"Or was just awfully d.a.m.ned curious to find out what was inside the box."

"Hey, wait a minute. What's this?" He picked up one end of a length of rope. The other end was tied to an eyehook screwed into a large square plank on the floor. He tugged on the rope and lifted the edge of the plank.

Ravenwood's eyebrows lifted along with it. "A trapdoor."

"Brilliant deduction, Watson." He opened it all the way, pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and shined it into the void. He turned and looked at Ravenwood. The expression he saw on her face was exactly like that of his daughter when she was five years old and had just witnessed their cat giving birth to three kittens. "You up for a little adventure?"

She gave him a look that said 'are you kidding?' There was no way in h.e.l.l she was pa.s.sing this up. "After you, Sherlock."

The hooded figure, with arms raised high, called forth the demon.

"Harok uzni hadahs. Harok uzni hadahs. Harok uzni hadahs! Lilit, eighth Offspring of the Old Ones! Demon! Succubus! Thou who dost invade the bodies of men to steal their seed! Come! Carry me to the eighth of nine and light the path for my return! Then we shall be as One! Harok uzni hadahs!"

The eighth candle began vibrating furiously, its flame rising, flaring, flooding the room with a blasphemous blast of light.

The pet.i.te young nurse Callahan gently wiped Cowl's forehead with a cool, moist cloth. She had only seen him once before as a frenetic powerhouse of energy in a music video. It wasn't her type of music but, she had to admit, he was one s.e.xy specimen. Now, if it were not for the nearly imperceptible indications that he was still alive, he could have been mistaken for a corpse. She folded the wet cloth and was about to leave when she thought she heard him speak.

She glanced at the monitor but it registered no change. She leaned in close to him, put her ear next to his mouth and in one sudden swipe he grabbed her arm. His eyes flew open, expressionless, gla.s.sy, staring straight at the ceiling. Callahan screamed and struggled to pull away but his grip tightened, squeezing into her flesh. Dr. Halverson heard the screams echoing down the corridor. He grabbed an orderly and they hurried toward the room.

The orderly rushed in and pried Cowl's fingers from Callahan's arm and pulled her away from the bed.

Dr. Halverson approached with caution.

Cowl's arm relaxed and fell to the bed. His eyelids fluttered and slowly closed. In a moment he reverted back into a calm state of unconsciousness.

Halverson checked the patient's vitals. Everything appeared normal. "d.a.m.ndest thing I've ever seen," he said. He turned to Nurse Callahan who was still cowering next to the orderly. She was badly shaken but otherwise unharmed. "You say he spoke to you?"

She shook her head. "II thought so. Just a whisper, really."

"What did he say?"

"I'm not sure. Sounded something like... 'Lilith'."

Ravenwood followed Kane through the trapdoor, down the ladder, into the void and through the first door of the tunnel.

Kane spotted the small light bulbs strung along the wire hanging from the overhead. He found the antiquated light switch with the red and green b.u.t.tons. He pushed the green one and the old yellowed bulbs flickered and filled the tunnel with a dim, eerie glow.

Ravenwood touched the badly decomposing brick wall. A chunk fell out and landed at her feet. "Creepy place. Wonder where it leads?"

"I don't know," Kane said as they moved along. "But, if my internal compa.s.s is right, I'd say we're heading straight for the house."

"You're packing, of course."

"Of course. You?"

"Never leave home without it."

"American Express?"

"Glock-23."

"That'll work."

They came to another door, stepped across the threshold and found themselves in the small enclosure at the end of the tunnel.

The Doppelganger administered the final, horrendous act upon his helpless victim and recited the closing words of the ritual.

Alashem-barah-alashem! Lilit, eighth Offspring of the Old Ones! Demon! Succubus! Thou who dost invade the bodies of men to steal their seed!I give this soul to you! Aum-ha!

The hooded figure rolled the lifeless body over onto its back. The man's shirt was ripped open, his trousers crumpled into a wad at his ankles. The red welts of the branded symbols, seared into his flesh, were a work of art. The hooded figure took a moment to admire his handiwork and then simply vanished from the scene and reappeared inside the Inner Sanctum.

Kane spotted the ladder and looked up.

"Another trapdoor," Ravenwood said. "We must be directly under the house."

"One way to find out," Kane said. He started up the ladder but Ravenwood grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him back.

He tugged his arm away. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"

She raised a finger to her lips and pulled out her gun. "I thought I heard something," she whispered. "Sounded like the floor creaked. Like someone's moving around up there."

"You're imagining things."

"Am I?"

Kane decided to trust her instincts and drew his gun. They waited in silence for several minutes, listening.

Nothing.

Ravenwood holstered her gun and shrugged. "Okay, so I have a vivid imagination."

