‘I do.’
‘Then I must insist you give it to me immediately. It is an illegally made copy of a digital transcript of four of the books in this library.’
She feels a shift of mood. ‘At the moment, that’s not possible. It’s an intrinsic part of my homicide investigation and it will remain so until the case is closed.’
‘For your sake and your family’s — you really must give it to me.’
She tilts her head and frowns accusingly. ‘Say that again, because from where I’m standing, it sounded like a threat.’
‘It is. While you are in possession of that copy, you are putting your life and that of anyone who matters to you in serious danger.’ He dips his right hand into his pocket and produces a small black battery zapper, which he presses.
The room fills with the thunder of iron shutters closing off the doorway, the alcoves and staircase.
Within seconds, the library is transformed into a giant metal cell.
111
The display cases sink into armoured recesses until they are flush with the stone floor. Red lights flash. An alarm sounds.
Sir Owain walks calmly to an archway and holds his hand against a fingerprint scanner. ‘This room is protected,’ he explains to Mitzi. ‘But sadly, you are not. I can give you security, the best in the world, but only if you return what is rightfully mine and you understand the causes that I am involved in and respect the reasons to keep them secret.’
He types a code on an alphanumeric pad below the scanner and the middle display case disappears below floor level. Lights flicker in the dark space and Mitzi sees stone steps leading down below ground.
Sir Owain walks over to her. ‘Lieutenant, the threat to your life and those of your twins and your sister Ruth is not from me. It is from people who seek to hurt me and those who work with me for the greater good.’
‘And who exactly are those people working for the greater good?’
‘I hope, in good time to have you meet them — even become one of them. From what I know about you—’
‘You don’t know anything about me apart from a few names you’d find online and quite honestly, I’d like to keep it that way.’
‘I know you’ve worked more than a hundred homicides, three of them serial killings. You’ve been lead detective on sixteen rapes and five child sex abuse cases, all of which resulted in successful prosecutions. In your earlier days, you cleared up more robberies than any other detective on the force.’
‘Okay, you’ve had some private dick pull my service record. Big deal.’
‘Your beautiful twins, Amber and Jade — they were born five minutes apart. From what I’m told, they were not your first pregnancies. You lost a child, a boy, during the first trimester. You hadn’t told anyone about the pregnancy, so you didn’t tell anyone about the loss. I believe you were back at work twenty-four hours after leaving hospital.’
Mitzi feels violated. Only her confidential medical and employment records could have shown him those facts.
‘Your ex-husband Alfred has been unemployed since you had him sent to prison for the last in a long line of assaults on you. And he will probably still be out of work a year from now. Jack, the man your sister Ruth has thrown out of her house, yesterday engaged one of San Francisco’s most aggressive divorce solicitors and right this moment he has investigators searching for easy ways to make sure she gets the worst settlement.’
‘How do you know these things?’
‘Knowing things is my business.’ He gestures, palm open, to the staircase running below the library.
‘You’re joking, right?’ She gives him a wary look. ‘No way am I going down there with you.’
‘You are not in danger from me, Mitzi. Far from it. You came here because of questions about an iron-age cross and a series of deaths. The answers are down there.’
‘I’m still not going.’
Owain reaches into his jacket and produces a gun.
Mitzi backs off.
‘Don’t be alarmed. It’s for you, not me.’ He holds it by the short barrel and extends it. ‘It’s loaded.’
She snatches it and checks the magazine. It’s a Glock 23 packed with .40 rounds. ‘I thought hand weapons were banned in Britain.’
‘They are. I have a special licence for that, and for many other weapons.’ He turns his back to her and starts to descend the staircase. ‘Please be careful; the steps are steeper than you might imagine and I don’t want you to trip and shoot me accidentally.’
Mitzi watches him disappear and feels her heart pound. She looks around the sealed-off library, takes a deep breath and steps down into the darkness.
112
The stairs from the library lead into a long and wide stone tunnel dimly lit by recessed amber lights. Everything is watched over by innumerable ceiling-mounted surveillance cameras.
To Mitzi’s surprise, there is what looks like a glass and metal security lodge ten yards ahead of her. Sir Owain is stood there, talking to two men in black uniforms. They are almost as tall as the ambassador and have holstered guns on their belts and automatic weapons racked on a wall behind them.
She stuffs the Glock he gave her into the band of her slacks. There’s no point carrying it. It would be as much use as a peashooter against the level of firepower down here.
‘Mitzi.’ He calls for her to hurry up.
The men in black give her a polite smile as she walks past them and through a shuttered door they’ve opened for their boss.
To her surprise, there’s a second set of stairs beyond the checkpoint leading to what at first glance looks like a chapel. A raised, candlelit altar covered in a white cloth stands thirty yards ahead of her. Behind it, a large wooden crucifix, complete with the sagging wounded body of Christ. As her eyes become accustomed to the light, she notices the cross is identical to the one she saw in Irish’s drawing.
Now she sees the tombs.
Dozens of them. So many, that at first she they look like stone benches. Each of the sarcophagi is three feet high and topped by a marble sculpture of a knight in armour, complete with sword and shield. His arms are folded across his chest and lying over his heart is a small replica of the cross behind the altar.
‘What is this?’ asks Mitzi. ‘Some kind of family crypt?’
‘It’s a knights’ mausoleum.’ He walks towards her. ‘Not the only one in the world, but undoubtedly the most secret and secure.’ He runs his hand over the smooth marble head of a carved figure. ‘This, here, is my father. All down this side of the crypt, is my bloodline. Along the opposite side is my wife’s.’
Mitzi surveys the rows of carved sarcophagi. ‘And the rest — the ones in the middle?’
‘They are the bravest of the brave. Centuries of men and women who secretly served their countries and gave their lives in the battle against evil.’
She walks around the back of a tomb and sees an inscription dating back to the thirteenth century. ‘So all these dead folk, they’re what, some religious militia?’
‘I’ve never heard it called that before. We like to think of our movement as a circle of people who, like yourself, are dedicated to keeping the world safe. In medieval times they were called knights. These days we don’t like anyone to know we exist, let alone call us anything. Anonymity is our strongest shield.’
‘But what do you call yourselves?’
‘Arthurians. We follow codes and principles close to those historians have attributed to King Arthur.’ Owain walks on and Mitzi tails him until they stop just before the altar.