Michael Cordy - The Source
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Michael Cordy worked for ten years in marketing before giving itall up to write. He lives in London with his wife and daughter.
www.rbooks.co.uk
THE SOURCE
www.rbooks.co.uk
Also by Michael Cordy
The Messiah Code
The Crime Code
The Lucifer Code
The Venus Conspiracy
For more information on Michael Cordy and his books, see hiswebsite at www.michaelcordy.com
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
ISBN 9781409080367
Version 1.0
www.randomhouse.co.uk
TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS
6163 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA
A Random House Group Company
www.rbooks.co.uk
First published in Great Britain
in 2008 by Bantam Press
an imprint of Transworld Publishers
Copyright Michael Cordy 2008
Michael Cordy has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designsand Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, anyresemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 9781409080367
Version 1.0
The reproduction of the Voynich Cipher on pages 19, 20, 189, 233 and 234 areby courtesy of the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.
This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
Addresses for Random House Group Ltd companies outside the UKcan be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk
The Random House Group Ltd Reg. No. 954009
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
For Phoebe
The Voynich Cipher Manuscript featured in this novel exists.Every detail of its appearance, unique text, bizarre illustrations andknown history is accurately described. The reproduced pages arefrom the original, which resides in Yale University's Beinecke RareBook and Manuscript Library. Despite the best attempts of leadingscholars and experts, including the cryptographers of America'svaunted National Security Agency, it has never been deciphered. Tothis day the Voynich Cipher remains the most mysteriousmanuscript in the world.
Michael Cordy
London, 2008
Rome, 1561
When his eyes scan the small crowd she forces herself not to lookaway. If he is strong enough to endure this, then she is strongenough to watch.
He hobbles on bandaged feet, charred and broken by theInquisition's torturers, as the executioner makes him a final offer:recant and be garrotted mercifully before being tied to the stake, orrefuse and be burnt alive. His eyes find hers and, defiantly, heshakes his head. She wants to signal her support and her love, butshe cannot move. She is mesmerized by what is happening, and inshock from what he has asked her to do.
What she has vowed to do.
The auto de fe is being held at night, in the torchlit courtyard ofan anonymous church in the outskirts of Rome. A small group, lessthan twenty, has gathered round the lone stake. The Holy MotherChurch has no desire to publicize this heretic's death or his heresy.She catches a flash of red in her peripheral vision, but doesn'tdivert her gaze when the Grand Inquisitor, Cardinal PrefectMichele Ghislieri, steps forward in his scarlet robes. The GrandInquisitor has 'relaxed' the heretic to the secular authorities toperform the execution so the Holy Mother Church can abide byits maxim: ecclesia abhorret a sanguine, the Church shrinksfrom blood. But this is still his show. And with fire there will be noblood.
'Burn his book with him,' the Grand Inquisitor orders. 'Burn theDevil's book with the heretic.' There is a moment of consternationas the executioner and the clerics search him and find nothing.'Where is it?'
A jolt of fear surges through her but the condemned man stayssilent.
'Heretic, surrender the book or face the consequences.'
A bitter laugh. 'What more can you do to me?'
'Burn him,' orders the Inquisitor.
The men drag him to the platform and rope him to the stake.They pile the final bundles of wood around the base, then applytorches. As the fire catches, she prays he will suffocate before theflames reach his flesh. Clutching the crucifix he gave her, she holdshis gaze until the acrid smoke obscures his face. Only then does sheallow the tears to come. As the smoke rises into the night sky andhis flesh starts to burn to cook the sweet, disconcertinglyfamiliar smell sickens her. His screams are mercifully short, but shetakes little comfort from that.
When the flames are at their height the Grand Inquisitor and hisretinue leave. Then the others dissolve gradually into the night.Alone, she waits until only bone, ash and glowing embers are left.Then she approaches the pyre and collects what she can of hisremains. As she bends she feels the manuscript concealed in herrobes and hopes this 'Devil's book' is worth his torture and agonizingdeath. And she prays that it justifies the terrifying vow she madeto him before he died.
'In time all will be revealed,' she whispers, as she walks off intothe dark night. 'Time reveals all.'
The Devil's Book
Switzerland, four and a half centuries later
He felt no fear at first, only sadness that it should end like this. Hehad made a fortune, amassed a portfolio of properties around theworld, learnt several languages and bedded more beautiful womenthan he could remember, yet it seemed meaningless now. He hadlived alone and would die alone, unremarked and unremembered,his body fed to animals or buried under concrete in a building site.It would be as if he had never lived, never existed.
'Kneel in the middle of the plastic sheet.'
As he knelt, hands clasped as if in prayer, he noted the surgicalsaw, Ziploc plastic bag and roll of duct tape by the killer's right foot.He didn't need to look up at the Glock 19 semi-automatic pistol inthe assassin's left hand to know what was coming. He knew theprocedure better than anyone: he had invented it. First there wouldbe two bullets to the head. His left hand would be severed andplaced in the Ziploc bag, then his body wrapped in the black plasticsheet and sealed with the duct tape. Finally, a vulture squad wouldbe called to dispose of his corpse, and the killer would deliver hissevered left hand to the client as proof of death.
'You know who I am?' the killer asked.
He nodded. 'La mano sinistra del diavolo, the left hand of theDevil. The most feared assassin in the world.'
'My real name. Do you know my real identity? Look at me. Lookat my face.'
It was now that the fear came paralysing fear. He couldn't lookup. He was too frightened of what he would see.
'Look at me,' the killer ordered. 'Look into the eyes of the manwho destroyed your life and damned you to Hell for ever.'
He looked up slowly. His heart seemed to stop in his chest. Thekiller's face was his own. As he trembled in terror, the din of fiercebarking pierced his nightmare and dragged him to consciousness.
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