Rook (34 page)

The noise of the bells faded, and Madame Hasard lowered her hand. Spear and René were staring at each other from opposing chairs, René’s hair dark with wet, the powder nearly gone, hands on his head as if the noise of the bells had been physically painful. Madame Hasard crossed her legs on the edge of the bed, a sword in her hand. A semicircle of Hasards and Benoit stood in a ring that blocked escape. Benoit was deep in thought, his forehead wrinkled.

“Now, Monsieurs,” said Madame Hasard. “The rules of armistice are as follows. Neither of you shall speak unless spoken to by me. That is the only rule.”

“Maman, those bells were … Ow!”

Madame Hasard resettled the sword in her lap, having whacked René in the leg with the flat of it. “Now that we have an understanding. Monsieur Hammond, are you working for the weasel-ferret creature known as Albert LeBlanc?”

Spear eyed the sword. “No. But he thinks I am.”

She turned to René, who was rubbing his leg and glaring at Spear. “And you, are you working with the weasel-ferret creature known as Albert LeBlanc?”

“No!” Madame gave René a raised brow. “He thought I was, of course, but he does not think so now.”

Spear made his disbelief clear, René leaned forward, and Madame raised the sword. René threw up his hands. “Listen to me, both of you! And do not hit me with that sword, Maman! I am going to talk and you are going to listen because there is no time.”

“Permission to speak is granted,” said Madame.

“I will speak slowly, Hammond, so that my words may penetrate your thick skull. I have never betrayed Sophia Bellamy or her brother to LeBlanc. Someone has. But it is not me. And I am not the one who will get her killed tonight …”

“And you think I will!” Spear yelled, looking at the ring of uncles. “When you’re the ones keeping me here, not letting me get her out of the city as we’d planned!”

“You do not have the first idea what Sophia had planned,” said René. “She was not going to the Tombs only for Jennifer and Tom. She is emptying the prison. All of it.”

“What?” This had come from Andre.

René held up his hand. “LeBlanc was to put two out of three to the Razor at dawn. So she will empty every hole. Then, she is going to set the firelighter you made and use it to ignite the Bellamy fire she has been having delivered and stored in the prison. The Tombs are going to explode.”

Madame sat back, her eyebrow incredulous, and there was some shuffling of feet among the uncles.

“She can do it,” René said, looking at them hard.

“Yes,” said Benoit. “She can.” That made them go quiet.

“Oh, she can do it,” Spear agreed. “Whether she was planning to or not …”

“She was. And she is.”

“René,” said Madame, her painted mouth turning upward in the same half grin as her son’s. “Tell me, did I engage you to the Red Rook?”

René ignored her. “Listen carefully, Hammond. This was going to be a dangerous business. She was going to stay in the Tombs and play cat and mouse with LeBlanc until the mob dispersed and she could set the firelighter. It would have been a miracle if she was not caught. But I convinced her to let me go, to let me set the firelighter once the chase was on in the Upper City, while she was asleep in her bed and with no one aware that she had left the flat at all. But you have just told her I sent the Bonnards to their deaths. That I am the ‘con man’ she once accused me of being. That I have lied and taken advantage of her in every way. And now she has taken the firelighter with her, Hammond. She wants the Tombs destroyed and she wants to take down LeBlanc.”

The room was silent.

“When Tom Bellamy told you to acquire that document, you thought it was going to have my signature, did you not? Or one of my family’s? I took the original out of your pocket. But when it did not, you had a forgery made. You thought you were doing what Tom would want, protecting her from me. You think you still are. But now she has taken the firelighter and gone on her own. She is hurt, and reckless. I do not think she will be coming out of the prison with the others. And now the execution bells have rung, Hammond.”

Spear shook his head, running his hands through hair that was usually so perfectly in place. “I don’t believe you. Only that sounds so much like Sophie that I almost do.”

“But that is not all. Enzo has seen LeBlanc tell his secretary that Sophia is the Red Rook. He knows she is coming …”

“Because you told him!” Spear yelled.

“I told LeBlanc nothing!” René’s voice dropped low. “Are you certain that you did not? Because she rejected you?”

Madame Hasard’s warning went unheard because Spear’s chair had pushed back, René already on his feet. Then there was a knock at the door. Benoit answered and Enzo appeared.

“What is happening?” Enzo said, running an eye over René’s wet shirt and the fight that was about to erupt. “You are all doing something strange every time I enter. Whatever it is, put it aside. LeBlanc is drugged, but not drugged enough. He does not seem to prefer our wine.”

“Then give him one he does prefer,” said Madame Hasard reasonably.

“And Émile needs you, Andre,” Enzo went on. “He wants you to steal LeBlanc’s pendant, I have no idea why, and he wants to tell you all that Tom Bellamy does not die at dawn. He dies at highmoon.”

Claude dropped his gaze from the middlemoon, stroking his tiny mustache. The Seine Gate had opened and he was making his way up the cliff road and out of the Lower City with a seething, raucous mass of humanity, his gendarme’s jacket stuffed into his bag. It did not do to wander about in uniform on your own. Especially in this crowd. But he could not get the sound of the execution bells out of his head. He stopped, letting the people roll by him.

