Free The Rose Conspiracy by Craig Parshall Page B

bill.”
    â€œI am flying out tomorrow night to England, for a meeting the following day with Dee. He’s putting me up at one of his castles. Then we talk. Which is good, because I’ve got a burning question for him.”
    â€œLike?”
    â€œSimple question,” Blackstone said with a wry smile. “Like…how are you with metaphysical riddles, m’Lord?”

CHAPTER 15

    J .D. Blackstone was standing in the swarm of international humanity at Heathrow Airport’s baggage claim area. Elbowing in around him were hundreds of Europeans, Pakistanis, a South Korean tour group, and pockets of business travelers, backpackers, and students on vacation. After craning his neck, he finally spotted a man in a black suit, tie, and cap holding a sign with his name on it. He grabbed his overnight bag and briefcase and headed over.
    â€œTeddy Darrow,” the driver announced with a smile and took Blackstone’s bags. Then he added, “I’m the chauffeur for Lord Dee. But I’m picking you up today.”
    â€œI hope that doesn’t mean that your boss is stuck having to use a bicycle,” Blackstone remarked.
    Teddy laughed and assured him that Lord Dee had several other drivers on call. He walked Blackstone outside to a double-parked black-and-silver Bentley. It was a special edition limo with a glass partition. In the backseat Blackstone found that day’s editions of the London Times and The Scotsman and a bottle of sparkling water, a glass, a bucket of ice, and a few slices of lime.
    On the ride to Lord Dee’s manor estate, a several-hour ride from Heathrow, Blackstone was thinking back on his attempt to connect with Vinnie before his flight. He had called her both at her home and her studio but got no answer. He wanted to let her know he would be meeting with Dee, and whether she had any more background on her “mentor” that she needed to tell him. But Vinnie didn’t pick up at either number.
    During the ride, Blackstone glanced again over the file of clippings Julia had supplied him on Lord Magister Dee. Clearly, this was a man of eccentricities. He had sponsored several global conferences on Theosophy, a religious philosophy officially founded in the late 1800s, but which claimed to have ties to ancient Eastern mysticism. As a belief system, it stressed the inner spiritual powers of human potential and the brotherhood of man. Dee had delivered the keynote addresses at some of the conferences, and had spoken at several conventions of world religions. But he hadn’t published any of his theories. Several of the articles had mentioned his high-ranking status among the Freemasons, but no details were given.
    For some reason, none of the research Julia had produced contained a recent photo of Lord Dee. Blackstone regretted that. He often found that the appearance of a person was a key to some of their most important personality quirks. Blackstone would have to assess Lord Dee on a first-impression basis when he met him.
    It was late afternoon when the Bentley pulled up at the front gates of Lord Dee’s estate. The limo stopped in front of a large, black-iron gate that had the words Mortland Manor inscribed in large letters across the top. Teddy made a call on his cell phone, and momentarily, the gates swung open. The sun was lying low and reflected in vibrant colors across a small lake on the side of the road as the car slowly motored through the grounds. The main entrance road wound through thick, gloomy woods, and then up through a rocky incline and finally into a clearing. That is when he saw the manor house off in the distance.
    Mortland Manor, the name of Dee’s estate home, was more castle than mansion house. It was surrounded by vast, winding gardens and precisely manicured hedges. The structure itself was a huge, tan, stone edifice, with peaked towers on the right and left, and a mammoth three-story house connecting them in the middle.