Amberville (11 page)

The gazelle shoved me to the side so that we ended up in the shadows, at a respectable distance from the card players.

“Sweetheart. You’re not Eric,” said the gazelle.

The tongue-tiedness I’d shown signs of up till now continued.

“You’re not Eric,” he repeated.

He didn’t sound angry, if anything surprised. His voice was sharp and considerably lighter than I had guessed.

“We’re twins,” I finally forced out.

“What a surprise, sweetheart.”

An ironic gazelle. His laughter sounded like little bells.

He observed me for a long time in silence. I didn’t dare move.

“But you’re not particularly alike,” he said at last. “Other than in appearance.”

I nodded. I agreed. After this evening, I knew that the abyss between Eric and me would never close up again.

“I need that package you got,” he said.

“You…” I stammered, “you’re not Otto Orangutan.”

“Sharp-eyed as a cobra,” mocked the gazelle. “Give it here.”

The gazelle attacked me. More or less. Before I had time to react, he had his hooves in my pants pocket, and I pulled back in terror. I must have gotten a bit of the drapery under my foot, because I stumbled and fell backwards. It was not a violent fall, it was more like I sat down.

The gazelle seemed not to care if anyone saw us. In his eyes shone the same desire that I’d seen in each and every animal in here. I admit that it frightened me.

“We can do this in one of two ways,” said the gazelle. “Either you just give me the package. Or else I have a little fun with you first. Then I take the package.”

I shook my head. The glow in his eyes was so intense that I was forced to look in a different direction.

That was how I discovered my salvation.

Eric came walking toward us.

Before I had time to answer, my twin brother put his paw on the gazelle’s back and murmured something I didn’t hear. The gazelle smiled, an ingratiating, repulsive smile. Then he backed into the shadows of the drapery and disappeared.

My brother extended his paw to me. I took it, and got up. With that I had used up my last bit of strength.

We stood staring at each other without knowing what we should say. In my soul a cry was being formed, a scream for help, and I understood that it belonged to Eric. It was Eric’s scream that was screaming inside me.

I knit my lips together. Not a sound.

Then I turned around and ran as fast as I could, running toward the exit. I continued to run when I came out onto the street, I ran the whole way home, not caring if Mother and Father heard me. I ran up the stairs to my room.

Eric maintains that I’m still running.

T
om-Tom Crow dropped the screwdriver. It fell to the floor with an audible thud.

Eric Bear stopped in his tracks, paralyzed by fear. He could see how the silhouettes of Sam Gazelle and Snake Marek remained standing a few meters farther away in the dark room.

They had broken into Hotel Esplanade less than a minute ago. The weather was past midnight, and the Chauffeurs had neither been seen nor heard for several hours. They ought to be safe. But they were breaking into the house of death. If they were discovered here, neither police nor prosecutor could help them; then they were doomed.

The seconds passed.

The sound from the screwdriver spread through the dark building. Only when the sound had forced its way into every nook and corner without anything happening did Eric dare to set his paw down on the floor.

“We’re going in,” he whispered to Tom-Tom, who was standing closest to him.

The big crow nodded, and along with the gazelle and the snake they went straight into the hideout of the Chauffeurs.

A few days after
the sensational discovery that the Chauffeurs were hanging out a wing-stroke’s distance from Yiala’s Arch, the four stuffed animals kept Hotel Esplanade under observation. The hotel was an ordinary building with a spackled gray and white finish, but with a peculiar feature. It lacked doors and windows on the street level. Apart from the secret garage entrance, which was a part of the façade itself, there was nowhere to go in.

“But we have to get the hell in,” the crow declared wisely. “How else are we going to get hold of the list?”

“It’ll work out,” replied Eric Bear. “We’ll lie low a few days, map out their routines, learn how the opposition looks. Snake is going to think up a plan. Aren’t you, Marek?”

Snake grunted. He was unsure whether Eric was flattering or teasing him.

