The Cotton Malone Series 7-Book Bundle

by Steve Berry

  Malone was impressed with the abbey. He, Stephanie, Henrik, and Cassiopeia had been welcomed earlier and given a complete tour, the first non-Templars ever afforded that honor. Their guide, the chaplain, had showed them every recess and patiently explained its history. Then he’d left, saying that the conclave was about to begin. He’d returned a few minutes ago and escorted them into the chapel. They’d come to attend Geoffrey’s funeral, allowed there thanks to the integral role they’d played in finding the Great Devise.

  They sat in the first row of pews, directly before the altar. The chapel itself was magnificent, a cathedral in its own right, a place that had harbored the Knights Templar for centuries. And Malone could feel their presence.

  Stephanie sat beside him, Henrik and Cassiopeia beside her. He heard the breath leave her as the chanting stopped and Mark entered from behind the altar. While the other brothers wore russet cassocks with their heads sheathed, he was dressed in the white mantle of the master. Malone reached over and grasped her trembling hand. She threw him a smile and gripped hard.

  Mark stepped to Geoffrey’s simple coffin.

  “This brother gave his life for us. He kept his oath. For that he will have the honor of being buried in the Hall of Fathers. Before this, only masters were there. Now they will be joined by this hero.”

  No one said a word.

  “Also, the challenge made to our former master by brother de Roquefort is hereby rescinded. His place of honor is restored in the Chronicles. Let us now say goodbye to brother Geoffrey. Through him we have been reborn.”

  The service lasted an hour and Malone and the others followed the brothers underground into the Hall of Fathers. There the coffin was placed in the locolus beside the former master’s.

  Then they headed outside to their cars.

  Malone noticed a calm in Mark and a thaw in his relationship with his mother.

  “And what now for you, Malone?” Cassiopeia asked.

  “Back to bookselling. And my son is coming to spend a month with me.”

  “A son? How old?”

  “Fourteen, going on thirty. He’s a handful.”

  Cassiopeia grinned. “A lot like his father, then.”

  “More like his mother.”

  He’d been thinking about Gary a lot the past few days. Seeing Stephanie and Mark struggle with each other brought back some of his own failings as a father. But you’d never know it from Gary. Where Mark became resentful, Gary was brilliant in school, athletic, and had never once objected to Malone moving to Copenhagen. Instead, he’d encouraged him to go, realizing that his father needed to be happy, too. Malone felt a lot of guilt about that decision. But he looked forward to his time with his son. Last year had been their first summer in Europe. This year they planned on traveling to Sweden, Norway, and England. Gary loved to travel—another thing they had in common.

  “Going to be a good time,” he said.

  Malone, Stephanie, and Henrik would drive to Toulouse and catch a flight to Paris. From there, Stephanie would fly home to Atlanta. Malone and Henrik would travel back to Copenhagen. Cassiopeia was headed to the château in her Land Rover.

  She was standing by her car when Malone walked over.

  Mountains ringed them on all sides. In a couple of months winter would blanket everything with snow. Part of a cycle. As clear in nature as in life. Good, then bad, then good, then more bad, then more good. He remembered telling Stephanie when he retired that he was fed up with the nonsense. She’d smiled at his naïveté and said that so long as the earth was inhabited, there’d be no calm place. The game was the same everywhere. Only the players changed.

  That was okay. The experience of the past week had taught him that he was a player and always would be. But if anyone asked, he’d tell them he was a bookseller.

  “Take care of yourself, Malone,” she said. “I won’t be watching your back anymore.”

  “I have a feeling you and I’ll see each other again.”

  She threw him a smile. “You never know. It’s possible.”

  He walked back to his car.

  “What about Claridon?” Malone asked Mark.

  “He begged forgiveness.”

  “And you graciously granted it.”

  Mark smiled. “He said de Roquefort was going to roast the skin off his feet and a couple of brothers confirmed that. He wants to join us.”

  Malone chuckled. “Are you guys ready for that?”

  “Our ranks were once filled with far worse men. We’ll survive. I look at him as my personal penance.”

