The sign of Judas: Collection/Serie

By Carlos Reyes (Charlie King)

An attack in the city of Paris will force the authorities to contact Peter Becks, a scenic millionaire criminologist who will begin to connect the crime with a conspiracy on US soil. Together with him, the journalist Noa Campbell will try to discover who murdered her brother and what objective all this movement of chips is looking for within the political board. The case will take you to several points of connection between three moments in the history that changed the world: the assassination of JFK, the arrival of man on the Moon and the 9/11 attacks. What connects everything?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Jan 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781071581179

Book preview

one

In the silence of the night, the insufferable sound of the mobile shook her like an earthquake . Noa Campbell back at the same time Grumbling that he gripped hard the sheets soft ALG odón and reach mobile, repressing anger that caused someone to interfere in their rituals six hours off. He groped for the infernal device until he found it on the edge of the nightstand.

- Who is it? He asked without looking at the identification shown on his Iphone screen .

- Peque, were you sleeping? Came the sweet voice on the other end of the line. It was not difficult for him to recognize the identity of the person.

- Sure it is Paul. It's half past five in the morning. What did you expect?

Paul Campbell was Noa's older brother and, as such, her legendary protector. Four years separated them one from the other. From the very day the bright boy was born, he became his shadow. He was always in charge of getting her out of the thousands of problems she got into because of her strong character and her particular facility to end up surrounded by bullies who tried to intimidate her with insults and threats, which did not affect her self-esteem at all. . From very young had to ap añárselas without the security that gives in some children the warmth and support of a parent, because when she could not reach l os fifteen, this was tragically killed in a shooting chance in the middle of the bank robbery.

- What is it? He asked, noticing that his brother was still silent.

- I have news to give you, but I'm not sure how to do it.

- Go ahead. You already woke me up. So you say.

 You see, Paul started to say. It's about Roger.

- What does the old man want now? He snarled.

- Nothing.

Noa was disheartened. He sat up on himself and leaned his back against the back of the bed.

- Are you calling to tell me that Roger doesn't want anything? Are you okay in the head?

The line fell awkwardly silent. 

- They found his car burned ... and him inside.

The shock of the news made Noa drop the phone. Her older brother was not an expert in breaking bad news. He hoped he had said anything to her, anyone but that. Tears filled her eyes at breakneck speed and one of them slid down her cheek as she bent down to retrieve the phone again.

- Noa? Paul had been yelling for a while. Are you okay?

- Where? She asked.

- On the outskirts of town.

- Are you sure it was him? She asked him again, hardly believing that this conversation was taking place.

- Peque, it's not even six. They haven't done an autopsy yet. He took a breath. But from the evidence they've found, it 's almost certain that it's Roger Sunderland. Although I would like to be wrong.

- What signs?

- Your leather wallet, your mobile phone, even your charred Rolex on your right wrist . In the absence of the report I would say that it is about him.

- Calcined? Who would do that to him?

- That's what I wonder too. What the police are wondering. Do you know if he was into something bad?

- Roger? Of course not, "she replied, annoyed by the question. You know perfectly well that he would never have gotten into anything illegal. We were friends since I started journalism career in the u niversity where he taught and I've never seen doing anything reprehensible.

The conversation suffered another sudden hush, almost out of respect for Sunderland's memory.

- Are you in your pajamas ? -He said.

 Well, not exactly. She pulled the sheet aside and looked at his almost naked body, covered by an exclusive nightgown . Give me half an hour and I'll be at your house.

- No. Come to the cafeteria across the street. We will have breakfast and go to the police station. Do not delay.

* * *

Noa gazed raptly at the reflection returned to her by the five-foot mirror that rested on the wall of her dressing room. The young woman possessed an unparalleled beauty and caused genuine envy among women. Her fine complexion made her deep dark eyes stand out, and her facial expression was affable and tender — almost angelic — in contrast to her great temperament. Her straight hair fell loose on her shoulders like a waterfall carried by the rush of the river , pushing her bangs away from her face with a neat, subtly combed part . She possessed a penetrating gaze that captivated those around her and that she collected at the moments she saw fit.

She carefully pulled up the black suit pants she often wore to work and buttoned the white silk shirt that covered her small but beautiful breasts. That clothing highlighted her perfect curves and suggested that this being should not belong to this planet. That beauty was what made it not go unnoticed, the subject of incessant glances at the lá where I was going . But despite that divine appeal, she hadn't had a stable relationship for years. They deified her at the same time that they feared her.