They drew up a schedule. Because the Chauffeurs only worked at night, the four at Yiala’s Arch were forced to alter their daily rhythms. Eric returned the cars he’d borrowed, but kept the gray Combi. It was perfect to use for surveillance work, neutral and boring beyond recognition. They parked the car kitty-corner from the camouflaged garage door and took turns spending hours in the driver’s seat, making note of every observation.

But nothing happened.

In the twilight, the door to the secret garage was opened and the Chauffeurs drove the red pickup out. Right before dawn, they returned after completion of duty. In between: nothing.

Before the third night, Eric acquired a camera with a massive zoom and a lens that worked in the dark.

“Let’s find out who they are, these Chauffeurs,” the bear said to his friends. “Tom-Tom says that they’re stuffed animals just like us. Perhaps we can find them in one of the windows? If nothing else, we ought to be able to get a picture of them as they drive in and out of the garage.”

“Okay,” said Sam, shrugging his shoulders. “But why?”

They sat, having breakfast at the kitchen table. A crumb from a piece of toast with orange marmalade was stuck to the corner of Sam’s mouth, and his long, red tongue captured it and made it disappear.

“I don’t have a real plan,” Eric admitted. “But the more we know, the better, right?”

“Maybe,” said Snake. “Maybe not. There are occasions when a lack of information can be the thing that—”

“Besides, I’m damned tired of just sitting and staring at that wall,” Eric interrupted with irritation. “But anyone who feels he’s so occupied with other important matters that he doesn’t have time to deal with the camera can just let it be.”

“You have a point there, darling,” giggled Sam.

Snake sighed. He knew that he was the one who would be forced to process the photographs; only he could do that sort of thing.

The following morning they
had the first—and as it turned out only—razor-sharp visual portrayal of ChauffeurTiger. It was a fortunate chance, light reflected toward the hood of a car, lighting up the driver’s seat of the pickup at the same moment that Snake happened to snap the picture. He’d set the camera on the dashboard above the steering wheel. But it wasn’t until he developed the picture the following evening that he realized what he’d photographed.

The image that slowly appeared in the developer bath
became sharper and sharper. He took the photo paper from the solution and hung it up to dry, but couldn’t continue with the rest of the roll. From the drying line ChauffeurTiger was staring right into Snake’s narrow eyes and beyond, into his soul. Tiger’s face was enormous, his fur gray and battered but his gaze hard and cold. It was a gaze that could kill; these were eyes that had seen everything. During his entire adult life, Snake Marek had struggled with doubt about his own artistic abilities. Faced with ChauffeurTiger’s unmerciful gaze, he could hide nothing.

Snake recoiled, shocked and afraid, and wriggled out of the bathroom which he’d turned into a darkroom. During the ensuing night, the friends determined that there were apparently only three Chauffeurs, the tiger and two wolves. They probably went in shifts, and these three would be replaced by three others at some later time.

The wolves were no charmers, either, but despite their sharp, yellow teeth and their scornfully pulled-back upper lips, it was still ChauffeurTiger who gave Sam, Eric, Snake, and Tom-Tom nightmares.

And it was the thought of being caught by ChauffeurTiger that meant that they hesitated another few days before they dared break into Hotel Esplanade.

They came into a
kind of all-purpose room which was large, dark, and deserted.

“Snake and Sam, you take the right side, we’ll take the left,” whispered Eric, making a gesture.

They didn’t know what they were looking for. The Death List could be a coffee-stained scrap of paper on a nightstand, but just as likely a document in a leather folder locked up in a safe. They had also discussed the risk that the Chauffeurs took the list with them in the red pickup.

Eric took a few steps toward the door to the left. He heard Tom-Tom directly behind him. The snake and the gazelle were still standing beside him.

“We’ll do this as fast as hell,” hissed Eric. “Then we’ll get out of here.”

They worked efficiently for the next few minutes. The bear side by side with the crow. It was easier to search through the premises than Eric had thought. The Chauffeurs had hardly any furniture and very few personal effects. The dust bunnies revealed that they weren’t interested in cleaning, but there were nooks where things could be hidden. When, after less than a quarter of an hour, Eric and Tom-Tom went back out to the large room where Snake and Sam were already waiting, they were rather certain that they hadn’t missed anything.

