The Mask of Destiny (18 page)

Gerald gave Ruby a shunt in the back. ‘Your turn to ask.'

Ruby stumbled as she lurched towards the counter. ‘Uh, hello,' she said, righting herself as she reached the woman. ‘
Bonjour
.'

The woman at the counter raised her head and looked at Ruby over a pair of brown-framed glasses that were attached to a chain around her neck.

‘Yes?'

‘Um…we're trying to find out about this book,' Ruby said, holding up the red-leather volume. ‘And some place called the Tower of the Winds. Have you heard of it?'

The woman put the cigarette to her lips and drew in an impossibly deep lungful of smoke. She studied Ruby over the rims of her glasses, paused, then expelled the pungent contents of her lungs into the air.

‘Do I look like the tourist bureau?' she rasped.

‘No, of course not,' Ruby said. ‘Anything but. Though, that's not to say it's not a welcoming place you have here. It's very nice.
Très bon
, even. It's just that we're looking for the Tower of the Winds, and it's mentioned in this really old book and we thought you might know something about it. Not that you're really old. Though of course you are, but, um, in a good way…' Ruby's voice petered out to a smile of embarrassment.

The woman glared at Ruby. Then clicked her fingers and pointed to the book.

‘Old in a good way?' Sam whispered in Ruby's ear after she'd handed the book to the woman. ‘Nice.'

Ruby pressed her lips together and Gerald could see she was struggling to stay quiet.

The woman bent her face close to the cover, paying particular attention to Gerald's family crest. She flicked a lamp on and it shone a yellow spot on the countertop.

‘Where did you get this?' the woman asked with practised indifference.

‘It was a gift,' Gerald said quickly, stepping up beside Ruby. ‘From some, uh, old friends of my family.'

The woman shot him a sceptical glance, then expertly twisted the spine to reveal the illustration.

‘As I thought,' she said. ‘Fore edge painting. Possibly eighteenth century. An artistic folly: a little bit of fun and nonsense. But this one has so much detail.' She opened a desk drawer and rummaged inside, finally pulling out a magnifying glass. She tipped the edge of the book forward. ‘You notice the imagery used here: the clock face on the ceiling, both hands pointed to twelve. A time of transition, moving from one state to another. The white line across the floor, dividing the room in two. Representing the division between good and evil, perhaps? A line that should not be crossed. The text here, identifying this as the Tower of the Winds. The frescoes— forest scenes, ancient buildings—reproduced with such precision, such
joie de vivre
.' She closed the book and ran her fingertips across the cover. ‘It is a particularly fine piece.'

‘But do you know anything about the Tower of the Winds?' Gerald asked.

The woman lowered herself from the stool and crossed to a cabinet by the rear wall. She removed a key from her pocket, unlocked a sliding door and pulled out a worn manuscript tied with a red ribbon. ‘This may give us some answers,' she said.

She placed the manuscript on the counter and returned to her perch. A cloud of dust was liberated into the air as she untied the ribbon. She ran her bony finger down the page. ‘Ah,' she said, flicking further into the manuscript. ‘Now this is interesting.'

Gerald craned his neck, trying to see what the woman was looking at. She leaned over the papers, blocking his view with her folded arms. ‘Now perhaps you could tell me exactly how you obtained this book?' she said, fixing Gerald with a penetrating stare.

‘We didn't steal it, if that's what you mean,' Gerald said, trying to look innocent. ‘It was a gift. Like I said.'

The woman didn't blink. ‘Who said anything about stealing?' She stroked the cover again, trailing her stained fingers across the leather. ‘I assume you're interested in selling?'

Gerald titled his head. ‘No, not really. It's a family heirloom.'

The woman arched an eyebrow. ‘Well, in that case,' she said, ‘we won't be needing this.' She pulled the manuscript together and started tying up the ribbon.

Gerald clenched his fists. He didn't have a choice.