When she had found some elegant black shoes that she had recently acquired in the dressing room, she picked up her bag and went out. Inside this he carried everything he needed, his keys, his Iphone, several packs of tissues and a small notebook that he always kept close by. At that time, few were the people who were walking down the street and few were the faces that were fixed on the face of concern and sadness that it was impossible for her to hide because of the terrible news that had awakened her. She was walking briskly toward the parking lot of her Audi A3, her heels clicking briskly on the cobbled Paris floor . Despite the moment, it was the pure image of triumph.

Ten minutes later he was driving fast to meet his brother at the cafeteria that he had indicated. He remembered Sunderland's bona chon face without stopping as if it were in front of him at that moment. Not only had he been her teacher during her years as a student of journalism and criminal psychology, but he had also been her supporter to become part of the magazine The true and over time made her one of the journalists of i esearch best known and awarded in Europe as part of the expert advisory group of the FBI in the United States. His had been the idea of ​​writing several fiction novels based on his endless research, edited by his own magazine and which brought him a succulent increase in salary. Additionally, Sunderland had been his biggest source of information in recent years, owing much of some of his successful research to him.

He had taken less time than other times to cover the distance that separated him from his brother's house and eventually he had been able to park not far from the meeting point . He pressed the button on the key to lock the car and walked to the cafeteria in the Place de la Concorde. She saw him through the glass, sitting with his back to her. As usual, he was wearing jeans and a tight green T-shirt that made it clear that he had long since given up the weekly exercise. His hair was slick and spiky, styled with the delicacy of a meticulous and methodical person. He held what looked like the morning paper in his hands, something surprising at what time it was.

The young woman smiled when she realized that, as always , she had sat down at the back of the cafeteria so that she could have a proper conversation , something that he repeated in their secret meetings.

It will never change, he told himself aloud . Man of customs.

He walked through the glass door and walked over to Paul.

 Hello, he greeted.

 Hello, little one, his brother replied languidly as he pushed the chair that was in front of him. Please sit.

In five minutes they already had on the table an Expresso for Paul and an Americano for Noa. They had taken the time to remember the best moments of Roger Sunderland, the anecdotes that remained in his memory, the great advice of the journalist.

- The police have been involved in the investigation from the first moment. He was a great man, "Paul Campbell said as he seemed mesmerized by the coffee bean.

- We always think the same of the people we love when they are no longer there to tell them.

The ringing of the phone interrupted the conversation between them. The young journalist raised her hand in apology.

- Who?

The line spat out hoarse sounds and interference. He held the phone away from his ear and looked at the symbol for coverage. I barely received a signal from that point.

 Sorry, he said to Paul, getting up. I go out to try to find out who he is and right away I'm with you . You have a lot to tell me.   

She dodged two tables and let the cool morning breeze whisk her around as she made contact with the outside. He looked again at the cover icon. He had started to recover.

- Hello? Who?

The line emitted a series of three consecutive beeps. The caller had hung up before he could identify himself. He thought it might have been a mistake.

But something made her stop.

He didn't know why, but suddenly a bad feeling held all his muscles. He looked around, but there was no one. The street was empty. He sensed something in his surroundings. She turned her gaze towards the cafeteria at the precise moment that she saw the windows of the shop window explode and a mouth of fire emerged as if hell really existed and was opening its doors, right there, in front of her. The blast pushed her back several meters, hitting the ground brutally and hitting the door of a parked car. For a few minutes he remained kneeling and Ensor deci given by the outbreak. His body was bruised, sore. She could only perceive the slight movements of a couple that got out of a car in shock a few meters from her with the windows shattered by the impact of several bricks.

She knelt down and tearfully stared at the hideous image before her. The cafeteria had been reduced to the nothing and its interior had been devoured by flames at the same time as Paul fell like a tongue of fire to his despair.

two

The bell tower chimed seven consecutive times. Seven o'clock , what a symbolic number, Miguel thought from the ledge, turning his back on the old bell that had rumbled so many times in that small town. This is the moment, I cannot let them find me ... and even less that they question me.

The place was quite away from the Spanish capital, although many or even h Abian ever heard the name of the remote location, it was an irreplaceable symbol for a small group of people. And that morning the rays of the sun seemed to radiate a different, magical, revealing glow. For many years he had seen the sunrise from that point, but this day was special .

