The Templar Detective and the Code Breaker Read online

  The Templar Detective and the Code Breaker

  A Templar Detective Thriller

  by

  J. Robert Kennedy

  GET 5 FREE eBOOKS!

  Award winning and USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has sold over one million books, and is now giving some away for free! Join The Insider’s Club to be notified when new books are released, and as a thank you, get his 5 book Starter Library for free!

  Find out more at www.jrobertkennedy.com.

  Follow Robert on Facebook, BookBub, GoodReads and Twitter.

  BOOKS BY J. ROBERT KENNEDY

  The Templar Detective Thrillers

  The Templar Detective

  The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress

  The Templar Detective and the Sergeant's Secret

  The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist

  The Templar Detective and the Code Breaker

  The James Acton Thrillers

  The Protocol

  Brass Monkey

  Broken Dove

  The Templar’s Relic

  Flags of Sin

  The Arab Fall

  The Circle of Eight

  The Venice Code

  Pompeii’s Ghosts

  Amazon Burning

  The Riddle

  Blood Relics

  Sins of the Titanic

  Saint Peter’s Soldiers

  The Thirteenth Legion

  Raging Sun

  Wages of Sin

  Wrath of the Gods

  The Templar’s Revenge

  The Nazi’s Engineer

  Atlantis Lost

  The Cylon Curse

  The Viking Deception

  Keepers of the Lost Ark

  The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers

  Rogue Operator

  Containment Failure

  Cold Warriors

  Death to America

  Black Widow

  The Agenda

  Retribution

  State Sanctioned

  The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers

  Payback

  Infidels

  The Lazarus Moment

  Kill Chain

  Forgotten

  The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries

  Depraved Difference

  Tick Tock

  The Redeemer

  Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series

  The Turned

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Table of Contents

  The Novel

  Author's Note

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Acknowledgments

  Don't Miss Out!

  Thank You!

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  For our lady,

  Notre-Dame de Paris.

  “Thou shalt not lend upon usury to thy brother; usury of money, usury of victuals, usury of any thing that is lent upon usury.”

  Deuteronomy 23:19, King James Version

  “Neither a borrower nor a lender be,

  For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

  And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.”

  Hamlet Act 1, scene 3, 75–77

  William Shakespeare

  Author's Note

  This is the fifth novel in this series, and for those who have read the others and embraced these characters as so many of you have, please feel free to skip this note, as you will have already read it.

  The word “detective” is believed to have originated in the mid-nineteenth century, however, that doesn’t mean the concept of someone who investigated crime originated less than two hundred years ago. Crime long pre-dated this era, and those who investigated it as well.

  The following historical thriller is intended to be an entertaining read for all, with the concept of a “Templar Detective” a fun play on a modern term. The dialog is intentionally written in such a way that today’s audiences can relate, as opposed to how people might have spoken in Medieval France, where, of course, they would have conversed in French and not English, with therefore completely different manners of speaking, and of addressing one another. For consistency, English phrasing is always used, such as Mister instead of Monsieur, for example. This does not mean they will be speaking to each other as rappers and gangsters, but will instead communicate in ways that imply comfort and familiarity, as we would today. If you are expecting, “Thou dost hath offended me, my good sir,” then prepareth thyself for disappointment. If, however, you are looking for a fast-paced adventure, with plenty of action, mystery, and humor, then you’ve come to the right place.

  Enjoy.

  Preface

  At the height of their power, the Templars were estimated to have as many as 2000 mounted knights, and as many as 20,000 additional personnel within the Order. In addition to that, they had over 1000 commanderies, fortresses, outposts, and other properties, among their extensive list of assets.

  They were wealthy, almost beyond compare.

  Yet sworn to poverty.

  Much of this wealth was accumulated over time by the nobles that donated to join or support the cause, but much was also from their ingenious, and perhaps world’s first, banking system.

  With their sworn mission to protect the pilgrims to the Holy Land from the Saracens and bandits, they soon realized that part of the reason the travelers were targeted was because of the vast amount of wealth they carried with them.

