The Prophecy - 7. Chapter 7

Antoine Lambert took off his glasses and wiped them. He put them on again and looked between Jason and Leonard sceptically.

"This all sounds very weird to me, messieurs, and usually I’d shrug it off, but you came all the way from London to Paris just in order to talk with me. I can offer you to do some research. In fact, I already have an idea where to start with. And more so, I already have a general idea where my research will lead me to," he said. He looked between them. "I've studied church history for many decades. In fact, I can say I know it all inside out. Must you go back to London at once? If not so, we could meet again in the evening and I will report my results to you."

Jason and Leonard exchanged a look.

"I brought my bag," Leonard said.

"We have already thought of staying in Paris for the night," Jason added. "Is there a hotel you can recommend, Mr. Lambert?"

"Not a hotel, but guestrooms. I will ask a good friend of mine. She's in fact my fiancée of twenty years," Lambert said with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. "I'll go and call her."

He rose from his chair, approached the counter and spoke to the man behind it. The man handed him a telephone. Lambert spoke rapidly to someone, tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter.

"Naturellement, Geraldine, naturellement," he cried exaltedly. The woman apparently answered as Lambert listened attentively for a minute. "Eh bien non!" he cried into the receiver and abruptly hung up the phone. He hissed at the waiter and snipped his fingers when the man did not turn to him instantly.

"I’m not sure whether it is the language or whether it is him, but I’m under the impression that Mr. Lambert is a very impatient man," Jason said.

"No wonder the woman did not marry him," Leonard said drily.

Jason snickered in response.

"Frenchmen," Leonard said simply.

They left the restaurant together. Antoine Lambert had paid the bill. He gave them a piece of paper with his fiancée’s address and told them that the woman was awaiting them.

"Everything is arranged, messieurs," he said, and then he waved for a taxi and without one more word or look jumped into it.

Jason and Leonard watched the taxi drive around a corner. Leonard rolled his eyes whereas Jason snickered again.

They arrived at Madame Geraldine Lefèvre’s urban house an hour later. Like Lambert had said, the woman was already waiting for them. She was in her forties, slim, well-groomed, manicured and elegantly dressed. She welcomed them with an amiable smile and she spoke very good English. Geraldine Lefèvre led them into her house and showed them to their rooms, each one spacious, elaborately furnished and decorated. Each room had a separate bathroom. Leonard and Jason were somewhat stunned. The elegant woman asked if they wanted coffee after they had refreshed. They accepted the offer and half an hour later she led them to a parlour. The windows were high, the furniture was white and the decorations were of rose and green colour. The sun was shining into the room.

"I understood you will stay in Paris for only one day and one night," Madame Lefèvre said after graciously taking a sip of coffee. "You must not miss a tour through the city. I would take you around myself, but I have matters to attend to. But if you like, messieurs, I will arrange a tour for you."

"We don’t want to cause you inconveniences," Leonard replied.

"Je vous en prie," Madame Lefèvre said. "No trouble at all, messieurs."

She reached out her hand and seized her cell phone from a side table, typed a number and then spoke exaltedly into the receiver. She closed her phone and smiled amiably at Jason and Leonard.

"My niece Amélie will be here in short and take you around in her car. Antoine will be here at seven and we will have dinner at eight," she said.

Her niece arrived twenty minutes later. The girl was in her early twenties and looked curiously between the two men. They left the urban villa and climbed into Amélie’s car, and then the girl drove them to the major places of interest. She drove rapidly, ignoring traffic signs, and she incessantly spoke to them. She tried to impress them with her tour guide qualities and more so with her American accent. She had been in Boston for a year as an exchange student. Jason bought her a chocolate heart in a patisserie after they had finished the tour. Amélie kissed Jason on the cheeks. Waving her hand, she started the car and drove away. Leonard and Jason climbed the entrance stairs of the urban villa.

"Love is all that matters. Just a cliché, but they do the best to sustain it. Frenchmen," Leonard said. He gave Jason a sideways look. "A chocolate heart. One more week and you'll be like them. It seems you’re in fact sensitive to the influences of foreign cultures."

Jason gave a laugh and then rang the bell. Geraldine let them in. Antoine Lambert had already arrived. He was having a coffee in the parlour.

"Bonsoir, messieurs. Did you enjoy your tour? Did you like Paris?" Lambert asked, rising from his chair.

He invited them to sit down and after a few minutes of small talk he took a sheet of paper out of a briefcase that he had placed on a chair.

"I've summarized for you what I have found out," he said. "Not much, but it could be important to you, although I cannot judge on this." He cleared his throat. "Like I mentioned in that footnote years ago, the abbot wrote a letter to the king and informed him of having banned four men from the cloister. He claimed that they were in league with the devil and accused them of being at fault for the death of a young man. I don’t know what exactly happened and neither can I say why he claimed they were in league with the devil, but I suspect that they had committed a deed that in the eyes of the abbot was a terrible sin. I suspect they broke the Ten Commandments. The abbot claimed the four men were at fault of the death of a man, so he most likely accused them of having murdered the man or at least of having approved of his death." Lambert looked up. "I think this is more or less what you have already guessed from the abbot’s letter," he said.

Jason and Leonard nodded. Lambert continued.

"I remembered something that I once read about: Bernhard’s Abbey in Hemiksem, a town south of Antwerp, Belgium. The abbey was a Cistercian convent. I did some research and I actually found an interesting detail in a document that was preserved, a letter from a nobleman to his brother. He advised him to not send his third son to St. Bernhard’s Abbey as he had news that the cloister had admitted four villains, former Black Monks, who had fled their convent near Paris. He did not go into details as to what was the crime they had committed, but he advised his brother to decide against St. Bernhard’s Abbey as this was not a holy place anymore."

Lambert looked up.

"I think this is an obvious connection," he said. "In 1836 the remaining monks bought the empty premises of Bornem Abbey and leaving Hemiksem for good, re-settled it as the still-existent St. Bernhard’s Abbey in Bornem, a town south of Antwerp. I’m certain they have also resettled the monastic library and the archive. There you can find out more about the four men and their possible victim," he said.

"This is far more than what we had expected, Mr. Lambert," Leonard said. "You helped us a lot. My honest thanks for it."

Antoine Lambert smiled briefly, and then put the sheet of paper back into his briefcase.

"I’m afraid I cannot help you more, but although I know church history inside out, I have not researched on such details, of course. I was interested more in the big picture, the political influences the church had and, naturellement, their relations with the meritocracy et cetera," he said.

"Certainly," Leonard replied politely.

"We could visit the abbey on our way back to London. It wouldn’t be much of a detour," Jason said.

"This is exactly what I was going to suggest," Antoine Lambert said.

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Madame Lefèvre looked into the room and smiled amiably at the men.

"Dinner will be served in about fifteen minutes. What about an aperitif, messieurs?" she asked.

"Bonne idée, ma chérie," Antoine Lambert replied.

He rose to his feet and made an inviting gesture with his hand. Leonard and Jason stood also and Madame Lefèvre led them to the dining-room. They had an exquisite four-course meal.

Jason and Leonard parted the following morning. Antoine Lambert had come to say goodbye. Geraldine Lefèvre stood by the window of the parlour and watched Jason and Leonard climb into their car. She turned to Lambert who was sitting in a chair, raised her eyebrows and gave him a questioning look. Lambert gave a brief nod in return. Geraldine seized her cell phone from the side table, typed a number and spoke briefly to someone.

Twenty minutes later, a black Bugatti Veyron left Paris. The driver passed by Saint-Denis and drove in the direction of Antwerp, Belgium.