The Aztec Heresy by Paul Christopher Read Free Book Online Page A

and then a dark set of winding stairs leading to the second floor. Beyond the stairs were two more rooms, a drawing room to the left and a library to the right. More wainscoting and wallpaper.
    Both the drawing room and the library had small fires burning in the grate and both rooms looked out onto a long narrow garden laid out with half a dozen flower beds with several enormous oaks that looked centuries old. The fog was beginning to break up and patches of blue sky could be seen.
    The library had bookcases on three of the four walls, stuffed to overflowing. There were piles of books and papers on every horizontal surface, including stacks of them on the carpet. There was an old desk in front of the window, paper cascading across the scarred surface like drifts of snow. Finn immediately felt at home; her father’s study had looked a lot like this.
    There were two leather armchairs in front of the desk. The old man unceremoniously swept the stacks of books and papers off them and gestured for Finn and Billy to sit down. ‘‘Back in a jif,’’ the old man said and disappeared.
    ‘‘Nice old sort,’’ said Billy, looking around the warm, chaotic room.
    ‘‘According to my information he locked a man into a cabin on a burning ship in the Caribbean. He was an assassin for Israeli intelligence. ’’
    ‘‘Where do you manage to find these people? ’’ Billy said. ‘‘He certainly had me fooled.’’
    A few minutes later the old man appeared with a tray of tea things, including a small plate piled high with an assortment of fancy cookies. He put the tray down on the desk, fixed the tea according to their various preferences, then plucked a bourbon crème biscuit off the plate, sat down in the chair on the far side of the desk, dipped his cookie briefly into his teacup and took a soggy bite.
    ‘‘Teeth aren’t what they used to be,’’ he explained, munching happily. He took a sip of his tea, made a contented sound of appreciation, and sat back against the creaking old leather of his chair. ‘‘If you know me as Martin Kerzner then you must have known Abramo Vergadora at one time or another.’’
    Vergadora was an Italian historian Finn had met two years before while investigating the Lost Legion of Luciferus Africanus and the disappearance of the so-called Lucifer Gospel.
    ‘‘Yes, briefly,’’ answered Finn.
    ‘‘If memory serves, Miss Ryan, you were involved in his murder.’’
    ‘‘I was with him shortly before he was killed, yes,’’ she answered tightly.
    ‘‘In the end responsibility for his death was laid at the feet of Terza Positione, the Third Position, a radical terrorist cell in Italy,’’ said the old man.
    ‘‘You’re well-informed for a retired theology teacher,’’ said Finn.
    ‘‘Have you ever heard of an organization called P-Two, also Italian?’’
    ‘‘No.’’
    ‘‘It stands for Propaganda Due . It was a secret society allied with the Vatican with the intent of fighting Communism by the creation of a paramilitary ‘authoritarian’ democracy in Italy. At one time they had infiltrated every level of Italian society, from university professors and policemen to the prime minster himself. Terza Positione was one of its front groups. P-Two was supposedly outlawed after its discovery during the Vatican bank scandal in 1981 and dissolved.’’
    ‘‘You’re saying it wasn’t?’’
    "Yes. It simply reinvented itself under another name."
    ‘‘ Cavallo Nero, the Order of the Black Knights,’’ said Billy.
    ‘‘Quite right, Lord Pilgrim,’’ the old man answered.
    Billy looked stunned. ‘‘You know who I am?’’
    ‘‘Certainly, and Miss Ryan as well. I am old, my lord, but I am not a fool. My friends in Lausanne gave me ample warning, not to mention the fact that both of you were all over the news last year after your somewhat dramatic escapades in the South China Sea.’’
    ‘‘I’d prefer it if you just called me Billy.’’
    ‘‘Not