No way he could force it open, and there were no windows. He had only one choice. So he ran back to the car and fired up the engine. He sped up the incline to the ridge and focused the headlights on the front door. He came close and stopped, nestling the front bumper to the oak.
Stephanie had told them that this building had been around for centuries. Malone was noted for his effect on historic spots, especially World Heritage Sites. It looked like he was about to join the club. He pumped the accelerator and drove the front end into the door, splintering it inward.
That was easier than he’d thought it would be.
He backed the car away, then shut off the engine and climbed out. Beyond the doorway he saw more black. With his hand he examined the wall just inside and spotted a switch, which he flipped activating a few scattered lights that threw off long streams of radiance illuminating a bare chapel with a gritty stone floor.
His eyes began a brisk, energetic scan of the interior.
Not a sound broke the silence.
The floor stretched maybe fifty feet ahead. He noticed a clear path in the grit leading from the doorway to an altar, then beyond. He stepped in and followed the path, which led to the opposite side and a circular apse.
Where it stopped.
Abruptly.
At the wall.
Before him rose a stone half circle. Three panels, separated by moldings, limestone benches wrapping the semicircle along with a cornice at the top and a line of chiseled molding breaking the center. Had someone walked to here and sat on the bench? Possible. But not likely. The floor was relatively undisturbed except for the footpath to the main door.
He faced the curved wall and tapped it at places with his fist.
Solid.
Whatever there was to find had to be at the center panel. He traced the groove on either side with his fingertips.
Nothing unusual.
The cornice at the top was out of reach, the center molding possessed of no indentations. It was all one piece, carved from the stone. He sat on the bench and stared at the floor. Why not? He dropped to his knees and looked underneath. Nothing there, the stone bench supported by two corbels at either end.
Come on. This can’t be that hard.
He studied the corbels and noticed that they were curvy, extending from the wall to the end of the bench, supporting its weight. A notch existed from the corbel’s end to the stone wall. Maybe an inch. Not much more. He stuck his finger into the space on the right. Nothing. Then the left. And felt an indentation. Circular. With something in it. A button. He pushed. The entire panel shifted inward.
He stood, sucking in the whole Indiana Jones vibe.
He pushed the heavy panel, surprised at its balancing act. It took little effort to move a lot of rock. Blackness loomed beyond. He found another switch and activated more lights. A corridor led to another chapel, this one a bit creepy with a ton of statues and images. Like a visit to a stone Madame Tussauds. He noticed the altar, which had been desecrated with a hole in its lower center.
That seemed like Malone’s signature.
So he kept going, finding another door that led to spiral steps, leading down. He descended to the bottom and saw another light switch, which he activated. More lights sprang to life. He followed a narrow corridor into a room with a hole in the floor.
Which he’d seen before.
In Valletta.
A guva.
What had Laura said?
They were once all over the island. Now only two remained.
Make that three.
He stepped over and gazed down into the blackness, the bottom not visible.
“About damn time,” a voice said from below.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Pollux left the Pwales Valley. He’d just killed three men. Add in the villa owner and James Grant, that made five murders. All regrettable, but necessary.
He’d made a call as soon as he left the chapel, using one of the phones he’d removed from the dead knights, telling the person on the other end to meet him at the Lippija Tower. It sat about ten minutes away from the chapel, a short, squat building from the 17th century, with two floors and a parapet roof facing Gnejna Bay on the northwest coast. He assumed the tower would be deserted at this hour and saw he was right as he drove close and switched off the