Equinox

Chapter 44

Oxford: 30 March, 11.10 p.m.

They stood in the corridor, bent almost double with their hands on their knees, trying to breathe normally again.

'How did you do that?' panted Philip.

'It was obvious really. . Gold.'

'You may have to be a bit more precise.'

'"Aurum", the Latin word for gold. It was spelled in the Guardian's mysterious statement. ALUMNUS AMAS SEMPER UNICUM TUA DEUS. A and U in "ALUMNUS", R in "SEMPER", U and M in "UNICUM".'

'You're a genius, Laura,' Philip said.

'I know'

'And it's nice to know that your mind was on the job back there.'

'I'm a woman, Philip, I multi-task,' she replied, with a grin.

Ahead of them, some twenty yards away, stood a door. It was slightly ajar and light spilled out into the corridor.

Reaching the wall to one side of the opening, they peeped inside.

The room was lit by a cluster of candles in a chandelier that hung from the centre of a domed ceiling. At the far end stood a huge gold pentagram. It was at least seven feet across and rested on a platform a short way from the far wall. To the right of the pentagram Laura could see a glass door set into the wall. It looked like a huge refrigerator, the glass opaque with ice.

Two men stood close to the pentagram. They were wearing long black robes, their hoods thrown back. The man to the right was leaning forward, making adjustments to the metal structure.

Laura was about to turn to whisper something to Philip when the torch that she had been holding suddenly slipped from her grasp. It clanged across the floor. She stepped back quickly and cursed under her breath.

'Laura, I'm so pleased you could join us,' came a familiar voice from the chamber.

She felt a jolt of horror pass through her, a definite physical reaction, immediate and powerful. She turned to Philip, who looked stunned. Closing her eyes, Laura felt the pain of realisation sweep through her. Philip thought she was going to cry, but instead she turned on her heel and walked into the chamber.

James Lightman looked ridiculously relaxed, as though they were meeting in the drawing room of his house or at a tea shop on The High. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him and appeared to be filled with self-confidence and energy. His intense brown eyes glinted in the candlelight. Beside him stood Malcolm Bridges, his eyes expressionless. The shadows that fell across the young man's face made him look like the Grim Reaper.

'You've arrived at a most auspicious time,' Lightman said.

Laura felt sick to her stomach. 'What the hell is this?' she demanded, her face flushing. 'How could you. .?'

With a hint of a smile, Lightman said: 'Surely you suspected, Laura? With your vivid imagination?'

'I could have believed it of him ' She glared at Bridges who returned the look with blank eyes. 'But you, James? Why on earth?'

'Why on earth would I want eternal life, Laura? Now, let me think.'

'But occult rituals. .?'

'It would be a dull world, would it not, if we all believed in the same things? But come. . enough. I must congratulate you both on passing the tests of the Guardians. Few have ever managed it. I would have been keen to see the document that you used to guide you, but I no longer need such things. My task will soon be complete.' He gestured towards the Pentagram.

'As you know from your intrepid investigations, this evening the final organ will be in my possession and the real work will then begin. The final piece will soon be here.'

Laura was about to say something, but Lightman raised his hand. 'I'm sure what you have to say is very important, Laura my dear, but please, let me just finish what I was starting to explain. I think you'll consider it of value. You see, the two of you' — he glanced briefly at Philip — 'will never again see the light of day. It is impossible to retrace your steps through the tunnels of the Guardians and there is only one other way out. That is the route that takes us from here to the library, and only I have the map.' He tapped his breast.

'The route created by John Milliner,' said Laura.

'My predecessor in more ways than one.'

Laura looked puzzled.

'Ah, another piece of the jigsaw puzzle that the two of you missed,' Lightman said. 'John Milliner was not just a Professor of Medicine at the University, he was also Chief Librarian. The Chief Librarians of the Bodleian have been leaders of my order, the Order of the Black Sphinx, for at least a dozen generations. Each of us has added something to the vast network of tunnels beneath the library. Building work stopped a long, long time ago, but we have each added decorations or some other refinement. My contribution has been this ingenious refrigeration unit.'

'And I suppose he's been your executioner.' Laura nodded towards Bridges.

'Oh no, my clever Laura,' Lightman said. 'I'm afraid that there you are quite wrong. Malcolm here has many talents, but he is not your killer. That is the responsibility of another young colleague. He has used ^many aliases over the years, but the university authorities knew him as Julius Spenser. Officially, he's a high-flying psychologist who is now working in America. At least, that's what the police know of him. I'm afraid poor old DCI Monroe has been less than inspired in his efforts of late. . But as it happens, dear girl, there is something I would like to explain about my colleague.'

