Charles Brokaw - The Lucifer Code

‘We didn’t know you were in jeopardy until yesterday,’ the young man said.

‘You didn’t know Qayin would kidnap me?’

‘No. It wasn’t until his lackeys were recognized that we knew of Qayin’s involvement.’

‘Qayin thought I might be able to decipher the book and your people didn’t?’

‘Sorry, but no, we didn’t.’

Lourds emitted a displeased grunt.

‘Please don’t take that as a slight against your ability, Professor,’ the young man said. ‘We’ve had people working on that book for generations. During those years, my superiors have come to the conclusion that we weren’t waiting for an individual to translate that text. We were waiting for a time.’

Somewhat mollified, Lourds nodded. ‘You think now is the time?’

‘We are prepared to wait and see. And to allow you your chance with the book. When we found Qayin’s hiding place and discovered that you were able to translate portions of the book, it was decided that perhaps the time might be now.’ The young man glanced out of the window but Lourds knew he wasn’t seeing anything out there. His mind was elsewhere.

‘Qayin must have had a higher estimation of my abilities than you,’ Lourds said.

‘Perhaps.’ The young man glanced at Lourds again. ‘Or perhaps he was merely more desperate.’

‘I suppose there’s no slight intended in that observation either.’

‘No. I apologize. I’m used to being very blunt in matters concerning that book.’

The cab slowed, then pulled into the entrance lane of the Eserin Crown Hotel. A liveried expediter stepped up to the side of the cab and opened the door for Lourds. The man was professional enough to only look askance at the professor’s dishevelled appearance for a moment.

‘Good morning, sir,’ the expediter greeted. ‘Welcome to the Eserin Crown Hotel.’

‘Good morning,’ Lourds responded. ‘Thank you.’

‘Do you have any bags?’

Lourds almost laughed. Had the situation been funny, he might have. ‘No, I suppose I don’t.’ That was going to be a problem. He turned back to the young man in the cab. ‘Will I see you again?’

‘That remains to be seen.’ He extended a hand. ‘Good luck, Professor. I hope you’re successful in your endeavour. In any event, we will be in touch.’

Lourds didn’t know if he was supposed to feel threatened, but he did. Having nothing else to say, he closed the cab’s door and stepped back. The cab driver cruised sedately into the traffic. The young man glanced back through the window and waved in a purely innocent gesture.

Lourds waved back and felt immediately stupid. He turned to the expediter. ‘I suppose the hotel has good security?’

‘Of course, sir. Only the very best.’

‘And someone on site?’

The expediter looked at Lourds curiously. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Very good.’ Lourds allowed the man to open the door for him and stepped into an elegant foyer. Guests and staff stared at him as though he were a street person. He had to admit that, with torn clothing and covered in dirt, he would have easily passed muster as one of those.

Gathering his dignity, Lourds approached the check-in desk. A beautiful young woman in a business suit looked up at him and politely said hello. Lourds gave her his name. The young woman’s face brightened immediately, but it was clearly a struggle. Lourds was certain she was probably downwind of him.

‘Ah, of course. Professor Lourds,’ the young woman said brightly. ‘We had expected you yesterday.’

‘I take it you haven’t been watching the news.’

The young woman gazed at him blankly. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I was delayed,’ Lourds replied. ‘It was in the news.’

‘Sorry. I must have missed it.’ She made quick entries into the computer and asked for a credit card against room expenses. ‘Would you need one key or two?’

‘One, thank you.’ Lourds took the proffered key and headed for the elevator bank.

‘Oh, Professor Lourds,’ the desk clerk called.

‘Yes?’

‘You’ll find your bags are already in your room.’

‘Really? Who delivered them?’

The clerk shrugged and looked at her computer. ‘The screen doesn’t say. Only that the bags were delivered yesterday afternoon.’

Lourds thanked her and took the elevator up to his room. You really shouldn’t be doing this, he thought. If you had any sense, you’d take a taxi to the airport and board the first flight back to Boston that you could get.

But he knew he wasn’t going to do that. The mystery of the book was calling out to him.

Outside his room door, Lourds hesitated with the electronic keycard in hand. Cold fear shivered through him and nausea twisted his stomach. He really wasn’t prepared for anything like this.

Despite his efforts to find lost Atlantis, and all the dangers he’d faced then, he wasn’t mentally or physically suited for the rigours of getting shot at and beaten. Those were experiences he much preferred to read about in the thrillers he relished. He was a simple man, really.

With his hands shaking the way they were, it took three attempts to get the keycard through the reader. The lock clicked and the light flashed green, indicating the door was open. Lourds eased into the room slowly and carefully, listening for the slightest noise. He spotted his luggage at the foot of the king-sized bed. The sight of the bed alone enticed him into the darkened room. He stripped out of the backpack and dropped it on to the room’s desk.

A mirror hung over the desk. When Lourds flipped on the nearby light and sought to check the damage done to his face, he saw the reflection of a man sitting comfortably in a chair beside the bed. Lourds hadn’t been able to see the man until it was too late.

He span round and headed for the exit, pausing only long enough to snag the backpack. Before he reached the door, it opened and a large man filled the doorway. The man stepped into the room and Lourds backed up.

‘Ah, Professor Lourds, I presume.’ The man in the chair beside the bed smiled apologetically. ‘I beg your indulgence. I feel like Stanley meeting Doctor Livingstone.’

Lourds stood his ground when the big man stopped advancing. The room was on the fourth floor. Even if he were able to crash through the reinforced glass of the window, when that shattered, he wouldn’t survive the fall.

‘I understood the reference,’ Lourds said.

The man smiled. ‘I knew you would. I don’t often get to talk to people so well educated in my line of work.’

‘Maybe you should tell me what your line of work is. Other than breaking and entering into hotel rooms.’

‘Oh, I didn’t break and enter, Professor. I had an invitation.’ The man reached under his jacket, and the brief movement revealed the pistol residing in the shoulder holster tucked neatly under his arm. ‘I have a legal document that allowed me to enter. I assume your Turkish is good?’

‘My Turkish is fantastic.’ Lourds took the document the man held out and glanced at it.

‘I assure you, Professor, you’ll find everything is in order.’

Lourds looked over the top of the document at the man. ‘You’re a policeman?’

The man spread his hands and smiled. ‘A detective, actually. Detective Dilek Ersoz at your service.’ He inclined his head slightly. ‘And I’m a fan. I enjoyed your Atlantis book and some of your other analytical treatises. And my wife continues to sing praises of Bedroom Pursuits.’

‘Can’t ever have too many fans, according to my publishers.’ Lourds handed the document back. ‘I assume you’re not here about an autograph. The last one I signed didn’t turn out so well.’

‘An autograph would be most excellent at some point,’ Ersoz replied. ‘Sadly, this is not that point.’