The Adventures of Tintin (20 page)

BOOK: The Adventures of Tintin
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You take the high road and I’ll take the low road, and I’ll be in Scotland before youuuuu
. . .” Captain Haddock belted the song out as he moved the car toward the roof of a building across the railroad tracks from the dock, where Tintin waited with Thompson and Thomson.

Tintin almost had to laugh, listening. Something had changed in the captain since the performance of the Milanese Nightingale and the flood. He was once again the formidable sea dog all his forebears had been. Tintin was proud of him.

“Caught him like a rat in a trap,” Thompson said next to him.

“Congratulations, gentlemen,” Tintin said. “He’s all yours.”

“Yes! We have warrants issued by both Interpol and the FBI,” Thomson said.

“Your friend who got shot on your doorstep,” Thompson began.

“Barnaby!?” Tintin exclaimed.

“One of their agents,” Thompson admitted. “The FBI has been hot on Sakharine’s trail from the start.”

“It still doesn’t make any sense. He has the key to the treasure of the
Unicorn
, which is sitting somewhere on the ocean floor,” Tintin wondered. “Why would he come back home?”

Neither Thompson nor Thomson had an answer for this. All three of them watched as Captain Haddock, laughing uproariously at some private joke, set the car down on the roof near them. Thompson stepped forward and opened the back door. “Right,” he said. “Sakharine?”

The back of the car was empty.

All three of them crowded around the door in puzzlement. Then Sakharine shot up in the driver’s seat, a gun in his hand. “That’s
Mr
. Sakharine to you!” he said sharply, waving the gun to force them back.

They backed away. Tintin’s mind raced. Sakharine couldn’t imagine that he would escape even now, could he? He was stuck in a car on the end of a crane . . .

As he had the thought, the crane arm jerked wildly to the side and Sakharine’s car swung toward them like a million-dollar wrecking ball. Tintin and the two detectives dove out of the way. The car slammed into a wall beyond them and then swung back before returning in another sweeping arc. It was out of control! Tintin heard a gunshot. He scrambled to the edge of the roof and looked down toward the crane cab.

Just as he had suspected, Allan and Captain Haddock were wrestling in the cab, and their actions had caused the crane arm’s crazy swings. There was a bullet hole in one of the cab’s windows. As Tintin watched, Haddock tumbled out of the cab and dangled from a railing at the edge. Allan got the crane under control and brought Sakharine’s car smoothly off the roof.

But Captain Haddock wasn’t done yet! He fought his way back into the cab and threw Allan out the other side. The thug fell into the bed of a passing truck, which screeched to a halt as its driver tried to figure out what had happened.

Sakharine’s car had now swung across the tracks. As it came back, Sakharine flung open the car door and leaped over to another crane. He scrambled inside the cab, and the second crane’s arm began to rise and angle toward Haddock’s crane. It was like a sword fight, Tintin saw, only with ten-ton crane arms. The cranes collided with a deafening crash. Both operators, Sakharine and Captain Haddock, jostled and banged around inside their respective cabs. Sakharine’s crane picked up a pallet of cement bags and threw them at Captain Haddock’s cab. The impact swallowed Captain Haddock’s cab in a cloud of cement dust. Snowy barked in frustration.

Captain Haddock kicked torn bags of cement out of his cab, frantically trying to clear his windshield. Sakharine struck again and Captain Haddock parried. The arm of Sakharine’s crane smashed through Captain Haddock’s windshield. Captain Haddock hauled his crane arm up and to the side, tearing away the roof of Sakharine’s cab.

His hair and beard flying as the cranes creaked and swayed on their scaffolds, Sakharine flung a pallet of the
Karaboudjan
’s cargo at the struts supporting Captain Haddock’s crane. The boxes flew through the air, crashing and bouncing across the roof of the nearby building as Tintin, Snowy, and the detectives dodged and dived out of the way.

The fight went on between the cranes, which were battering each other to pieces. But now Sakharine’s goons were on the roof, too. Tom was the first to appear, brandishing his gun, but three flying tires landed on him, pinning him to his spot. As more thugs raced to aid him, Snowy tugged a plank free from a crate of canned goods. The cans rolled out across the rooftop, tripping up the thugs and rattling among them as they fell.

