"Where to?" the driver asked in German.

He decided to make another smart play. "Just a few blocks, then stop."

When the taxi wheeled to the curb, he tossed the driver ten euros and hopped out. He'd spotted a sign for the U-Bahn and hustled down the stairs, bought a ticket, and rushed to the platform.

The underground train arrived and he stepped into a nearly full car. He sat and activated his cell phone, which came with a special feature. He entered a numeric code and the screen read DELETE ALL DATA DELETE ALL DATA? He pressed yes. Like his second wife, who never heard him the first time, the phone asked ARE YOU SURE ARE YOU SURE? He pressed yes again.

The memory was now wiped clean.

He bent over, ostensibly to stretch his socks, and laid the phone beneath the seat.

The train eased into the next station.

He exited. But the phone kept going.

That should keep Ramsey busy.

He made his way up from the station, pleased with his escape. He needed to contact Dorothea, but that had to be done carefully. If he was being watched, so was she.

He stepped out into the sunny afternoon and found his bearings. He was not far from the river, near the Deutsches Museum. Another busy street and crowded sidewalk spread out before him.

A man suddenly stopped beside him.

"Bitte, Herr Wilkerson," he said in German. "To that car, just down there, at the curb." Herr Wilkerson," he said in German. "To that car, just down there, at the curb."

He froze.

The man wore a long wool coat and kept both hands in his pockets.

"I don't want to," the stranger said, "but I will shoot you here, if need be."

His eyes drifted to the man's coat pocket.

A sick feeling invaded his stomach. No way Ramsey's people had followed him. But he'd been so intent on them, he'd neglect to notice anyone else. "You're not from Berlin, are you?" he asked.

"Nein. I'm something altogether different." I'm something altogether different."

THIRTY-FOUR.

AACHEN, GERMANY.

1:20 PM.

MALONE ADMIRED ONE OF THE LAST REMNANTS OF THE C CAROLINGIAN empire, known then as the Church of Our Lady and now as Charlemagne's chapel. The building seemed to be formed in three distinct sections. A gothic tower, which appeared to stand apart. A round but angular midsection, connected to the tower by a covered bridge, topped with an unusual pleated dome. And a tall, elongated building that seemed all roof and stained-gla.s.s windows. The conglomeration had been erected from the latter part of the eighth to the fifteenth centuries, and it was amazing that it had survived, particularly the last hundred years when, Malone knew, Aachen had been mercilessly bombed. empire, known then as the Church of Our Lady and now as Charlemagne's chapel. The building seemed to be formed in three distinct sections. A gothic tower, which appeared to stand apart. A round but angular midsection, connected to the tower by a covered bridge, topped with an unusual pleated dome. And a tall, elongated building that seemed all roof and stained-gla.s.s windows. The conglomeration had been erected from the latter part of the eighth to the fifteenth centuries, and it was amazing that it had survived, particularly the last hundred years when, Malone knew, Aachen had been mercilessly bombed.

The chapel stood on the low end of a city slope, once connected to the palace proper by a low line of wooden structures that housed a solarium, a military garrison, law courts, and quarters for the king and his family.

Charlemagne's palatinate.

Only a courtyard, the chapel, and the foundations of the palace upon which fourteenth-century builders erected Aachen's town hall remained. The rest had disappeared centuries ago.

They entered the chapel through the west doors, the ancient portal cloistered from the street. Three steps led down into a baroque-style porch, its walls whitewashed and unadorned.

"Those steps are significant," Christl said. "Ground levels outside have risen since Charlemagne's time."

He recalled Dorothea's tale about Otto III. "Beneath here is where they found Charlemagne's tomb? And the book Dorothea has?"

She nodded. "Some say Otto III dug through this flooring and found the king sitting upright, his fingers pointing to the Gospel of Mark. For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"

He caught her cynicism.

"Others say Emperor Barbarossa found the grave site here in 1165, and the body was lying in a marble coffin. That Roman sarcophagus is on display in the treasury next door. Barbarossa supposedly subst.i.tuted a gilded chest, which is now"-she pointed ahead into the chapel-"there, in the choir."

Beyond the altar, he spotted a golden reliquary displayed within an illuminated gla.s.s enclosure. They left the porch and stepped into the chapel. A circular pa.s.sage spanned to the left and right, but he seemed drawn to the center of the inner octagon. Light, like mist, filtered down from windows high in the dome.

"A hexadecagon wrapping an octagon," he said.

Eight ma.s.sive pillars folded into each other to form double pillars that held the high dome aloft. Rounded arches rose skyward to the upper galleries where slender columns, marble bridges, and latticework grilles connected everything.

"For three centuries after its completion, this was the tallest building north of the Alps," Christl told him. "Stone had been used in the south to construct temples, arenas, palaces, and later churches, but this type of building was unknown among Germanic tribes. This was the first attempt, outside the Mediterranean, to build a stone vault."

He stared up at the towering gallery.

"Little of what you see is from Charlemagne's time," she said. "The structure itself, obviously. The thirty-six marble columns, there, on the second level. Some of them are original-carted from Italy, stolen by Napoleon, but eventually returned. The eight bronze lattices between the arches are also original. Everything else came later. Carolingians whitewashed their churches and painted the insides. Later, Christians added elegance. This remains, though, the only church in Germany built on orders of Charlemagne still standing."