  Stephanie and Mark spoke a moment in a quiet tone. They’d already said their goodbyes in private. She appeared calm and relaxed. Apparently their salutation had been amenable. Malone was glad. Peace needed to be made there.

  “What will happen with the ossuary and testimony?” Malone asked Mark. No brothers were nearby, so he felt safe discussing the point.

  “That will stay sealed away. The world is content with what it believes. I’m not going to mess with that.”

  Malone agreed. “Good idea.”

  “But this Order will reemerge.”

  “That’s right,” Cassiopeia said. “I’ve already talked to Mark about becoming involved in the charitable organization I head. The worldwide AIDS effort and famine prevention could use an influx of capital, and this Order now has a lot to spend.”

  “Henrik has lobbied hard, too, for us to get involved with his favorite causes,” Mark said. “And I’ve agreed to help there. So the Knights Templar will be busy. Our skills can be put to great use.”

  He extended his hand, which Mark shook. “I believe the Templars are in good hands. The best of luck to you.”

  “You, too, Cotton. And I still want to know about that name.”

  “You call me one day and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  They climbed into the rental with Malone driving. As they settled in and buckled their seat belts, Stephanie said, “I owe you one.”

  He stared over at her. “That’s a first.”

  “Don’t get accustomed to it.”

  He smiled.

  “Use it wisely.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  And he cranked the car.

  WRITER’S NOTE

  While sitting at a café in Højbro Plads, I decided that my protagonist had to live in Copenhagen. It is truly one of the world’s great cities. So Cotton Malone, bookseller, became a new addition to that busy square. I also spent time in southern France discovering much of the history and many of the locales that ended up in this story. Most of the plot came to me while traveling, which is understandable, given the inspiring qualities of Denmark, Rennes-le-Château, and the Languedoc. But it’s time to know where the line was drawn between fact and fiction.

  The crucifixion of Jacques de Molay, as depicted in the prologue, and the possibility of his image being that on the Shroud of Turin (chapter 46) are the conclusions of Christopher Knight and Robert Lomas. I was intrigued when I discovered the idea in their work, The Second Messiah, so I wove their innovative concept into the story. Much of what Knight and Lomas say—as related by Mark Nelle in chapter 46—makes sense and is likewise consistent with all of the scientific dating evidence amassed from the shroud over the past twenty years.

  The Abbey des Fontaines is fictional, but is largely based on bits and pieces from many Pyrenean retreats. The locales in Denmark all exist. The cathedral at Roskilde and Christian IV’s crypt (chapter 5), are truly magnificent, and the view from the Round Tower in Copenhagen (chapter 1) does in fact harken back to another century.

  Lars Nelle is a composite of many men and women who have devoted their lives to writing about Rennes-le-Château. I read many sources, some bordered on the bizarre, others on the ridiculous. But in their own way each offered a unique insight into this truly mysterious place. Along that line, several points to be made:

  The book Pierres Gravées du Languedoc by Eugène Stüblein (first mentioned in chapter 4) is part of the Rennes
folklore, though no one has ever seen a copy. As related in chapter 14, the book is catalogued in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, but the volume is missing.

  The original gravestone of Marie d’Hautpoul de Blanchefort is gone, most likely destroyed by Saunière himself. But a sketch was supposedly made of it on June 25, 1905, by a visiting scientific society, the drawing eventually published in 1906. But at least two versions of that supposed sketch exist, so it’s hard to know for sure about the original.

  All of the facts relevant to the d’Hautpoul family and their connection to the Knights Templar are real. As detailed in chapter 20, the abbé Bigou was Marie’s confessor and did in fact commission her gravestone ten years after her death. He likewise fled Rennes in 1793 and never returned. Whether he actually left behind secret messages is conjecture (all part of the Rennes lure), but the possibility does make for an intriguing story.

  The murder of the abbé Antoine Gélis happened, and in the manner as depicted in chapter 26. Gélis was indeed connnected to Saunière, and some have speculated that Saunière may have been involved in his death. But no evidence exists for such a link and the crime remains, to this day, unsolved.