  After all, a pilgrimage was a long journey, followed by a usually lengthy stay, before an equally long return home, requiring a large amount of funds to be carried to finance such an endeavor.

  Making them ripe pickings for thieves.

  Enter the Letter of Credit.
br />   The Templars created a unique system where one could enter a Templar outpost anywhere, deposit a set of assets, then be given a Letter of Credit itemizing those assets, and their value. This letter was encrypted using their unbroken code and given to the traveler, who could then redeem all or part of it along the way to fund their trip.

  And it was of little value if stolen.

  This ingenious system helped protect the assets of those on a pilgrimage, or traveling anywhere within Europe or the Holy Lands, and reduced the risk to them being raided, as these letters became more commonplace.

  The fees charged, and the assets held, including land, made the Templars incredibly wealthy.

  And the other religious orders extremely jealous, leaving them desperate to crack the code that protected the world’s first international banking system.

  Which begs the question: what would have happened if someone had succeeded?

  1 |

  St. Cloud, Kingdom of France 1298 AD

  René Courvat stood in front of a solid though simple desk that occupied the center of the entry of the Templar outpost. Sweat trickled down his back and beaded on his upper lip as he futilely attempted slow, steady breaths, his heart still racing despite his desperate efforts. He forced himself to look away from the document now held in the hands of the Templar Knight on duty. The sight of the man’s crisp white tunic with large red Maltese cross emblazoned on it, even when viewed only in the periphery of his current tunnel vision, was enough to keep his entire body trembling.

  Get a hold of yourself!

  He stared at the far corner, nothing but a plain chair occupying it, none of the regalia of the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon in sight, his heart finally calming, if only slightly.

  “One moment, please,” said the knight, an older man whose facial scars suggested a much more exciting youth than the position he now held. As soon as the man was out of sight, René sighed then stopped midway, the sound so loud it had to have been heard in the next room.

  Something was wrong.

  He had done this before. Many times before. And it had never taken this long.

  Something was definitely wrong.

  His fingernails dug into his palms, the pain going unnoticed as he debated leaving.

  You should leave. Now!

  He started to turn when the door to the back office opened and the elderly knight’s head poked through. “I’m terribly sorry. This will only take a few minutes.” He pointed at the chair in the corner. “Have a seat. It won’t be long.”

  The door closed and René stood, frozen in place.

  Would he be so friendly if he knew what you were doing?

  He didn’t think so.

  An innocent man would sit.

  He willed his legs to move, and he soon found himself in the chair, with a view of the entire entry of the small Templar outpost less than a day’s ride from Paris. The Templars had outposts like this scattered around the massive city, allowing travelers to redeem their Letters of Credit before entering the capital, rather than at the busy Templar fortress.

  A place he never intended to go.

  The lineups were long, and the chance of greater scrutiny was too much.

  And his poor heart could never take the stress.

  Yet here, west of the city he lived in, he felt no less insecure.

  Though what had he expected? He had pushed his luck. Foolishly. At first, it had simply been the challenge. To think he could do something no one else had been able to do for over a century. It had all started by chance. He had always been good with words and numbers, with figuring out puzzles and recognizing patterns. It was a gift from God, his late mother had told him, and he believed her.

  Who else among his friends saw numbers as colors, patterns as smells? Nobody. He was a freak of nature, and kept the source of his unique abilities to himself lest he be declared a demon and find himself tied to a stake.

  Though perhaps he was. He was different, and it had made his life difficult. He hadn’t married, nor would any woman have him. He was simply too awkward. All he had in his life were his younger sisters. They had lost their father several years ago, and their mother soon after. The three were all each other had, and he would do anything to protect them.

  And that was why, when he had finally done what none had done before, he had taken advantage of his accomplishment.

  His painstakingly achieved accomplishment.

  He knew how to read and write, as well as do numbers. It was a skill in short supply where he lived, an area of the city where too many were desperate, and this desperation created a need for his services, services that he charged for, though more often than not took something in trade.

  He would read and explain contracts his customers brought to him, usually from loan sharks, though sometimes they would be land contracts, rental agreements, or other forms of agreement made in writing by people of means to people with little. The terms read often brought tears to the eyes of those who had already agreed, their mark at the bottom of the page as meaningless to them as the words above it.

