I’m momentarily alone with Sophie at the wake and ask her, ‘Have you been honest with me?’
She replies, ‘I’ve never lied to you.’
‘That’s not quite the same thing. What haven’t you told me?’ She holds my stare but bites her lower lip. I add, ‘Is it a lot?’
‘It’s a lot.’
‘Sophie, you can tell me anything. And if you’re ever in any kind of trouble, I’m here for you. Every time.’
‘Really?’
‘You know I am! Why didn’t you tell me about whatever it is? Are you in some kind of danger?’
‘Me, here now? No. My immortal soul, unbound from my corporeal body and co-eternal with Almighty God?’ She nods. ‘Yeah. That’s in trouble.’
‘OK. Let’s talk after the meeting, yeah?’
‘Marc.’
‘Yeah?’
She pauses and, in this moment, Stacey and Frank arrive back at our table, laden with drinks.
‘It’s a lot.’
Stacey asks, ‘What’s a lot?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I tell her.
We’re in the White Swan, a cosy little pub in south-west London with pretty views across the Thames. It’s one of those boozers that dates back to the 1600s and its rooms and layout are charming but higgledy-piggledy, as if its architect kept forgetting what he was doing and couldn’t be bothered to check his notes. It’s warm, but not too warm, and my second pint of Neck Oil, polished off a few moments ago, is starting to hit the spot. This could be an all-afternooner. But first we’ve got some business to get out of the way.
I’d sat next to Frank at Claudette’s funeral and Sophie and Stacey met us here, at the wake, just a few minutes after we’d arrived. I tell them, ‘I know what the Court is. And I know why it’s so powerful and so secret.’
Frank says, ‘Well, crack on with it, lad!’
Stacey adds, ‘Aye, don’t keep us in suspense.’
‘Julia Grant told me the Romanov Code and all the Imperial treasures were only a small part of something bigger. The Dresden White Diamond, the Ivory Coast Crown Jewels, the Patiala Necklace, the Nazi Gold Train . . . In fact, priceless historical riches have been going missing throughout history. The Lost Inca gold, the Great Bell of Dhammazedi, the Treasure of Amaro Pargo, the Sceptre of Dagobert, the Three Brothers, the Crimson Angel, the Kruger Millions . . . it’s staggering. And I asked Julia why so many of mankind’s great treasures are missing. And she told me I was asking the wrong question.’
Stacey interrupts, ‘What did he mean?’
‘She said the question was wrong. So, the implication is obvious. It’s wrong because all those things I’ve just listed, and hundreds more artefacts besides . . . they’re not missing.’