‘Professor Alex Harker in the flesh, as I live and breathe. I cannot tell you what an honour this is.’
Adonis Anastas skipped merrily towards Harker and excitedly flung his thick hairy arms around him before administering a powerful hug. ‘What an absolute treat it is to meet you. A real treat!’
He was a bear of a man standing at least six-foot-tall and with the chubby, yet solid, frame of a wrestler from the 1980s. With wavy black hair gathered in a ponytail, wearing brown slacks and a red striped shirt with sleeves rolled up to his beefy elbows, the man would have been a daunting sight if not for his friendly manner. The latter was something that to Harker was actually more unsettling than the man’s size.
‘I want to say it’s a pleasure to meet you but… have we already met?’ Harker asked, as Anastas released his lung-crushing hug.
‘Not until now but I have been following your career closely these past few years, and the discoveries you have made during that time have been marvellous. You are truly a credit to us all.’
Since joining up with the Templars and thus gaining access to all their artefacts, hidden away and protected in its various vaults around the world, Harker had indeed ‘discovered’ many lost historical treasures including the gold death mask of Julius Caesar. Initially he’d felt a bit of a con-merchant because his only real triumph had been in convincing Sebastian Brulet to let him bring these artefacts out into the light of day, but on reflection his view had somewhat changed. Firstly, there was no way he could ever reveal how these items had ended up in his possession, because he could never betray the oath he had taken as a Templar and, secondly, without him the world would not have ever got to know about them. After some reflection he concluded it was nothing more than a necessary white lie which allowed everyone to now enjoy these previously hidden artefacts, so he felt justified in doing so. Besides, he was committed to keeping his most interesting discovery ever being revealed to the public – and that was the continuing existence of the Templar Order itself.
‘And, Miss Mitchell, it is so good to finally meet you too.’ Mr Anastas exchanged the constricting hug that Harker had received for a polite and gentle kiss on the back of her hand. ‘I hope your father is well?’
With the police thus far holding back the details of the exorcism, it was no surprise that Mr Anastas had no knowledge of Stefani’s father now being deceased, but still she froze slightly before smiling back at him.
‘Thank you for asking,’ she replied, while not responding to his question. However the polite brush-off was completely missed by Anastas who now turned his attention back to Harker as he thrust out his arm towards the building’s entrance.
‘Welcome to my museum,’ he said proudly with eyes full of enthusiasm. ‘Please come inside.’
With Stefani arching her eyebrows comically at Harker due to their host’s obvious excitement, the three of them headed inside to find an impressive interior with the lighting already turned on.
With a total square footage of fourteen thousand square feet, the edifice was less museum and more of a tribute to the Acropolis of Athens itself. Containing over four thousand objects of historical significance, displayed over four floors, the foundations had been laid directly on top of Roman and Byzantine ruins. The museum was constructed on thick white stone pillars that acted as stilts laid carefully in between the ancient ruins. Outside the front entrance an enormous opening had been cut into the walkway itself, allowing visitors to lean over the plate-glass railings and wonder at the exposed remains of an ancient city that, although long forgotten by time, was today flaunted proudly by modern Greeks as a link to their distant past that should never again be lost.
The debris of crumbling walls was also a major feature and, leading up to the ground-floor gallery, the glass panelled flooring allowed visitors to see the whole extent of the ancient ruins as they proceeded.
‘This place always reminds me of an airport terminal,’ Stefani remarked in a whisper as they made their way across the gallery floor towards the main steps.
Harker shot her an unamused look. ‘Philistine.’ he replied quietly, so the excited Mr Anastas could not hear. The museum, to his mind, was one of the most beautifully simplistic showcases in the world, and designed to be just that. There were no hedonistic statues placed outside, bearing down on every visitor as they entered, but instead the basic rectangular-shaped building represented that perfection of angles ancient Greece was known for. The arrangement of exhibits inside was simple by design and deliberately intended to focus the attention of the millions of tourists arriving every year onto the wonderful collection of objects themselves. If anyone wanted to be bowled over in awe by some gigantic man-made structure then all he had to do was check out the towering Acropolis itself.
‘My office is on the first floor,’ Anastas explained, now sounding coolly professional, ‘but I would love to give you a tour of the museum before we get down to business.’
‘I’m afraid not, Adonis,’ Stefani replied politely, ‘as we’re on an extremely tight schedule.’
Anastas came to an abrupt halt at the top of the stairs and turned to face them with a wholeheartedly disappointed look.