  Whether there is a crypt beneath the church at Rennes will never be known. As stated in chapters 32 and 39, local officials will not allow any exploration. But the lords of Rennes have to be buried somewhere and, to date, their crypt has not been located. The references to the crypt supposedly found in the parish journal, as mentioned in chapter 32, are real.

  The Visigoth pillar noted in chapter 39 exists and is on display in Rennes. Saunière indeed inverted the pillar and carved words upon it. The connection between 1891 (1681, when inverted) to Marie d’Hautpoul de Blanchefort’s gravestone (and the 1681 references there) does indeed stretch the bounds of coincidence, but all that exists. So perhaps there is a message there somewhere.

  All of the buildings and all that Saunière fashioned relative to the church at Rennes are real. Tens of thousands of visitors each year experience Saunière’s domain. The 7/9 connection is my invention, based on observations I made while studying the Visigoth pillar, the stations of the cross, and various other items in and around the Rennes church. To my knowledge, no one has written of this 7/9 connection, so perhaps this will be my personal addition to the Rennes saga.

  Noël Corbu lived in Rennes and his part in forging much of the fiction about the place is true (chapter 29). An excellent book, The Treasure of Rennes-le-Château: A Mystery Solved, by Bill Putnam and John Edwin Wood, deals with Corbu’s fabrications. Corbu did purchase Saunière’s domain from the priest’s elderly mistress. Most agree that if Saunière knew anything, he may well have told his mistress. One part of the legend (probably another Corbu fabrication) is that the mistress told Corbu the truth before dying in 1953. But we’ll never know. What we do know is that Corbu profited from the fiction of Rennes, and he was the source, in 1956, for the first newspaper stories about the supposed treasure. As stated in chapter 29, Corbu did pen a manuscript about Rennes, but the pages disappeared after his death in 1968.

  Eventually, the Rennes legend was memorialized in a 1967 book, The Accursed Treasure of Rennes-le-Château, by Gérard de Sède, which is recognized as the first book on the subject. A lot of fiction is contained there, most of which is a regurgitation of Corbu’s original 1956 story. Eventually Henry Lincoln, a British filmmaker, came upon the tale and is credited with the popularization of Rennes.

  The painting Reading the Rules of the Caridad, by Jaun de Valdes Leal, presently hangs in the Spanish chapter church of Santa Caridad. I relocated it to France since its symbolism was irresistible. Consequently, its inclusion into the Rennes story is my invention (chapter 34). The papal palace at Avignon is accurately portrayed, except for the archives, which I concocted.

  Cryptograms are indeed part of the Rennes story. The ones contained herein, however, came from my imagination.

  The castle reconstruction site at Givors is based on an actual project that is presently ongoing in Guédelon, France, where craftsmen are building a thirteenth-century castle using the tools and raw materials of that time. The endeavor will indeed take decades and the site is open to the public.

  The Templars, of course, existed and their history is accurately reflected. Their Rule is likewise quoted with accuracy. The poem in chapter 10 is real, author is unknown. All that the Order accomplished, as detailed throughout the book, is true and stands as a testament to an organization that was clearly ahead of its time. As to the Templar lost wealth and knowledge, neither has been found since the October 1307 purge, though Philip IV of France did indeed search in vain. The account of carts headed for the Pyrenees (chapter 48) is based on ancient historical references, though nothing can be known for sure.

  Unfortunately there are no chronicles of the Order. But perhaps those documents await some adventurer who will one day find the lost Templar cache. The induction ceremony in chapter 51 is reproduced accurately using the words required by Rule. But the burial ceremony, as detailed in chapter 19 is fictional, though first-century Jews did indeed bury their dead in a similar fashion.

  The Gospel of Simon is my creation. But the alternate concept of how Christ may have been “resurrected” came from an excellent book, Resurrection, Myth or Reality by John Shelby Spong.