Lightman took a step back and pulled a revolver from under his robe. Pointing it directly at Bridges, he said coldly: 'Malcolm, maybe you could tell us something about your role in all this.'

The room was as still and silent as a mausoleum. Situated as they were, some hundred feet beneath the Bodleian Library, all the usual sounds of the everyday world were excluded: the rumble of traffic, the noise of people — all these things had been left on the surface. The four of them could have been transported back in time. Ignoring Lightman's refrigeration unit, they might have been standing in this room when Milliner was surveying it for the first time, or when Newton was studying an entirely different set of human organs.

Bridges's eyes now widened in alarm. He put his hands up slowly and deliberately, looking from the old man's face to the gun and back again. Laura could see beads of sweat on his forehead.

'What?' he said, shaking his head slightly. 'What exactly. .?'

'Well, naturally, you would not like to admit. .'

Philip was about to interrupt when Lightman glared at him. 'This has nothing to do with you, Mr Bainbridge.' He gestured at Bridges with the gun. 'Well?'

'I don't. .'

'Malcolm, Malcolm,' Lightman sighed and shook his head. 'Please don't waste my time. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? I'll help you. You see, I know very much more about you than you might imagine. I have many, many useful contacts in all sorts of interesting places. I know, for example, that you were present at the scene when my colleague. . shall we call him Julius? Yes, when Julius was harvesting the brain. The police found a tiny sample of your blood in the girl's house. Then two weeks ago you were caught on film, searching through my study at home. I have records of the most incriminating communications between you and your employers.'

Bridges seemed suddenly transformed. Gone was the pallid academic, the vampiric accessory to a series of horrendous crimes. He suddenly looked more ordinary. 'You know who I work for,' he said, fixing Lightman with his stare. 'Your taxes pay my salary. And if you really have tapped my communications, which I actually rather doubt, you'll know they end up at Millbank. I was at the dead girl's house hoping to get in Spenser's way. Unfortunately, I was too late to save her life — I saw him slice her open. I'm here now to prevent you from finishing your task.'

Lightman gave him a brief, icy smile. But Laura could sense that some of the sheen had gone from his seemingly impervious confidence.

'Ah, the self-assurance of youth,' he said. 'How I admire it so. But I think you have left things a little too late, dear boy. Of course you could not have done much to stop us earlier — there was nothing to go on, was there? Julius is very thorough. What would your superiors have thought if you had gone to them with some cock-and-bull story where the Chief Librarian, who has mysteriously disappeared, is in fact the head of an occult group seeking to employ the services of the Dark Lord in some nefarious ritual? As we speak, Julius is preparing to harvest the final item.'

Bridges said nothing and slowly lowered his hands.

'Don't do that. I think you should keep them there,' Lightman snapped, gesturing with the gun again. Bridges did as he was told. 'Now,' Lightman added and glanced quickly at Laura and Philip, 'you may think I'm a frail old man, but please do not entertain any thoughts of trying to overpower me. I am a superb marksman and a great deal more agile than I might appear.' He took a deep breath. 'I would very much like all three of you to sit down over here, please.' He waved the gun in the direction of the pentagram.

'James, don't you think this has gone far enough?' Laura said.

'You don't really understand, do you, Laura?' Lightman replied. 'This is not a game. This is deadly serious. I have spent the last ten years of my life planning this most delicate process, and tonight will be the climax and the fulfilment of that work. You cannot be allowed to interfere. Now, please, do as I ask.' He put a hand to Laura's shoulder to guide her across the room. But she shrugged him off angrily.

'I can't believe this of you,' she hissed.

Philip took her arm and Lightman herded the three of them to the platform where the pentagram stood. On the floor lay a toolbox. Lightman opened the lid. Inside lay a wrench, some screwdrivers, an assortment of spanners, nuts and bolts, and a roll of duct * tape. He picked up the tape and handed it to Laura.

'Tie their wrists to the pentagram. You, sit down, over there,' he said to the two men. He held the gun to Bridges's back, pushing it just hard enough for him to feel it between his shoulder blades.

Philip slipped off his rucksack and laid it close by before lowering himself to the stone floor. Lightman walked around the back of the pentagram, keeping his revolver trained on them. He kicked Philip's bag across the floor and watched as Laura crouched down and wound the tape around Philip's wrists. He checked it as she moved on to do the same to Bridges.

