The Devil in Music (71 page)

When
they got to the bottom, Carlo went to Nina and held one gun to her
temple, while with his other hand he drew a knife and cut the rope
that tied her wrists and Dipper's to the bracket. Their four wrists
remained bound together behind, their gags in place. "Now,"
said Carlo, "go ahead of me, all of you that way."

He
herded the three of them toward the blocked passage with the mirror
at the end. Dipper and Nina shuffled and stumbled, trying to walk
with their wrists linked behind. The four of them entered the
passage, and the light from Carlo's lantern danced in the mirror but
the mirror was in the wrong place. It was leaning against the side
of the passage, and the narrow wall at the end, where it had hung,
was not there at all. Carlo held his lantern aloft, and Julian saw
that the wall had risen up along grooves on either side, so that what
was once a wall was now an open doorway.

"So
that's what the chain is for," he said.

"Yes,"
said Carlo. "I call this wall the portcullis, because it can be
raised like the gate of a castle. You can see that it all but
disappears into the space between the ceiling of the passage and the
floor of the cave above. Unfortunately, there's no way to keep it
lifted except to

'
hold onto the winch handle. And as I don't want to tax Guido's

I
strength too long, you will oblige me by passing through."

Julian,
Dipper, and Nina walked under the portcullis into utter darkness.
Carlo stepped in after them, and his lantern burned away a little of
the gloom. Nina screamed and dropped to her knees, dragging Dipper
down with her. Julian gazed around him, somehow not at all surprised
to find that Carlo had thrust them into Hell.

It
was actually another grotto room about the size of the one they had
left. But instead of whimsical marine motifs, the walls were covered
with scenes of the punishment of sinners. Naked bodies plummeted
into fires, struggled on hooks, had their sides torn open by demons
and their living entrails dragged out. Angels looked down from above
and wrung their hands. Lightning gleams shot out from gilding and
fragments of mirror, giving a terrible life to the scene.

"Welcome
to the Day of Judgement," said Carlo, "the finest of
Achille's tricks. He would have the mirror removed and the
portcullis

raised,
so that the guests would walk innocently in here, thinking it was
merely another grotto. And while they were suffering agreeable
terrors at the sight that met their eyes, Achille would drop the
portcullis and trap them inside. All meant to be harmless fun, no
doubt, but I suspect that it led to someone's death, even if only by
mischance. That would explain the dark legends that cling to the
grottos. It would also account for why the existence of the
portcullis was hushed up. I learned of it from some obscure papers
that came to me when I purchased the villa. I experimented with the
mechanism and found that it still worked. But I kept it to myself
even after I sold the villa to Lodovico."

Julian
was only half listening. His eyes were on a dark shape on the floor
just inside the entrance. Carlo held his lantern toward it,
revealing a human form lying face down. Buff trousers and a brown
jacket pooled about its skeletal frame. One hand, coated with
shrivelled, blackened skin, was stretched out toward the portcullis.
Julian's heart twisted. Tonio.

He
said, "You might at least have killed him before you left him
here."

"He
didn't suffer long," Carlo shrugged. "Once the portcullis
is closed, there's no means for air to enter. I suppose that's why
he's so little decayed, even after four and a half years. Now then:
you will all be good enough to step back."

Carlo
advanced on them, both guns levelled, compelling them to back away
from the entrance. Julian thought of making a desperate rush at him.
But that would be suicide. Carlo's pistols were double barrelled he
could miss once and still have bullets enough for all three of them
before he would have to reload.

Having
driven them well away from the entrance, Carlo began backing toward
it. In a matter of moments, he would step out of the Day of
Judgement and give the signal, and Guido would drop the portcullis

"I'll
leave you the light, so that you can take proper leave of each
other." Carlo set the lantern down in the centre of the room.
"Goodbye, and God have mercy on your souls."

The
signal, thought Julian feverishly. What is the signal? It must be a
sound one high and penetrating enough to carry all the way from the
grottos up to the caves. There was only one sound he could think of.
He put his fingers to his lips and emitted a piercing whistle.

There
was a clatter of chains overhead. The portcullis dropped with

a
thundering crash. Carlo spun around, trying to get out before it
fell. In that moment, Julian rushed at him from behind and shoved
him against it.

The
shock sent one gun spinning from Carlo's hand to the floor.
Miraculously, it did not go off. Julian grasped the other gun by the
barrel, squeezing Carlo's wrist with his free hand, till he wrenched
the gun away. Carlo twisted free. The remaining gun lay almost at
his feet. He lunged at it.

Dipper
darted forward, jerking Nina after him, and kicked the gun across the
room. Carlo and Julian both dove for it. Julian reached it first.
He seized it, rolled over onto his back, and sat up, pointing both
guns at Carlo's heart. Carlo froze, then sank slowly back on his
haunches.

Julian
came to his feet. "Stand up," he said softly.

Carlo
rose.

"Take
out your knife," Julian went on in the same quiet, deliberate
voice, "and lay it on the floor, then back away from it."

Teeth
clenched, Carlo obeyed. Julian put one gun in his trouser pocket
long enough to pick up the knife and cut Dipper's and Nina's bonds.
They flexed their wrists, wincing, and took off their gags, taking in
great gulps of air. Nina hid her face in Dipper's shoulder, and he
put his arm around her waist.

Julian
gave Dipper one of the guns. "Now "

'"Master!"