He rested his hand on the colonnade to his right and looked at the vast void that stretched out in the immensity of that architectural work, ending on a stone floor that from there seemed much more solid than usual. He sighed in confusion , lethargic by the song of the goldfinches. The step he had to take was necessary. He would rather do it than others to make that decision. And he was sure they would take it, sooner or later. After all, this had served as a temporary spiritual chamber.

He stretched his arms in a cross position, as if trying to fly , and closed his eyes. In the darkness of his thoughts something alarmed him. Look much better with your spiritual eyes is , and clarity around him fought and overcame the terrible gloom that ant hours it had wrapped when he had learned of the death of his friend Sun derland.

He had perfectly complied with the agreement. He had always been in charge of alerting him if his investigation took traumatizing channels that could endanger their lives. And the file he had received could only be a sign that something was seriously wrong. If they had found Sund erland, they would soon find him and eliminate him as they had the journalist.

Forgive me Lord, because I have sinned, he prayed , allowing himself to be overcome by the force of gravity.

The body plummeted, shattered on the cold stone. The blow caused a slight echo between the walls of the adjoining buildings, still overnight with the encounter of the first rays of sun . A thin trickle of blood started coming out of the ears of Miguel , lying inert and under a pool of blood , making disappear the moment the secret he had kept for so many years Roger Sunderland ... and forward again.

* * *

Several meters s above a head peeked to ensure is d and the mu erte Miguel. Even from that height, the black cassock that he had been using as a member of the curia that directed that special sanctuary stood out in a mournful way , as did the man who verified the truth of the suicide. It collected s or melen to wavy with a gum in one queue. He took out a cell phone.

-Michael. E limited, "he said calmly.

- Have you confessed something?

I haven't had time. It has taken his own life before the arrived to question him .

Eerie silence.

He knew we'd go after him, the v oz revealed. He wanted to prevent you from doing the same as with the journalist.

 Now what do I do? We don't know how much he knew or if someone else knows.

Go back to Paris. I have detected that this priest has gone the way of Sunderland and has forwarded the mail with what we assume is the stolen file .

-To who?

We'll detect it soon, the voice confirmed. But I'm sure of that is the link that helped initially to Sunderland.

Well, he smiled coming out of the bell tower, it seems that the Church is   going to have to mourn two of his men.

Don't be late. We have to stop this as soon as possible. We have been fools to let the journalist find us. I trust you, do not let me down.

I haven't done it yet, he answered, overcoming the comment, but he had already hung up.

Five minutes later he passed near the body of Miguel, who was still lying there . He paid no attention to it. It was not the first time he did something like that, nor the last. It was his way of life. I didn't know how to do anything else.

Three streets to the northwest , he got into his car and looked at the reflection in the rearview mirror. He had dark circles due to the tremendous bustle of the last hours. And it was not over . But it was not time to sleep. I would rest on the plane even though it was barely an hour . He put the key in the ignition and the engine started . The Seat Ibiza of the year 2005 crossed Calatayud in the direction of Madrid. On his left wrist he had a small tattoo with his initials: M and B, Marc Blakely .  

3

The clock hanging in the kitchen of Paul's apartment read eleven thirty in the morning when Noa stalked through the door. Was little more than a day l to explosion had sprayed the cafeteria , calcining t odo what was inside including his brother . The police had initiated investigations to find the type of explosive and evidence that incriminated someone.

The ringing of the phone made her uneasy. His condition had become one saw victim of the silence from the moment that had ed made an appearance in the apartment of Paul Campbell .

Hello?

Noa, I'm Samantha, said a familiar voice .

-Tell me.

Samantha was one of her best friends in town. She had known her since the magazine The True had sent her to Paris months ago to collaborate on various articles in the European zone. D ecting New York was not done so insufferable with the help of Samantha. She was quite a nice girl, very outgoing. He possessed a charm Natu ral , something thick, but did not mind at absolu t or . She used to wear expensive dresses thanks to the comfortable economy of her parents , although on numerous occasions both of them enjoyed the pleasure of shopping together in street markets or second-hand stores . They were a constant support in the day to day Parisian.

How are you feeling ? Her friend asked on the other end of the line.

The answer was made to wait. For Noa, any answer would have been out of context. Seeing a brother die was something he never expected to experience so young.

