One False Note - 39 Clues 02 (11 page)

She was inching away from the overenthusiastic fan when she saw the sign:

IBSEN ->

HOUDINI ->

KUROSAWA ->

MOZART ->

BASQUIAT ->

Mozart! Of course the Janus branch would have a section devoted to its most famous -musical member.

She caught Dan's eye, inclining her head ever so slightly in the direction of the placard. He nodded. As usual, Mozart would be the key.

With everyone focused on the performances, it was easy for them to sneak out of the atrium and down another art-lined corridor.

They passed a couple of side galleries dedicated to prominent Janus Cahills before reaching a doorway marked MOZART: Wolfgang, Maria Anna, Leopold. "Who's Leopold?" Dan wanted to know.

"Their father," Amy supplied. "He was a famous musician in his own right. He devoted

his life to bringing out his kids' talents -- especially Wolfgang's."

The room was smaller, but it could have been in one of the museums they had visited,

with elegant eighteenth-century musica
l instruments and furniture.

"These guys could out-Mozart the Mozart houses," Dan observed, examining a wall that was floor-to-ceiling glass cases displaying handwritten sheet music. He frowned at a thick volume on the bottom shelf. "What's this? Looks like a book by Mozart's dad."

"Violin Method.

Back in the seventeen hundreds, it was the number one violin textbook in the world." She drew in a sharp breath. "Dan -- it's the harpsichord Mozart played when he was three! Think about it: You were still in diapers at that age, and here's this tiny toddler pressing keys, listening for 'notes that like each other.'"

"Maybe Mozart was in diapers, too," her brother said defensively. "Just because you're a genius doesn't mean you can use a chamber pot."

Amy's eyes panned the many objects on exhibit, coming to focus on a glass case in the center of the room. Propped up in the display were three yellowed papers covered with elaborate handwriting. Very familiar handwriting ...

"The missing pages! The ones that were torn out of Nannerl's diary!" Dan appeared at her elbow. "What do they say?"

She regarded him with exasperation. "They're in German, dweeb. We have to get them out of here and show them to Nellie."

"That'll be a neat trick," her brother commented ruefully. He indicated a strange device

connected to the display case. A small white porcelain tray was
mounted beneath a bright light source. "I've seen pictures of these. It's a retinal scanner. You stick your chin in the holder, and the light reads your eyeball." Amy digested this. "Maybe our eyeballs will pass. Four branches of the family -- there's a one-in-four chance we've got Janus retinas."

"And a three-in-four chance that we're toast. Amy, these guys have zillion-dollar

paintings just hanging off nails in the wall, and we're going after the one thing they put

under tight security. I don't understand it, but it's pretty clear that if we try to jack

those pages and get caught, payback is going to be a monster."

Amy stepped away from the scanner. There was no question that Cahills played for

keeps. With ultimate power at stake, did taking a risk mean laying their lives on the

line?

Her anxious thoughts were interrupted by a famous voice in the hall outside the Mozart room: "This place is off the hook, yo! Mom never told me all these heavy hitters were

Cahills "

CHAPTER 1
4

Dan went white to the ears. He turned to his sister and mouthed, "Jonah!"

Amy dragged him behind the Mozart family's harpsichord. There they cowered, barely

daring to breathe.

"It
is
impressive," agreed another voice, this one with an Italian accent. "Clearly, the Janus name made a greater contribution to the arts than any family in human history."

"We got it going on," Jonah drawled.

"Here's a piece that will be of special interest to an American," the man told Jonah.

"Perhaps the most widely copied picture of all time -- the portrait of your first president,

George Washington, printed on every US dollar bill for more than a century. Painted by

Gilbert Stuart in 1796. His great-grandmother was born Gertrude Cahill."

"Tight," said Jonah. "But I thought that picture was in the Museum of Fine Arts in

Boston."

The host's voice radiated deep distaste. "That is just the rough draft. Most of the canvas is left blank. This piece is -- what do you Americans call it?" "The real deal?" Jonah suggested.

"Esattamente.

Most Janus artists reserve their very best for us. Remind me to show you Van Gogh's finished

'Starry Night.' The lunar eclipse is spectacular. Now if you'll follow me ..."

