Templar's Code

CHAPTER 66

“I think I know the names of the other two Triad members,” Edie blurted without preamble, setting a large leather-bound book on the library table.

Caedmon glanced up from the computer. “Indeed?”

“Yes, indeedy. But first a quick American history lesson.” Cheeks flushed with impassioned color, she shoved her hand into her jeans pocket and removed a crumpled one-dollar bill, which she slapped onto the tabletop, backside on display. “This is the Great Seal of the United States that was approved by Congress in the year 1782.” With her index finger, she indicated the two circular medallions that adorned the left and right side of the note.

His curiosity piqued, Caedmon examined the familiar green-and-white bill, American currency famous the world over. “I’ve always been fascinated with the blatant esoteric symbolism engraved on your paper money,” he remarked, his attentive gaze landing on the unfinished pyramid, the Latin mottoes, and the All-Seeing Eye. The last had become something of a perennial bloom, the ancient symbol popping up with disturbing frequency.

“According to the library docent, between the years 1776 and 1782, three separate congressional committees submitted design ideas for the Great Seal of the United States. Congress rejected all three designs.”

“And what does this have to do with our signatories?” Next to the laptop was the list of prime suspects: the thirteen members of the American Philosophical Society, all of whom were signatories to the Declaration of Independence.

“Well, it just so happens that the first of the three Great Seal committees was formed on July 4, 1776, the very day that the Declaration of Independence was signed. And guess what? The 1776 committee recommended that the country’s new motto should be ‘Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.’ ”

Hearing that, his heart rate spiked, Edie having just spilled a bag of gilded beans. Again, he glanced at the list that they’d compiled, wondering if any of the members of the American Philosophical Society had been on the 1776 Great Seal committee.

“Now this is where the story gets really interesting.” Opening the volume she’d brought with her, Edie quickly flipped through the pages. “This book contains the minutes of the Continental Congress for the year 1776. The librarian was kind enough to pull it from the stacks.” A few moments later, excitedly tapping an open page, she drew his attention to two printed lines of text. “Look! There it is! The official congressional entry: ‘Resolved, that Dr. Franklin, Mr. J. Adams, and Mr. Jefferson, be a committee, to bring in a device for a seal for the United States of America.’ ”

“My God . . . I don’t bloody believe it.”

Edie turned to him, beaming. “Unless I’m greatly mistaken, we have our three Triad members.” Grabbing a pencil, she circled three names on their handwritten list: Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and Thomas Jefferson. “As you can see, all three men were members of the American Philosophical Society.”

“Adams and Jefferson . . . the catheti to Franklin’s hypotenuse,” he murmured, recalling a line from The Book of Moses.

“In 1776, Franklin became a septuagenarian. Old by any man’s measure. In youthful contrast, Adams was forty-one years of age, Jefferson a mere thirty-three,” Edie remarked, fast proving herself a fount. “Both men were young enough to do the physical legwork to safeguard the Emerald Tablet.”

“Without question, Franklin snared the best of a very fine lot.”

“While I can’t lay claim to being an expert in American history, I do know that Franklin, Jefferson, and Adams also served on the committee that wrote the Declaration of Independence, the famous document having the input of all three men. And, here’s the real kicker”—she dramatically paused to ensure his full attention—“to a man, they were dyed-in-the-wool Deists.”

“Advocating the light of reason, the hidden stream of knowledge consigned to history’s trash heap.” Hit with a guilty twinge, he glanced at the silver signet on his right ring finger. “Franklin’s committee must have submitted a design for the Great Seal. Do you by any chance know if there’s a record of it?”

Broadly grinning, she pulled a single sheet of loose paper from the volume’s inside cover. “One step ahead of you, Big Red. I had the librarian photocopy this and”—she slapped the sheet in front of him—“guess what? The Triad put the All-Seeing Eye on the design!”

Astounded, his jaw slackened.