  It was heartbreaking work.

  But on a number of occasions, he had received old Templar Letters of Credit in exchange for his services, three from the same widow, her husband having traveled to the Holy Land years before, using the Templar network to move his money. In the end, he had died, leaving her nothing but the letters, letters which she had no idea of what they were until she brought them to him to read.

  And they were, of course, gibberish, the strange symbols consisting of dots and various lines at different angles, instead of letters and numbers, a code unbroken for so long, it was legend.

  But his beautiful mind had noticed patterns, patterns jumping off the pages like deer in the meadows. It had been so obvious, he had immediately realized that each symbol stood for a letter or number, and their use was consistent.

  For he was certain the widow’s husband’s name was repeated near the beginning of each Letter of Credit.

  When he informed her they were unreadable, she told him to keep them and feed his fire if he so wished, then left, cursing her dead husband for leaving her with nothing but the clothes on her back.

  And it had tortured him that night.

  He woke, determined to crack the code and help the widow regain that which her husband hadn’t lost, but rather had wisely entrusted to the Templars with their vast network of outposts across Europe and the Holy Land.

  The idea was simple. Traveling with sufficient monies to make long journeys, especially to the Holy Land, was foolish. Thieves along the way would prey upon the pilgrims and steal their money. Enter the Templars. At first, they had acted merely as escorts, protecting the pilgrims from thieves and Saracens. But eventually, they developed the concept of Letters of Credit. One’s wealth was deposited at a Templar outpost at the beginning of a journey, a Letter of Credit was given indicating the value, and then the pilgrim traveled with the piece of paper only. Unless a thief wanted to risk entering an outpost to try and cash a stolen letter, they were considered not worth the trouble.

  When the pilgrim required funds along the way, or finally reached their destination, they could go to any Templar outpost and redeem it, getting as much of the deposited wealth as they required at the time, or all of it should they so desire.

  It protected the traveler, and it made the Templars incredibly wealthy by charging fees, or by not having to redeem the Letters of Credit of those who died, their papers lost to the battlefield or the side of the road where they succumbed to brigands or the elements.

  And that wealth made many insanely jealous, including monarchs, nobility, and other religious orders.

  Yet the Templars, supported by the Pope in Rome, continued to amass tremendous wealth at the expense of the innocent.

  And that was why, when he had figured out the code, he hadn’t felt any guilt in stealing from them.

  Though it had been a challenge. Once he had recognize
d the pattern and guessed at the letters making up the widow’s husband’s name, he had to confirm it. He redeemed the Letters, one at a time, then noticed another pattern, indicating what had been deposited, and its value. This had given him even more to work with. He then created his first fake, copying the first letter exactly, but only changing what he was now certain was the name, using only letters he was certain of.

  It had worked.

  He then took the proceeds, and deposited them at several outposts, having Letters of Credit created for several people, all with a combination of letters that gave him the entire alphabet.

  And his brilliant mind had picked out the patterns, and soon had the entire code broken, including every single letter and number. This allowed him to read any Letter of Credit he saw with ease, and he finally took the plunge, creating his own complete forgery, then redeeming it.

  It had worked perfectly, and he had given all the funds gained during his experimentation to the widow—anonymously—his guilty conscience settled.

  But the victory had been intoxicating, and he had wanted more. Not much, just enough to get by, to make his life, and that of his orphaned sisters, a little better.

  Yet today, he was certain he had pushed his luck.

  The door opened and he leaped to his feet, the old man returning to his desk, a collection of coins in his hand. He began counting them out, then pushed them toward the still trembling René.

  “Sorry for the delay, young man, but we’ve been short-staffed and I’m getting a little too old for this.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, how was it?”

  René’s eyes narrowed, his heart racing. “Sir?”

  “The Holy Land.”

  A trickle of urine raced down his leg as he wondered why the question had been asked.

  Because that’s the origin you used in the Letter of Credit, you imbecile!

  “Oh, umm, it was hot, but inspirational.”