-The
voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, filling the room.
Dipper and Nina stared around in bewilderment. Julian looked at
Carlo. He was gazing up at a point in the vaulted ceiling a few feet
above the portcullis. Julian took the lantern and held it up as high
as he could.

The
ceiling was covered with scenes from Revelation. The Four Horsemen
of the Apocalypse seemed to be galloping straight down into the room.
The Sons of God and the Daughters of Men twined their naked limbs in
savage embraces. Leviathan loomed up above the portcullis, its
-immense jaws open. Carlo was gazing directly into its mouth. ,
"Master!" the voice repeated.

"Guido!"
Carlo shouted. "Lift the portcullis!"

It
must be some sort of pipe, thought Julian, leading down from the
recess where the winch mechanism was to Leviathan's mouth.

"Master,
what are you doing in there?"

"There's
been a mishap. Let me out!"

"Why
did you give the signal while you were still inside the Day of
Judgement?"

"I
didn't. Signer Kestrel did."

"I
don't like this. Kill them, Master."

Carlo
stared helplessly at his former captives pointing his own guns at
him. "Guido, damn you, lift the portcullis!"

"Something's
gone wrong," said Guido.

"Be
calm," warned Julian in a low voice. "Tell him everything
is all right."

"Guido."
Carlo's voice sank to a growl in his effort to keep it level.
"There's nothing amiss. The Englishmen are dead."

"No."
Guido's disembodied voice dropped, as if he were speaking half to
himself. "I didn't hear any shots. Even without my ear to the
pipe, I would have heard that."

"Guido,
in the name of God " Carlo began.

A
low, singsong chant began to issue from Leviathan's mouth. They all
strained to make out the words.

"My
God," whispered Carlo. "The prayer for the dead."

Nina
shrieked.

"Guido,
you bastard!" Carlo shook his fist up at the ceiling. "You'll
pay for this! My sons will track you down! I swear to you, one way
or another I'll get out of here and kill you myself!"

It
all made inexorable sense, Julian thought. Guido must be finding it
altogether too perilous to be tied to Carlo, who had grown so
reckless lately, and who would surely bring Guido down with him if he
were caught. If Carlo were left here, everyone would assume he had
perished in the storm. Even if they suspected foul play, they would
not be able to bring it home to Guido. As Guido had said: It's hard
to prove a murder without a body.

Guido's
voice ceased. There was a faint creaking, followed by a distant
thump. Then silence.

"He's
pushed the back of the fountain into place," said Carlo. "We're
completely sealed off buried alive."

"No!"
Nina fell to her knees. "Blessed Madonna, have mercy on us!"

"If
you know any way out of here," Julian observed to Carlo, "this
would be an excellent time to mention it."

"There
is no way out," said Carlo hollowly.

Julian
went over to the portcullis and shone the lantern on it. Its

dark,
shining surface was almost like metal. He tapped on it, and it gave
out a dull thud. "Is it wood?"

"Seasoned
wood," said Carlo, "six inches thick. A dozen men couldn't
break it down."

"Most
Holy Madonna," Nina was praying frantically, "if you'll let
us out of here, I promise to wear blue for a year no, no, for the
rest of my life and to go to confession every day and give all my
money to the Church "

Julian
walked around the Day of Judgement, lantern in hand. It was oval,
about fifteen feet long and ten feet wide. The floor was paved with
marble, the walls and ceiling encrusted all over with ghastly mosaics
and paintings. He ran his fingers over the walls and tapped on them,
but could not find a chink or a hollow sound anywhere.

Nina's
prayers had given way to uncontrollable sobbing. Dipper coaxed her
up from her knees. "Don't take on. Why, Mr. Kestrel and me,
we been in worse scrapes than this, and we always done the trick in
the end."

Julian
could not think of a scrape that had been quite this dire, but he
kept that to himself, as he did the fact that there was barely an
inch of candle left in the lantern. He did not want to think what
this place would be like when the light was gone.

He
told Dipper and Nina how he had given Raversi's letter to the
boatman. "If he delivers it to the villa, they'll guess that
Carlo is behind our disappearance and send out search parties."

"They
won't know where to find us." Carlo seemed to take a perverse
satisfaction in the hopelessness of their plight. "Nobody
living knows about the portcullis and this room except Guido and
ourselves."

"You
said you experimented with the portcullis after you purchased the
villa," said Julian. "You must have had someone to help
you, if only to hold it open while you came in here. And I'll lay
any odds you found a use for the device before you sold the villa to
Lodovico. Didn't you tell me you were suspected of hiding arms from
the Austrians during the final days of the Kingdom of Italy?"

Carlo
smiled thinly. "You have a good memory, Mr. Kestrel. I did
Qonfide the secret to one person: my old gardener, Matteo Landi.
But, as you know, he's dead."

"He
may have told someone before he died."

"He
swore a holy oath never to breathe a word of it, and he was a
superstitious man. But never mind. Suppose someone can be found

who
knows the secret of the portcullis. And suppose the boatman actually
delivers Raversi's letter, instead of throwing it in the lake, as is
far more likely. That won't be of any consequence to us. Because by
the time they come to let us out, we'll have long since run out of
air."

It's
a quarter to ten!" Fletcher paced distractedly about the
terrace. "Grimani's had Lucia penned up in the billiard room
for more than two hours! What is he doing to her?"