Amy peeked around the side of the harpsichord. She could see Jonah and his father escorted by a tall, thin man with jet-black hair tied in a ponytail. They stopped at the glass case with the missing diary pages.

"This is, I believe, what you came for," Ponytail announced. "From the journal of Maria Anna Mozart."

Amy and Dan exchanged a stricken look. Had they come so far only to watch Jonah Wizard snatch their prize from right under their noses?

Jonah regarded the retinal scanner. "Serious security. These papers must be all that." The host was apologetic. "In truth, we are not certain why these particular pages are so valuable. But over the centuries, they have been the object of much warring between the branches. It was only prudent to take precautions."

Jonah's father spoke up. "Jonah doesn't do retinal scans. His eyes are insured with Lloyd's of London for eleven million dollars." He tapped his BlackBerry in annoyance. "No signal down here."

"Chill, Pops. One time won't hurt." Jonah placed his chin in the holder and stared into the light. There was a beep, and a computerized voice announced, "Confirmation complete

-- Wizard, Jonah; mother: Cora Wizard, member, Janus high council; father: Broderick T. Wizard, non-Cahill, limited Janus authorization."

Mr. Wizard scowled. He was obviously not pleased to be a second-class citizen in Janus-land.

Ponytail put on latex gloves and handed a pair to Jonah. Then he slid open a door in the bulletproof glass, removed the Nannerl pages, and presented them to the young celebrity. "You'll review them in our office, of course. Naturally, we can't allow them to leave the stronghold."

"I'm sure my wife will be interested to know how you run this place like an armed camp," Mr. Wizard grumbled, "even for her own son."

"Your wife," the guide sniffed haughtily, "designed our security protocols personally." "It's fine, Dad," Jonah soothed. "Mom's down with it, and so am I." The trio left the Mozart room. Amy leaped up to follow, but Dan put an iron grip on her arm.

"What are you going to do?" he hissed. "Mug Jonah Wizard in the middle of Janus headquarters?"

"We can't let him go!" she retorted. "We might as well just hand him the whole contest!"

"Getting yourself caught isn't going to change that!" her brother insisted. "This is his
turf! We'd have to fight a gang of crazy artists who'd rip our heads off for those three pages because they love these dumb museum pieces more than life itself!"

She looked startled and then determined. "You're right! They'll do anything to protect their artwork! Come on!"

She ran into the hall. Dan followed, confused, but ready for action. Ahead of them, the Wizards and their host stepped into the atrium, pausing to observe the squirt painters and their spinning wheel. In another moment, they'd be lost in the crowd. It was now or never.

Amy dashed past Jonah, leaped onto the stage, and snatched a tube of liquid red from a bewildered artist. Jonah pointed. "Hey, isn't that -- ?"

Before he could finish the question, Amy jumped down again. In a few seconds she'd be the center of attention, but her fear of crowds was the last thing on her mind. Every fiber of her being was focused on what she had to do. Ponytail turned on her. "Who are you? How did you get in here?" Amy ran to the legendary portrait of George Washington. "Freeze!" she ordered,

pointing the paint at the picture on the wall. "One more step and George gets it!" Ponytail's eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Are you kidding?" piped up Dan. "That's my sister! She's on the edge!" Jonah slipped the diary pages inside his jacket. "What do you Cahills want?" "Those papers you're trying to hide," Amy told him. "Hand them over."

"They're nothing!" Jonah babbled, unable to believe that Amy and Dan had outmaneuvered him here,
in his own branch's stronghold. "Just garbage, yo. I was looking for a trash can -- " "Cough them up, Wizard," Dan snarled.

"Forget it."

Amy brandished the paint tube an inch from the first president's face. "I'm not afraid to use this!"

"You're bluffing!" Jonah accused. But behind his bravado, his confidence was weakening, cracks forming in the legendary Wizard attitude. "Slime him, sis," Dan urged. "Make him a redcoat."

Amy hesitated, overcome with guilt. This was a priceless painting, an American treasure, and she was going to have to ruin it. Otherwise they were doomed. How could things ever have come to this? She took a deep breath and steeled herself to do the deed.

"No-o!"