LeBlanc always allowed the gendarmes to come to the executions, even if they were on duty, as long as a replacement could be found. But today he had been sent away. And he’d seen other guards going as well, running off to the wine and women of La Toussaint. Or the Festival of Fate, whatever they were calling it now. Then he thought of Gerard, standing behind his desk with his bandaged finger, sweating face, and that nervous tic.

Claude turned and pushed his way back down the clogged cliff road, alongside some others who had changed direction at the call of the bells. A row of landovers with the Allemande seal were coming fast through the gate, down into the Lower City. He followed them, found a clear path, and broke into a run to the Tombs.

T
he
twins carried an insensible Jennifer quickly past Gerard’s closed office, past the lift and to the prison yard door.

“Are the landovers arriving?” Sophia asked.

“Not yet, but they will be here soon because …”

“… the Seine Gate has just been opened.”

“Do you know how many?”

“No.”

“The boy knows.”

They meant Cartier. She had no idea who was speaking anymore. The twins seemed to share most thoughts, and divide up the duty of conveying them. She peeked out the doors into an empty prison yard that, thanks to the execution bells, would not be empty for much longer. She wondered if those bells were for Tom, or Jennifer, or for her. “How many prisoners do we have?”

“The boy has counted two hundred and fifty-eight.”

She glanced at Jennifer’s lolling head. Perhaps it was no wonder there were only two hundred and fifty-eight left.

“Do either of you know where Tom Bellamy is?”

“Wasn’t he down there?”

“Those cells were empty. Where is Gerard?”

“Shaking like a leaf in his office. He thinks you’re going to …”

“… pop up out of nowhere and cut his throat.”

“Right. The yard looks clear. Hurry and get her to the warehouse and see if anyone there has any medical training. I’ll be coming with Tom Bellamy. Tom and Jennifer get into a landover first, or if Tom’s not there … They must get away first, and Gerard gets on the last. The very last. And then you need to disappear, everyone gone well before highmoon. Do you understand?”

“And you?”

She wondered where Cartier had found these two, what they were doing in such a horrible place as the Tombs, and how they had ever gotten drawn into the machinations of the Red Rook. “I’ll come soon.”

And Cartier would know what to do if she didn’t. She refused to consider what would happen if Spear did not get out of the flat with the passes. With any luck they would be out of the city and on their way to the coast by nethermoon.

Or maybe luck served only LeBlanc tonight.

LeBlanc swayed just slightly on the settee, trying to explain the workings of Luck. Émile grinned, enjoying himself while Renaud wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“But have you no faith, Cousin Albert?” Émile said, tossing a coin up and down in one hand. It landed on face every time. “Show me how your Goddess works. I want to see it with my own eyes.” He watched Andre and Peter slip in, skirting around the violinists.

“Fate,” said LeBlanc, his voice thick, “is not … a game. They began it when … the machines fell … out of the sky. The survivors … they knew when the satellites fell … that only Fate was in control. Not a game.”

“I am not playing a game, Albert. I am learning about your Goddess. She is real, isn’t she?”

LeBlanc stretched out a hand and took the coin. Peter was not far away, his arm around the woman with the turban, and Andre had just picked up a glass from a tray.

“The tradition of the Goddess states that when … when using the coin the … facade …” He turned the coin over, to show the facade of the premier’s building. “… means … no. Face means … is …” LeBlanc held the coin between his palms without finishing his sentence, fingers lifted to rest just below his odd eyes. Émile leaned in, Renaud watching closely, Peter and the woman with the turban laughing as they danced. Andre had moved behind LeBlanc, bending to observe the proceedings.

“Goddess, does … does …”

“Émile,” Émile supplied.

“Does Émile … truly … want to learn of you?”

LeBlanc flipped the coin into the air, and at the same time Peter and the woman with the turban bumped into Andre, knocking him into LeBlanc, then spinning into Renaud, spilling a goblet of wine between them. LeBlanc caught himself on the tabletop as the coin hit the glass and rolled, settling with a clink that was almost unheard in the aftermath.

“Oh, I am sorry, Albert, let me fetch a man to clean you up …”

LeBlanc looked around to see Peter brushing the red liquid from Renaud’s front, and with a smooth, unseen movement, Émile flipped the coin to face. LeBlanc turned back to check the will of Fate, his face lighting up at the sight of “yes.” He didn’t seem to be aware that the pendant with its hidden clock was no longer around his neck.

Sophia slipped the sword up to Gerard’s neck without him realizing she was there. He’d had his back turned, examining the window, but he went still at the chill of steel. Gerard sighed, and slowly raised his hands.

“Who will die at highmoon?” She didn’t even bother with the gruff voice of the holy man. There was no time.

“Tomas … Bellamy. And the Bonnard girl.”

Sophia tried to breathe through her anger. “And where is Tom Bellamy?”

