The Cathari Treasure (Cameron Kincaid) (4 page)

Marie brought the mirrored visor
down to check herself.  She wiped the sleep from her eyes with her
fingertip then began combing her fingers through her hair.  In the
mirror’s reflection Marie saw Nicole.

Nicole sat silent in the
backseat.

“You are awake.  Where is
he?” asked Marie.

“Mister Kincaid went into the
market to get us something to eat.”  Nicole smoothed the fabric of her
skirt.  “Is he a good man Marie?”

“I don’t know,” Marie answered
quickly.

“Can we trust him?”

“We will need to,” said
Marie.  She let out a slow sigh, “At least a bit more.  We are almost
safe.”

Marie fastened her hair back and
then opened the lid of the console where the cell phone had been charging to
find the compartment empty.  Cameron had taken the phone with him.

Marie opened the door and
stepped out of the car.

“Come, stretch your legs.”

* * *
* *

Cameron picked up an orange then
gently squeezed the fruit.  He placed the orange back on the stand and
went on to inspect the next.  Cameron’s other hand fished through his
jacket pocket.  The cell phone had settled deep in the pocket and could
not be grasped without removing the long thin dagger he had taken from the
assassin the night before.  While Cameron negotiated the pocket he placed
an orange in his basket beside two others and the apples and bananas picked
from the produce racks outside.

Cameron decided to remove the
dagger from his inside pocket.  He flashed his eyes across the market to
see if anyone was watching then slid the dagger partially up his cuff. 
Then Cameron lifted the dagger from his jacket, cupping the blade as he brought
long knife to his chest.  Cameron glanced down then slowly twisted the
dagger to see the detailed inscription.

Inscribed on the length of the
blade was a Latin phrase Cameron could only partially decipher.

Neither hand free, Cameron
balanced the groceries on a short table that was stacked with potatoes and then
awkwardly twisted the hand that had held the groceries into the lapel of his
jacket and down into the deep pocket to get the phone.  Cameron latched
onto the cell with the tips of his middle and index fingers.  When the
phone was safely retrieved Cameron tapped the screen twice to speed dial
Claude.

“Cameron, are you ok?” asked
Claude.

“I’m fine, we’re fine.  I
have them here in Boston.  I plan on taking them to the safe house and
then I’m heading back to New York.”

“Whoever they are, they are very
serious.  By the time I got off the phone with you last night the library
was clean and empty.  They even fixed the windows.”

“Huh, I’m glad somebody
did.  Hey, how is your Latin?”

“Rusty, why?”

“The assassin had a
dagger.  I borrowed it from him.”  Cameron again glanced down at the
blade.  “It has an inscription on it that reads ‘Caedite eos!  Novit
enim Dominus qui sunt eius.’  You know what that means?”

Claude was silent.

Cameron tilted the concealed
dagger into the light, “I know the first part, ‘Kill them all’.  I’m not
sure about the rest.”

“Kill them all,” said Claude,
his voice was soft, “yes, I know this.  In French, it is Tuez-les tous,
Dieu reconnaîtra les siens.  The rest reads, ‘Surely the Lord discerns
which ones are his’, or something like it.”

“I don’t think that guy was
Special Forces.  If he was, he was sloppy.”

“This is older than the special
forces.  The Cistercian monk, Arnuad Amaury, said this before the massacre
at Beziers.  20,000 people were slaughtered, in search of a few hundred.”

“Beziers, wasn’t that the
crusades?”

“The Albigensian crusade, it was
the typical frame of mind then.  Rome had a policy, Nulla salus extra
ecclesium, outside the church there is no salvation.  To this day, most
everyone in Languedoc knows this saying.  It represents a tactic of
indiscriminate massacre.”

“I understand that, it’s simple
enough,” said Cameron.

“This monk, Cameron, he was the
first of the inquisition.”

“So what does that mean?”

“Nothing I think, but someone
carrying that dagger may be some type of follower.”

“The woman, Marie, said as
much.”  Cameron twisted the blade in his hand, examining the metal more
closely.  “Something else is odd.”

“What Cameron?”

“There seems to be blood on this
blade.  I didn’t see him cut anyone.”

“Yes, I was waiting to tell
you.”  Claude did not continue.  Cameron thought Claude had dropped
the call.  Cameron was about to ask Claude if he was still on the line
when Claude spoke again, “They found Gerard locked in a bathroom stall. 
His throat was cut.”

Cameron hung his head.  He
slipped the dagger back into his pocket, picked up the basket, and then turned
toward the front of the market.  “I’ll get to the bottom of this Claude.”

“Be careful.  These people
are into something very deep.”

“Yeah, listen,” Cameron sought
the words and then changed his mind and said simply, “I’ll check in later.”

* * *
* *

Cameron paid for the groceries
and walked out of the market holding a brown paper bag.  He stopped at the
front of the car near Marie and Nicole and smiled.  Cameron offered Nicole
the small grocery bag, “Apple, banana, or orange.  Your choice.” 
Nicole reached into the bag and pulled out an apple.  “Merci,” said
Nicole.  She then closed her eyes and held the apple in clasped hands
above her chest.  Nicole prayed in a low whisper and though Cameron could
barely distinguish the words, he recognized the unmistakable cadence of the
prayer.  By the rhythm of the prayer alone Cameron knew that Nicole was
reciting the Lord’s Prayer.  After reciting her prayer Nicole opened her
eyes and bit into the apple.  Juice ran down her chin and she giggled.

“So you do smile,” said
Cameron.  Marie stepped close to him, put her hand into the bag, and
pulled out the orange.  “Merci,” said Marie.  As Cameron could have
predicted the corners of Marie’s mouth stayed taught.