'Sit down, please, Laura,' he said when she was done. He then taped her wrists to the pentagram.

'Now, I have much to do.' Lightman looked from face to face. Laura turned away in disgust.

'You really are wasting your time, you know' Bridges's voice was quiet but authoritative.

'Don't make me angry, Malcolm,' Lightman snapped. 'Although you are going to die anyway, there are ways to die that you would not like to contemplate, I assure you.'

'The inscription is a fake.'

'Is it, now?'

'Charlie Tucker learned what you were trying to achieve and altered the decoded inscription. He was obviously a believer. You killed him too soon, Professor.'

Lightman stared at Bridges for a moment. When he eventually spoke his voice was strangely subdued. 'I didn't have Tucker killed.'

'Well, whoever did take out Charlie Tucker has left you with a useless inscription that wouldn't conjure up a pixie, let alone Mephistopheles.'

Lightman's eyes were dark with fury. 'You think what you like, Malcolm,' he sneered. 'I imagine you are merely following your training. I can see the training manual now — Technique No.72: Try to intimidate your adversary with potentially threatening but quite spurious information.'

Bridges simply shrugged. 'OK … we can wait.'

'Can you?' Lightman barked and took a step forward. 'Perhaps I can rectify that.' He raised his gun to Bridges's head.

'No!' Laura screamed. Lightman turned on her and Philip, the gun waving around in front of their faces.

Lightman laughed and stepped back to survey the three of them tied to the pentagram. 'What a pathetic sight you make.'

'Oh, do shut up, James,' Laura snapped back. 'If anyone's pathetic it's you — you must have lost your mind.'

Lightman walked over to where Laura was sitting between Bridges and Philip. He lowered himself so that his face was level with hers. She could feel his breath on her cheek.

'You don't have the faintest suspicion, do you?' he said.

'Suspicion of what?' Laura hissed. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

'Why, the identity of the final victim, of course.' He smiled.

It took a moment for his words to take shape in Laura's mind.

'Ah, now you understand,' Lightman said coldly. 'Your daughter will be killed in. .' He looked at his watch. 'About forty-five minutes. Julius will then remove her liver and bring it here.'

Laura went cold. It swept over her like an Arctic wave. She felt Philip beside her trying to yank himself free from the tape that bound him to the pentagram.

'Don't tell me, Mr Bainbridge,' Lightman said softly. 'I won't get away with this? But who is going to stop me? Monroe? He hasn't got the foggiest.'

Laura was speechless with horror. Through her mind raced images of Jo alone at the house in Woodstock and the cold-hearted Julius Spenser creeping in through the back door. Philip had his eyes closed and his lips pressed firmly together. He looked very pale.

'Now, I expect you are wondering how Monroe could not have known Jo was my final subject, are you not?' No one answered Lightman and he seemed quite content to talk on. 'Well, although our DCI is a bit of a clod, this was not entirely his fault. You see, Jo — may I call her Jo? — Jo used her stepfather's name, Newcombe. That, as you know, Laura, is the name she uses for all official purposes and it is the name on her university admission forms. It's the name she used for the psychology tests. How could Monroe have worked that one out?'

Bridges let out an exaggerated sigh, and Lightman snapped his attention back to him.

'I'll say it again, Professor. You're wasting your time.'

Lightman levelled the gun once more at Bridges. They could all see the old man's hand shaking, and Laura suddenly remembered her visit to Lightman's office at the Bodleian a week earlier. She remembered the odd gripping device he had used to alleviate his arthritic pain. But she could do nothing. Her hands were bound so tightly that she could hardly feel her fingers.

Lightman switched hands, and as his right hand fell to his side he shook it as if to relieve some pain.

'You know, Malcolm,' and his voice trembled slightly, 'I'm getting rather tired of you repeating yourself They all watched him bring the gun up to Bridges's forehead. Slowly, almost sensuously, Lightman caressed Bridges's face with the cold muzzle. He moved it across his skin, leaving white marks. 'We are such frail things, are we not?' Lightman whispered. He lowered the gun slowly to a point a few inches above his victim's chest, then slid it along each arm, the left, then the right. Bringing it back to Bridges's torso and down to his groin, Lightman let the gun hover there for a few seconds. Still slowly, he ran it up the young man's right leg, then his left. Reaching the knee, he paused for a second. He seemed to be studying Bridges's leg, tilting his head slightly to one side, considering it. 'So very frail.'

He looked into Malcolm Bridges's eyes and fired.

