Naples, 19th of June, 09:50
Two days before the summer solstice
Carlo and I said goodbye to Andrea and Alex, who by now were inseparable, and we headed along Spaccanapoli for Palazzo Penne. We had surpassed ourselves. In a few days we had decoded the messages of the Prince of Sansevero, discovering the mysterious melody of Mozart and managing to manufacture the alchemical ruby. It seemed we had found everything Asar had requested – the tools needed to open the Cathedral of the Nine Mirrors to possess its secret. It remained to be determined whether that information would satisfy the masked lunatic, however.
Once in Palazzo Penne, we were greeted by the guard on duty, but that morning he was not alone. A second person was present in the hot, dusty apartment used as a consultation room for the Hašek codex. A person sitting in front of the half open window, his back turned to us.
After we had been accommodated at the table and exchanged dubious glances, he stood up. I recognized Asar’s mask and his Egyptian headdress with black and white stripes.
“Ah, you honour us with your presence this morning,” I said sarcastically.
“I wanted to verify your results personally,” he replied in his usual hoarse, low voice. “Tell me everything.”
I told him how we had interpreted the Peregrino Neapolitano, thanks to which we had been able to manufacture the ruby and discover the melody hidden in the Sansevero Chapel and the Chapel gate of the Treasure of San Gennaro.
As I spoke, I took from my jacket pocket the ruby and the sequence of numbers which had led us to discover the Mozart sonata. “These, in my opinion, are the tools you are seeking.”
Asar approached the table. He snatched up the ruby, studied it for a while and then slipped it into his own pocket. Then he took the piece of paper where I had transcribed the sequence of the Sansevero Chapel and the title of Mozart’s composition.
“Sonata No. 1 in C major, K 279… And what good would this sonata be, in your opinion?”
I held my hands up. “I have absolutely no idea, just as I have no idea of the function of the ruby.”
Asar walked about the room for a while, then turned to look at us. “You read the letter in which the Comte de Saint-Germain describes what he does in the cathedral of Chartres on the day of the summer solstice?”
“Yes, he says that he cordoned off that part of which the prince was aware and used a certain catalyst in the exact moment when the light began to move towards a point. All very vague, but the two must have known what they were talking about.”
Asar took out the ruby and held it up in front of us. “This is the catalyst, Mr Aragona. But where exactly should it be positioned? Where?”
The marble slab, the small metal fragment, the plan of the cathedral. Like an image flashing in the darkness, I saw in my mind the photograph found in Matteo’s box in his laboratory in Via Anticaglia. Matteo had understood this too.
“Of course! It’s all so… so clear! At the foot of the Sant’Apollinare window in the south transept of the cathedral of Chartres there is a marble slab set in a different position to the others which has a metal pin sticking out of it. Put your catalyst there in two days’ time and you should find the way to this cursed Cathedral of the Nine Mirrors.”
Asar stood motionless for a few seconds, then nodded and began to clap slowly. “Bravo, Mr Aragona – you are a true expert in hermetic puzzles.”
Without turning round he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. His assistant appeared with a laptop. With a quick gesture Asar opened it, turning the screen towards us. I saw the un-nerving program that showed the green silhouettes. I shuddered.
“What are you doing? I gave you what you wanted!”
Asar pressed a key and the outline with my name on it quickly changed colour. I was paralysed with fear and couldn’t move a muscle, while the green gave way to red. Within seconds the silhouette was purple. But I was still alive. Several interminable seconds passed, and eventually Asar laughed.
“You won’t die, Mr Aragona – at least, not yet. None of the people seated at your table on the first night of The Magic Flute has ever really run any risk because of this little graphic simulation. And as I’ve repeatedly told you, Professor Ricciardi had a heart attack.”
The blood rushed to my head. The bastard had been playing with us like a cat with a mouse, and threatening us with a toy weapon.
“You son of a…” I hissed, jumping up to attack him. Before I had taken a step, though, I was stopped by the barrel of a gun which his henchman was pointing at me.
“But that doesn’t mean that we are not able to harm you if we wish,” continued Asar calmly. He closed the computer and gave it to his assistant then walked towards the door, opened it and waved us out. “Please, there is nothing more for you to do here. Leave the building and head towards Spaccanapoli. You have been very useful, but perhaps now you can help the poor Prague police and Commissioner Franchi to get to the bottom of another enigma. Who killed Hašek?”