As with the emblems on the back of the dollar bill, there were two separate drawings, constituting the front and the back of the proposed Great Seal. On the face side were Lady Liberty and Lady Justice crowned with the All-Seeing Eye. On the reverse, a detailed drawing of Moses parting the Red Sea emblazoned with Franklin’s catchphrase ‘Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.’ The gratin on the casserole.

“Do you think the Moses reference has anything to do with Franklin’s espionage activity in London?” Edie asked, her attention also drawn to the biblical scene. “After all, Moses was his code name.”

“Rather tongue-in-cheek, don’t you think? I suspect the biblical scene has more to do with the ragtag American colonies severing their ties with the English monarch. This design was, after all, conceived shortly after the Declaration had been signed. Shackles shucked, the Americans will now venture forth to find the Promised Land.”

“I don’t know about you, but there’s no doubt in my mind that the 1776 Great Seal is one of Franklin’s ‘signposts.’ ”

“Mmmm . . . an intriguing notion.” Transfixed, he stared at the photocopied seal as he wrapped his mind around the various pieces of the puzzle.

“What I don’t get is this business about the All-Seeing Eye. As Deists, Franklin, Jefferson, and Adams spurned the superstition and ritual of the ancient religions. So why include a symbol on the Great Seal that so brazenly harkens to Thoth, the Radiant Light of Aten, and the hidden stream of knowledge?”

“It does add ‘a precious seeing to the eye.’ Perhaps the All-Seeing Eye is a red herring,” he suggested.

Edie nodded. “For nearly fifty years, Franklin had the Bacon frontispiece in his possession. Not to mention, he was the grand master of the Philadelphia Lodge. Knowing the All-Seeing Eye was highly symbolic within esoteric circles, he could have used the symbol as a smokescreen. He knew the Freemasons would be searching high and low for the stolen relic, so he cloaked himself in the magi’s mantle. ‘Don’t look at me. I didn’t steal it. I’m a Freemason in good standing.’ ” She chuckled. “You’re right. Benjamin Franklin was a brilliant boffin.”

“And, as I recall, something of an amateur cryptologist.”

Edie grabbed a sharpened pencil and a blank sheet of paper. “Okay, where do we start?”

“Given that Dr. Franklin purposely hid The Book of Moses, we must assume that is the first signpost. What connects the secret missive to the proposal for the 1776 Great Seal is—”

“ ‘Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God,’ ” she interjected, transcribing the motto onto the sheet of paper. “Making it the second signpost.”

“Perhaps.” Unlike Edie—who tended to hurl herself at a conclusion—he preferred a more circumspect approach. “There’s a possibility that the phrase is an anagram.”

“Oh, I get it. You think the letters of the motto can be rearranged to make another phrase.”

He grabbed a pencil and began scribbling several word combinations. “We’ll need to shake the tree and see if any fruit falls from the limb.”

“I like God and stone,” Edie said, leaning over his shoulder to examine the list.

“As do I.” He stared at the remaining twenty-six letters, wondering if they’d undertaken an impossible task. “This may take some time.”

It did. Three hours and fourteen minutes, to be precise. As well as four sharpened pencils and ten sheets of paper.

Physically exhausted and mentally drained, Caedmon turned to Edie. “Well, what do you think? I know, it’s not perfect.”

REBELLION TO TYRANTS

IS OBEDIENCE TO GOD

=

BIBLICIL ATEN STONE TO

GODS EYE DO NOT ERR

Caedmon underscored the first word with his finger. “This may be an archaic or variant spelling of the word biblical.”

Edie chuckled. “Personally? I think it’s a colonial typo.”

“Whether it’s a typo or a variant spelling, I think we found our second ‘signpost.’ ”

“I agree,” his partner enthused. “The ‘biblicil aten stone’ obviously refers to the Emerald Tablet, which used to be kept in the Ark of the Covenant. And ‘Gods eye’ is clearly a reference to the All-Seeing Eye. Together, they form a flashing neon signpost that leads to . . .” Edie frowned, her voice trailing into silence.

“As you have just surmised, we’ve reached an impasse.”

Because without a bloody map, the newly discovered signpost was meaningless.