The Prophecy

60

Louis Keller lived in a nice chalet near the University of Lausanne where he had taught business and economics for the past decade. With its steeply sloped roof and its overhanging eaves, his timber house looked like many others in the quiet neighbourhood. Of course, looks could be deceiving, which was why Payne and Jones studied the nearby streets before they were willing to park their SUV near Keller’s home.

Snowflakes filled the air as the four of them walked up the stone steps of his front porch. Payne led the way, followed by Megan, Ulster, and Jones, who lingered several strides behind with a pistol in his hand. Payne was armed as well, but kept his weapon concealed as he approached the house. Since they still weren’t sure how Keller fitted into all of this, the last thing Payne wanted to do was spook the guy and have him clam up before they got the answers they were looking for. That is, if Keller even had any answers.

A half second before Payne could knock on the door, he heard the lock being opened from the inside and the security chain being jostled. Unsure who it might be, Payne raised his closed fist in the air, the military signal to halt. Everyone behind him stopped as if a cold wind had blown in from the nearby mountains and turned them into ice. For the next few seconds, the tension continued to build until the door finally swung open.

A middle-aged man wearing a sweater, slacks, and slippers stood in the doorway. He neither smiled nor frowned, his face a blank mask, his eyes devoid of emotion. He stared at the foursome in front of him, not the least bit surprised they were there. Strangely, his gaze sought them out, one after another, as if he was trying to match their faces to names he had known for years. A moment later, his comment seemed to confirm that.

‘I was told you were coming,’ Keller said in English.

‘By whom?’ Payne wondered.

‘Nostradamus.’

With that, he turned around and walked back inside his house, leaving his door open so they could enter. Confused by the remark, Payne glanced over his shoulder and shrugged, not completely sure what they should do. Surprisingly, Megan was the first one to react. She had come too far and had too many questions to wait any longer. Without asking for permission, she wiped her feet on the mat and walked inside where she spotted Keller standing in front of a roaring fire. He signalled for her to sit on the couch, and then waited for the others to follow.

One by one, they entered the house without saying a word. Payne roamed the ground floor searching for anything that troubled him, but his gut told him they weren’t in danger. In fact, for the first time for several days, he felt their path was free of obstacles. Like their quest had finally come to an end. Like they were meant to be there.

In an unpredictable world, it was a feeling Payne wasn’t used to.

Keller waited for him to join his friends before he spoke again. When he did, there were no introductions or small talk. He launched into an explanation, starting with some background information about himself.

‘I am not a whimsical man,’ Keller informed them. ‘I don’t like literature, I don’t watch movies, and I never play games. For as long as I can remember, I have loved the structure of numbers. To me, they are the only constant in my life, the one thing I can depend on. Numbers never lie. They are always black and white, never grey, and somehow I find comfort in that.’

Keller walked across the room and sat in a worn leather chair that looked older than he was. Brushing the hair away from his eyes, he took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, as if he could finally relax now that his guests knew he wasn’t fanciful or the least bit crazy. Seemingly, that was important to him. He needed everyone to know he was a rational man with rational thoughts, not some random loon who searched for Bigfoot in his spare time.

‘Thirty-two years ago, my father drove me to Geneva under false pretences. He told me we were going to the city to celebrate my twentieth birthday. Instead, he took me to the bank and added my name to his safe-deposit box. At least I thought it was his box. Later in the day, he told me that wasn’t the case. It was our family box and would be until December of this year.’

He glanced around the room, making eye contact with everyone.

‘On our drive home, my father explained that one of our forefathers, a man named Maurice Keller, had been given a sealed wooden box for safekeeping. As long as he protected it and never opened it, he would be compensated for his time and effort. Furthermore, he was told the same arrangement would hold true for future generations of Kellers. If we followed a simple set of instructions, we would be paid an annual stipend to offset any inconvenience that we incurred.’

Keller stood again and began to pace about the room. ‘At first, I was annoyed by it all. My father had the only key, and said he would keep it until it was supposed to be mine. I had no idea what he meant by that and even resented him for it. Why had he wasted half my birthday to drag me to some bank in Geneva? None of it made any sense. I just thought it was a stupid game, a silly bonding moment between father and son.’ He paused for an instant, gathering his thoughts. ‘A few months later when I was off at school, my father passed away from pancreatic cancer.’ His voice cracked slightly. ‘I never even knew he was sick.’

Nothing was said for the next minute or two. No one knew what to say, including Keller, who walked back across the hardwood floor and collapsed onto his chair. After that, the only sound in the room was the soft crackling of the fire.

Eventually, it was Megan who got things started again.

‘What happened then?’ she asked.

‘Then I waited,’ Keller said bitterly. ‘For thirty-two years, I waited. And do you know why I waited? Because that’s what I was told to do. My father didn’t even have the decency to tell me he was dying, but he made damn sure he wrote a letter explaining what was expected of me. He left me a key and a letter, yet he never even said goodbye. How pathetic is that? Do you know how many times I wanted to destroy that box just to spite him? If it had been kept in Lausanne instead of Geneva, I probably would have done it. I would have gone to the bank in a fit of anger and smashed it with a hammer.’ He shook his head in frustration. ‘In the end, I always talked myself out of it because of the money. The yearly stipend always came in handy during the holidays.’

Payne had several questions about the trust fund. How much was Keller paid? Who handled the payments? How did the keepers of the fund know he had followed his instructions? But in the end, he realized there were more important issues to focus on, starting with the obvious.

‘Out of curiosity, what happened on December the first?’

Keller smiled at the question. Relief filled his face. He was thrilled to be finished talking about his father and eager to discuss the contents of the mysterious box.