Harker felt obliged to step in. ‘But if you’re willing to give me the full tour at another time, I’d be honoured.’ This suggestion perked the curator up instantly. ‘I’ve been here before and my favourite area is without doubt the glass gallery of the Parthenon on the third floor. The frieze encircling the inner walls is exquisite.’
Anastas was now beaming at Harker’s knowledge of the museum and he began to nod ecstatically. ‘The honour would be mine, Professor.’
‘Please, Adonis, call me Alex.’
The pleasantry worked a charm and Anastas was now gesturing them up towards a side door with a black sign reading ‘Offices’ in white lettering. ‘Come inside.’ With that he swung the door open and ushered them both through.
It was a thoroughly modern workspace with new grey carpeting and white walls adorned with photographs of the museum’s exterior on one side, while on the other several large windows allowed a view of the illuminated Acropolis set high above them on the plateau.
‘What a view,’ Harker remarked, taking this opportunity to enjoy the vista, though Stefani appeared far more interested in an expensive-looking glossy, wooden work desk supporting a transparent Perspex display case holding a gold-leaf laurel with a red sticky label on it reading ‘restoration’.
‘It’s good to see the EU spending their budget wisely for a change,’ she chuckled.
‘Isn’t it?’ Anastas replied. ‘For how can you expect to build a new future in Europe if you don’t protect the past… In fact, Alex,’ he strode over to the display cabinet, ‘allow me to show you this as I think you’ll appreciate it.’
Now curious, Harker joined him as Anastas donned a pair of purple velvet gloves that had been lying on the desk top before gently opening the display case and tenderly retrieving the gold-leaf laurel in his careful grip.
‘This was discovered only very recently and although it’s not been confirmed, and maybe never will be, we believe this laurel crown to be of Roman origin. Whoever it was made for, judging by the quality of gold used, and the impressive craftsmanship, he was a highly important figure within the hierarchy of Rome.’
Anastas seemed to be glowing with pride over the item, and he then raised it up and gently laid it on top of Harker’s head. ‘Just think, Alex,’ he continued excitedly while keeping both hands hovering around the gold wreath protectively, ‘this could have been worn by Augustus Caesar himself.’
The man’s enthusiasm was infectious and Harker could not stop an excited smile crossing his lips. It was exactly this kind of moment that had made him fall in love with archaeology and to become someone who felt exactly the same way as Anastas clearly did. ‘A real treat.’
‘I pronounce you King Alex Harker, servant of the heavens and he who rules it.’ Anastas declared with all the giddy silliness of a child, and Harker glanced over at Stefani who played along, by offering him a mildly condescending bow.
‘I appreciate the generosity of your time, Adonis, but we really are on a tight schedule,’ she chided. ‘Perhaps you two boys can continue this during your next visit?’
Harker’s smile disappeared and now both men looked a tad embarrassed. Anastas swiftly took the wreath back into his velvet-gloved hands and placed it securely back in its display.
‘You’re right, Stefani.’ Harker admitted. ‘But, Adonis, I would love to spend a day with you in the near future, and please let me know eventually what you discover about that beautiful piece of work, would you?’
‘Give me your telephone number before you go and you have my word on that,’ he replied. ‘So, Miss Mitchell, it’s down to business now. What is it that I can help you with?’
Stefani glanced over at Harker who merely tilted his head towards her, expressing a non-verbal wish for her to go first. She cleared her throat and began, ‘Adonis, there is something that you may not be aware of, and in part it’s the reason I’m here.’
It was obvious that he could sense negative undertones and he now began to look on in earnest. ‘Then, please, tell me. Would you like to take a seat?’
‘No, thank you,’ she replied and with renewed resolve she began to explain. ‘Did you know that my father quit his priesthood?’
Anastas looked unsurprised. ‘Yes, I did – some years ago now.’
‘OK,’ she continued, giving no hint that for her this discovery was recent news. ‘Well, yesterday… no a couple of days ago now,’ she corrected after glancing down at her watch, ‘he died.’
The shock on Anastas’s face seemed genuine and he moved closer to her and took her hand. ‘Oh, Stefani, I am so sorry… How did it happen?’
‘He was shot by the police.’
‘What? Surely not, for he was one of the gentlest people I ever knew.’
‘I know. It’s come as a great shock to us all.’
‘Why?’ Anastas continued to look perplexed. ‘How?’
She was now becoming noticeably agitated and it was at this point Harker decided to enter the conversation. ‘The circumstances are slightly murky but it would appear that Father Davies had been in the process of performing an exorcism and whilst doing so he became possessed himself.’
The moment Harker mentioned the word ‘exorcism’, Anastas’s eyes began to widen and he pulled his hand away from Stefani’s. His expression was not so much one of bewilderment but of realisation. ‘What happened?’
