"That's settled, then. Let's talk about what you found in the church."
"What was in the pouch was a letter from Jacques de Molay," Selena said.
Elizabeth had thought nothing else about this search for the Ark could surprise her until she heard that. She considered what Selena had just said.
"The Grand Master of the Templars?"
"The same. It's an extraordinary letter. It was written in Latin. The pouch was sealed with something that kept it tight, so the parchment was in good condition. It's downstairs, in the safe. I've got the translation here."
She read from a piece of yellow note paper.
In the Year of Our Lord, 1307, in the Sixth Month
To Walter de la More, Master and Commander
I, Jacques de Molay, swear by Almighty God that the accusations against the Order are false and without merit. Brother, the King has corrupted the Vicar of Christ. Phillip is not worthy of his throne, nor Clement to hold the Shepherd's Crook. These words alone condemn me to the stake if they are discovered.
You received the shipments from Cyprus, this has been reported to me. I trust you have secured them.
There are rumors Clement will convene an inquiry. I am uncertain what will happen, but fear the King is set to move against us.
Our enemies are many and strong. You must prepare for an assault. The protection of the Container is a charge given to us by Him who rules all. We must keep it from the hands of those who serve the Great Deceiver. The burden is no longer mine, but yours.
May God keep you safe.
"It's signed by de Molay."
"Wasn't he burned at the stake in 1307?" Nick asked.
"No. He was imprisoned, but he wasn't burned until 1314. 1307 is when he and the Templars were arrested. The letter was written in June of 1307. Pope Clement V held an inquiry in August and the Templars were arrested in October."
"The Vicar of Christ in the letter."
Selena nodded.
"Who was Walter de la More?"
"Master of the London Commandery, the Temple Church. He's probably the one who put that pouch in Marshal's tomb. La More was arrested in 1308 and imprisoned in the Tower of London. He wouldn't sign a confession, so he was tortured. He died in the Tower."
"How does Cyprus come into this?" Ronnie asked.
"The main headquarters of the Templars were on Cyprus," Selena said. "The treasury of the Templars was there as well."
"So de Molay knew things were going south and he shipped the Ark to England," Nick said.
"It looks like it. It would have been vulnerable in Cyprus because of Turkish attacks. Likewise in France because of King Phillip. England would have looked like a better bet. They didn't find a great treasure in Cyprus, just a relatively small amount. Perhaps de Molay shipped that to England as well."
"This is all real interesting," Ronnie said, "but we still don't know where it is. We're out of leads."
"But now we have proof the Ark still existed before 1307 and that the Templars had it," Elizabeth said. "It's probably still wherever la More hid it, or it would have surfaced by now."
"Somewhere in England?" Nick said.
"That seems logical." Elizabeth said. "I suppose it could also be in Ireland or Scotland."
"How are we going to pin it down?" Stephanie asked.
"I want you and Selena to research everything you can think of about la More. There has to be something, somewhere. People are predictable. He would have hidden it in a place he thought no one could find, but he would have had some knowledge of wherever that was. So look for patterns. Look at his genealogy, his family, all of it."
"He may have been childless," Selena said. "The Templars took a vow of chastity."
"That doesn't mean he didn't have children," Harker said. "Look anyway."
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Selena saw the red light flashing on her answering machine as she came in the door. Usually the only calls on that line were telemarketers ignoring the do not call rule. She thought there was probably a special place in a particularly hot corner of hell for them and all their employers.
One message. She pressed the play button, ready to delete.
"Hi, Doctor Connor, this is Detective Hanson. Uh, sorry I didn't catch you in." There was a pause. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know there's nothing new yet on the guy who attacked you. I'd still like to have that drink with you. Give me a call, if you're up for it."
Hanson read off his phone number. The message ended.
Selena erased it, got a glass out of the cabinet and poured herself an Irish whiskey, a taste she'd picked up from hanging out with Nick. The liquor was strong and warm going down. She walked over to the couch and sat down.
She wasn't going to have a drink with Detective Hanson. What bothered her was that part of her wanted to. She didn't need that kind of complication right now. She took another swallow of whiskey.
Nick.
What did she want from him, exactly?
They weren't sleeping in the same bed anymore and it wasn't helping things between them. His nightmares made it impossible. He hadn't said much about his counseling sessions. She wasn't sure when he was going again. Something always seemed to come up.
She felt like she was treading water, waiting for something to happen that would define them as a couple, one way or another. Everything felt impermanent. She supposed there were worse things. They made a good team in the field and neither one of them would still be alive except for the other. It made for a strong bond. Just the same, knowing he could be killed made it hard to imagine a future together.
Working for the Project wasn't like it had been in the beginning, before she understood what it was really about. It was hard, dirty work, where people got killed. Where her friends were at risk. Where vicious and pathological enemies would do anything to get what they wanted.
She loved Nick, she was certain. She was pretty sure he loved her, but they were different in so many ways. Shared danger gave them something in common. But a relationship needed something more than shared danger to survive.
What about children? She had avoided thinking about children. The kind of work she did, Nick did, it wasn't a good situation for having kids. But she was almost 35. The old cliché about the biological clock popped into her mind. How much longer could she wait? Did she want children or not? If she didn't have children, her family line would stop. Cease to exist. Just like the Earl of Pembroke.
When the detective had asked for her number, she'd had a sudden image of the two of them in bed together. In some ways Hanson was like Nick. Strong, dark-haired, competent, unafraid. A rugged man who carried a gun.
Are you that shallow? she thought. Dark hair and a gun is enough to turn you on? She thought about Nick. A wave of unease swept through her. He could be killed, any time, any day. I could lose him in an instant. I've been pushing it away. How can I give everything over to someone who might leave me forever at any moment?
The next thought chilled her. He has to feel the same way about me. He already lost one lover.
For the first time, she sensed the fundamental problem between them. In her heart, she believed that whatever they had couldn't last. Not because he would leave her for another, or because she wanted someone else. Because a bullet or a bomb could snuff out either one of their lives in an instant.
It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over her.
There was nothing to do but take it one day at a time. The thought didn't make her feel better, but she could handle one day at a time. At least she could handle it today.
She got up and poured another drink.