Morse Translated the text:
When fat pigs fly
Kings tremble
Bells ring
And the people rejoice.
“Fat pigs fly,” said Morse. “I have no idea what that means.” Morse did a number of computer searches and came up with nothing. “This drawing, I cannot make out anything from that, either. K, R, S, L. I do not know what that means. And the chessboard is not doing anything for me, either. There’s nothing more here on these scrolls.”
Morse took some photos of the pipe organ and its secret door, and placed the scrolls in his nylon bag. He shut down his laptop and called for Zoey and Father Gerard.
“Father, I cannot thank you enough for your help. I think we are at a roadblock right now, and the kids need to get some food. Can you point us to a good café?”
“Why, of course. Guillame’s is right around the corner and their bread is fatanstique. You cannot go wrong. I must confess this has been very exciting this morning. Can you do me a favor? Take my phone number and put it into your cell phone. If you get a chance later, I would love to hear how this mystery of Nostradamus ends.”
“We will definitely do that,” said Morse. The priest gave him the telephone number and Morse entered it accordingly. “I cannot thank you enough for your help. And I assure you, I will make sure these historical artifacts are examined and then returned to a French museum. I will probably return with a team in a few weeks to take some samples from the organ so we can document everything, so I will see you again.”
“Wonderful, well, it was very nice meeting your lovely children, and if Zoey is ever interested, I would be happy to give her pipe organ lessons. She looks like she has the musical ear, as we say.”
Zoey smiled. “Thank you, Father.”
Morse escorted his two children out of the church and waved goodbye to Father Gerard.
“Bon chance!” said the priest, smiling happily.
Morse led his children across the street to Guillame’s, an outdoor café with an orange awning. The group was famished. Everything on the menu looked appetizing. Zoey ordered a croque madame, a French sandwich with ham, cheese, and a poached egg. The ham sandwich was the safest thing on the menu. She was strictly a peanut better and jelly gal. She was not going to start eating snails or something. Zach was the health nut, and ordered fresh fruit and “l’eau du robinet,” the French equivalent of tap water. Zach was on his high school cross country team and ran about eight miles each day. After every meal, he would stretch and do pushups. Professor Morse was not a health nut. Since his wife died, he had not cared how far his waist line expanded. He ordered a chicken crepe with a cream sauce, which sure to put on a few pounds.
“Pops, you have gotta stop eating that garbage. You are going to turn into Jabba the Hut.”
“You’re right, Zach. I wish I had your willpower. But I love to eat.”
About ten minutes later, their food came.
“Daddy, do you think there are more bad guys coming after us?”
“Oh, Zoey, I don’t think so. No one saw us leaving Salon. And I cannot imagine anyone is going to find that body for a long time.”
“Why did that bad priest want to kill us?”
“I don’t know. It must have something to do with these prophecies. Whoever it is does not want us to find all the prophecies.”
“Then why did they call you over to France in the first place?” asked Zach. “Why not just leave all that stuff there in the vault? You would have never known about it if they had not called you.”
“I suspect that the real Father du Bois summoned me to France after he found the underground vault. Somehow, some other third party found out about it, eliminated Father du Bois and then posed as him when we arrived.”
“Well, if they cared that much about these dumb prophecies to send a killer to come after us, don’t you think they are going to just send another killer after us?” asked Zach.
“I suppose it’s possible, assuming they could figure out where we are.”
“Dad, these boys ain’t no dummies. They figured out how to find Father du Bois, got some priest clothes and hired a guy to kill us all within a matter of days. They have probably checked in with that guy we left in the vault. When he doesn’t answer, they will send a backup team after him. And when they see he is dead, they’ll start looking for us. You rented a car with your VISA card, and you filled it up with gas along the way. I saw you. If they can track that stuff, they are going to find us in no time. Why are we still here playing detective? Why don’t bail outa here and get back to America where it’s safe?”
Zach raised a good point. Morse had been so intrigued by the ancient puzzle of Nostradamus that he ignored the obvious danger signs for his family. Zach was right. They had to get a plane back to America quickly. He could return to France when it was safe at a later time. Morse asked the waiter to put their food in to-go bags. He paid the bill with cash. Morse asked the waiter for directions to the airport, but the waiter, miffed that he had not gotten a bigger tip, feigned ignorance. Morse decided to go back across the street to the cathedral and ask Father Gerard for directions to the Agen airport. When the three entered the church, Zoey ran ahead down the aisle to find her musician friend. When she got to the ancient pipe organ, she did not see the priest. Curious, she went to the left edge of the pipe organ and went through the passage behind the organ to the small pipe room behind it. As Morse and Zach came down the aisle at a slower pace, they heard Zoey scream. They ran to the pipe room.
“Dad! He’s dead!” screamed Zoey. Zoey ran and grabbed her father.
