Evil Star by Anthony Horowitz

be at a church in London. St. Meredith's."
    "Very good." Both of them were speaking in English. It was the language that Salamanda used for all his business.
    "What do you want me to do?" the voice asked.
    “You have done enough, my friend. And you will be rewarded. Now you can leave it to me."

    "What will you do?"
    Salamanda paused. An ugly light shimmered in his strangely colorless eyes. He didn't like being asked ques-tions. But he was in a generous mood. "I will take the diary and kill Mr. Morton," he replied.
    "And the boy?"
    "If the boy is there, then of course I will kill him, too."

    Chapter 6 St. Meredith's
    The church was near Shoreditch, in an ugly part of London that really wasn't like London at all. At school, Matt had learned about the Blitz, when German bombers had destroyed great chunks of the city, particularly in the East End. What the teachers hadn't told him Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star was that the blank spaces and rubble had been replaced with modern, con-crete office blocks, multilevel parking garages, cheap, tacky shops and — cutting between them — wide, anonymous highways that carried an endless stream of traffic with a lot of noise but not a great deal of speed.
    He had been brought here by taxi, dropped off at the end of Market Street, which in fact turned out to be a grubby lane running between a pub and a launderette. The church stood at the bottom end, looking sad and out of place. It had been bombed, too. A new steeple had been added at some time in the last twenty years and it didn't quite match the stone pillars and arched doorways below. St. Meredith's was surprisingly large and at one time must have been quite grand, standing at the center of a thriving community. But the community had moved on and the church looked exactly as it was —
    abandoned. It no longer had any reason to exist.

    Once again, Matt wondered why the bookseller, William Morton, had chosen this place for their meeting. At least they would have no difficulty recognizing each other. There were few people around —
    and certainly no sign of the hundred armed police officers that the assistant commis-sioner had promised. As he made his way down the lane, a door of the pub opened and a bearded man with a broken nose stepped unsteadily out. It was only twelve o'clock, but he was already drunk. Or perhaps he was still hung over from the night before. Matt quickened his pace. There was a cell phone in his pocket, and Richard was only a few min-utes away if he needed help. Matt wasn't afraid. He just wanted to get this over with and go back to ordinary life.
    He walked up to the front door, wondering if he would even be able Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star to get in. The door was very solid and some-how gave the impression of being locked. Matt reached out and lifted the handle.
    Cold and heavy in his hand, it turned reluctantly, with a creaking sound. The door swung open and Matt stepped forward, passing from bright daylight to a strange, shadow-filled interior. The sun was shut out. The sound of the traffic disappeared. Matt had left the door open but it swung closed behind him. The boom of the wood hitting the frame echoed through the empty space.
    He was standing at the end of the nave, which stretched out to an altar some distance away. There were no electric lights in the church, and the stained-glass windows were either too dusty or too darkly colored to let in any light. But there were about a thousand candles illuminating the way forward, flickering together in little crowds, gathered round the chapels and alcoves that lined the sides of the building. As Matt's eyes got used to the gloom, he made out various figures, old men and women kneeling in the pews or hunched up in front of the tombstones, dressed in black and looking like ghosts that had somehow drifted up from the catacombs below.
    He swallowed. He was liking this less and less, and he wished now that he had insisted on