Cameron widened his eyes as he
pulled the last piece of fruit from the bag, “Banana for me.”  He crumpled
the grocery sack then tossed the wad of paper through the back window of the
Mercedes.  Cameron peered into Marie’s eyes.  He chewed the banana
voraciously letting the corners of his mouth form a huge smile.

“What are you looking at?” asked
Marie.

Cameron swallowed the banana,
“Nicole was wrong, you don’t look so bad when you wake up.”

Marie leered at Cameron.

“Do you know where we are
going?” asked Cameron.

“I will need to use your phone.”

* * *
* *

Boston

Using the Mercedes navigation
system Cameron easily found the food co-op.  Marie opened her door as soon
as Cameron parked in front of the store.

“Wait for me,” said Cameron.

Marie said nothing as she helped
Nicole from the back seat.  Cameron rounded the Mercedes, walked directly
to the entrance of the food co-op, and then held the door open for Marie and Nicole.

The smell of sage engulfed the
three as they stepped inside the shop.  Shelves were stacked to the
ceiling with herbs, beans, and other legumes.  Eastern music filled the
store from a tinny metal speaker mounted up in the corner.  The back wall
of the shop was shelved with brown vitamin jars of all sizes, and fronting the
length of the wall, a long wooden counter.

The building was old and the
floorboards creaked with each step they took.

When they got to the back of the
shop, no one was there to greet them.  In the corner, hidden from the
front by the racks of dried goods, was a beaded curtain to a back room. 
While Nicole sauntered back down the aisle browsing the shelves, Cameron and
Marie stood at the empty counter and waited for someone to come out from behind
the curtain.  They did not have to wait long.  From the back room a
skinny man came out wearing a tie-dye and faded jeans, his hair was short and
he was clean-shaven.  The skinny man gave a wide smile to the three and
then shifted his eyes first to Nicole and then to Marie.

“Can I help you?” asked the
skinny man.

Cameron disregarded the earthy
man.  He focused instead on the long thick canvas belt that drooped across
the ceiling.  The belt powered two slowly spinning ceiling fans.  The
drive motor and fans was as ancient as the building, their topsides coated with
dust.  Cameron had seen versions of this kind of fan in the cafes of
Morocco and had thought of putting some into his restaurant.

Marie surprised Cameron when she
abruptly said, “No, you do not seem to have what we need.”  Cameron was
stunned.  This was the safe house.

Marie placed her index finger on
her chin then tapped.  “Honey, I remember now,” said Marie, “it was the
other store that has the candles.  We need to go there.”  She placed
her hand on Cameron’s arm and squeezed.

Nicole was already walking to
the door.

“Thank you,” Marie said to the
skinny man behind the counter and then pulled Cameron toward Nicole and the
door.

“Are you sure we can’t help
you?” asked the skinny man as they walked to the door.

“No, thank you,” said
Marie.  Quietly to Cameron Marie said, “We must go quickly.”

Cameron did not know why Marie
had become so unsettled.  After what happened at the restaurant he did not
hesitate to follow her lead.  Nicole opened the shop door while Cameron
pulled his keychain from his pocket.

As Marie stepped in front of
Cameron to exit the shop he turned his head back toward the counter.  The
skinny man in the tie-dyed shirt was speaking into his cell phone, his eyes
pensively set on the three as they made their exit.

“Quickly,” said Marie, the door
not yet closed behind them.  “We must hurry.  They are on their way.”

Nicole and Marie climbed into
the Mercedes as Cameron rounded the front.  Two blocks down Cameron saw a
red sedan and a yellow Humvee turning the corner, neither yielded for the stop
sign.

Cameron jumped into the drivers
seat.

“We have to hurry,” said Marie.

“I get that,” said Cameron.

Cameron started the Mercedes and
rapidly shifted into gear.  The tires squealed as the Mercedes sped from
the curb.

“How did you know?” asked
Cameron.

“He smelled like you,” said
Marie.

“Excuse me,” said Cameron as he
adjusted the mirror, his foot applied firmly to the accelerator.

“We are vegan,” said
Nicole.  “He was impure.”

“The smell of sour milk came
into the room before he did,” said Marie.

Cameron was aware of the
phenomena.  As a soldier he was taught that enemy combatants could easily
be detected by their smell alone.  When deployed he was instructed to
start eating the local diet as many days before the mission as possible. 
There were times his squad knew a mission was coming before the orders came
down simply by what the cook served.

“You were obviously right,” said
Cameron.

The Humvee and sedan were close
behind them.  The road was clear of traffic allowing the Mercedes to race
forward.  Unfortunately the other two cars had the same advantage.

A loud thump came from the back
of the car.

“Mister Kincaid,” said Nicole.

“Yeah,” said Cameron.

“They have guns!”

“I can see that!  Get down,
get down!”

Another loud thump came from the
back of the car.

“Why aren’t the windows
breaking?” asked Marie.  She was on her side looking back at Nicole.

“They aren’t shooting at the
windows,” said Cameron.  “They’re trying to take the tires out.  We
have to lose them.”

Cameron hit the brakes, setting
the Mercedes on a skid that swerved the car ninety degrees and onto a side
street.  The Humvee started to stop too late and overran the
intersection.  The red sedan made the corner.

Marie shifted forward in her
seat.  Through the windshield she could see they were rapidly approaching
a busy intersection.  “Oh my,” said Marie.

“You better hold on,” said
Cameron.

“Nicole,” said Marie, “put your
seatbelt on.”

Cameron broke and swerved
again.  The Mercedes barely missed the front of a black Range Rover. 
The Rover, brakes slammed, began to skid sideways.  Car horns filled the
air.  Cameron accelerated without looking back.  The Rover stopped
traffic at the intersection allowing the red sedan to easily pass. The yellow
Humvee was not far behind.