  The conflicts between the four books of the New Testament relative to the resurrection (chapter 46), have challenged scholars for centuries. The fact that only one crucified skeleton has ever been found (chapter 50) does raise questions, as do many comments and statements made throughout history. One in particular, attributed to Pope Leo X (1513–1521) caught my attention. Leo was a Medici, a powerful man backed by powerful allies, heading a Church that, at the time, ruled supreme. His statement is short, simple, and strange for the head of the Roman Catholic Church.

  Indeed, it was the spark that generated this novel.

  It has served us well, this myth of Christ.

  Personal and Confidential

  Magellan Billet Dossier

  For Internal Use Only

  Not for Public Dissemination

  Born: Harold Earl Malone, Thomasville, Georgia. Acquired the nickname “Cotton,” origin undisclosed.

  Physical Traits: 6’0”. 195 lbs. Burnished blond hair. Green eyes.

  Parents: Forrest and Peggy Jean Malone. Father, served United States Navy, final rank, Commander, lost at sea aboard USS Blazek. Mother still alive, living in Georgia.

  Psychological Note: Though Malone loved and respected his father, he remained angry for years after his father’s death. Their time together had been limited to three years, from the time Malone was seven until he was ten, and those memories are vague and scattered. He related that there is never a day he doesn’t think about his father. He never questioned him either. He also remarked that, though he never knew the man well, he has unwittingly emulated his father many times. Forrest Malone was the last captain of NR-1A (a highly classified submersible), a career military man, and an Annapolis graduate. The NR-1A’s existence and disappearance remains classified. Malone mentioned twice the fact that there had been no cemetery for him to visit. No remains. Nothing but a classified stamp on a file. Throughout his adult life he wondered what actually happened to his father. Eventually, he conducted an independent investigation, all of which is detailed in a file titled The Charlemagne Pursuit. Malone remains angry with the Navy over its handling of his father’s disappearance.

  His mother, a native Georgian, worshipped her husband. Malone related that he’s never seen his mother cry, which probably explains his own reluctance to show emotion. Being atypical, Malone and his mother did not relocate as his father’s duty stations changed. Instead, she maintained a steady home environment in Georgia. At the memorial service for his father (held after the loss of the Blazek), when the Navy honor guard presented her a folded flag, she refused it. She never remarried, and still refers to herself as Mrs. Forrest Malone.

  Religious Affiliation:
Malone was born and raised Catholic, though he no longer actively practices the faith.

  Special Traits: At the age of 12 Malone realized he had an eidetic memory—the ability to remember objects, images, words, and numbers with extraordinary accuracy. He also, early on, developed a love of books and reading. This translated, as an adult, into book collecting and eventually to him opening (after his early retirement) his own rare bookshop. He is prone to extreme self-motivation and obsessive dedication. He exudes physical confidence and an extraordinary command of his surroundings. He is tough, gutsy, decisive. He accepts any situation thrown at him, and exhibits exceptional courage under fire. He often uses humor to mock reality, dodge an issue, twist an argument, or escape involvement.

  Psychological Note: Team sports never interested Malone, but he loved to swim. He recalls how he and his father spent time swimming together. Horses were another interest; he taught himself to ride as a teenager. He learned early in life to never hurry anything, as that simply bred mistakes. He believes deeply that skepticism is fundamental to survival, but loyalty is essential.

  Education: Malone graduated second in his class from Thomasville High School. He was accepted to the Naval Academy where he graduated in the top third of his class. He acquired an unusual ability for foreign languages and is now fluent in at least a dozen, including Arabic.

  Psychological Note: Has a dislike of enclosed spaces, so he shied away from the submarine service, opting instead for Navy flight school. He earned the required marks for fighter pilot training but declined, opting for the Judge Advocate General’s corps. His father’s contemporaries, many of whom had risen to high naval rank, thought that the better course. Out of respect for his father he followed their advice and was accepted at Georgetown University Law School. He earned a Juris Doctorate degree while stationed with the Judge Advocate General’s Corps at the Pentagon. He still holds an aircraft pilot’s license and an underwater diving certification.