“Nothing,” whispered Snake.

“Not us, either,” answered Tom-Tom.

“Now let’s split,” said Sam.

The gazelle’s entire body was shaking. It had already been shaking when, a half hour ago, they had raised the ladder against the window on the second story. That window had stood ajar since they’d starting keeping an eye on Hotel Esplanade. As the gazelle was climbing up, the ladder had shaken so much that the crow had been forced to use all of his weight to hold the ladder steady.

“We’re not going to find any list. There is no list. We’re still alive. Let’s leave,” Sam clarified.

Eric nodded. There was nothing else to do.

They returned to the corner room with the open window. They had pulled the ladder up after them; now they carried out the opposite maneuver in order to make their way back down to the street.

“Fiasco,” muttered Snake Marek as they were on their way toward Yiala’s Arch a few minutes later.

“We’re alive,” said Gazelle. “That has to count as a success, old man.”

O
n the morning of Tuesday the thirteenth of May, only five hours after they had returned from their fruitless break-in at Hotel Esplanade, there was a banging on the door to Sam’s apartment.

Sam, Snake, and Eric all jumped up from their sleeping spots, as though wakened from the same nightmare. Tom-Tom Crow had forced himself to wake up less than half an hour ago, got dressed, and gone out and shopped for food. Just like for the watch shifts at night, there was a schedule for who would take care of the shopping. Today it had been Tom-Tom’s turn.

Again there was a banging.

Eric and Snake looked urgently at Sam, who with an embarrassed mumbling got up out of his bed, pulled on his bathrobe, and shuffled over toward the door.

“Go away!” he shouted. “Get out of here. The store is closed. You’ll have to humiliate yourselves somewhere else.”

This led to more determined knocks, and with a heavy sigh Sam Gazelle opened the door a crack.

But instead of making a small gap out toward the stairway hall, Sam was pressed back into the apartment with violent force. The gazelle stumbled backwards and fell down on the floor on his side with a bang. Eric and Snake threw themselves out of their beds, but before they had time to go anywhere Nicholas Dove’s two gorillas were standing in the room, staring at them. And with a certain elegance, Dove strolled into the tumult, his glance fastened on Eric Bear, a disdainful smile evident at the corner of his mouth.

“This doesn’t inspire a great deal of hope,” he said, continuing over to the kitchen table, where he pulled out a chair and sat down.

The gorillas remained standing where they were, on either side of the door, the red one to the right. With some effort, Sam struggled to his feet, attempting to regain some element of dignity.

“Nicholas Dove,” he said, giggling amiably, “so nice to—”

“Time flies,” interrupted Dove, directing himself straight at Eric as if the gazelle didn’t even exist. “And I can’t say that I’m impressed by your progress.”

Dove’s concentration was directed completely at Eric Bear. Sam proceeded over to the kitchen counter for the purpose of offering Dove something to drink; Snake Marek stood expectantly by his mattress, the farthest inside the apartment, observing the development of events.

“You know,” said Dove, “time is just what I don’t have.”

“It might seem as though nothing is happening,” Eric began in his defense. “But that’s not true, we have actually—”

Nicholas Dove held up his wing deprecatingly; he wasn’t here to listen to the bear’s excuses.

“It’s not the case,” said Dove, “that I don’t keep myself informed.”

“Would you like anything? A cup of tea, water, something stronger?” asked Sam.

“I’m assuming that you keep yourself informed,” answered Eric. “Anything else wouldn’t be you. But this is, nonetheless…”

Eric held out his paws. The mood in the room was expectant. Only a few moments ago Snake had tensed every muscle in his narrow, short body, ready to slither in under the mattress or somewhere else where he wouldn’t be seen. But with every word that was exchanged between the bear and the dove the snake relaxed. He was not the focus of this visit. As long as neither of the gorillas moved, they mostly resembled stone statues, and Nicholas Dove was, as always, removed in a super animal kind of way. The only thing holding up the nervous energy was Sam, who noisily searched for ice in the freezer. He had decided, on his own authority, to serve Nicholas Dove a glass of water.

