Templar's Code

CHAPTER 61

Finished reading The Book of Moses, Edie released a gusty breath. “Whew! Those monks of Medmenham were very bad boys.”

“A nom de plume for London’s notorious Hell-Fire Club,” Caedmon informed her. “Rakes, lechers, and pornographers, the lot of them.”

“Talk about the secret life of Benjamin Franklin. Although we’re still very much in the dark as to the relic’s whereabouts.”

“According to his confession, Franklin whisked the Emerald Tablet off to the colonies.” He banged the table with a balled fist. “Damn the man!”

“Being a Freemason, Benjamin Franklin knew all about Francis Bacon’s scheme to use the Emerald Tablet to create a utopian society. A hundred and fifty years after Bacon’s death, the plot was still very much on the front burner.” Edie lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. As though suddenly aware that they were discussing a centuries-old mystery in the middle of an Internet café. “Franklin knew that the English aristocracy had plans to create a benevolent tyranny run by intellectual elites. Moreover, they intended to use the Emerald Tablet to achieve their despotic ends. Deny it all you want, but that is the beating heart of Bacon’s New Atlantis.”

Caedmon placed his right hand over his heart and gazed heavenward. “Thank God for Dr. Franklin! The great American hero who fought the evil English elites with a kite in one hand and the Emerald Tablet in the other.”

“Make mock if you will, but Benjamin Franklin believed that ‘rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.’ ”

Well aware that Americans tended to be a tetchy lot when it came to their civil liberties, Sic Semper Tyrannis and all that, he altered course. “Given that Franklin was an avowed Deist, I’m not the least bit surprised that he’s so disdainful of the occult rituals observed at Medmenham Abbey.”

Edie snapped two sugar packets to and fro before tearing them open and pouring the contents into a cup of coffee, her third of the day. “I seem to recall that quite a few of the American Founding Fathers were Deists. Wasn’t it a religious movement that came about in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries?”

“The Deists were spawned during the Enlightenment,” he verified with a nod. “Nominally Christian, the Deists were convinced that God not only created the universe, but at the same time he devised the laws of nature. Indeed, one can only know God through reason and observation of the natural world. Not through miracles or prophecy or otherworldly voices emanating from the Ark of the Covenant.”

About to raise her coffee cup to her lips, Edie lowered it to the table instead. “Makes perfect sense that a dyed-in-the-wool Deist like Benjamin Franklin would be horrified by the notion of using the Emerald Tablet to tap into the mind of God in order to create the perfect society. Given everything he’d heard and witnessed, he suspected the relic contained the so-called Genesis code. And it scared the hell out of him.”

“Franklin came of age during the Enlightenment, and like his Deist brethren, he was convinced that God graced mankind with intellect,” Caedmon said, giving voice to a deep-held belief of his as well. “By employing our God-given intellect, we can create and fashion a world based upon the tenants of reason and natural law. A whole different type of creation altogether.”

“Yeah, the safe kind. As in no Big Bang.” Edie pointedly glanced at the yellow sheets of paper. “Last night, Rubin mentioned that Thoth brought the Emerald Tablet to Egypt from Atlantis. Do you think the Emerald Tablet had something to do with the destruction of Atlantis?”

“Mmmm . . . an interesting question. The few references to Atlantis in the ancient records claim that the entire continent was obliterated from the earth. That said, it is possible that the Genesis code contained within the Emerald Tablet triggered the catastrophe.”

“It would only take one exploding atom to do the trick.” Edie shuddered. “Franklin was afraid of what would happen if the Freemasons found the encryption key and decoded the pictograph.”

“Indeed.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Your Benjamin Franklin is proving a difficult circle to square.”

“Might have been nice if he had left a clue as to where he intended to take the Emerald Tablet once he left London.”

“I believe that he did.” With his index finger, Caedmon drew Edie’s attention to several lines of text. “Franklin writes, ‘I propose to take Thoth’s stone to the City nearest the Centre to that place where men strive to improve the common stock of Knowledge so that all may prosper in mind as well as spirit.’ Without question, it’s a clue as to where Dr. Franklin intended to take the Emerald Tablet.”

Edie rolled her eyes. “Good luck finding that location on a Rand McNally map.”

He studied the last page of Franklin’s missive. Selection made, he said, “These two phrases look promising: ‘the City nearest the Centre’ and ‘the common stock of Knowledge.’ ” He quickly typed both phrases into an Internet search engine.

“In one way or another, it always comes back to ‘knowledge,’ doesn’t it?”

“The glue that binds one century to the next. Well, well. We have a hit,” he announced. At seeing the two phrases pop up in the same online document, he experienced a surge of optimism. “It seems that the wise sage used those same phrases in a written proposal dating to 1743.” He quickly skimmed the text that had come up on the screen. “In this document Franklin states his intention to found an organization in Philadelphia, that ‘being the City nearest the Centre of the Continent-Colonies, ’ to be known as the American Philosophical Society.”

Edie picked up where he left off. “The aim of which was to ‘cultivate the finer Arts, and improve the common stock of Knowledge.’ ” She glanced at him. “Sounds like the American Philosophical Society was supposed to be the colonial counterpart of the Royal Society.”

He quickly typed “American Philosophical Society” into the search engine. “And still is,” he informed her, grinning. One step closer.

Scooting her metal folding chair closer to the table, Edie excitedly pointed to the Web page he’d just pulled up. “Ohmygosh! You’re right. The American Philosophical Society, founded by Benjamin Franklin in 1743, is still a going concern with a library, archives, and a very extensive Franklin Collection. Oh, and get this: It’s located in the old historic district of Philadelphia right next to Independence Hall.” When he raised a quizzical brow, she elaborated. “That’s where the Second Continental Congress convened in May 1775 and where, fourteen months later, Ben Franklin and the rest of the Founding Fathers signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776.”

“Mmmm . . . interesting.” For several seconds he pondered the significance of the Emerald Tablet being hidden in the same colonial city where the American rebels so famously put pen to paper, formalizing their break with Great Britain. “According to The Book of Moses, Franklin intended to establish a protectorate, ‘the Triad’ as he called it, to ensure that the Emerald Tablet never fell into the hands of those who would exploit it for personal gain.”

“So, when do we leave for Philly?”

He smiled. How well she knows me.

“I’ll check the online travel agency to see when the next flight—” He stopped in midsentence, suddenly hearing the refrain from the 1980s song “Karma Chameleon.” The offending sound emanating from his anorak pocket.

“I never took you for being a Boy George fan.”

“I’m not.” Rummaging in his pocket, he removed an unfamiliar mobile phone, belatedly realizing that what they were hearing was the ring tone. Wondering how the bright red mobile found its way into his pocket, he took the call. Except it wasn’t a call. It was an incoming video.

“Hey, that looks exactly like Rubin’s boudoir,” Edie said, leaning over his shoulder. “In fact, there’s Rubin’s big four-poster bed with—Oh, my God!”

“What the bloody—” His heart slammed against his chest as he saw Rubin, stark naked, standing on a Tudor stool beside an ornately carved wood post. A long black cord was looped around his neck, the other end wrapped around the top of the four-poster bed.

Tears streaming down his face, Rubin stared directly at the camera. “Vater, ich liebe dich.”

A split second later, a second person, seen only from behind, walked over and kicked the stool out from under Rubin’s feet. He dropped nearly a foot. Body convulsing. Feet dangling.

Edie screamed.

Caedmon forcefully shoved the mobile into her hand. “Dial 999. Tell the police to go to Woolf’s Antiquarian Books in Cecil Court. And for God’s sake, don’t leave the café!” he yelled over his shoulder as he ran toward the door.