The sound slammed around the room, ricocheting from the stone walls. The bullet shattered Bridges's knee. He screamed and spasmed violently, crashing back against the metal framework of the pentagram.

Lightman's face was expressionless. He ignored the young man's writhing body and turned his attention to Laura and Philip. They were both paralysed with shock.

'As I say, I have much to do,' Lightman muttered. There was a polite cough from the main doorway.

DCI Monroe stood there, flanked by two police officers. They were dressed in helmets and bulletproof vests. The two uniformed officers had their guns pointing at Lightman's head. 'Freeze! Lower your weapon,' Monroe said.

Lightman took a step to his right and grabbed Laura by the hair, making her scream with pain. Bringing his gun up to her right temple, he said. 'I rather think you should lower your weapons. I do so hate a mess.'

Laura's mind was racing. She refused to let panic overwhelm her. That would not help the situation and it certainly would not help Jo. Monroe and the two policemen stepped forward into the room. In response, Lightman pushed the gun harder against her temple, sending waves of pain through her head.

Without thinking exactly what she was doing, Laura twisted her head and pushed back hard against a crossbar of the metal pentagram immediately behind her. Another wave of pain shot through her, but it must have hurt Lightman even more because his fingers were crushed between the metal and the back of Laura's head.

He yelped, tried to free his hand and lost his balance. It was all the police marksmen needed. Two shots rang out and Lightman fell to the ground, clutching his chest.

Monroe was across the room in an instant. As he reached the pentagram two more officers arrived.

'Jones, get me the paramedic kit,' Monroe shouted.

The other policeman ran over to Lightman's body.

'See to this man immediately.' Monroe pointed to Bridges. 'Get him to the surface and call the paramedics on the way — as soon as you have a signal.' Then he turned to Laura and Philip. 'You two OK?'

Laura's face was drained of blood and her whole body was shaking. 'Jo. . You've got to save Jo,' she gasped.

Monroe looked confused. 'What. .?'

'Jo's the last target,' Philip said, his voice shaky. 'Our daughter — she'll be at my house in Woodstock. The killer's on his way.'

Monroe didn't hesitate. 'Harcourt, Smith,' he yelled to the two officers who had entered the room with him. 'You need to get back to the surface immediately' He turned to Philip. 'What's the address?'

'Somersby Cottage, Ridley Street. It's directly off the High Street, two down from the post office.'

'Tell all units: extreme caution,' Monroe snapped. 'The suspect is armed and highly dangerous.' Then he walked round the back of the pentagram and cut the tape. Laura and Philip jumped to their feet, rubbing their wrists.

'We've got to get out of here,' Laura croaked, her heart thudding in her chest.

'We can deal with this, Laura,' Monroe insisted. 'I hope so. But there's no way I am hanging around here.'

One of the policeman crouching beside Lightman straightened up. 'He's dead,' he announced.

Laura didn't even stop to look at Lightman's corpse as she ran for the door, followed by Philip and Monroe. On his way Philip caught a glimpse of Bridges struggling to sit up. Jones had a tourniquet above the man's knee and an oxygen mask over his face.

'Thank you,' Philip said as he rushed past.

Monroe led the way, turning left through an archway with a curved ceiling illuminated by crystals.

'How did you manage to find us?' Philip asked as they ran.

'You have to thank our friend Malcolm Bridges for that,' Monroe replied.

It took them several minutes to reach the surface. Monroe had to stop a few times to check the map that Bridges had sent him earlier. The tunnels twisted and turned but followed a gentle upward slope. It was exhausting, but they couldn't waste a second. They kept going even as Monroe took out his intercom. One green light showed on the signal indicator. He stabbed at the call button.

'Harcourt? You on the road? Good. All units

heading for Woodstock. Right, listen, the suspect is one Julius Spenser. Get Smith to run a profile en route. We know he's a highly trained assassin. He'll be well armed.' Monroe took several deep breaths as he ran and felt a pain in his chest. Must get back to the gym, he thought. 'We'll be there as quickly as we can. Jenkins will supervise until I get there; he's on his way'

As they turned the final corner they were confronted by a heavy oak door. But there was no need to follow any unlocking code: it was open. Monroe led the way into Lightman's office. They traversed the room with barely a glance around them, passed two police officers standing in the corridor beyond, and a few seconds later emerged into the chill night air. Monroe's car was close to the main doors. Philip and Laura jumped into the back as the DCI took the wheel and raced onto Parks Road, heading north towards Woodstock. Behind them they could see the lights of an ambulance pulling up outside the main entrance to the library.