Naples, 16th of June, 23:45
Five days before the summer solstice
“The reference to this place,” Asar continued, “is not found in any known text of esoteric tradition, simply because it is an invented name Saint-Germain and the Sansevero agreed to use in order to conceal somewhere which actually existed. A place which has probably, for the last two thousand years, kept the secret of secrets.”
I put the letters on the desk and stared at Asar with a doubtful expression.
“Which is?”
“What you called the fountain of youth, the secret of the Egyptians.”
I smiled and shook my head.
“Mr Asar, we’re talking about a legend, about symbolic meanings. You can’t really believe this story. Not even I, who perform operative alchemy, could make the mad claim that my work in the laboratory could lead to this. The universal medicine, the elixir… Ok, maybe you can improve quality of life, as we read in the writings of Fulcanelli and his pupil Canseliet, but no more – and we can’t even be certain of that. Most alchemists have taken what they have discovered with them to the grave. This Cathedral of the Nine Mirrors and the treasure it houses is nothing more than a fantasy, a symbol. You’re insane – you have killed a man for nothing. For a myth or for the joke of two great alchemists from the past.”
Asar sighed through his mask and returned to his chair behind the desk. “Human history is littered with senseless murders, Mr Aragona. And as I told you, you have no evidence upon which to base your claim that we are responsible. Because in fact we are not. At least not in this case. What matters is that the Cathedral of the Nine Mirrors exists.”
“If you already know everything, why are we here? You asked me to collaborate, but I’m not going to help you, so we can stop this ridiculous meeting, unless you’re planning to kill me too.”
There was a moment of silence and the tension seemed to rise like heat from the floor.
“Unfortunately, Mr Aragona, things are not that simple,” said Asar, pulling a laptop from a drawer. He opened the screen and, for a moment, before he turned it towards me, an evil reflection was projected from it onto his mask.
“Do you see these six shapes on the left? These six, small, insignificant green shapes? Well they represent the six people seated at your table. To be precise, you, your wife, Professor Ricciardi and the three guardians of law and order that you brought with you and who at this moment in time are looking for you. As long as these six shapes remain green, you will stay – how shall I put it? – alive. But if I move this virtual switch, here, you see? This small grey button… Well, let’s say if I move the one next to the shape that corresponds to your wife… look, how wonderful!”
The female form with the name of Àrtemis next to it began turning red, starting from the feet. I had a sinking feeling.
“What are you doing, what does that mean?”
“It means that I still have ten seconds left to stop my Scorpion King from injecting a deadly poison into your wife’s body. One… two… three…”
“Stop! Stop, please, for God’s sake!”
“Four… will you co-operate? Five… six.”
I had no idea what that lunatic had in mind, but in a flash, the image of Hasek’s corpse – his battered body, the deadly wound – appeared before my eyes.
“Seven… the clock is ticking.”
The shape representing Àrtemis had become almost completely red, only the head was green. My throat had become dry and in a desperate move I rushed towards the computer. Two arms restrained me.
“Nine…”
“All right!” I shouted desperately.
Asar stopped his diabolical game.
“Very brave,” that masked monster remarked with a chuckle, “but I wouldn’t wait that long next time if I were you – I might not be so fast.”
“What… what were you doing?” I asked, as breathless as if I had just been for a run.
“The Scorpion King is a tiny, deadly device which transmits a signal from a great distance. You see, all of you tonight have swallowed a secret ingredient which was mixed into the excellent food served at dinner. To make sure, we added dozens of microscopic receivers which evade the immune system and hide in the body, remaining dormant for thirty days before being expelled without consequences. That is if I do not activate them. They are containers in which there is enough poison to kill you in a few minutes, a mix of neurotoxins extracted from the most poisonous scorpions of north Africa. I wouldn’t want that substance to be introduced into my body if I were you.”
I was released and I sagged like a wet rag.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked in a faint voice.
“It’s very simple. If you collaborate, the venom is not injected, these silhouettes remain green and we are all happy. Misbehave and… Well, in that case the virtual trigger installed in my computer and that of other members of our phratry will send a signal to the receiver-containers and they will release the Scorpion Kings’ poison. You will die, one after another, slowly and agonisingly. And in that case you will have every right to call us murderers.”
I was having difficulty not collapsing to the floor, so I tried to compose myself. “What do I have to do exactly?”
“According to the contents of the de Sangro to Saint-Germain correspondence, or the Hašek manuscript if you prefer, you must be in the Cathedral of the Nine Mirrors at noon on the summer solstice with a series of tools,” said Asar, closing the laptop. “Today is the sixteenth of June. There are only five days left, Mr Aragona – five days to crack the code and figure out what we should take with us. Five days to save your life and the lives of the people who were at the table with you tonight. I must warn you in advance that it is perfectly useless to have CAT scans, blood tests or whatever. The capsules you have ingested are undetectable and when the work has been done will be expelled from your body without consequences.”
I hid my face in my hands for a moment and then frenziedly loosened my tie.
“You damn…”
“You are already wasting time. Do not linger to insult me, or I might decide to speed things up…”
At that moment there was a knock at the door. The Thoth in a tuxedo walked over and opened it, listened to something and then closed it again.
“We have to go,” he said in the same deep voice with which he had welcomed me.
Asar nodded, took the Hašek codex, passed the laptop to another of the figures in the room and along with the others, headed for a door hidden in the shadows, that I hadn’t noticed before. He turned to me one last time, raising the correspondence.
“It is time for the Silver Shadow Lodge to do something useful, Mr Aragona. You have until twelve o’clock tomorrow morning to rally your confrères – you will need their help to crack the code. At noon go to the historic café in Piazza San Domenico Maggiore and ask if somebody has paid for a cup of coffee in your name. You will find it good – and enlightening.”