Chapter 2: An old friend

Flying Business Class has its advantages, better food, better drinks, more space, etc. But there is always the same when you finally arrive at your destination: customs examination and luggage counter. If those wouldn't exist i could really enjoy a flight, but after some activities of terrorists the controls have been reinforced again and again.

Best of all, my luggage had been accidentally put on a flight only-god-knows-where. So i only had what i was wearing now, and my hand-luggage. Great... the only thing which saved my day from being a total desaster was the carefully wrapped package in my briefcase, and Allan.

Allan Cordwyn is one of the few real friends i've got. Just imagine a bear walking on two legs, and a roughcut but friendly face. Now put it all in a suit, add a deep voice, a huge amount of charisma, a very sharp mind, and you'll have quite a close idea of him. He's certainly not a handsome guy, but he's something very rare today – he's absolutely trustworthy.

"Hey Shay, over here!“ the thundering voice of Allan was unmistakeable. I waved and slowly walked to his side.

"How was your trip, and did you find it?“ his smile almost reached from ear to ear as he opened the door of his car for me.

"I acquired the antiquity we were hired to look for, about the rest we will have to talk later.“

As he heard my tone his smile immediately vanished.

"Trouble?“ he asked, i only nodded.

The drive seemed very short. He had a little office in one of the many suburbs of London and as we sank into the leatherchairs, he changed from friend to businessman.

"Well, lets first see what we got that it deserves a price of 100000£. It must be very special that our client is offering so much. Then we can talk about the rest“ I opened my briefcase and carefully unwrapped the bundle.

"It's definitely an old handmade book about witchcraft dating from the 12^th century. The pages were written with a strange red ink which i wasn't able to identify... we would need a laboratory for that. But the biggest mystery is the language and the used script. The later pages are clearly latin, but look at the first pages... these symbols and drawings don't fit in at all. Either these were made by a madman, or they are much much older than the rest. But all these things don't really matter...“ i had to stop and clear my throat "i think we should destroy it!“

Any other person would have been throtteled now, only for suggesting to break a contract. He only looked at me and asked "I know you for many years now, and you never even considered breaking your word. Why now?“

"This damn thing is cursed“ i wasn't able to look into his eyes any longer.

There was a short moment of silence, then his roaring laughter filled the room.

"Damn... Shay... you got me there. I almost believed you were serious about destroying that book.“ then he noticed my face "Lord, you are serious...“

He just walked over to his bar, filled a glass with a generous portion of his scotch, and put it in front of me.

"Don't even think about refusing the glass, and don't think about giving me a short answer to my next questions. What scares you so much, and why should we destroy the book?“

Sipping a bit of the scotch, i collected my thoughts.

"First of all, we were not the only ones looking for the book. The widow of the previous owner was contacted by two other parties, but she refused them. When i picked it up she was clearly frightened, and she urged me to leave her country fast. The next day she was dead, murdered! My hotelroom was searched, although they tried to hide the fact...“ i took another sip. "I think it was done by a professional, not just a common thief, 'cause i almost didn't notice.“

"Come on, this all might be coincidence.“ Allan interrupted.

"It might“ i agreed "but there are some things about this book which worry me. The previous owner, Mr. Kharnov, killed himself, but he left a note. He wrote that the shadows are walking again in human disguise, he made a picture of a man which he left together with his book, and the same guy is following me all the time. I noticed him at the sale, and then in Prague again. He was even at the airport today. In Prague is a painting from the 14^th century with the same guy on it, so Kharnov took a photo of someone who should be dead for around 600 years, and he's following me!“ i handed him the picture in addition to the ones i had made with my digicam.

"I also checked on the last dozen owners of the book. Each person either went mad, or comitted suicide. All the medical files about the mad ones mention paranoia, nightmares, and some talk about demons, shadows in disguise, and gates to hell. The scary thing is, i'm lately having real bad nightmares too... they started the day i bought this book.“

We talked for some hours, but in the end he convinced me that i only needed some days off. The only thing left for today, was to deliver the book to our client.

Mrs. Sullivan had insisted that it would be me to deliver it in person... maybe a bit unusual, but in this business a paying customer makes the rules. Besides, we had worked for her on some occasions already, and she had always paid extremely well.

In the end Allan managed to disperse most of my worries, and i felt much better. To my surprise he had also given me the keys to one of his cars, something he had never done before. I still had some time to shop for clothing and in the evening i'd make the delivery.

Allan sat behind his desk watching the street below, as his black jaguar left the garage. He hesitated for a second, then picked up his phone and dialed a number. It was a number  which was reserved for emergencies only.