Ordo Lupus and the Temple Gate

Part 4

Henry gave me directions and the following morning I stuffed all the books, artifacts and documents I needed into my white Citroën DS and, after calling home to freshen up a bit, drove the 200 km down to Lyon.

I parked in the only space available, a few blocks down from a narrow four-story town house in the inner suburbs, painted in a pale shade of pink, with sky-blue awnings over the tall and narrow windows. I pulled on the antiquated bell-pull outside the paneled front door and a voice echoed in the narrow street from above.

“Push the door when you hear the buzz! Come up to the second floor.”

On the second floor landing Henry was waiting for me, leaning on a silver-topped walking stick and wearing a cream-coloured suit.

His pointed white beard jerked up and down as he welcomed me. “Come in! Come in dear boy.”

He followed me in to his flat but I noticed he moved very slowly and seemed in some discomfort. He was even breathless before he lowered himself onto a Windsor back chair next to a lovely oak dining table against the wall by the window.

“Angina dear boy. Too much good-living in the Army.”

I chuckled politely. “Where were you based?”

“India until the War. Then a spell in Burma.”

He didn’t look at me as he spoke. I knew the fighting in Burma had been some of the most intense in the War. I also knew typhoid and malaria were rife.

“So good to meet you at last dear boy. I hope you don’t mind if I don’t stand. Sherry? Or something else?” His brown eyes danced and glinted behind a delicate pair of gold-rimmed pince-nez glasses as he spoke.

There was a small silver platter with a cut-glass sherry decanter in the centre and three clean glasses upturned next to it.

“Sherry is fine.”

He reached painfully over the table and poured a glass for me.

“Now what wonders have you brought me to look at?”

The first thing I showed him was the book by Edgar de Boulon. I had inserted white cards to mark pages of interest and he read slowly, affirming what he read with quiet ‘um hms’ while I slowly slipped the sherry. It felt very pleasant with a nice cool breeze whispering though the window in the early summer heat. I watched his face closely as he read the section about flying snakes and how they were supposed to constrict space. His eyes looked up at me just once for an instant. He finished reading and sat back in his chair. I knew him well enough from his letters to know that he formed opinions slowly, and gave them seldom, so I didn’t expect an immediate response. He still seemed to be waiting.

“That last passage interests me the most,” I said grinning inanely at him. “I… Do you think I could possibly trouble you for another glass of sherry? Dutch courage!”

“Of course dear boy. Help yourself!”

“You know I was with Annie when she was… murdered? Well I told The Gendarmes that I had not got a good look at the killer but actually I did. My wife thinks I am insane but what I saw most resembled a … snake.” I hadn’t told Henry the details of what I had seen – about the snake – before. A bead of sweat started rolling down my forehead. I knew I could lose a friend now, or gain an ally, if he believed me. “Annie’s body was squeezed … crushed as if by a giant fist or perhaps a large constrictor snake.” I immediately felt the absurdity of what I was saying and felt powerless to back up my description.

“Tell me more about what you saw!” I looked up and Henry was leaning towards me, eagerly waiting to hear more.

I smiled, grateful and relieved at last to find a willing ear. “Well it was huge! It towered over us but you know… I couldn’t see anything clearly. It was as if it were in a dream. Everything shimmered. In fact the air had seemed to be like water when it appeared.”