He stepped aside so that Mimette could clearly see the other sleeping duo behind him. She stared at the crumpled bodies and her voice shook as she asked: “They’re not—?”
The Saint laughed.
“No, just taking a short rest... Attendez vous deux!”
His voice cracked like a whip with authority, and the two workmen who were still on their feet stopped their furtive attempt to back away to the door.
Mimette faced them coldly.
“Pourquoi?”
The one called Dubois pointed rancorously at the Saint.
“Because he killed Gaston.”
“Really? So you know more than the police, do you?” she said sarcastically.
“Everything has gone wrong since he came here,” said the other sullenly. “The men are saying he has re-animated the curse of the Templars.”
“You mean you are saying it, Arnould,” Mimette retorted. “That is just superstitious nonsense. And Monsieur Templar did not kill Gaston.”
“Did you think that up all by yourselves, or did someone give you lessons?” Simon inquired of the men. “And who suggested dealing with me on your own?”
The two men looked warily at each other and each understood something that was not spoken. Dubois indicated the big man who had tried to bear-hug the Saint and was now beginning to stir back to an awareness of the world.
“It was his idea,” Dubois state flatly.
“Louis?” Mimette scoffed. “He’s an ox. He never had an idea in his life.”
“Let it ride, Mimette,” said the Saint. “They’re not going to tell us unless we beat it out of them and I don’t have the time.”
Both fallen warriors were now starting to climb back to the vertical. They glared murderously at the Saint but made no move to restart the battle.
“Take your friends and get out,” Simon told the deflated quartet, and they hurried to obey.
He waited until they had left before turning to Mimette.
“And what brought you to the rescue?” he asked as he retrieved his flashlight from where it had fallen during the scuffle.
“I was looking for you. When you told me about the car and Philippe, it made me forget that I’d remembered.”
“You’re getting confusing.”
“Pardon. What I meant was that while you were away I realised where I’d seen that drawing on the parchment before. There’s something like it on the stone in the hall.”
“Interesting.”
She pouted.
“You don’t seem very excited. I thought you’d be pleased.”
The Saint grinned mischievously.
“Allow me to upstage you.”
He moved over to the hole in the floor, switching on the flashlight as he began to descend the steps. The generator had been turned off, and except for the beam of his torch centred on the statue the chamber was in total darkness. Mimette joined him and shuddered as she gazed at the hideous figure.
“This is my party piece,” he said grandly. “Watch carefully.”
He stepped over to the statue and operated the hidden mechanism. Slowly the section of wall swung back.
“Voilà! How about that?”
Mimette was fascinated. The Saint shone his torch through the opening to show the passage beyond.
“How did you find it?” she asked at last.
“Luck,” Simon admitted candidly. “To be honest, I didn’t pay much attention to it at first. After all, there must be quite a few other tunnels and cellars under the château. Then I remembered something Louis Norbert had said, and it all fitted into place.”
“What was that?”
“When he was telling me about the Templars a few days ago, he mentioned that ‘Ingare’ was an anagram of ‘Regina.’ It didn’t seem to mean much to him either — then. Later, Gaston fell into this chamber, complete with statue of Hecate. Still no significance, until you know that she was supposed to be Queen of the Underworld and the ‘guardian of the crossroads.’ ” He tied a graphic knot in the air with his empty hand. “Then it all slots together. She is the Regina the Templars referred to, and she’s at a crossroads, albeit a hidden one. The parchment showed the tower and some squiggly lines underneath. I kept thinking it was a river, but it was a tunnel.”
Her lively intelligence was impatient to overtake him.
“So this passage leads to the tower?”
“It seems likely. Remember I told you I saw a man leave the tower and talk to the two villains who set fire to the barn? Well, he never re-appeared, and I thought he must have kept behind the wall and beat it back to the château. No need if there was a tunnel running from the tower.”
“But that was before this place was found,” she argued.
He nodded.
“Yes. Which means there’s another way in and out. I heard voices in the chapel, but I found only Louis there. My guess is that this passage links up with a tunnel running from the tower to the chapel.”
“And Norbert knows about it? But why didn’t he say anything?”
“He certainly knows about it, and a good deal more. I’m sure of that,” Simon replied. “I don’t believe our professor is altogether the dotty academic he likes people to think he is.”
“But surely you don’t believe he could have killed Gaston?”
“No, I don’t think he did that. I figure him more as a schemer than a doer. But I’ll bet he has a fair idea who done it.”
She put a reflective finger to her lower lip.
“So you came down here to trace out the passage.”
“That was the idea, and still is,” he said.
“We’ll go together,” announced Mimette.
He shook his head. “No. This is my little project,” he said firmly. “We’re dealing with a murderer, and just in case I bump into him I’d rather not have you to worry about.”
“But...”
“No buts. I’ll feel a lot better if I know that someone somewhere safe knows where I’ve gone. Go back to the château and wait. If I haven’t surfaced in an hour or so, start ringing the alarm bells. Okay?”
“I suppose so,” she agreed reluctantly.
Simon bent over and kissed her lightly on the nose.
“A très tôt,” he said softly.
He shone the beam of his flashlight on the ladder as she climbed up. She stopped at the top.
“Good luck, Simon.”
“I might need it,” he called back cheerfully, and with a wave of his hand he strode into the darkness of the passage.
For the first several paces the floor was smooth and straight, but then it began to veer and turn until even his sense of direction had a problem to keep track of it. The tunnel was cut through the solid rock of the hill, and was so irregular that at one moment he could not touch the roof and at others had to bend low to avoid hitting his head.
Counting his steps, he estimated that he had travelled nearly one hundred metres when the passage merged with another. His sense of direction told him that the left-hand branch would lead towards the château, and he decided to explore that one first. The tunnel became wider and straighter, and the air was remarkably fresh, indicating that the passage had certainly not been hermetically sealed for hundreds of years.
Presently the way began to slope upwards and the floor became smoother, the rock eventually giving way to flagstones.
He came to a couple of smaller passages that ran off on either side, but they dead-ended in a few yards, and he reckoned that he was now on the other side of some of the brick walls he had seen in the wine-cellar.
Finally he found himself confronted by a heavy oak door. Like the one leading from the great hall to the chapel, it was studded with square-topped iron nails and had a heavy ring for a handle. He reached out and turned it and pulled. The door opened soundlessly on recently oiled hinges.