The Rozabal Line Part 9

Vincent was sitting in the pathetically small lobby of the Airways Hotel reading the Sun. He was blissfully unaware of the big t.i.ts on page three. He was staring at the photograph of his new friend, Professor Terry Acton, on page one. The news story that followed was filled with gruesome details of the discovery of the severed head of Professor Terry Acton in the library of the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London. It quoted a visibly shaken librarian, Barbara Poulson, saying she 'could not believe that any human being could do this to another'. Obviously, Ms.Poulson was not up-to-date with global crime.

The story quoted a detective chief superintendent saying that a note had been found along with the severed head and that it had been decided to keep the contents of the note confidential to avoid public misconceptions about the nature of the crime. He went on to say that efforts were ongoing to locate the rest of the body and to track down the perpetrators as soon as possible.

Vincent was trembling. Why was G.o.d doing this to him? Why bring Terry Acton into his life and then eliminate him? Why open up secrets of previous lives through Terry? Why place the Bom Jesus doc.u.ments in his hands? And who in the world would want to kill Terry, a kind, gentle and mild-mannered professor?

Vincent continued sitting in the lobby of the Airways Hotel, not bothered that the furniture and decor had seen better days. He continued staring at Terry's photograph until he made up his mind. He got up, walked over to the front desk and asked the middle-aged matron behind the desk to lend him the phone. He pulled out his AT&T USA Direct calling card from his wallet and dialled the local access number in London, 0800-89-0011. The electronic English voice that answered prompted him to enter the area code and the seven-digit number in the United States. He entered 718-777-2840 for the number in Queens, New York. He was then prompted to enter his international calling card number, which he quickly did. He heard the single, long and straightforward ring tone that was so different to the local English hyphenated one. After four rings, Thomas Manning answered the phone.

'h.e.l.lo?'

'Tom! I'm glad I caught you in New York. I wasn't sure whether I'd find you there or in Switzerland.'

'Vince, where are you? It's been ages.'

'I'm in London.'

There was a pause at the other end. After a moment, Thomas asked, 'Why are you in London?'

'Well, why not? Listen, Tom, I have to tell you something . . . I'm wondering whether it's such a great idea to have this conversation over a phone, but I don't know when I'll get a chance to meet you . . .'

'Vince, is something wrong? Has something happened?' Thomas sounded genuinely concerned.

'Before I say anything else, I need your promise to keep this conversation confidential,' said Vincent.

'Sure, but what exactly is the matter? You're beginning to worry me.'

'Okay, here goes . . . as you know, I had been having strange visions after the pa.s.sing away of my parents. In fact, you were there by my side in the hospital, right? I needed to explore these strange visions. Don't ask how . . . but that's why I arrived here.'

'I don't understand, Vince. Why this phone call?'

'Tom, yesterday I met a person by sheer chance-Terry Acton, a professor of spirituality and religion. He helped me explain some of the confusion surrounding the odd flashes that were going off in my head.'

The pause at the other end was much longer.

'Tom, are you still there?' asked Vincent.

'Yes, sorry, Vince, my mind had wandered off elsewhere. You were talking about this professor.'

'Precisely. We spent an entire day together and he was killed the very same night!'

'What? How did that happen?'

'I have no idea. Tom, I'm really scared. Could G.o.d have punished him for opening up my past lives to me?'

'Whoa! Hold it right there, Vince. What past lives?'

'It's a long story.'

'Go ahead . . . I'm all ears,' said Thomas Manning as he pressed the automatic recording b.u.t.ton that was built into his phone while absentmindedly playing with the small pendant that hung around his neck.

New York City, USA, 2012 Thomas Manning picked up the phone and dialled the number in Vatican City.

The Bang & Olufsen phone buzzed gently. His Eminence answered it on the first ring. He pressed the b.u.t.ton on the SV-100 scrambler that was attached to the line; one couldn't be too careful nowadays.

When the voice answered, Thomas quickly spoke in Latin, 'Salve! Quomodo vales?'

The voice answered, 'EGO sum teres. Operor vos postulo ut sermo secretum?'

Thomas replied in hushed tones, 'Etiam Vincent Sinclair postulo futurus vigilo.'

The voice was concerned. 'Quare?'

Thomas began explaining the situation to His Eminence,'Is orator volo . . . we have a problem . . .'

His Eminence was on alert.

'Professor Terry Acton may have spoken with someone before his death,' continued Thomas.

His Eminence was getting angry and he spoke sharply, 'Who?'

'Father Vincent Sinclair. Apparently they spent the entire day together before Acton was killed.'

His Eminence was turning crimson red, the colour of his robes, but he controlled his rage.