-How do you think I feel?

'M Supong or . You will see...

Samantha was seldom speechless, so Noa realized that the news she was trying to deliver must not be easy for her.

Easy, Sam, I'm ready for anything,  she answered without hesitation.

The office just called. They have identified your brother's remains.

It was to be expected, she answered quite fully.

The awkward conversation took a break. 

They asked me to tell you that they are waiting for you to give them to you . I didn't want anyone to break the news to you . I preferred to give it to you.

The young woman thanked her friend for her decision. It wasn't easy to get dire reports from outsiders , but it wasn't easy for Samantha to have to be the one to do it. He thought of Paul. In the reflection of a portrait where the two appeared . He wore a huge, sincere smile. The river scene in the background fell on both of them in the form of whitish hills, sublime mountain peaks that crowned the world in clear reverence for the heavens. That inhospitable place that had managed to snatch a short esp ac io time in which they had enjoyed together. And it is that - she thought on occasion - lately Cronos , had created an invisible gap between the two, as subtle as it is insurmountable. Or perhaps the system had simply absorbed them completely .

-Thank you. In a few minutes I'll go over to the Forensic Institute, "he replied .

-You know what...

I know, he cut her off before Samantha finished her sentence.

- Take care .

He hung up.

And she began to cry sitting on the floor . It had been a long time since her eyes had shed tears of sadness, but she couldn't take it anymore. His body desquebrajaba inside to every second that the memory of Paul appeared . The rage she felt deep inside her beat against her pain and outrage. A deep bitterness filled with sadness crushed his whole world . She cried so much that she thought she was out of breath on several occasions and her body began to shake. He still thought he heard his brother's honeyed voice giving him encouragement. << I won't be able to bear it. I won't be able to >>.

He grabbed onto a door handle to lift himself off the ground. He patted his pants gently several times to spit out the dust that had been impregnated on his beds and headed towards the small hall of the house . At the entrance, he saw Paul Campbell's phone . Apparently he had forgotten it when he left in the direction of the cafeteria. For a moment he doubted whether to take it or not, but after a small internal battle , he chose the option of leaving the house with the terminal in his possession .

* * *

Samantha had decided not to go in with Noa to collect her brother's remains. He had told her that he preferred to wait for her outside, since places like that made him anxious. The young journalist, an expert in criminal psychology, came out with a small ceramic urn when she saw her friend talking to someone. U n man of about forty-five, stout , quite attractive , which vest ia a skintight black costume that remarked her muscles. Combed hair dark back l to levaba the beard perfe ctamente cut . A Breil watch on his left wrist reproduced distorted letters on the bare walls of the premises.

Sam, Noa interrupted . We are going?

The girl gave him a smile and made a gesture to introduce him to the man.

—Noa , sorry, this gentleman is looking for you. His name is Frank Kruger.

He stretched out his hand to greet her.

Excuse me , Miss Campbell. I know how difficult these times are for you.

-He knows?

The coldness of the answer paralyzed the guy's answer for a few seconds .

-Yes. I went through a similar situation - he replied with a ragged voice . But I'm not here to condole myself. I am a member of the American embassy, ​​as was his brother.

No to was all ears from then on .

I was very shocked by Paul's terrible death, he continued. We had a good working relationship . Pod r ed say that for me was more than a friend. So I feel obliged to tell you something that you may not know about your brother's work.

- Tell me.

Paul Campbell has spent the last few months helping someone you may know, too . A journalist named Roger Sunderland.

Was he helping Roger? -was surprised-. To what?

Kruger looked both ways. Then he turned his attention to the attractive journalist.

-No arrived HAT ae nterarme. Sometimes he asked me for certain documents that he needed and that I could provide him from my position. They were irrelevant documents. "He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left . But , despite the margin keep me, I know it was something very impor tant . D ected to a side his work at the embassy and had to cover for the time he devoted to his research -volvió to check the place- . And Paul never quit his job. It was the most important thing to him.

And you didn't discover anything? Noa asked him .

I didn't even try. I didn't think it was a good idea. But when I found out about his death and the way he had been killed ... it seemed like a job for the mob itself.

-Mafia? Samantha exclaimed in surprise.

-For example. That bomb was coming for him, "Kruger concluded thoughtfully.

Those documents you gave him, Campbell said again. What were they from? What kind of information did they keep?

