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the sarcophagus, slipping the Seal back into his belt pouch. Stone grated against stone as
he set his fingers to the edge of the stone lid, but the weight was more than he could shift
unaided.
Here! Help me! he rasped at Logan.
Logan darted forward to comply. In moving closer, his feet caught in the remnants of
one of the mouldering mantles and pulled over its wearer in a startling clatter of
collapsing chain mail and separating bones. The skull skittered almost under Logan s
feet, and the thief kicked it aside with a grimace of disgust as he got a grip on the edge of
the lid opposite Gerard. Grunting and straining, the two of them were just able to shift it
off and lean it on edge against the side of the sarcophagus. At Gerard s gesture, Logan
snatched up the lantern again and shone it inside.
Within lay something long and narrow, wrapped in a pall of purple silk whose color
remained miraculously un-dimmed by age. Fingers trembling, Gerard bent over and lifted
away the top folds. Beneath, pillowed on more silk, lay a slender rod of rich, untarnished
gold. One end was capped with a decorative knob supporting a three-dimensional star of
interlocking triangles nearly the size of a man s palm - surely the sign of Solomon - and
the other had a miniature version of the Seal carved into the flat, so that it, too, could be
used as a seal.
Gerard gave a wordless moan of triumph as he allowed one trembling forefinger to
stroke down the shaft. Then, with an ecstatic sigh, he rewrapped the Sceptre in its silken
shroud and reverently lifted it from its resting place. While his attention was so diverted,
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Logan s gaze strayed toward the gleam of the fallen knight s fallen sword. But as he
made a move to pick it up, Gerard rounded on him, flushed with hectic pride.
Leave that piece of trash where it is! the Frenchman ordered. Now that we have the
Seal and the Sceptre, the true treasure of Solomon is only waiting for us to claim it!
chapter twenty-five
MIDNIGHT was fast approaching when the helicopter carrying Adam, McLeod, and
Peregrine touched down on the helipad at Dalhousie Castle in a light rain. Parked at the
edge of the tarmac beside the landing circle, a dark grey VW Passat Estate flashed its
headlights once as the pilot cut the engine. There s our next ride, McLeod said, as they
disembarked from the chopper. Thanks very much, Mr. Pearson. Someone will be up to
collect the car in the next day or two.
Clutching their bags and ducking low under the still-turning rotors, the three of them
made a dash for the car. Before leaving Adam s Range Rover at the heliport, they had
changed blazers and tweed jackets for the ubiquitous green waxed jackets that were more
suitable for the weather and their probable activities. Detective Donald Cochrane threw
open the front passenger door as they approached, a quizzical look on his face as they
piled in, McLeod and Peregrine in the back and Adam up front.
Good to see you, Donald, McLeod said. Now see how fast you can get us to Roslin.
Sir Adam will direct you.
Acknowledging the order with a wordless nod, Cochrane popped the car into gear and
punched the accelerator. As they roared out of the car park to the departing chuff of
helicopter rotors behind them, Adam opened the road atlas he had brought along and
breathed a silent prayer that he and his companions would be arriving in time. Ahead of
them, the Midlothian landscape was flooded with watery moonlight, bright enough to
show him individual sheep dotting the fields on either side of them.
Turning right out of the car park, Cochrane sent the Passat shooting like an arrow up the
deserted highway, only slowing to turn southerly again at the crossroads in Bon-nyrigg.
A long, straight run of about two miles brought them to Rosewell, whence they wove
more westerly until they were creeping through the outskirts of Roslin itself. As they
turned down an unpaved road that was signposted to Rosslyn Chapel, Adam instructed
the younger detective to kill their headlamps and proceed very slowly, turning then to
speak to Peregrine. McLeod was pulling the Browning Hi-Power out of his bag, slapping
a clip into the butt, slipping the weapon into the waistband of his trousers. Keep your
eyes open, Adam advised in a tight undertone, handing Peregrine a small torch. If you
See anything out of the ordinary, let us know at once. The great wall surrounding
Rosslyn Chapel loomed ahead, the pointed Gothic spires of the chapel itself glistening
beyond in the moonlight. Pull over there, Adam instructed their driver. And just wait
for us here. With a glance back over his shoulder at McLeod, Cochrane did as he was
bidden, parking in the shadow of a weeping cherry tree and killing the engine. If we re
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not back in an hour, call for reinforcements, McLeod murmured, handing Cochrane his
cell phone as he and his companions got out of the car. Are you sure you don t want me
to come with you, sir? Cochrane asked hopefully.
Quite sure, thank you. I want you to stay here with the car in case somebody has to give
chase.
Whatever you say, sir, Cochrane sighed. He added plaintively, I wouldn t mind
somebody telling me what s going on.
McLeod reached over and gave the younger man a clap on the shoulder. Later, he said
with gruff firmness. Right now, you re right where you re most likely to be needed.
Carrying his medical bag, which now housed the Crown, Adam led the way up to the
actual entrance through the surrounding wall and tested at the door, but it was firmly
locked.
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