'Do you think he knows about Terry Acton's research? Is Vincent Illuminati?' asked His Eminence.

'I don't think he knows as yet. And no, I don't think that Vincent is Illuminati. Terry Acton was definitely Illuminati, but I don't think Vincent is. Terry Acton's connections to the Illuminati only happened because of his Rhodes Scholars.h.i.+p and his members.h.i.+p of the Skull & Bones,' explained Thomas Manning.

Valerio cut in, 'Thomas, let me be more specific. Do you think that Acton would have shared the Bom Jesus records with Vincent Sinclair?'

Thomas Manning was quiet for a moment. He then replied, 'It's very likely. It seems that Vincent believes he saw Jesus Christ in a previous life.'

'Blasphemy!' shouted His Eminence.

'True. But he genuinely believes it. I have the recording of the conversation I had with him over the phone. I am quite sure that Terry Acton also believed it. It's thus quite possible that they discussed the Bom Jesus papers,' replied Thomas.

'Then there's only one solution. I will meet you in Zurich to decide the final steps to rid ourselves of this Illuminati menace!' shouted one loyal member of the Crux Decussata Permuta to the other.

Virgin Atlantic's flight VS 900 from London's Heathrow to Tokyo's Narita airport took off at 1pm. The camera-festooned j.a.panese tourist couple, Mr and Mrs Yamamoto, were in Virgin's Upper Cla.s.s cabin, having received their professional fees for the library job from their mentor, Alberto Valerio, at The Dorchester Hotel. His Eminence had subsequently checked out on the same day and left for Vatican City. Mr Yamamoto did not know that Mrs Yamamoto had received a fresh a.s.signment involving Mr Yamamoto.

Unknown to them, another flight from Rome was taking off fifty-fifty minutes after their departure. Swiss International Airlines flight LX 333 was on its way to Zurich. Since the airline did not have a first-cla.s.s section on this flight, His Eminence Alberto Cardinal Valerio had no option but to settle for business cla.s.s.

The previous evening, Brother Thomas Manning had boarded American Airlines flight 64 at JFK airport. He had arrived in Zurich at 7:05 the next morning, a full nine hours before His Eminence. He had proceeded to Einsiedeln only to return to Zurich on a forty-seven-minute train ride leaving Einsiedeln for Zurich at 3 pm Swiss time, with a single change at Wadenswil.

Mr and Mrs Yamamoto arrived in Tokyo twelve hours after their departure from London. Takuya was tired and decided to soak himself in the bathtub while Swakilki dutifully unpacked for both of them. Swakilki thought about the specific instructions that she had received from His Eminence. Future activities were going to be extremely delicate. Duets were out; solo performances were required. Takuya was a liability.

She needed to calm herself. Where the h.e.l.l was the marijuana? She steadied herself and walked over to the steamed-up bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. She rolled herself a joint using the cannabis stored in the innocent-looking vitamin jar. With trembling hands she lit it and inhaled long and hard. As she inhaled, she felt the easing of the tension and the onset of mild euphoria.

She was fine. She was beautiful. She didn't need Takuya. He needed her. The enemy had to be killed. She turned around and saw that he had fallen asleep in the tub and was snoring gently.

She took out the hairdryer from her travel kit and plugged it in. She then flipped on its switch and released it casually into the tub. She then watched with a blank expression as the electric current raced through Takuya's body. As his breath escaped him, she regained hers.

Zurich, Switzerland, 2012 The two men sat together at His Eminence's favourite place, Sprungli's cafe on Paradeplatz. His Eminence had ordered hot chocolate for both of them. As they sipped the rich brew, they discussed the latest complication, and two decisions were taken over two rounds of hot chocolate.

Let Swakilki handle the pest, Vincent Sinclair. Let Brother Thomas Manning represent the Oedipus trust to negotiate a settlement with the Isabel Madonna trust as soon as possible.

Chapter Eleven.

London, UK, 2012 The convent chapel of the Church of the Holy Ghost at 36, Nightingale Square had been dedicated in 1890. The present church building opened seven years later, in 1897.

Vincent and Martha were seated among the several students, colleagues, friends and family who had a.s.sembled inside the church to attend the special Memorial Ma.s.s for Professor Terry Acton. Vincent still found it hard to believe that someone could brutally murder a simple and harmless man for no apparent reason. The manner of his death seemed to indicate something far more sinister.

Martha was thoroughly shaken. The depth of her loss could be seen in her moist eyes that would well up every few minutes. They sat quietly listening to the sermon. 'The faith that Jesus had in G.o.d allowed him to look at death in a detached way. Death was simply a door that led to a far better existence,' the pastor was saying.