“And the worst thing is,” said Dove, “I’m not at all certain that you’re exerting yourself.”

His tone of voice was slightly absent; he didn’t look at Eric but rather his gaze swept across the room as though he were searching for something.

“Not exerting myself?” repeated the bear, irritated. “I’m living in a pigsty in Yok, I’ve turned the day upside down in order to—”

“You don’t understand,” interrupted Dove. “It’s not a question of what you’re doing, it’s a matter of what you’re coming up with.”

And with an unexpected intensity, he burrowed his gaze into the bear, who involuntarily stepped back. In Nicholas Dove’s normally inscrutable pupils was a desperation that Eric had never seen before, and which he never wanted to see again. It was coal-black and unmerciful.

“I’m forced to make myself clear, I think,” said Dove in a low voice.

A scarcely discernible nod, and suddenly things happened.

When both of the gorillas—as if they were guided, if somewhat slow, robots—took the few steps over to Eric Bear and took hold of the bear’s arms, the nervous Sam dropped the water glass that he’d finally filled. The sharp crash of breaking glass caused Nicholas Dove to react with surprising speed. Dove whirled around, turning his back to the others. Sam screamed as ice and glass splinters whirled around his hooves, and before the scream had quieted, Nicholas Dove had conjured an automatic weapon from his wing; larger than a pistol but smaller than a carbine. For a brief moment he aimed the weapon at Sam, but then Dove realized what had happened. Without batting an eye he put the weapon back inside his feathers and again directed his attention toward Eric Bear.

Snake Marek had been waiting for this moment of confusion.

In the moment that followed after the water glass struck the floor, Snake was already past the gorillas. He wriggled out through the open door and was on his way down the stairs when the dove pulled out his weapon. Eric looked after Marek. Nothing else was really to be expected of that miserable snake, he thought. Nicholas Dove didn’t even condescend to send a gorilla to bring back the reptile; that’s how insignificant he was in the dove’s eyes.

“It’s important to be clear,” continued Dove as if this little intermezzo hadn’t taken place. “And I’m wondering if you’ve understood that there is a time factor to take into account here.”

“Obviously I have—” began Eric, but he got no further before one of the gorillas punched him in the stomach with a force that completely took the breath out of him.

The surprise also did its part. His legs lost all their strength, and suddenly it was the gorillas who were holding him up.

“You don’t have much time,” said Dove.

The next blow struck above the bear’s eye, gliding across his eyebrow and a little ways up over his forehead. Before Eric had time to feel it the next hit came, against the temple, and then he felt the pain in his belly. He coughed, not seeing the cotton coming out of his mouth, but Sam started screaming from over in the kitchen.

“Shut your mouth, you goose.”

It was the first time Dove had addressed anyone else in the room, and he did so in a low but determined voice. Sam became silent immediately.

The gorillas released Eric Bear, who with a heavy thud fell to the floor.

Eric was struggling to retain consciousness, but failed. It was as though Sam’s apartment gradually faded away, and instead the beach in Hillevie emerged. With a pleasurable intoxication in his body he was strolling along the edge of the beach, on his way over to the decrepit pier. Eric had experienced many of life’s best moments sitting on the worn planks on the pier at the north end of the beach.

He carefully balanced out to the end of the pier, where he sat down with his legs hanging over the edge and his paws a few decimeters above the surface of the water. In the moonlight the sea was lying dark and endless before him, removing all feelings of time and distance.

And he knew that this was the exact same water that had been there a million years before. The cycle of nature functioned like that. Eternity was no more terrifying than the water gurgling under the pier, time was just as inexorably sluggish. The sound of the rippling sea was unexpectedly reminiscent of Nicholas Dove’s voice.

“It would be stupid to tear you apart now,” Eric heard the water say, “but time is running out. And I thought that if you’re having a hard time finding the proper feeling for
this assignment, there are a few small things I should be able to use your rabbit for even now. What do you think? Shall we take her to the casino this evening already? Think about it.”

If Dove said anything more before he left Sam Gazelle’s apartment, Eric never knew it. The bear disappeared back down into his unconsciousness.