The cry that came from Ponytail was like an air raid siren. "You can have the pages! Just don't harm that picture!"

Jonah's father was appalled. "You don't have that authority! This place may look like a museum, but it
isn't one! You're talking about handing over vital information to the enemy! There's a lot more at stake here than a painting!
”

"You are not a Janus, sir!" Ponytail stormed. "Your kind will never appreciate the unique and irreplaceable life force in any work of art -- let alone a priceless masterpiece!" "Last chance!" Dan exclaimed.

Jonah hesitated. He understood Ponytail's anguish -- the George Washington painting was part of Janus history. But Dad knew that the diary papers -- clue hunting, the contest

-- could be its destiny. What was the right call? The president or Nannerl? The past or the future? Nervously, he shifted his weight from side to side, unsure of what to do, unused to being unsure.

Amy's eyes met her brother's. They'd never have a better chance. She swung the paint tube around and emptied it into the faces of Ponytail and the two Wizards. While the three floundered, rubbing red out of stinging eyes, Dan sprang. He wrenched the diary pages from the disabled Jonah, and the Cahills fled down the corridor. The last thing they heard before a deafening alarm went off was the voice of Ponytail assuring the Wizards, "Don't worry. They won't get far."

Amy and Dan pounded through the corridors, spiraling deeper into the guts of the underground complex.

"Shouldn't we be going up, not down?" rasped Dan, tucking the pages in the crook of his arm, football-style.

Amy nodded breathlessly as the wisdom of his words cut through the urgency of their flight. Escape meant finding a way out
of the stronghold. They were running in the wrong direction.

Then she spotted it. Partially hidden by a modern art installation featuring a tall pyramid of soda cans was a narrow doorway. And through there --"Stairs!" Amy grabbed her brother's arm. "Let's go!"

"Yo!" Jonah barreled onto the scene, his well-known face stained red. "You'll never make it, you guys! Come back and we can work something out!" His shouts were barely audible over the blare of the Klaxon.

His father appeared at his side, followed by Ponytail and several other Janus. They did not look like they wanted to work something out. Pure, unadulterated rage radiated from them.

The message flashed between the Cahills as if by radar: Now!

They hurled themselves into the pyramid, sending an avalanche of soft drink containers pelting down on their pursuers. There were cries of shock and fury as Jonah and the Janus slipped and tripped on thousands of empty cans. The alarm blasting in their ears, Amy and Dan spr
inted up the concrete steps.

"Where are we?" Dan panted as they ran. "Any idea how to get back to the CD shop?" Amy shook her head helplessly. "There must be a different exit!" But her heart sank as she swung around the next landing. Twenty feet ahead, at the top of the flight, the stairwell was blocked by an iron barrier. Dan hurled himself at the gate. "Ow!" He bounced off, rubbing his shoulder.

Amy worked at the padlock. "No use!" she panted. "We'll have to find another way." They pushed through a heavy curtain, stumbling into the only hallway they'd seen so far that wasn't plastered with art. Dan wrinkled his nose. "What stinks?"

"Garbage," Amy decided. "Even great artists have to take out the trash. They must get rid of it somehow. There has to be an exit close by."

They were halfway down the corridor when two jump
-
suited figures appeared at the far end. Amy and Dan squinted in the dim light at the flames dancing on their dueling swords. One of the squirt painters stepped out beside them.

Oh, no!
thought Amy in despair.

The whole stronghold is after us now!

The Cahills wheeled to backtrack, only to see Ponytail and the Wizards blocking their retreat.

Jonah shook his head, clucking in false sympathy. "Told you guys -- no way out."

They were about to be sandwiched between advancing Janus. "Got any more miracles?" Dan asked through clenched teeth.

Amy didn't answer. She was staring at a lever right smack-dab in the middle of the wall.

It didn't seem to be connected to anything, AIR LOCK read the control, with translations

in several languages. There were two settings: PUMP ON and PUMP OFF.

She stared. She had no idea what the device was, but one thing was clear: It couldn't

possibly make their situation any worse. She heaved the switch to PUMP ON.

And there was her miracle.