Memorial Ma.s.s over, Vincent and Martha stepped out of the cool, dark interiors of the church into a sunny afternoon. Vincent tried consoling a devastated Martha.

'Why should you be sad? You are one of the most ardent believers of life after death. Terry has simply moved on. He's probably with his wife, Susan, right now. C'mon, Nana, be brave,' said Vincent.

Vincent continued, 'Terry gave me a doc.u.ment after our regression. He specifically asked me to follow up on the regression because it might possibly prove a theory of his. Nana, I'm going to need your help.'

'Vincent, I'm in no condition to help anyone. I can barely manage myself,' snapped Martha.

Vincent shot back, 'Listen, I know this is difficult for you, but if you are Terry's friend, you will do what he wanted you to do . . . you owe it to Terry.'

Vincent and Martha took the stairs to the third floor of the SAGB, which was used for conducting healing therapies such as Reiki, spiritual healing and regression, and borrowed a room. Martha was still remembered affectionately by the administrative staff and they were happy to oblige.

'Okay, get yourself comfortable, physically comfortable. Settle back and relax . . . that's right . . . just . . . relax,' started Martha. 'Look up and observe the skylight. You can see a little green dot on the skylight . . . completely focus your concentration on that spot for a while as you continue to listen . . . a peaceful easy feeling is settling over you . . . your eyes want to close. That's fine. You want to go deeper and relax. Your eyelids are heavy . . . your eyes will close on their own just to rest themselves . . . I will now count backwards from five down to one. You will feel yourself floating into a deeper and deeper trance with each number. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one. Okay, Vincent, where are you?'

'I think I'm in France.'

'What can you see?'

'There are public executions going on. I'm in the crowd, but in front of me is the Place de la Revolution. There is a guillotine in the centre.'

'What sort of guillotine is it?'

'It has two large upright posts joined by a beam at the top. It sits on top of a platform that is reached by two dozen steps. The whole machine is blood-red. There is a huge blade that has a weight on it. This blade runs in grooves that have been greased with tallow.'

'Are people being killed at this guillotine?'

'The reign of terror has already killed 30,000 people. In this month alone over a thousand people have been beheaded.'

'Are you in the middle of the French Revolution?'

'I think so. It's 1794.'

'Who are you?'

'I am Jean-Paul Pelletier. I'm watching the public spectacle. Right now they are about to execute a young woman called Charlotte Lavoisier.'

'Why?'

'She has been condemned by trial for stabbing and wounding me, Jean-Paul Pelletier, a great leader of the Revolution.'

'Is she waiting for the blade to fall?'

'Non, elle a juste arrive dans le tumbrel normal . . . elle demande a Sanson, le bourreau, voir la guillotine. Elle est courageuse!'

'Stop there, Vincent. Float above the scene. I need you to repeat what you just said in English, not French.'

'She has just arrived in the usual tumbrel . . . she has got off . . . she's asking Sanson, the executioner, to be allowed to take a closer look at the guillotine . . . she hasn't seen one before and is curious to see how it works . . . my word, she is brave!'

'What's happening now?'

'She is being strapped to the bascule and the bascule is being hinged horizontally to bring her head into the lunette.'

'Go on.'

'Sanson is pulling the cord . . . the blade is released . . . the head is off! It is rolling into the b.l.o.o.d.y oil cloth in the wicker basket in front of the guillotine!'

'Okay, Vincent, I need you to go deeper into your previous lives. I'm going to count backwards from five, and when I finish counting you will be in an even older life . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . where are you now?'

'I am in Tahuantinsuyu.'

'Where is that?'

'South America. I am a respected warrior under the command of Sapa Inca Pachacuti.'

'Are you an Inca warrior?'

'Yes. Sapa Inca Pachacuti has vastly expanded and created the Tahuantinsuyu. He is the head of four provincial govern-ments-Chinchasuyu, Antisuyu, Contisuyu and Collasuyu. These are located at the four corners of his vast empire. At the centre is Cuzco, the capital.'

'Are you in Cuzco?'

'No. Sapa Inca Pachacuti has built a huge retreat in Machu Picchu. I protect his family there.'

'What is Machu Picchu like?'

'Oh, it is the most beautiful place on earth. It is located on a high mountain ridge, very high up in the clouds. It has a huge palace and several temples. About 750 people can stay in Machu Picchu at a given time. The mountain ranges in the background of Machu Picchu resemble an Inca looking up at the sky . . . the tallest one, Huayna Picchu, is the Inca's nose.'

'What else can you tell me about Machu Picchu?'

'We Incas believe that the solid foundation of the earth must never be excavated, so we have had to build this place entirely out of loose rocks and boulders! Many of our buildings have no mortar . . . it is our extreme precision in cutting that allows this to be done.'