When Morse and Zach entered the pipe room, they saw Father Gerard, lying face down, with a pool of dark red blood around his head. Morse examined his pulse. He was definitely dead. It appeared that he had been shot in the head. There was only one reason someone would murder this nice priest. The killers were here, and they were after Morse and his family. A moment of dread and panic gripped him. Morse cursed himself for not getting to an airport earlier when they had the chance. Morse quickly peeked around the corner of the pipe room and looked into the cathedral. He did not see anyone lurking in the church. But they must be very close. How would they get out of here safely?
Morse asked himself what he would do if he was tracking a man and his two children. He would pass their pictures around. He would look for the license plate of the Audi, and watch the car. And he would watch all roads to the airport. Morse went to the window on the south side of the church and looked out. He saw the Audi parked in one of the spaces on the street. There was a tall man in a gray suit and sunglasses leaning against the car. They would have to take different transportation. Morse looked out the window on the north side. There was a street with parked cars, a bus stop, and a small park. That would have to be their way out.
“Daddy, I’m scared!” whined Zoey.
“Dad, we gotta get outa here. We are sitting ducks in here.”
“Come with me,” said Morse. Morse ran to the center of the church, and then into a small side door next to the altar. Inside the door was a small dressing room, with a long closet. This was where the priests donned their vestments before beginning mass. Morse slid open the door and pulled out a black priest’s collar, shirt and robe. The robe belonged to Father Gerard. Due to the priest’s girth, this robe was very large. Morse handed another smaller priest’s collar, shirt, and robe to Zach.
“They are going to be expecting a man and two teenagers. They are not going to be expecting two priests. Zoey, I want you to get on my back like you are doing a piggyback ride, but under my robe. You are going to have to hang down low so you stay under the robe. When I say go, we are going to walk calmly to the next bus that comes in and get on wherever it’s going.” Zach thought the plan sounded better than anything he could think of. Near the closet of priest’s vestments was a small bathroom. Morse looked inside the bathroom to see if there was anything they could use to disguise their faces or make themselves look different. As he looked down, he saw a set of electric clippers. Morse recalled that Father Gerard had a buzz cut. Morse looked at his son’s long, beautiful Zac Efron hair. Zach Morse saw the clippers and then looked at his father with more trepidation than he felt when the killer’s gun was pointed at him.
“No way! Shut up! I am not cutting my hair!”
“Zach, you have to. They have your picture, with your long hair. That will give us away in a minute. They will not be expecting two bald priests.”
“No way! This hair gives me my swagga. I am not cutting my hair for anything!”
“Zach, I am sorry, but you and your sister could be killed. Your hair will grow back. We have to get out of here alive!”
Zach looked back at the clippers. He was filled with panic at the thought of cutting his hair, but he realized that his hair could give them away.
“OK, but be gentle. Just so you know, if we get killed anyway, and I die bald, I will never forgive you.”
Morse took the clippers and buzzed off all of his son’s beautiful hair. Then he turned the clippers on himself. The sink was filled with clumps of Zach’s blondish-brown hair and Morse’s gray hair. Morse and his son looked at themselves in the mirror. They did not look anything like their former selves. Morse felt good. Zach did not.
Zoey jumped on the back of her father, and then Zach put Father Gerard’s fat robe over him. Then Zach put on his own robe. Morse peeked out the door of the small dressing room. No one was there. He and Zach walked to the north door, with Zoey clinging on underneath the robe. They looked out the door for a few minutes, and then saw a bus heading their way.
“Go!” said Morse. Two bald priests, one looking slightly like a hunchback, walked out the north door of the cathedral and headed towards the bus stop. About a block away, a man in jeans and a gray t-shirt was holding a picture of a UCLA professor and his two children. As he scanned the block or two around the Agen cathedral, he paid no attention to the two bald priests heading for the bus stop. A minute later, Morse and his children were safely on board the bus, which was headed out of town. They walked to the very back of the bus, where Zoey crawled out from the robe. They looked out the back window of the bus. They could not see any pursuers, but they knew they were back in the town somewhere. Zach looked at his light reflection in the window of the bus. He was bald. He could not believe he was bald. He was thoroughly depressed. He took off his priest’s robe and wadded it up in a ball as a pillow.
“I can’t believe I even came on this stupid French trip. I am going to sleep. Wake me up when we get there. This blows.” He was not happy about his hair. He was going to be crabby for a very long time.
Morse walked up the aisle and talked to another passenger.
“Excusez-moi,” Morse spoke in French. “I am concerned I got on the wrong bus. Can you tell me where this bus is heading?”
“Carcassonne, Father.”
“Ah, Carcassonne, thank you very much.”
Morse returned to his children. “We are on our way to Carcassonne.”
“Where is that?” asked Zoey.
“It’s about two hours east of here. We passed it on the way here while you were sleeping before. We are going back in the direction we came.”
“Can we go home when we get there?” asked Zoey.
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Good,” said Zoey. “I don’t like France.” She went to sleep next to her brother. Morse regretted bringing these children along. It was hard being a single father. He hoped they would not be pursued to Carcassonne. Perhaps they could get a flight from there. Morse stayed awake for another thirty minutes, constantly looking out the bus’ back window to make sure they were not being followed. Then Morse took off his own priest’s robe and fell asleep, exhausted from the day’s events.