COLMENARES LEFT around nine o'clock, but not before leaving Gregory Evans a copy of the office key and promising him they would meet again the following morning. Antonia, exhausted after repeatedly examining Toledo's manuscript, took off her glasses and stretched out. She was truly tired. A severe headache added to the irritating burning in her eyes.
— It looks like our investigation is getting more complicated as we go along — Greg's voice held a hint of desperation — and that means Geovanna and her uncle could pay dearly for our incompetence.
— I don't think so. We just need to approach the matter from a different perspective. — She rubbed her nose up and down with her index finger and thumb. — We need to review all the information we've gathered, comparing the coincidences, until we find a reliable clue that leads us to the region of Tubal-cain, as the stonemason says in his manuscript. Once we know the correct location of the Ark, it will be easier for us to find the kidnappers.
— Monroe assured him that it was the city of Enoch.
— Did he mention anything to you about the pillars that Tubal-cain and his brothers built to preserve the knowledge of God?
— Yes... — the detective said, stifling a yawn. — You could say he's a scholar on the subject. He knows almost as much as a Freemason.
— And doesn't that seem strange to you? — There were certain details that didn't fit with the kidnapping issue, so he decided to delve deeper into his concerns by sharing them with Evans.
— Loneliness is terrible sometimes — he commented, as if that justified the pastime of a man condemned to live with himself.
— I know what you mean, but I'm not just referring to his obsession with Freemasonry — the cryptographer insisted.
— I don't understand what you're getting at — Greg looked at her intrigued.
— Yes, you know what I mean — she was direct and blunt.
— I'm telling you, it seems quite suspicious that you're not dead. So far, The Widow's Sons have eliminated everyone who snooped into the shop's secrets. It makes no sense that they'd allow you to live, and on top of that, contact you by letter. And to complicate matters, we have the story of Casilda, the maid, claiming that Umbert called her from the airport... — She paused for a moment to observe his reaction, but Gregory Evans seemed impassive. — ...I'm sorry, but I don't think the kidnappers were so stupid as to walk past everyone in the terminal.
— They might have made the call from any other phone.
— Maybe... — the redhead admitted weakly, — or perhaps the cleaning lady came to that conclusion herself. The hustle and bustle of people and the voices coming from megaphones in the background is a constant in airports.
— I know where you're going with this conversation. And, with all due respect, I won't allow it... — He frowned and gritted his teeth. — Geovanna and Monroe's honesty isn't under suspicion, and my motto is: everyone is suspect until the evidence proves me right.
— Your statement is completely useless if I'm right and your friends belong to the store, Antonia continued.
— Although it's also possible that I was mistaken, but if that's not the case and my deduction is correct, we'd be falling into their game.
— Even a brilliant mind like yours could have missed something completely obvious.
— Don't go down that path... — he warned, serenely banging his fist on the tabletop. — Now, more than ever, I need to be optimistic.
— Okay, but don't tell me I didn't warn you.
Anger seized the detective again. However, instead of losing his composure and telling her what he thought — which he really wanted to do — he opted for patience, swallowing his pride. That woman, who lost all her charm when she overstepped her bounds, was the only one who could decipher the enigma of the hieroglyphics and find a way to reach the missing men, but... was she really as capable as Nicolas had claimed, or was she simply boasting about her knowledge?
He decided to check it out for himself.
— Let's talk about something else... — Gregory Evans changed the conversation — for example... could you explain to me the fact that there would be a reasonable theory about the meaning of the Philosopher's Stone?
Antonia burst out laughing. She soon discovered his intention, to discredit her.
— I see you remember the conversation we had the night we had dinner at the hotel.
— And why would I forget? — he smiled scathingly and added: I've always wanted to know the origin of that stone that made the heads of medieval alchemists spin.
— I thought you were only interested in crime in New York.
I was trying again. I intended to know everything.
— Not only do I solve them, but from time to time, I also commit them — the detective replied, with a touch of irony. — And through my hands have passed true works of art that not even Agatha Christie and Conan Doyle dared imagine. Lots of talk, but none of it explains clearly how one manages to distill the philosopher's stone. —
— The explanation offered to us by authentic alchemists is that the Philosopher's Stone is not a stone, but a personal experience based on the metamorphosis that the spirit undergoes when it is freed from the heavy burden that sin carries.
— Explain this to me — Gregory Evans was curious.
