their eyes wandering in the direction of the mountain chain towering above the plateau not so far ahead.

  “That is a burden to share,” said lama Tenzin softly, as though he was talking to himself.

  “Maybe the time has come,” said the monk.

  “I think it has. I’m going to gather the council of the Shield. Please, continue without me. I have to return to the monastery and prepare my backpack. I’ll leave tomorrow and won’t be back for several days.”

  The monk bowed and walked back to the chapel.

  Lama Tenzin looked at Nyma. “I have to use the satellite phone again. I need your help.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Florence, Italy

  Standing on the steps in front of the Florence National Library, James divided his gaze between the exit, from where Lino would emerge, and the picturesque view of the residential area on the hills on the opposite shore of the Arno River. The working shift of his friend had just ended and he should appear at any moment. James had called him that morning from the hotel where he and Irina were staying and they
had agreed to meet at the library.

  Before calling, James had doubts about how Lino would react to his unexpected visit to Florence. But, to his surprise, Lino had talked in the same warm and friendly tone as before. “How did you find out that they’d brought me to bay?” Lino had asked at the end of their conversation.

  “It was the logical thing. I already know enough about them. They killed Elizabeth.”

  “I’m so sorry… We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  James saw Lino coming through the open gate. His tall stature and unruly bushy hair made him stand out among the crowd in the library’s reception hall.

  Lino made his way through the people, heading quickly to the exit. He wore a threadbare pair of jeans, an old cream-coloured jacket and a white shirt. He had visibly lost weight and the clothes hung on his lean body. His black beard had grown long and curly, which leant a hermit-like touch to his air. Despite his overall slovenly appearance, he seemed to be in good spirits. On seeing James, he smiled and rushed to hug him. They hadn’t met for more than four years.

  “I don’t see the Bulgarian lady-cop,” Lino said looking around.

  “She’s in the car.” James pointed to the Volvo they had hired at the airport. It was sitting in the parking bay of a nearby road. “She has to make a few phone calls. She’ll join us afterwards.”

  “I tell you again, James, I would prefer not to get involved with the police.” Suppressed emotion could be detected in Lino’s voice.

  “She’s a good friend. She wouldn’t reveal your name without your consent,” James reassured him. “Of course, if you feel uneasy you don’t have to meet her.”

  Lino waved his arm in negation. “As you guarantee her – no problem for me.” He looked round again. “I invite you to my house. We can talk there.”

  “Better sit in a public place. It would be an innocent meeting if somebody is watching you.”

  “Okay. I know a place. It’s quiet at this time of day. Not far from here.”

  * * *

  Lino took them to an art café. It had a modern interior set on several different levels separated from each other by low decorative screens made of glass bricks, big enamelled pots of exotic flowers and wide steps. The walls were painted in a variety of light colours. Many paintings and pot-like mini-sculptures were hung on them. Strangely shaped rose marble tables were surrounded by stools, cushions and oval benches covered in mock leather.