Harker made his way up the last flight of stone steps to the plateau on which the Parthenon sat and turned to take in the view. It was already well past midnight but, given all the lights glittering across Athens, it could have been mistaken for a city just gearing up for the evening’s activities rather than bedtime. His jet had landed at Athens International Airport and, after a surprisingly brief trip into the city he had made his way up to the rocky outcrop of the Acropolis which rose in the very centre of the capital and offered a glorious sight of the sprawling cityscape below. Stefani had originally planned their encounter at the Acropolis Museum, just a stone’s throw away, but had subsequently sent a text changing it. And, although she had not offered any reason, Harker was glad she had done so. He rarely visited this famed city and certainly not at this time of night, when access to the Acropolis was denied to the general public. Clearly Stefani had some pull with the authorities and, as he leant back against one of the towering columns of the mighty temple, he allowed himself to relax and just enjoy the experience.
Originally built as a shrine for the Greek goddess Athena and completed in 432BC, the Parthenon was considered a wonder of the ancient world and even today it stood as a symbol for the birthplace of Western democracy and civilisation. The roof may have fallen in long ago and the only remaining structures to survive over two thousand years were its impressive pillars, surrounding the original temple. As Harker gazed down across the ancient city, he could imagine how impressive the edifice must have looked back in its heyday. High above the city, like a beacon of human triumph the sight must have elicited in its citizens the same feelings of marvel and awe that the pyramids of Giza aroused amongst ancient Egyptians.
‘That view never gets old, does it?’ a voice spoke up from behind him and Harker turned to see Stefani leaning against the next pillar along.
‘How could it?’ he replied, slowly making his way over to her. ‘Especially at this time of night.’
Stefani gave an approving smile. ‘Being a Templar definitely has its perks. Especially when it comes to gaining access.’
Harker considered offering her a handshake but thought better of it as the young female Templar remained propped against the pillar with both hands firmly in her pockets.
‘I lived here in Athens for a couple of years when I was younger,’ she said, continuing to enjoy the view. ‘It’s funny but you’d be astonished at how many people actually born here have never bothered to make the short trip up to where we’re standing.’
‘It’s always the way when you live in a city of historical wonders,’ Harker replied. ‘For tourists they are the attractions not to miss, but to the citizens living and working there they simply provide a stunning backdrop. I lived in London for years and in all that time I never once made a trip to see Buckingham Palace or Big Ben. They seemed just part of the landscape.’
Stefani continued smiling and then pulled herself away from viewing the stunning panorama and gave Harker her full attention. ‘I know we were originally going to meet at the museum, but Mr Anastas – the curator – got caught up, so I thought why not enjoy the sights while we wait for him.’
‘No complaints here,’ Harker replied, beginning to register how distant and preoccupied she looked. ‘Apart from the obvious, are you OK?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said firmly, a sense of purpose returning to her. ‘But after we spoke, I delved a bit deeper into my father’s past on the flight over and found out some things that were… troubling.’
‘Well they can’t be any more troubling than what I experienced in Rome. I got married, for God’s sake. Try me.’
Stefani hesitated for a moment and then finally pulled her hands out of her pockets and rubbed them together apprehensively. ‘After you questioned my father’s position within the Church, I called a friend at the Vatican. I wasn’t looking for anything nefarious, just to discover if he was given any new roles, or maybe even a change of parish – anything really.’
‘What did they say?’
‘They told me he hasn’t been an officiating priest for over three years!’
This news came as a shock and Harker winced in confusion. ‘How’s that even possible? Wouldn’t the Templars have realised?’
Stefani was already nodding. ‘Yes, we would have known, which is why it makes even less sense, but apparently he handed in his collar, despite much pressure from the Church to try and convince him to change his mind.’
‘Why?’
‘My contact was a bit cagey but his official reason for leaving was due to a crisis in his faith and because he had fallen in love.’
‘With who?’ Harker asked astonished, thinking the man had been pretty long in the tooth to allow such notions to overcome a lifelong belief.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied and with a frustrated sigh, ‘but obviously he did.’
The idea that Father Davies – or rather Mr Davies as of now – would not have told his own daughter seemed perplexing to Harker. Perhaps he felt ashamed of something, like his disgusting hobby of dead animal posing discovered back at his apartment, but Harker could see the young Templar woman was still reeling from their news, and so he decided to tread carefully with his next question. ‘You had no idea – not even an inkling?’
‘No, nothing. I mean, over the past few years I had not seen him as much as I would have liked to, given all the troubles the Templars have experienced recently but I still visited him a couple of times a year including monthly phone calls, and he never mentioned a thing.’
Part of what Harker was now being told actually came as a relief because, after the unpleasant scene her father had left behind in his own apartment, it meant at least there was now no direct embarrassment to the Church. But that the Templars themselves had no idea meant only one of two things. Either they’d had the wool pulled over their eyes, or more worrying still, someone within the organisation had in fact known and deliberately covered it up. It was a disturbing thought and even though Harker had complete faith in Brulet, and those that guided the Templars, what if there was someone working on the inside and more importantly – why?
He cast the unsettling question to one side, for the moment, and now turned his attention to the reason they were here. ‘Did you mention any of this to the curator we’re going to meet – this Mr Anastas?’
‘No, I only confirmed that he once knew my father, and that I needed to meet with him as soon as possible. I wanted to gauge his reaction face to face concerning everything else.’
‘That’s smart… makes sense,’ Harker replied. ‘So how did you persuade him to meet us so late at night, and at the museum, which I know is always closed at this time?’
Stefani’s worried expression evaporated and she glared at him amusingly. ‘That bit was easy,’ she replied and then checked her watch, ‘why don’t we stroll down there now? He should be arriving soon.’
Without actually answering his question, Stefani turned and headed for the winding path leading down to the Acropolis Museum below.
‘Well?’ Harker called after her, and then quickly caught up. ‘Why exactly was it so easy?’
She continued to smile. ‘Oh, once you meet him, you’ll understand.’