— I share Plato's idea that knowledge is what allows us to act well, and that if we act badly only out of ignorance, it is because we are unaware of virtue. Man's great and only sin is to deny God, and this is blasphemy. As Fulcanelli said in his book The Mystery of the Cathedrals, — The apostate leaves his garments inside the church. — Peter, the most rebellious of the twelve apostles, denied Christ three times. Therefore, Jesus said he was rock, and that upon this rock he would build his Church, because we all renounce Him at some point in our lives. Even the disciple who loved Him above all else made the mistake of turning his back on Him. This is the true reason he sacrificed his life, to reassemble sinners like stones in a temple. It is as Jesus Christ said: — I have not come for the righteous, but for sinners.
— I think I got lost... — the detective felt more and more confused.
Antonia wrote on the paper: "LAPSI".
— Latin was the most widely spoken language at the time of Christ — the cryptographer added categorically. — Hebrew was spoken, but officially, Judea was a province subject to Rome. You may have noticed that Peter is a name of Roman, not Jewish, origin.
— Where are you going with this?
— Jesus was an initiate whose family belonged to the Essene community. According to the story, they guarded the Ark of the Covenant and were the guardians of God's secret, or, what amounts to the same thing, they shared the same work with the Widow's Sons. We know that Freemasons are fond of divination, hieroglyphics, and anagrams, so it occurred to me to mix the words to see if they formed another Latin word... Bingo! The answer appeared as if by magic. Then he wrote again: — LAPSI.
— Lapsi, as you may already know, is a Latin word that literally means: the fallen... — he raised an eyebrow — ...the sinners or deserters. — Novatian's rigor, in the second and third centuries AD, condemned those who had renounced the faith. Likewise, God condemns us to the pursuit of knowledge in a world gone mad, ruled by barbarism, where we will remain trapped until we are able to overcome ignorance, paving the way through Wisdom.
Distilling the philosopher's stone consists in acquiring knowledge through which man can turn his back on the world and find the path that leads to enlightenment.
Nosce te ipsum... Know yourself and you will know God.
— And where are we supposed to look for Wisdom? — Gregory Evans thought Antonia was crazier than she let on, but decided to play along.
— In the Council of the Gods, a book attributed to Hermes Trismegistus, it is said that Zeus gave Hermes himself the knowledge of the forces of nature, as well as the names of the spirits that governed them, to hide somewhere where man could not find it... — she began, speaking very seriously. — After a while, Zeus asked him where he had hidden the divine knowledge. He replied: 'I kept it where man would never dare to look.' The God of Wind asked: 'Did you hide it in the strongest breath of my kingdom?' And Hermes replied: ' No, for one day men will surely go to the breaths of the wind and be able to find it.' He was questioned in the same way by the God of the Sea, the God of Earth, and the God of Fire, and they all received the same answer, but according to the elements they governed...
She made a strange face and continued:
— Zeus, tired of waiting for an answer that never came, asked again: "If it is not in the wind, nor in the sea, nor in the earth, nor in the fire... where did you hide the sacred knowledge?" Hermes said: "In the deepest part of man, where not even he himself can find it."
— It's a nice story, but I don't see how it can help us — the detective said.
— You wanted to know, and I answered. At least learn something from the old story of Hermes.
He ignored the comment and checked his watch. It was ten o'clock at night. They had been together for six hours, and he was tired. Now he couldn't suppress a slight yawn.
— I will try to think about it tonight — he said in a low voice.
— Now we must go.
— You're right... — Antonia stood up, grabbing her bag that was hanging off the back of her chair. — Sephy is home alone, and we haven't had dinner yet. I hope she's looking for something in the kitchen... otherwise she'll starve to death. — She laughed at the thought.
Evans remembered Monroe's daughter. There was something about that young woman he didn't like. Still, he tried to hide his apprehension by showing interest in her.
— You must be really having a hard time, knowing your father could die at any moment... — he sighed. — My advice is that you don't confuse her with stories of alchemists and Freemasons anymore. That would make her question our wisdom.
— Don't worry. I'm not that naive... — she went to the door and asked — What time will we see each other tomorrow?
— Colmenares said he preferred around ten in the morning.
— Okay... — the cryptographer said after a few seconds of hesitation. — And you? What are you going to do now? — she asked curiously.
— Something very annoying... I'll stay a little longer to collect all this — he explained, indicating the messy paperwork on the table. — I'll go to my apartment soon. I need to check some information online.
— As you wish... — He gave her a fleeting smile before leaving. — See you tomorrow, then.
— Goodbye — he said thoughtfully.