Kane groaned and moved up the ladder. When he reached the top he turned and looked down at Ravenwood. The anxiety on her face made him grin. She didn't grin back. He reached up, pressed a hand against the trapdoor and pushed it open just a crack but it was too dark to see much of anything. He shined his light through the opening and glanced back at Ravenwood. He pushed the trapdoor open enough to pull himself through and scanned the room. "Clear," he said.

Ravenwood climbed up after him.

Kane sniffed the air. "Smell something?"

Ravenwood moved over beside him. "Yeah. Smells like..." She paused for a moment. "...like burnt candles."

Kane moved the flashlight around and noticed something odd near one corner of the room. A large portion of the carpet was rolled back. They walked toward it and stopped in their tracks. The beam from the flashlight illuminated the large Lucifer Seal painted on the floor. It was surrounded by nine bra.s.s candleholders, minus the candles. Eight were covered with drippings of white wax and one was still clean and untarnished.

"Well, well," Kane said. "What have we here?"

Ravenwood knelt down and inspected the candleholders. She looked up at Kane. "The wax drippings are still soft. I was right. Someone was here."

Kane raised his gun. "Maybe still is here."

He wielded the flashlight around for another quick scan of the room and spotted the big oak desk and the lamp. He moved quickly to the lamp and switched it on.

Now that they could see their surroundings, they were even less sure about what sort of room they were in.

"Weird," Kane said. "No windows, no doors. There must be some way to get in and out of here besides that tunnel. Someone was definitely in here just minutes ago. Where the h.e.l.l could they go? And who the h.e.l.l was it?"

"And what the h.e.l.l is that?" Ravenwood said.

"What's what?"

She joined him in front of the desk and picked up the urn. "This." She held it under the light of the desk lamp. The light glinted off the faceted edges of the strange ruby-like gem. She read the inscription below it. She turned to Kane, her narrowed eyes expressing something between disbelief and utter amazement. "Do you know what this is?"

"I'm guessing it's a cinerary urn."

"Not just any cinerary urn," she said, handing it to him.

He moved it around in the dim light until he could read the inscription. "Aleister Alexander Crowley. No way. Let's see if he's still in there." He lifted the lid and peered inside, then tipped it and tapped it against his hand. "Nada. Empty."

"This has got to be the legendary long lost urn of Crowley's ashes."

"Looks to me like they're still lost."

"I'm betting they were here, in the urn, in this room."

"So, where'd they go?"

"Probably used in a ceremonial ritual."

She explained the bizarre ritual to Kane.

He rolled his eyes. "Christ. Just when I think I've heard it all. So what do you mean the urn was lost? What legend?"

She gave him a Cliff-Notes version of the story behind the mysterious disappearance of the urn.

"You mean it was just gone?"

"Yes. According to the story, Germer dug all around the tree but the urn was gone. Vanished without a trace. No one ever knew what became of it."

"And you really think this is it?"

"Recognize the design cut into that gemstone?"

He took a closer look. "Jesus. It's the same as the symbol branded onto the foreheads of the dead preachers. That complex version of the Lucifer Seal. Same thing that's..." he swung the flashlight around "... painted on the floor over there."

Ravenwood was only half listening. Her full attention was focused on another item on the desk. She picked it up.

Kane set the urn down and moved closer to her. "What is it?"

"Incredible."

He moved around behind her and looked over her shoulder.

"It's a diary," she said, thumbing through the pages. "It seems to be the diary of Michael Moorehouse, the son of the man who built this place. Looks like the young Mr. Moorehouse was another Crowley fanatic."

"No wonder this place gives me the creeps." He grabbed the urn off the desk. "I say we confiscate this stuff and get the h.e.l.l out of here."

She closed the diary and tucked it inside her jacket. "To the Bat Cave."

"Funny."

"I thought so."

CHAPTER 41.

One Hour Later, Kane's Office...

Kane sipped his coffee and listened intently as Ravenwood read to him from the diary.

She closed it after reading the final entry and looked up. "So," she said. "What do you think?"

He downed the last drop from his cup and shook his head. "Guy was a certified nut case is what I think. And that bit about the urn being sent to that guy in New York and then being stolen by Moorehouse. That's all true?"

"Well, the part about the urn being sent to Germer in New York is true. And, as far as I know, the story about him burying it in his yard and then finding it gone, is true. How it disappeared and where it ended up has been a mystery all these years." She cast a glance at the urn sitting on Kane's desk. "Now we know. Mystery solved." She shook her head. "Man, do I know some people who would love to get their hands on that little item. You put that thing up for auction on eBay and you'd see one h.e.l.l of a bidding war, that's for sure."

"Yeah, well, the only place that thing is going now is into the evidence locker. And what ever became of Moorehouse, anyway?"

"I did a little research on that a few days ago. There wasn't a lot of information. But according to some old newspaper articles, Moorehouse was found dead on the floor of the library inside the mansion."

"Starting to sound like a game of Clue. Miss Scarlet, in the library, with the candlestick. How'd he die?"

"Death by mushroom, actually."

"Well, there's a new one. Choked to death?"