Chapter Four
Agent Sadusky tossed his reading glasses onto the desk and took a sip from what could easily have been his fifth cup of coffee for the day. Things in the FBI building had calmed down some after his team had recovered Nathaniel's body and the coroner identified the cause of death as a gun misfire. The forensics team had determined that the gun had indeed misfired, in something that looked, in his mind, a hell of a lot like a freak accident.
At first he couldn't fully believe it when the team reported they'd found the body in the very room in which the Templar Treasure was found, but what he'd found equally astonishing was the fact that they reported that the floor seemed to have been used as a giant canvas, all to point to a singular inscription: 'The wisdom always refers to the beginning'. It also seemed to be the very inscription the body had been found near. All pieces of a puzzle he had only a very vague hope of solving, without Gates' help, of course.
He fished his phone out of the breast pocket in his jacket, flipped it open, and dialled a number. He pressed the phone to his ear and listened to the ringing, waiting for someone to pick up. When no one did, he sighed, snapped his phone shut, and tossed it onto the desk, alongside his coffee cup, reading glasses, and the evening paper he'd been reading. It wasn't like the evening news had anything in it that he wasn't aware of already on some level.
His cell phone rang, and he answered almost immediately. "FBI. Agent Sadusky."
"You called?" Ben asked from the other end of the line.
"Gates, I know you really like puzzles. Whaddaya know about this one?"
"Whaddaya need to know?"
"I just have a few questions that I need answers to, is all."
"Okay, shoot."
NTNT
Ian walked down the second floor hallway slowly, staring absently into space. Finally, he stopped at a door which looked like it hadn't been opened in years, and honestly, it hadn't. For a long moment, he studied the door before finally reaching out and grasping the doorknob. It felt cold to the touch, and when he turned it, it creaked softly. Even so, the door itself was unlocked, and he pushed it open. The hinges also creaked softly, and the door cut a solid arc in a carpet covered with dust.
He studied the two-bed room beyond the threshold. It seemed as if every surface he could see was covered in a thick layer of dust, and it seemed as if the air was also very heavy with dust. Some of the dust drifted out into the hallway as he'd opened the door, even. He took a deep breath, coughed on some of the dust in the air, and stepped over the threshold.
Despite the sense that the room hadn't seen anyone walk through the door in only God knows how long, for the most part, walking inside felt normal to Ian. He even shut the door behind him, as he used to do. He coughed on inhaling the dusty air, but he recovered himself soon enough.
Besides being dusty, the room was in precisely the same condition in which he'd left it five years prior, when he thought he was going to return that night or within the week to straighten things out. Of course, some things had come up and he never got around to it or had the chance to, but what could one expect?
He took a few steps into the room and studied his surroundings, amazed at how exactly everything was placed, given the slight breeze coming from the window, which was open about half an inch. The curtains stirred, but they were the only inanimate thing to move throughout.
It was strange, finally returning to this room, especially given how long he's been out of prison, which, in retrospect, wasn't a long time calendar-wise, but it was good enough, at least for Ian. Here he stood, after almost two months, allowing thoughts to drift through his mind without recognition, absentmindedly watching the dust swirl through the air. Something else occurred to him, almost at random. He was almost certain he was being watched. It wasn't a bad thing, not in the least, but even so, he could feel it.
"Ian, phone call," Tanya called from the otehr side of the door.
"Not now," he replied.
"Rich and important associate from London."
Ian turned on his heel and was out the door just as fast as he thought about it, and he snatched the phone out of his sister's hand, taking a silent but deep breath of fresh air and readying himself for what was to come. "May I help you?"
NTNT
"Well, what I think all these are are pieces to a puzzle we're only just beginning to figure out," Ben said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees. "Did you say you talked to a Mr. O'Malley about this?"
"Yes, I did. He has a few suspicions about the Scottish Rite," Sadusky replied from the other end of the line. "However, the first United Grand Lodge was formed almost a century before the first Scottish Rite Lodge."
"So maybe it's not the Scottish Rite specifically, but Freemasonry in general."
"If that's true, then perhaps Mr. O'Malley is confusing the two."
"Or hiding something, trying to make us think something is true when something else entirely is the case."
"Where is this United Grand Lodge now, do you suppose?"
"Oh, best guess is somewhere in London."
"Good guess. I'm sure you or someone working with you has the address."
"If they do, I haven't heard about it, at least, not yet."
"You will. Believe me, you will."
NTNT
Riley stared at the note on his phone: 'Freemasons' Hall, Great Queen Street, London WC2B 5AZ'. For the most part, it looked meaningless, but he knew Ian and Tanya would almost instantly recognize at least the format, if not the actual address. Tanya had told him to save it, which meant it did mean something to her.
His phone beeped, forcing him to travel through all kinds of menus out of his notes to open the text message. 'anything else?' It was from Tanya, and all he could do was reply with, 'not yet, address mean something?'
'yes,' she replied. 'i've seen it before i can find it'
'think theres anything there?'
'god only knows'
'think your vision could still happen?'
'most likely, though it'll be a little different'
'because nathaniel's dead?'
'yeah'
Okay, so that's confirmed, he thought. Tanya definitely knew the address, which meant there was a possibility that Ian knew it, too. The problem was, did he need that address? Was it the answer? Well, it's worth a shot, he thought again, shrugging.
NTNT
"So, what'd he say?" Tanya asked as soon as Ian snapped his phone shut and set it on the dining room table. She herself leaned against the doorframe leading from the dining room to the living room, watching Ian.
"I need to be in London within the week," Ian replied.
"Fate smiles on us."
"Oh, does she? I always thought she mocked us."
"Are you allowed to stay?"
"Well, of course. It's part of the terms I've given him. I know Mr. Anderson won't be thrilled that I choose to stay in London for however long this takes, but he either deals with it or loses me as a client."
The corner of her mouth turned up in something of a smirk or half-smile. "So, Ian Howe manipulates his way into getting what he wants out of a treasure hunt yet again. I never thought I'd see it firsthand."
"There's a first time for everything, oh freakish sister of mine."
"Take a lesson, imbecile brother of mine."
He gave her a hard look but said nothing. Tanya checked her phone for any new messages and found none, allowing her to walk into the living room and search the DVD library. She picked a movie, turned on the television, and popped the disk in the player, certain the next two to three hours would be absolutely mind-numbing.