He had to tilt his back to spy up into the dome. Its golden mosaics depicted twenty-four elders, clad in white, standing before the throne, proffering golden crowns in adoration of the Lamb. From Revelation, if he wasn't mistaken. More mosaics decorated the drum beneath the dome. Mary, John the Baptist, Christ, Archangel Michael, Gabriel, even Charlemagne himself.

Suspended by a wrought-iron chain, whose links thickened as they rose, was a ma.s.sive, wheel-shaped candelabra replete with intricate goldsmithing.

"Emperor Barbarossa presented that chandelier in the twelfth century," she said, "after his coronation. It's symbolic of the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of lights, which will come down from heaven like a victor's crown, as promised to every Christian."

Revelation again. He thought about another cathedral, St. Mark's in Venice. "This place has a Byzantine look and feel."

"It reflects Charlemagne's love of Byzantine richness, as opposed to Roman austerity."

"Who designed it?"

She shrugged. "No one knows. A Master Odo is mentioned in some of the texts, but nothing is known about him except that he apparently knew of the architecture from the south. Einhard definitely partic.i.p.ated, as did Charlemagne himself."

The interior didn't impress with its size, instead the illusion was more intimate, the eyes compelled to swing upward, toward heaven.

Admission to the chapel was free, but several paying group tours wandered about, their guides explaining the highlights. Their tail from the train station had wandered inside, too, using one of the crowds for cover. Then, apparently satisfied there was but one entrance, he had drifted back outside.

Malone had guessed right. His rental car had been tagged. How else could the gunman have found them last night? They certainly weren't followed. Today they'd driven the same car from Reichshoffen to Garmisch to catch the train, where he'd first spotted Hatchet Face.

No better way to know if someone was following than to lead him.

Christl pointed up to the second-story gallery. "That area was reserved exclusively for the monarch. Thirty Holy Roman Emperors were crowned here. Having sat on the throne and followed in the footsteps of Charlemagne, they symbolically gained possession of the em stevepire. No emperor was deemed legitimate until he ascended the throne that sits up there."

Chairs filled the octagon for wors.h.i.+pers and, as he saw, tourists. He sat off to the side and asked, "Okay, why are we here?"

"Mathematics and architecture were part of Einhard's love."

He caught what she'd not voiced. "Taught to him by the Holy Ones?"

"Look at this place. Quite an accomplishment for the ninth century. A lot of firsts here. That stone vault overhead? It was revolutionary. Whoever designed and built it knew what they were doing."

"But what does this chapel have to do with Einhard's will?"

"In the will Einhard wrote that a comprehension of the wisdom of heaven begins in the new Jerusalem."

"This is the new Jerusalem?"

"That's exactly how Charlemagne referred to this chapel."

He recalled the rest. "Revelations there will be clear once the secret of that wondrous place is deciphered. Clarify this pursuit by applying the angel's perfection to the lord's sanctification. But only those who appreciate the throne of Solomon and Roman frivolity shall find their way to heaven." "Revelations there will be clear once the secret of that wondrous place is deciphered. Clarify this pursuit by applying the angel's perfection to the lord's sanctification. But only those who appreciate the throne of Solomon and Roman frivolity shall find their way to heaven."

"You have a good memory."

"If you only knew."

"Riddles are not my strong point, and I've had a hard time with this one."

"Who says I'm good with them?"

"Mother says you have quite a reputation."

"It's good to know that I've pa.s.sed Mama's test. Like I told her and you, she seems to have chosen sides."

"She's trying to get Dorothea and me to work together. At some point we may have to. But I plan to avoid that as long as possible."

"In the abbey, when you saw that cabinet had been vandalized, you thought Dorothea was the culprit, didn't you?"

"She knew Father kept his papers there. But I never told her how the cabinet opened. She was never interested, until lately. She clearly didn't want me to have the doc.u.ments."

"But she wanted you to have me?"

"That is puzzling."

"Maybe she thought I'd be useless?"

"I can't imagine why."

"Flattery? You'll try anything."

She smiled.

He wanted to know, "Why would Dorothea steal the doc.u.ments at the abbey and leave the originals of at least one of them in the castle?"

"Dorothea rarely ventured beneath Reichshoffen. She knows little of what's down there."

"So who killed the woman from the cable car?"

Her face hardened. "Dorothea."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "You must know that my sister has little or no conscience."

"You two are the strangest twins I've ever come across."

"Though we were born at the same time, that doesn't make us the same. We always maintained a distance from each other that we both enjoy."

"So what happens when you two inherit it all?"

"I think Mother hopes this quest will end our differences."

He caught her reservations. "Not going to happen?"

"We both promised that we'd try."

"You each have a strange way of trying."

He stared around at the chapel. A few feet away, within the outer polygon, stood the main altar.

Christl noticed his interest. "The panel in front is said to have been made from gold that Otto III found in Charlemagne's tomb."

"I already know what you're going to say. But n.o.body knows for sure. But n.o.body knows for sure."

Her explanations, so far, had been specific, but that didn't mean they were right. He checked his watch and stood. "We need to eat something."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Shouldn't we deal with this first?"

"If I knew how, I would."

Before entering the chapel, they'd detoured to the gift shop and learned that the interior stayed open until seven PM PM, the last tour starting at six. He'd also noticed an a.s.sortment of guidebooks and historical materials, some in English, most in German. Luckily, he was reasonably fluent.

"We need to make a stop, then find a place to eat."

"The Marktplatz is not far away."