This research probe seemed to make the man uncomfortable, growing tense. A small nervous tic seized his right eye almost invisibly. He swallowed hard.

"Some were maps of cities like Paris, Geneva, Washington, Sydney ...

Just the flat? Noa insisted.

-Nothing else. Except ... —he was thoughtful— one.

Noa waited for him to continue speaking without even blinking. It was harder for him to expel the information than she would have liked. 

"He asked me if I knew what lay beyond the Pillars of Hercules."

The young journalist raised her eyebrows and her gesture was followed by Samantha. They looked at each other for a meaningful explanation , a kind of sensible interpretation of that answer , but apparently neither of them found any.

I don't know what that means, Noa replied.

Neither have I, he replied. But it's quite strange for Paul.

- The C olumnas of Hercules His Surro behind Samantha. Will it not refer to a painting?

It doesn't sound familiar, Kruger replied after a while. Also, Paul wasn't very fond of canvases or anything like that. Any kind of oil , to which he had to pay some attention , would not affect his working hours.

Noa didn't understand anything. This conversation with Frank Kruger, whom he had just met, was beyond the surreal. Paul, The Pillars of Hercules , secret work and mystery. Nothing common that could entwine in his brother's world .

-What did you say to him? He asked.

The same as you. I did not know what it was and j amas had heard mention .

Noa Campbell walked in circles around empty space, an intangible point in space . She looked up and directed it right to the center of the incandescent bulb that was enveloping her and that generated an angelic image around her. He let the seconds were running, seconds wearing n a unique idea .

I only know one person who can help me figure out what that means.

4

Peter Becks was the antithesis of what, to Noa Campbell, a real man was. The great intelligence he possessed was undeniable . Not só what had taken career C riminología in record time , but also had l or even with that of psychology. He had worked as scriptwriter to the side of the best direc tors film and critics had labeled the possessor of a mind privileged , which l or had taken even have their own radio and diri gi r various programs.

But if Peter had become famous Becks was being or not of the best bloggers d the world. All the subjects were directed to pure investigation. They could be found from theoretical conspiracies to crimes almost perfect , since not even the police themselves had managed to solve them and they had had to resort to him. Its price consisted of being able to publish only the data of the operation on its bl og . However, physically it was the opposite. The last time he saw him, Becks seemed to be living in the last century despite not reaching his forties . His old-fashioned haircut was the least sexy Noa could remember. I used to wear some glasses fat black paste that resembled him one witch , and clothes she used to wear was the s ensación of who had bought at t endm ents third- or fourth - hand. I ven she doubted anyone sell these tattered rags. He was the last man who would provoke the slightest desire in her.

But the Becks mansion did manage to make her fall in love. Housed on the outskirts of Paris temporarily , the residence could easily cover two hectares , where dozens of vineyards protected and gave splendor to the path that separated the front door of the house. An infinite number of cameras and sensors infrarr eye s were spread along the way , providing a place security at the height of the great world leaders. That paradise was the envy of others. << You can tell that he is one of the most problematic people in the world.

After running the enormous distance to the central building, Noa waited in the hall of the mansion for Peter Becks to appear . Samantha and Kruger obediently followed the reporter .

Is it possible to pay for all this? Her friend commented, admiring the incredible decoration that surrounded them, filled with oil paintings of great value, Greek sculptures that must have cost a fortune and an infinite number of valuables that gave a distinguished touch of high class to the residence. With my salary I could not give the entrance to any of these jewels.

-I know. This is the second time that I am here and I think like you. This guy's ego has no end.

Becks' maid descended a spectacular spiral staircase where, minutes before, she had disappeared in search of the man. V was wearing a dark uniform with cotton trousers and a shirt buttoned up to the neck. He would not be over fifty years old, even if his face revealed otherwise. The journalist remembered her from the last time she had visited the place, something that included her in the difficult circle of trust of the criminologist. 

I ... can't find it, she said puzzled. But it must be in its lair .

"His 'lair' ? Noa repeated.

It's the way you call a little room at the back of the house.

Noa questioned her two comrades with her eyes. It was almost a formal request to accompany her on her search .

Could you take us? It's urgent, "he insisted .

- Follow me .

The small room, about fifty square meters, and ra totalmen you rectangular and was separated p or a unique Zen garden showing careful maintenance and tricked the various visitors who had the privilege to go