The Book of the Lion by Thomas Perry Read Free Book Online

and he realized this moving image wasn’t live. This had already happened, and nobody was listening. The right hand poured a can of liquid on the sheets. The hands struck a match and tossed it onto the tray. The bright yellow flames rose, flickered and wavered. There was a blue aura around the top as they fluttered a little. Then the picture went black. The video was disconnected.
    The two men looked at each other, speechless. After a thirty second silence, Spanner was the first. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Dominic.”
    Hallkyn gave a little start, as though he had been wakened from sleep. “Eh? No, T.M. It wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could, so generous and brave, as always. It was my fault.”
    The bartender materialized in front of them like a specter. “What can I get you gentlemen?”
    Spanner said, “Single malt Scotch.”
    Hallkyn nodded, more at Spanner than the bartender.
    The bartender said, “We have several single malts. Do you have a favorite?”
    Spanner glanced at the row of bottles on the third shelf above the bar. “That one should do it.”
    â€œLaphroaig?”
    â€œFine. We’d like two glasses and the bottle.”
    The bartender poured the first round, and Spanner poured the second round less than a minute later. They slowed their pace after that, and drank in silence for a time.
    Finally Hallkyn spoke. “I’ve lost your money. I’m afraid it’s much more than I can repay, more than I’ll have in my lifetime. I feel terrible.”
    â€œI don’t want it repaid,” said Spanner. “I can cover that much by myself. The backers I had lined up won’t lose anything. I’ll just send each of them ten percent of what he’d promised to invest, and call it a profit. They’ll all be delighted.” He looked into Hallkyn’s eyes, and his expression changed. “Here’s the important part. This has to remain our secret. Forever. If the people I deal with knew I had been so foolish, my reputation would be destroyed. I rely on investors who trust my judgment and bet billions on my being right. I have to ask you to swear to me that you’ll never tell.”
    Hallkyn leaned back and focused his eyes on Spanner. “Do you think I want this known? If you lost your career now, you’d still be pretty much the man you are—a winner. But all I have is my reputation as a medieval scholar. Do you have any idea what the people in my field would think of the man who got some lunatic to burn Chaucer’s Book of the Lion ? I’d rather die than tell anyone this happened. I’ll swear gladly.”
    Behind the garage of a house fifty miles away, the man finished cleaning up the residue of the little fire he had lit a couple of hours ago. He’d had to wait until the tray was cool enough to touch. Now the ashes and burned remnants had been bagged, then double bagged, and put in the garbage can. It had been an expensive fire. He had bought the vellum from a company that printed diplomas, rough cut and trimmed the sheets himself, and used a projector to trace the design of the top page so it would look like the real Book of the Lion on a video. He’d been pleased. It really had looked a lot like the real one that Uncle Reg had found in the trunk he’d bought at the farm sale in Lankashire after the war. That one was in the climate-controlled room where it belonged.
    He hosed off the tray, wiped the surface dry with paper towels, and then took the tray back into the house and set it on the shelf under the counter in the kitchen. He looked at his watch. It was getting to be just about time.
    He went into his study and sat down at the desk. He scanned his list of names and numbers, and then took out one of the pre-paid cell phones from the drawer on his right. He dialed.
    He waited through four rings and then heard the voicemail message. When it