The Ben Hope Collection: 6 BOOK SET. Scott Mariani

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СКАЧАТЬ of white-painted walls and strong neons. They steered him up another flight of steps, along a corridor and through a door into an office.

      At the far end of the office, a large grave-looking man in a suit rose from behind a glass-topped desk. Ben was nudged in the back by a machine-gun barrel, shoving him across the room.

      ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Bishop Usberti.’

      Usberti’s broad, tanned face broke into a smile. He spoke with a heavy Italian accent. ‘I am impressed. But it is Archbishop now.’ He motioned to Ben to sit in one of the leather chairs by the desk, opened a cabinet and took out two cut-crystal brandy glasses and a bottle of Rémy Martin. ‘Would you like a drink?’

      ‘How civilized of you, Archbishop.’

      ‘I would not like you to think we treat our guests badly,’ Usberti replied graciously as he poured them each a generous measure and dismissed the guards with an authoritative gesture of his free hand. He caught Ben’s eye as he watched the guards leave the room. ‘I hope I can trust you not to try any of your tricks while we speak in private,’ he said, handing Ben his glass. ‘Please remember that there is a gun pointed at Dr. Ryder’s head at this very moment.’

      Ben didn’t show any glimmer of response. ‘Congratulations on your promotion,’ he said instead. ‘I see you left your garb at home.’

      ‘I should be the one to congratulate you,’ Usberti replied. ‘You have the Fulcanelli manuscript, do you not?’

      ‘Yes, I do,’ Ben said. He swirled the cognac around in the glass. ‘Now why don’t you let Dr. Ryder go free?’

      Usberti laughed, a deep rumble. ‘Go free? My plan was to have her killed once I had the manuscript.’

      ‘You kill her, I’ll kill you,’ Ben said quietly.

      ‘I said my plan was to kill her,’ Usberti replied. ‘I have changed my mind about that.’ He swivelled his glass on the desktop, watching Ben curiously. ‘I have also decided not to have you killed, Mr. Hope. Subject to certain conditions, I should add.’

      ‘That’s very magnanimous.’

      ‘Not at all. A man like you can be useful to me.’ Usberti smiled coldly. ‘Though I will confess it took me a while to see it. At first I watched in rage as, one by one, you threw off my men and all my attempts to dispose of you and Ryder. You have proved hard to kill. So hard, that I began to think that such a man is too valuable not to turn to one’s own advantage. I want you to come and work for me.’

      ‘You mean work for Gladius Domini?’

      Usberti nodded. ‘I have great plans for Gladius Domini. You can be a part of those plans. I will make you a rich man. Come with me, Mr. Hope. Let us take a walk.’

      Ben followed him out of the office into the corridor. The armed guards were flanking the door, and walked a few paces behind them, their weapons trained on Ben. They stopped at a lift. Usberti pressed the button and from somewhere below them there was a whoosh of hydraulics.

      ‘Tell me, Usberti. What does all this have to do with the Fulcanelli manuscript? Why are you so interested in it?’ The lift doors opened with a whirr and they stepped in, the guards still following.

      ‘Oh, I have been interested in alchemy for many, many years,’ Usberti replied. He reached out with a blunt finger and prodded the button for the ground floor.

      ‘Why?’ Ben asked. ‘To suppress it because it was heresy?’

      Usberti chuckled to himself. ‘Is that what you think? On the contrary, I wish to make use of it.’

      The lift came to a smooth halt and they stepped out. Ben looked around him. They were in a large brightly lit science lab operated by some fifteen or so technicians who were busily attending to scientific equipment, writing up charts and sitting at computer terminals, all wearing white labcoats and the same serious expression.

      ‘Welcome to the Gladius Domini alchemical research facility,’ Usberti said, with a wide gesture. ‘As you see, it is a little more sophisticated than Dr. Ryder’s establishment. My teams of scientists work in shifts, all around the clock.’ He took Ben’s elbow and led him around the edge of the lab. The muzzles of the machine guns were still carefully trained on him.

      ‘Let me tell you a little about alchemy, Mr. Hope,’ Usberti continued. ‘I do not suppose you have ever heard of an organization called the Watchmen?’

      ‘Actually I have.’

      Usberti raised his eyebrows. ‘You are remarkably well-informed, Mr. Hope. Then you will know that the Watchmen were an élite group in Paris, formed after the First World War. One of their members was a certain Nicholas Daquin.’

      ‘Fulcanelli’s apprentice.’

      ‘Indeed. As you may know, then, this brilliant young man learned that his teacher had discovered something of enormous importance.’ Usberti paused. ‘There was another member of the Watchmen who was interested in Fulcanelli’s discovery,’ he went on. ‘His name was Rudolf Hess.’

53

      At that moment the man known to certain people only as Saul parked his Mazda two-seater convertible outside an old empty warehouse on the outer edge of Paris. The night was cool. The stars twinkled above the city lights. He checked the time and kicked his feet, waiting.

      The briefcase in his hand was filled with banknotes amounting to a quarter million US dollars, the sum the caller had demanded in exchange for what he claimed to possess: the Englishman Ben Hope, captured, bound and gagged. Usberti would be pleased when he found out what Saul had got for him.

      Naturally, the money was counterfeit, obtained from one of Saul’s Gladius Domini sub-agents. The cash was only a diversion anyway. Even though it was fake, Saul had no intention of handing it over to anyone. In a concealed holster under his jacket was a compact .45 auto. He intended to make use of it once he’d picked up the goods. Or if it should turn out that there weren’t any.

      Saul still couldn’t figure out this business with Michel Zardi. They seemed to have underestimated him. First he’d managed to evade assassination, then he’d somehow contrived to lure several of Saul’s best men to their deaths, and now he was claiming to be holding the Englishman Ben Hope? He never would have imagined that a little nerd like Zardi had that much guts and talent.

      But if this was some kind of trick, he wouldn’t get away this time. And in case Zardi had friends with him, Saul had already taken care of it. A sniper armed with a night-scoped Parker-Hale 7.62mm rifle had been posted on the roof of the warehouse immediately after he’d got the call.

      A minute or two went by, and then Saul heard the sound of an engine. He watched as the headlights wound up through the industrial estate and approached the warehouse. The rusty Nissan van pulled up beside his Mazda. The driver wasn’t Michel Zardi. It was a little fat man with a moustache and flat cap. Perhaps he was one of Zardi’s cronies, Saul thought.

      ‘You Saul?’ the man asked, getting out of the van.

      ‘Where’s Hope?’

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