GREGORY EVANS PAID THE BILL, immediately taking the envelope containing the photographs. They left quickly, very curious to know what they would find there.
They arrived at the Glorieta de Espana to sit on one of the stone benches, around which pigeons and traces of their droppings congregated. Without further delay, Gregory Evans took the envelope and took the snapshots. After separating some that showed the buttresses of the Velez chapel, including the chains and pillars, he found the ones he was looking for.
The image was not very clear, because, even though the lens had been inserted into the hole, the bars still appeared hazily. But there was something they noticed immediately—several buttresses, embedded in the descending wall, plunging into the darkness of an impenetrable hell. What caught their attention most, however, was seeing the stonemason's initials engraved in the stone, about a meter below the base. Once again, Iacobus of Cartago guided them to the place where the best-kept secret on Earth was hidden.
— Good afternoon, miss... Could I speak with the notary?
— The young woman behind the counter observed the newcomer. He was a man in his sixties, attractive, clean-cut, and very well-dressed. Despite his impeccable appearance, she was obliged to follow protocol, so she asked the appropriate question in such cases:
— Do you have a meeting scheduled with Dom Severo? Or did you speak with some of the clerks beforehand, by phone?
The master shook his head, almost feeling guilty for not being able to offer her any other kind of answer.
— The reason for my visit is personal. We are old friends, and I haven't seen you in years.
He waited for the young woman to resolve the matter, but her face remained expressionless. In truth, she was in a bad mood, having worked on a Saturday afternoon.
— Please, would you be so kind as to let me know that the master is here... — he insisted, his voice so sweet that she couldn't deny it.
— Okay... wait a moment.
She picked up the phone and, whispering, exchanged a few words with her boss. After a few seconds, where there had previously been trepidation, attention now blossomed. She apologized before rising from her chair to personally accompany him to the notary's office, who had had to delay the signing of the purchase and sale of some urban land just to see her.
After bidding goodbye with a saccharine cordiality, the young woman returned to her workstation. The master entered the office, shaking his old friend's hand in a rather unusual way, the gestures following one another as if they were part of a telegraph code.
— I have a feeling you have something important to tell me. Otherwise, you wouldn't have brought me here so quickly. — With that, the Master sat across the table from the man he called Phidias, a first-level Freemason, though not a member of the Council of Seven.
— That's right, and I don't think it will please you... — The notary sounded tense. — Our hired assassin cheated.
Ever since meeting her in Cardinal Belluga Square a few days ago, the Master of Masters had decided to send several of his men to follow Sephy's footsteps, verifying that she was fulfilling the contract's requirements correctly. The truth is, after meeting her in person, there was something in her character that didn't fully convince him. After that, he believed it best to keep her under surveillance until she finished the job.
— Explain yourself. — The Master showed some interest in what he had just heard.
— The next morning, she went to a Madrid copy shop, located near the university complex — he said in a low voice.
— The next morning, she went to a Madrid copy shop, located near the university complex — he said in a low voice. — Those who followed her, trustworthy brothers, assure us that she carried with her a parchment several centuries old. She made a copy, which she then faxed. When she left, our men questioned the clerk, posing as police officers. The girl, unsuspecting, agreed to help them, telling them she had sent the message to a number in Berlin...
The master felt the ground give way beneath his feet. If it was what he imagined, it could be catastrophic. He noticed a strange tingling sensation in his lips, which were pressed together.
— I know how you feel — Phidias added, amid the silence of the Master of Masters. — I also thought about the consequences that could arise from this brat's opportunism...— He wrinkled his nose. — Now, the important thing is to recover the manuscript before it falls into other people's hands, and to find out who it was sent to, so that the problem can be corrected quickly.
— Good heavens! How could we be so stupid? — The master reproached himself, remembering Balkis's words after the meeting held at the Velez-Blanco fortress. We ourselves piqued his curiosity by turning Iacobus's manuscript into a weapon of power.
Anyone would realize how important that must have been, to the point of condemning a man to death... Phidias grimaced. Like all of us, however, I imagined that professionals of that caliber would only care about doing their job well and collecting their fees.
The Master of Masters nodded twice.
— That was our mistake. We let our guard down — he added ruefully, his face contorted with the anger that filled him.
— There's nothing we can't fix.
— You're right, and that's what we'll do as soon as she finishes her work in Madrid... — He acknowledged internally that they were sufficiently qualified to resolve any incident. — However, as you rightly pointed out, we need to know the name of the person who is her accomplice. It's best if you personally take charge of investigating. Call our brothers there so they can give us more details.
— And what do we do with Sephy?
— Leave it to me. I think I'll put pressure on that bastard.
The notary simply nodded. He didn't want to be indiscreet by asking any more questions.
Then they shook hands again. The master left the office and went to the reception desk. He thanked the young secretary for her trouble, to which she responded with one of those polite phrases that invite you to come back whenever you want. Head down and thoughtful, he sought anonymity, stepping out onto the street to mingle with the passersby.
After a short walk, he reached where he had parked his car. Upon entering, he took his laptop from the glove compartment. He opened it carefully, his mind still racing over Brother Phidias's words. Within seconds, he was connected to the internet.
He went to Corpsson's website. The virtual space of the São Paulo-based security and escort company, known as "The City That Cannot Stop," immediately appeared on the screen. He pressed the contact icon. He had to send his complaints to the Agency. They would take care of resolving this unpleasant incident.