The two cranes had now smashed in close to each other, their motors grinding as both Sakharine and Captain Haddock fought for leverage. “Red Rackham!” Captain Haddock growled.

“My ancestor,” acknowledged Sakharine. “Just as Sir Francis was yours.”

Captain Haddock forced his crane another inch forward. “Unfinished business,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m glad you know the truth, Haddock,” Sakharine said. “Until you could remember, killing you would not have been nearly this much fun!”

As he spoke, Sakharine pulled his crane backward, swinging its arm at the same time. The arm crashed into Captain Haddock’s crane and knocked it over sideways. It toppled slowly, crashing onto the deck of the
Karaboudjan
. Cement dust drifted over the deck, reminding Tintin of the smoke from gunpowder and broken lanterns. Captain Haddock scrambled free of the wreckage.

Cool and calm, Sakharine lowered his crane arm to the deck and then walked down it as Captain Haddock caught his breath. “Who gave you permission to board my ship?” Captain Haddock said.

Sakharine grinned wickedly. “I don’t need it,” he said, whipping out his sword cane. “I never needed it.”

Captain Haddock grabbed a broken control lever from the crane cab. Sakharine lunged, and the battle was joined in hand-to-hand combat. They fought as only ancient enemies can fight, but Captain Haddock fought fair, and this was his undoing. Sakharine deflected one of his attacks and kicked his legs out from under him. As Captain Haddock struggled back to his feet, Sakharine flung a fishnet over him, then ripped it away, sending Captain Haddock spinning across the deck and crashing into a crate that had fallen from one of the cranes.

On his hands and knees, Captain Haddock saw a bottle of whiskey roll across the deck in front of him. He looked up. Sakharine was walking away.

Oh, no, you don’t
, thought Captain Haddock.
Not just yet
.

Tintin cheered and Snowy barked from the rooftop as Captain Haddock bombarded Sakharine with bottles. Some of them broke on the deck around him. Others hit Sakharine’s body, making him stagger. Sakharine ducked for cover and fell from the main deck onto a lower platform at the side of the ship—not far from where Tintin had made his daring climb from porthole to porthole when the
Karaboudjan
was on the high seas.

Captain Haddock came to the railing, one bottle held in his hand, ready to end things once and for all.

But Sakharine rolled over and came to his feet with the scrolls in one hand . . . and a lighter in the other!

“The legend says only a Haddock can discover the secret of the
Unicorn
,” sneered Sakharine. “But it took a Rackham to get the job done! You’ve lost again, Haddock. Why don’t you have a drink? That’s all you’ve got left. Everything that was yours is now mine. Including this ship!”

Captain Haddock saw red. He leaped over the railing, plummeting toward the platform where Sakharine stood—and at the same time Tintin swung in on one of the crane cables and snatched the scrolls from Sakharine’s hand. “Thundering typhoons!” Captain Haddock roared. He punched Sakharine so hard that the master thief did a backward somersault down into the water.

“Nobody takes my ship!” Captain Haddock yelled after him, throwing the last bottle. It hit Sakharine squarely on top of the head.

Tintin had landed on one of the upper railings along the side of the
Karaboudjan
’s superstructure. Captain Haddock looked up and they locked eyes. They both nodded.

It took only a few moments for Thompson and Thomson to commandeer a local police boat and pull the battered Sakharine out of the water. “We have you now, you devil!” Thompson said. “You are under arrest.”

“To be precise,” Thomson corrected him, “you are under arrest.”

Sakharine looked from one to the other as if he wasn’t quite certain that he had heard them correctly. Finally, he raised his hands in defeat.

The sun was just coming up. It was a new day.

Tintin and Captain Haddock watched the police boat motor away with the resigned and drenched Sakharine handcuffed on its deck. What a story this was going to be! Tintin thought. And it just kept getting better and better.

He looked out over the harbor at the sun, which had risen high enough for his purposes.

