“What is in it for me?” he asked suavely, piercing her with his light grey eyes and laying on his own brand of persistent charisma. “Your soul?”
The beauty threw her head back in obscene laughter, amusing the white haired genius. “Oh, David, you are a gem! Touché!” Purdue laughed with her, but was anxious for an answer. Her exuberant reaction drew attention from the Queen of the Netherlands and the two men standing with her, the Ambassador of Denmark and American communications tycoon, Henry Goldstein. They looked positively revolted, but kept to themselves nonetheless, with no desire to hush the forceful hussy they seemed to know personally. Then they looked at Purdue with equal disdain, but he noticed a different air about their looks. Seeing him with the stunning Middle Eastern beauty almost made them look sorry for him. For a blink in time, Purdue noticed an imperceptible warning shine in Goldstein’s expression, before he looked away.
Not since he was on trial before the Order of the Black Sun as Renatus, had Purdue felt so alone, so singled out. In fact, had he not been independently wealthy with all the resources his heart desired, he may well have felt an inkling of terror at that moment. Deep inside, he felt isolated and unsafe.
“In all honesty, what is in it for me?” he reiterated his query. The woman ceased her giggling and looked him in the eye.
“Money,” she replied.
“I have money,” he grinned arrogantly. “You will have to do better than that, my dear.”
She smiled, looking momentarily put down by his dismissal, but she was far from being out of chips to play this game. Her tone grew hard, and she delivered her bait with conviction. Purdue knew she’d deserted the charm and exchanged it for straight business talk — it had to be serious to her, whatever this was she wished to gain.
“You’re right, Mr. Purdue. Offering you money is like offering God the Universe, right?” she conceded. “If you help me I will give you three things your heart desires.”
Purdue smiled, but he was both wary and slightly unnerved. “Carry on,” he said. “Which three things would those be?”
“Whatever your heart desires, Mr. Purdue. Pay attention,” she snapped.
“What could I possibly desire that I cannot attain myself?” he chuckled, swigging the last of the bubbly. But something about her rising anger warned him that he was not playing with a spoiled princess or a desperate feminist. He physically felt his heart and stomach tense up at her silent annoyance. He added, “Nobody has anything I cannot achieve by my own means, madam.”
Her dark eyes, like onyx on fire, gazed at him, fueling his panic. There was something to her preposterous offer that felt genuine, but he dared not entertain such a notion. Then again, why did the other guests look at him with borderline pity?
She whispered, “Three things, David. Any three things I can give you if you help me find my treasure.” Drawing closer to him, she was not being suggestive this time, but meant to keep her proposition as quiet and secret as she could. Purdue felt as if her voice came from inside his mind, even though he could feel her breath from the outside his ear. “I can destroy the Order of the Black Sun in a day for you, David. You will never have to run from them again. I can make any woman sway to your whims. And yes, I know there are women who elude you. I can bring you peace, make you the king of the world, if you wish. All these leaders will kneel to you.”
Purdue could feel the hair raise on his skin, but he maintained his cynicism. “If you can destroy the Black Sun, why have you not done so already?”
The beauty looked amused, almost chuckling as she drew away from him to scrutinize his face to find the humor there. “Why on earth would I destroy them? They’re not my bane, but yours. Please, David, I do not busy myself with matters that do not pertain to me.”
“Three things,” he asked again, smiling at the interesting challenge. “What are you, a genie?” Purdue laughed heartily at his insinuation, but the lady was not as entertained as he.
“Do not jest about ancient things you will not comprehend in your tiny mind,” she retorted in vexation, shifting in the sofa seat and leering at the rich and powerful herd in the room. “You might be a genius among humans, Mr. Purdue, but the smartest cockroach on earth is still…just a cockroach. Are you willing to help me find my treasure at the Temple or not?”
Her statement was harsh, but Purdue liked her engaging appeal. There was much in her way that could convince him to join in her endeavor. After all, he had nothing to lose. His name restored, his holdings were consolidated and unreachable by any third party. Such a venture, lucrative or not, would not harm or mar his financial growth. “Tell me what you are looking for and I shall tell you if searching for it is worth my time, my dear lady. And your name would be a nice touch as well.”
The olive-skinned beauty smiled at his response. Looking pleased, she lifted her defenses somewhat. “Countess Baldwin, widow of Freiherr Klaus Geier,” she revealed proudly. “And I am looking for a very old family heirloom, Mr. Purdue, something from my own family’s history. I have reason to believe it is on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, under the masonry of a plaza. You see, only you can search the plaza’s subterranean vicinity without bulldozing the whole thing and drawing attention. Your technological inventions are legendary, and nobody else would have a discreet way of locating the item.”
“And what exactly is this item, Countess Baldwin?” Purdue asked curiously, pouring the dark-eyed beauty a glass of absinthe to match his.
They raised their glasses. Crystal tapping crystal sounded like a delicate bell to accommodate the Countess’ sublime voice. “It is a crown, Mr. Purdue. My crown.”
16
Revelations of Masks Removed
It was well past midnight, but Nina was too intrigued by the strange customs reflected by the eight bodies still awaiting collection, in vain. Outside the office of the medical examiners, it was business as usual. Now and then Nina would hear a vehicle pull up, wheels squeaking under gurneys as unfortunate victims were delivered to the fridges of Upney Lane’s Nirvana. Voices would discuss processing and next of kin before it would grow quiet once more. The shift staff and security knew that the historian was permitted to work in Dr. Victor’s office, so they tried not to disturb her.
Still, every time a doom wagon would show up, or when the trains passed along the rails behind the building, the clattering of metal or slamming doors would startle Nina into a frenzy. After a while, she’d come to recognize the rumble of gurneys, cracking of hinges, and noise from doors opening and shutting. Even so, thumps came without warning, evoking more than a few choice words from the weary historian.
But as the night drew on, the chatter became less frequent and the ambulance and coroner visits rarer. Nina made her own notes from the records retrieved by Dr. Hooper’s wife and Dr. Victor’s comments on the peculiarities of the bodies. In the sharp light of the desk lamp, Nina sat mumbling the information as she typed the details onto her laptop.
One by one, she recorded the names of the men. As Glen Victor reported, they had names such as Carbo, Fluere and Silex. Next to her open spreadsheet, she had the periodic table open on screen so that she could identify which names were the Latin or Greek version of the chemical elements.
“Bromos,” she muttered as she typed, “you have your sigil on your left hand.” She looked impressed for a moment. “You seem to be the other side of Kadmia, who has his on his right hand.” Nina found it uncanny that some had their markings on the same body parts, but on opposite sides of the physique. “Why are they named after elements? What is the connection between the body parts and the elements?”