There was no easy way to explain, so Harker just said it. ‘He murdered and… mutilated the apparently possessed boy, along with the child’s mother and then was shot dead by an arriving police officer.’
Anastas’s breathing began to quicken and he pretty much staggered back to one of the nearby desks and slumped against it. ‘It can’t be,’ he muttered, his lips quivering with every syllable, then looked uneasily towards the desk positioned at the far end of the room.
‘Adonis, I know that he contacted you just before it happened,’ Stefani interrupted as Anastas continued to stare over at that same desk. ‘What did he say? What is it you know?’
It seemed like an eternity before he turned back to face them, but now his complexion had grown pale and sweat was forming on his brow. ‘You didn’t realise that he had left the Church, did you?’
The man’s question was directed towards Stefani, and she stiffened awkwardly before shaking her head. ‘I just found out a few hours ago.’
‘Then you don’t know what he’s been doing, do you?’
She said nothing, but once again shook her head slowly.
‘I first met your father about five years ago at a charity dinner in Rome held for underprivileged children. The museum was part of a programme that allowed such children from all over the EU to visit Italy and Greece, to experience different cultures etc. It was the usual type of EU project aimed at trying to create a unified European identity. Your father and I got talking and I discovered he had a fascination with Greek mythology. Anyway we got on very well, so I invited him here to the museum and our friendship began to take off from there. We got in touch with each other a couple of times a year, then one day he just turned up and told me how he’d quit the church and wanted to follow another path.’
‘Did he explain why?’ Harker asked.
‘Not in so many words. It clearly wasn’t something he felt comfortable talking about but I always got the impression he had experienced – or maybe realised – something that was incompatible with his role within the Church. What I did notice, though, was that he became fascinated with the concept of good and evil, not just in a spiritual sense but rather in a real physical, tangible way. It was quite odd, really, but I believed he was only trying to figure out what lay beyond religion – and reality itself.’
‘Reality?’ Stefani was now looking as confused as Harker.
Anastas took a deep breath and glanced over again at the same desk. Harker was about to ask why when the man began to explain further. ‘It was as if he had come to believe that religion was not so much the final say but rather the outer layer of truths that lay beneath, and he had to know what those truths where. That’s the best way I can put it because he didn’t ramble on, as it were… but it was as if he had developed all these ideas that he believed were linked somehow and it was like he was trying to connect the dots. It was about this time that he started making trips to Egypt, Lebanon, Iraq and even the Republic of Congo in central Africa – going there twice if I remember. Then a month ago he turned up and told me this story that had me thinking he should maybe see a mental-health professional.’
‘I could have helped with that,’ Harker said with sincerity – then wishing he hadn’t as Stefani now stared over at him.
‘How do you figure that?’ she asked sharply.
‘My fiancée works with the criminally insane…’ Harker let the explanation tail off and he glanced towards her gingerly. ‘Not that your father was actually like that but… Sorry, I didn’t mean…’
‘It’s OK. I know what you meant.’ Stefani replied with no trace of bitterness. ‘Please, Adonis, continue.’
Anastas was now also looking sheepish and he scratched the back of his head whilst looking uncomfortable. ‘Your father told me that he had discovered the truth of life and what it meant, and that there were two kingdoms overshadowing ours but that history and all religions had got it all wrong. All topsy-turvy, as he put it. I suggested that his “two kingdoms” were the obvious – Heaven and Hell – but he became extremely agitated when I mentioned it and insisted that was exactly the same mistake religion had always made.’
‘I met a young man earlier who also talked about the two kingdoms,’ Harker intervened. ‘Of course that was before he was murdered, and after he had tried to drown me.’
‘Was murdered!’ Anastas exclaimed in nothing short of a yell.
‘It’s a long story, Adonis,’ Stefani said wanting the conversation to keep moving forward instead of getting caught up on following another tangent.
Anastas gawped silently at Harker for a few more seconds, then he continued with his strange story. ‘OK, so he told me that deep in the jungles of the Congo he had found something that allowed him “the price of admission” to the one who revealed to him the truth of the real world and the actual nature of our reality.’
This whole conversation was becoming a little bit funky for Harker’s taste, but on the other side of the room Stefani was staring diligently at the curator with a look of total fascination.
‘What did he find and who was the one?’ she asked, her mouth hanging open slightly in anticipation.
Anastas let slip a small gulp and he motioned towards his desk. ‘What he found is locked securely in my desk drawer, and the one he claimed to have met was… well, he said he met the Devil… in person.’