‘All right,' he said. ‘We'll sell it.' A sinking feeling rocked in the pit of his stomach. ‘Now, what does it say in there about the Tower of the Winds?'

The corners of the woman's mouth raised a millimetre. She opened the pages of the manuscript again. ‘The Tower of the Winds,' she stated, ‘is a little-known annex of the Vatican Museum in Rome. It dates from the sixteenth century and was originally used for taking astronomical measurements.'

‘Astronomy?' Sam said. ‘Planets and stars?'

‘Thank you, genius,' Ruby said. ‘Top of the class.'

The woman pulled the pages back together and tied the ribbon.

‘Hold on,' said Gerald. ‘Is that it?'

‘That,' the woman said, reaching for her cigarettes, ‘is it.'

Gerald snatched the book back from the counter. ‘Then I'm not selling,' he said.

The woman regarded him evenly. She placed another cigarette in her mouth and struck a match. ‘If I was on the run, I would not wish to be weighed down by such an item,' she said. She lit the cigarette and blew a pall of smoke in Gerald's face.

‘On the run? What makes you think—'

The woman flipped over a newspaper on the counter. Gerald couldn't understand the headline on the front page, but the large photographs of him, Sam and Ruby told a clear enough story.

‘I will do you a deal,' the woman said, drawing in another lungful of smoke. ‘I will purchase this book from you. And I won't ring the police.'

Gerald tightened his grip on the book.

‘I don't think there's any other option, Gerald.' Ruby was at his elbow, her hand on his shoulder. ‘And we could do with some cash.'

Gerald gritted his teeth. After a lifetime of not giving a toss about his family, now, for some reason, anything that was linked to his personal history was of immense importance. The rings on his hands seemed to tighten around his fingers as he held the book to his chest.

The woman lifted a beaten tin box onto the counter and opened the lid. ‘One hundred euro is a fair price,' she said, and held out a wad of folded notes.

Gerald looked at the money. Then he closed his eyes and handed over the book. Sam took the cash and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Nice doing business with you,' he said. ‘Come on, Gerald. Let's go.'

Gerald was almost at the door when he stopped and turned back to the old woman.

‘There is one other thing,' he said.

The woman was engrossed in the book and didn't bother to look their way. ‘The night train to Rome leaves from Gare de Bercy,' she said. ‘You should make it if you go now.'

The bell jangled above their heads as Gerald, Sam and Ruby filed back onto the street.

‘So we're going to Rome?' Ruby said.

‘If that's where the Tower of the Winds is, then I guess so,' Gerald said.

They walked back to the main road and the Metro station. There was a large map of the area on a poster hoarding outside the entrance.

Ruby studied the grid of city blocks and interconnecting rail lines. ‘The Gare de Bercy is just across the river,' she said, with a satisfied nod. ‘An easy trip on the Metro. We should get there in plenty of time.'

They turned to climb the stairs down to the subway but found a station worker sliding a metal screen across the entrance. ‘
La station est fermée
,' the man said.

‘Closed?' Ruby said. ‘Are you kidding me? What for?'

The station worker ignored them and disappeared down the stairwell.

Sam groaned. ‘Now what do we do? I don't want to walk all that way.'

‘We could take a cab,' Ruby said. ‘But that costs money. And the traffic is ridiculous. It could take forever. What do you think Gerald?'

Ruby looked to Gerald, but he was staring down the street. There was a mischievous glint in his eye.

‘Maybe there's another way,' he said.

Gerald brushed past Ruby and Sam and walked to a row of bicycles lined up in a rack on the side of the street. Cars and scooters whizzed past the siding. ‘They're hire bikes,' he said. ‘It only costs a euro and there'll be a bike stand at the train station for sure. It's cheaper than a taxi and probably quicker.'

A minute later they each held the handlebars of a gunmetal grey bicycle with a natty basket attached to the front.

‘Right,' Ruby said. ‘See if you can keep up.' She pushed down on the pedals and took off into the stream of traffic.