“Captain,” he said. Haddock looked over, squinting against the sunlight. Tintin held up the scrolls, overlapping the edges so the sun shone through all three at once. Captain Haddock shifted so the light wasn’t directly in his eyes, and the two of them looked closely at the scrolls. Tintin heard Snowy’s nails clicking up the gangway. Everyone was present for this final revelation.

“Do you see?” Tintin said. He pointed to a row of numbers and letters along the bottom of all three scrolls.

“Blistering barnacles!” cried Captain Haddock. “They’re coordinates!”

Nodding, Tintin said, “It took all three scrolls to form the numbers.”

Captain Haddock’s finger traced the symbols. “Latitude and longitude . . .” he murmured. “That’s it! That’s the location of the treasure.”

He caught Tintin’s hand, and the two of them danced around the deck laughing like maniacs. “We did it!” they shouted, over and over. Snowy danced around with them, barking with joy.

They wasted no time getting a jeep and heading out of town and into the countryside, with Captain Haddock peering through a sextant as though they were navigating on the high seas. “Almost there, Mr. Tintin,” he said, standing on the passenger seat as the wind blasted through his beard. “A nudge to starboard should do it.”

“Are you sure we’re on course?” Tintin asked. They bounced down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere.

“Aye, trust me, laddie,” Captain Haddock said. “I know these parts like the back of my hand.”

Tintin looked around. He wasn’t sure, but he thought Captain Haddock might have been bluffing, just a little.

“Starboard! Quickly!” Captain Haddock cried, still peering through the sextant.

“Aye, Captain, starboard it is!” Tintin said, turning the jeep sharply to the right. They went off the road immediately and crashed through a line of hedges before bouncing across a meadow and jolting up onto the driveway of Marlinspike Hall!

“Full stop!” yelled Captain Haddock as the jeep’s front tires banged into Marlinspike Hall’s front steps.

Tintin turned off the engine, and they both looked up, not quite believing what they were seeing. “Marlinspike Hall,” Captain Haddock breathed.

“Those coordinates led here. This is where Sir Francis hid it?” Tintin was confused. He ran through everything they had learned. What had he missed? “I thought the treasure went down with the ship.”

The door opened and Nestor appeared. “Master Haddock,” he said. “Master Tintin. I’ve been expecting you.”

Captain Haddock and Tintin looked at each other. Things were getting stranger by the minute. But they got out of the jeep and walked up to the door, Snowy trotting along just behind.

“Welcome to Marlinspike Hall,” Nestor said as they entered.

“Would you look at this place!” Captain Haddock exulted. “I don’t think it’s changed at all since I was a wee boy.”

“And may I say, sir, how much I am looking forward to having a Haddock back in charge of the estate.” Nestor bowed.

“You’ll be waiting a long time, Nestor,” Captain Haddock said wistfully. “There’s no way I could afford to live here.”

For a moment they stood in the grand foyer looking around. Tintin had only been inside at night, and had been woozy from Nestor rapping him over the head with a candlestick, so he saw it as if for the first time. It was easy to see how magnificent Marlinspike Hall had once been. The floor was polished marble and the main entry stairway rails were hand-carved. Tapestries and paintings that must have been priceless decorated the walls—including, Tintin saw, a portrait of Sir Francis himself hanging in a sitting room visible from just inside the front door. Other arched doorways opened into dim rooms decorated in the understated style of old money. All Marlinspike Hall needed, Tintin thought, was someone living there who cared about its history. Perhaps Captain Haddock would be that person . . . if they could find the treasure.

That thought brought Tintin back to the present, and to the story! Where was the treasure? Which way should they explore first? There were more stairways and corridors leading away than they could explore in a week. “Well, Captain, you know the house,” Tintin said. “Where do we start?”

The guard dog that had chased Tintin all over the grounds on his last visit trotted out of an interior room and woofed, wagging the stub of its tail. Snowy trotted up to it, and they circled and sniffed. Captain Haddock squinted as if his memories of Marlinspike Hall were faint and hard to read. Then he turned to Nestor. “Is the cellar still here?”

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