CHAPTER 15

A panel of wall swept back to reveal a Plexiglas chamber filled with water. With a loud thrumming noise, the water was sucked away. An airtight hatch hissed open. There was no hesitation. This might be a trap, and a deadly one at that. But with enemies coming at them from both sides, it looked like escape. Dan in the lead, they scrambled up a metal ladder. He was mystified. "Where did all this water come from?" "You're in Venice, dweeb!" Amy's arms and legs worked like pistons. "The canals, remember? Keep climbing!"

"Look -- " he exclaimed. "Daylight!"

The late afternoon sun shone down through the grill of a sewer grating. Amy knew a brief moment of panic. Manhole covers were iron and weighed hundreds of pounds.

What if they were trapped?

Her fear disappeared as Dan easily flipped the grating aside. "Plastic!" he chortled. He

scrambled out of the shaft and pulled his sister up beside him.

They took stock of their surroundings. They were on a narrow stone dock along one of Venice's famous canals.

Dan looked around in amazement. "Whoa -- it's like the road is the water! And people drive boats instead of cars!"

Amy nodded. "Some Venetians hardly ever set foot on the street. They can get everywhere they need to go on the canals."

Their tourist moment was cut short when they heard the echo of a shoe on the metal ladder, and Jonah's voice called, "This way!"

They fled down a narrow walkway that joined their dock to another one.

"Whoa!" Dan pulled up short and just in time. The path ended abruptly. He had nearly

given himself -- and Nannerl Mozart's diary pages -- an unexpected bath in dirty canal

water.

"What are we going to do?" Amy squeaked.

They watched as a motor launch pulled alongside the small pier they were standing on and tied up to a pylon. A young woman jumped out and ran into the row house that abutted the dock. She was obviously on a quick errand because she left the keys in the ignition and the motor idling.

Amy took in the inspired look on her brother's face. "That's stealing!"

Dan was already stepping into the boat. "It's borrowing, and it's an emergency!" He

pulled his sister
aboard, steadying the two of them as the small craft pitched under their weight. "Hang on!" he ordered, and brought the throttle forward.

With a deafening roar, the launch churned about eighteen inches from the dock and lurched to a stop, unmuffled engine protesting.

"You forgot to untie the rope!" Amy stooped to release the mooring line, and they plowed into the narrow waterway.

Behind them, the fake manhole cover flipped open again, and out climbed Jonah, his father, and the man with the ponytail. They ran to another dock and jumped into a motorboat. Several Janus were hot on their heels. Two more craft took to the murky waters.

Dan accelerated, steering toward the closest thing the canal had to a passing lane. Slender gondolas bobbed like corks in their wake. Gondoliers shook their fists and cursed.

"Dan, this is crazy!" Amy quavered. "You can't drive a boat!" "Says who? It's no different from Xbox!"

Wham!

The port-side rubber bumper at the launch's bow slammed into the end of an ancient cobblestone wharf. The small craft spun like a top, pitching Amy to the deck. Only an iron grip on the wheel saved Dan from a similar spill.

He hung on for dear life. "Okay, scratch Xbox -- think bumper cars! I rock at those!

Remember the carnival?"

His sister was on her hands and knees, clinging to the gunwale.

"Forget
the carnival! Get us out of here!"

He followed her gaze. It was the Janus -- gaining on them. The Wizards were in the lead, weaving between slow-moving gondolas.

Dan took a tight corner too wide. With a crunch, the launch bounced off a moored skiff

and ricocheted into the middle of the canal.

Amy was terrified. "You're going to drown us both!"

"You want me to stop and give the Wizards a chance to do it?" he shot back.

Dead ahead, the passage split off in three directions. The leftmost path was skinny,

jagged, and inhospitable. Perhaps the Janus would avoid it.

Dan headed for it. "Am I ever glad those old-time Venice guys put in these canals!"

"I don't think anyone built the canals," Amy panted. "Venice is really a bunch of tiny
islands so close together that the space between them forms waterways."

"Yeah, well, they rule. I just wish this dumb boat would go faster."

Amy glanced nervously astern. "Maybe we've lost them."

Her brother was skeptical. "Not for long. Listen, if Jonah catches us, those diary pages had better not be here. We've got to ditch them."