Julian continued. “I had gone to great lengths—aided by Cardinal Tissot’s financial help—to convince theGardiensto choose me as the book’s Thirteenth Keeper. I set up the perfect library to hide it in. Petitioned for the role. Bribed where I needed to. And in the end, it worked.”
“You were selected,” Sharyn noted, appreciating that she was not the only one fooled by this man.
“It was only after I was tapped for this esteemed role that I learned the name of my predecessor, the Twelfth Keeper. By then, the book was already on its way to me. During a flurry of encrypted communications, an ally of Cardinal Tissot made a mistake that allowed the Keeper’s name to reach Marchand and hisConfrériecohorts. There was nothing to be done about it. All I could do was hope Jakob Haugen would not tell them where the book was shipped to. But that got dashed due to a cocktail of drugs. And worse, theGardiensalso learned of the book’s possible exposure after the death of Haugen.”
Sharyn drew back to that day in the library, trying to imagine the dark forces closing upon her that night.
“With both theGardiensand theConfrérieracing for the book, the timetable to execute our plans became exceptionally tight. Then came a call that made things worse.”
She grimaced, remembering him arguing on the phone—in German or some other Nordic language.
“It was from Cardinal Tissot. He warned me that members of Marchand’s faction had already been dispatched and would reach the library at any moment. Which required me to act with haste. I had to flee, but I couldn’t take the book with me or leave it behind. I had to move it temporarily, to somewhere out of the way, to a place of safety.”
“And I happened to be there...” she groaned.
Julian’s brows raised. “Nothappened. No, my dear, it was preplanned. You were always my back-up. It was not a coincidence you were at the Old Library on Halloween. As the former director of libraries, I made sure you did not have access to the Saxton Atlas—the book you requested—until I knew the shipment from the Twelfth Keeper had arrived safely.”
She swallowed hard, remembering the long delay in gaining permission to photograph the book. It hadn’t been due to bureaucracy, but from machinations far darker.
“I needed you there as a failsafe. Even if Ms. Peele hadn’t brought you to the library’s vault, I would’ve sought you out in the reading room if it proved necessary.”
“But why . . . why me?”
“I read your application, Ms. Karr. Ran a background check. You were someone with a troubled past, abused, beaten down. Someone easily cowed and highly persuadable. Plus, you were a fish out of water in Exeter, with no resources and few friends locally. You seemed perfect. A mule I could use if needed to temporarily hide the book out of the way.”
Sharyn stared at the others, her face burning, ashamed and guilty.
I got them all into this.
“Unfortunately, I failed to discern your other talents. With everything moving so swiftly, errors were made. Unnecessary delays. But with the book safely diverted, held by an easily secured target, we moved too slowly, too cautiously. Then again, we had much to do that night. Like staging my death. We needed to make it look like one of my students killed me in a ritual. Then, after setting up this tableau and torching the library, Cardinal Tissot and his men were supposed to grab the book, kill you, and leave behind a burned facsimile of Saint-Germain’s text.”
Sharyn found it harder to breathe. She remembered the Rolls parked in front of their flat, pictured the men rushing up the steps.
Before she could find her voice, Laurent challenged him. “But why do all this?”
“Why? To end a long impasse between our two organizations. We were only getting in each other’s way. You must recognize this, Monsieur Laurent. I needed to make it look like this long trail of the book had finally come to an end. No one—not theGardiens, not theConfrérie—would come looking for it if they believed it was destroyed.”
Laurent looked aghast, his eyes flashing with fury. “Yet, you left my calling card with Sharyn. You sent her to me. Why?”
“Extra insurance. If we lost Ms. Karr, I had to ensure that she went somewhere I could still find her. And not just anywhere. Not with the treasure in her possession. The book still needed to be protected, especially from other members of theConfrérie.” He motioned to Marchand. “And at the same time, I had to keep her within my own grasp. TheGardiensserved both of these roles well. With the unwitting help of others in our group, and using various intermediaries and Cardinal Tissot’s assets, I knew you’d be easy to track. That you’d keep in contact. Leave a trail back to Ms. Karr if she went missing.”
Sharyn pictured the attack at the Tower of London, the ambush at the Barbiers’ estate. The bastard had been using his own organization—a group who thought he was dead—to keep tabs on Laurent’s movements.
“But again, you all proved very resourceful. Then went silent on us. If not for those intermediaries within theGardiens, I might have lost you. As the cardinal and I were already gathering talented cryptographers for our cause, we tasked them to hack into theGardiens’ mainframe after it had become evident someone was engaging it from afar.”
Laurent’s jaw muscles tightened, hardening the edges of his face. “To do that, you must have still had your former access codes. No one thought to delete them after your death.”
“Why would they?”
Archie stirred, kneeling next to Duncan. “But youweredead. A medical exam confirmed it was you.”
Julian turned to him. “An easy deception, young man. Tissot found someone of my age and build. Then drugged and hauled him into the library when we all entered, hiding his presence under a robe. As to the rest of the deception, the flames did most of the work, burning away bodily details. We also made sure a beam fell and crushed the skull and jaw to erase any dental comparisons.”
Duncan stirred. “Then how did the coroners mistakenly identify you?”
“Ah, another calling card I left behind.” He rubbed a hand on his chest. “I suffer from arrythmias. Requiring a pacemaker.”
Sharyn remembered Ms. Peele mentioning the professor had a heart condition. The librarian had even offered to stay behind and help him.