“I do not know!” Gerard sounded frightened now. He probably thought she was about to run him through, now that his usefulness was expiring. “When I came to the Tombs … he was not in his cell.”

“Then think, Gerard. Where would LeBlanc take a prisoner he didn’t want the Red Rook to find?”

“I do not know!”

“Listen to me,” Sophia said. “I do not want to hurt you. I will if I have to, but I don’t want to. Your wife is waiting for you, and you’re about to be gone from this place. Help me. Where does LeBlanc go when he comes to the prison? What does he do?”

The firelight was almost gone, the room smoky and dim. Sophia glanced out the window. Well past middlemoon. She poked Gerard just a tiny bit with the sword.

“There is one thing,” he said. “But I do not think … I do not know if …”

“Tell me.”

“The lift,” Gerard whispered.

“Tell me!” Sophia prodded.

“Sometimes the lift comes down from LeBlanc’s office. But then … there is no one on it.”

She stood still for a moment, thinking. She’d set the firelighter for highmoon, and now LeBlanc had set an execution for that time. That meant there would be people gathering in the prison yard. Would René, or someone else, be coming to find the firelighter and turn it off? If she reset it for a later time, did it just give them more of an opportunity to make sure it did not go off at all? But it was a long way down to the storage hole, and she had to find Tom.

Gerard whimpered beneath her sword.

“Quiet, Gerard,” she ordered. “I have to think.”

“Quiet,” said Benoit, and the arguing in the gold bedroom instantly ceased. Even Spear fell silent, though mostly from surprise. Benoit sat on the edge of the bed.

“You are fighting over what you should do, when you have not considered what the Red Rook is going to do. These are the things we know. We know that she is not going to follow the plan she told Hammond, because she is not going to give up freeing LeBlanc’s prisoners, correct? And she is not going to follow the plan she told René, because she believes René has betrayed her and told all to LeBlanc.”

René and Spear exchanged dirty looks.

“But because she thinks this, she will also know that LeBlanc knows her identity, even if her reason is false. She will not be walking into the Tombs blind.”

“That is true,” René said slowly.

“So,” said Benoit, a mere shadow of a person next to the larger-than-life Madame, “other than emptying the Tombs, what is the one thing we know that Sophia Bellamy is going to do?”

“She is going to set that firelighter,” said Madame Hasard.

“Yes,” said Spear, “I think you’re right.”

“I told you this was a decent young man, René,” said Madame, making Enzo chuckle.

“She told me to set it for dawn,” said René thoughtfully, “but she will not do that now …” He was on his feet, pacing like a wild dog in a cage.

“So she will have set it for highmoon,” said Enzo, “to keep you from unsetting it. It would have been the only safe time. Unless she heard the execution bells first.”

“No,” Spear said. “She’ll know the prison yard will be full at highmoon. If she set it for that time, she’ll turn it off.”

“Unless she is already gone,” said René. Spear turned to face him.

“Or maybe she never got to set it in the first place.”

“Or perhaps she did, and can’t turn it off because she is caught,” said Madame. There was a small silence in the bedroom. If that was so, then Sophia was going to die.

René looked to Benoit. “So I will go and make certain she is away, and turn off the firelighter, if it is set at all. She will think it a betrayal again, that I am preserving LeBlanc and his prison. But she will not forgive herself if the people in the prison yard …”

“No,” said Spear. “I built the firelighter. I should go.”

René’s grin was not a look of humor. “Oh, no, you should not.”

“You’re going to stop me?”

“I know where the Bellamy fire is.”

“You will tell me where it is, then,” Spear said, eyes narrowed.

“No, I will not.”

“I promised Tom …”

“I care nothing for what you promised her brother! I will honor my promise to her.”

Benoit cleared his throat. “Take Hammond with you, René.”

“No!” they both yelled.

“And which of you is willing to stay behind?” asked Madame Hasard. There was no reply. “Then I have made my point.”

“Maman!” René yelled at the same time that Enzo said, “Well, I’m not going …”

“Enough,” said Benoit. “Your mother is right, René. It is foolish to go alone when you do not know what you will face. Have you forgotten that the gate has opened? The mob is coming.”

“The passes,” Spear said suddenly. “They won’t get out of the gates …”

“Are we not in a flat full of smugglers, Monsieur?” Madame Hasard leaned back on one arm. “We will get the passes to the gates.” Spear looked around the room, dubious.

“I do not think he trusts us,” said Enzo cheerfully. “And if you want to say something, Hammond, say it aloud.”

Spear opened his mouth to say something very aloud, but Benoit held up a hand.

“Hammond, set your grievances aside. There is no one in this family who would wish to see LeBlanc or Allemande win this round. We would prefer they did not live through the night. Can you believe that?”

Spear hesitated, then he nodded once.

“Then we will keep LeBlanc here as long as possible. Andre has stolen his pendant clock to set back the time, and Émile is attempting to drug him again. It was difficult to know how much of the powder in Mademoiselle Bellamy’s ring was appropriate. If we would not have all of Allemande’s troops come down on our heads, I would make sure it was poison.”