Gerald was still adjusting the height of his seat and was caught off guard. He leaped on and surged off in pursuit. ‘Come, on Sam,' he called back over his shoulder. ‘Don't let her get there first.'

Gerald was having the time of his life. He was in one of the most exciting cities on earth with two of his best friends, in hot pursuit of a goal he could hardly fathom. The sun was on his face and a sense of freedom infused his bones, like he'd been pumped full of helium and might soar into the Parisian sky.

Ahead of him, Ruby was already weaving in and out of lanes choked with cars and lorries and scooters.

‘Come on, Sam!' Gerald cried. ‘She's getting—'

Gerald's foot slipped from the pedal as he looked back towards the bicycle rental station and he juddered to keep upright. Sam's bike lay abandoned on the footpath. And Sam was desperately trying to wrestle free from the two policemen who had him firmly by the arms.

Chapter 13

G
erald had to choose.

Help Sam? Or escape?

The policemen held Sam tight despite his kicks and struggles. One gendarme wrenched on a flailing arm till it was pinned between Sam's shoulder blades. Sam's face shone a belligerent red. He was being bundled into the back of a police car, still kicking and screaming.

Then Gerald saw the man in the front passenger seat staring right at him.

Inspector Jarvis.

And he had blood in his eyes.

He barked an order. The policemen shoved Sam inside and slammed the door. One gendarme jumped behind the driver's wheel and the other set off on foot, after Gerald.

The moment to choose had passed. Gerald turned and pressed down on the pedals, cycling like fury to catch up with Ruby.

Sam was on his own.

‘Ruby!' Gerald urged the heavy bike onwards, dodging through the clogged traffic. ‘Ruby!' He caught up with her half a block away.

‘Where's Sam?' she asked, the thrill of the ride glowing on her face.

‘Police.' Gerald tried to catch his breath. ‘Jarvis got him. The bike stand.'

‘What?' She threw her head around to look back down the street. In the distance, they could see the flashing light bar on top of the police car. It was stuck in the late afternoon traffic. But the lone policeman on foot was gaining on them. Gerald could see him talking into his police radio as he ran.

‘We've got to get away,' Gerald yelled.

‘But what about Sam?' Ruby's eyes were fixed on the car that held her brother prisoner. ‘We can't leave him.'

The policeman was only metres away, edging between the stalled lanes of cars and trucks. Gerald shook Ruby by the shoulder. ‘We've got to go,' he yelled at her. ‘Now!'

Ruby let her eyes linger a moment too long. The policeman had almost reached them. He was only a car length away. His face was bright red and Gerald watched in despair as he lunged towards Ruby. But just as he stretched out an arm, a young woman on a scooter appeared between two cars and straight into his path. Gerald shook Ruby even harder and screamed: ‘Go!'

Ruby snapped out of her trance and mounted her bike, driving the pedals hard. Gerald was on her tail, surging forward with each pump of his legs. He glanced over his shoulder to see the policeman still trying to untangle himself from the woman on the scooter. Jarvis was way behind, stuck in traffic. But so was Sam, and Gerald knew another difficult decision was looming.

He powered ahead, drawing beside Ruby. ‘Quick, down here,' he called, and they veered off the busy street into a narrow laneway. The lane ended thirty metres ahead at a stairway to a lower terrace. Gerald spun his rear wheel around in a wide arc and skidded to a halt. Ruby pulled up and was off the bike in a second, letting it clatter to the ground. She ran up to Gerald, anger etched into her face.

‘What happened?' she demanded. ‘How did you let them catch him?' Her eyes were red and she was breathing fast.

‘I didn't
let
them do anything,' Gerald said, taken aback by her ferocity. ‘They must have been waiting near the station and jumped Sam as we took off. Jarvis is with them—giving the orders.'

Ruby wasn't listening. She pounded her fists on Gerald's chest. ‘Why didn't you help him?' She was furious. ‘You could have done something.'