The Empress's Tomb (34 page)

•     •     •

Past the gallery that showcased the Empress's miniature kingdom, we entered the room with the army of clay servants. For the first time I noticed that each face was unique, as if the figures had all been modeled after real people.

“Interesting,” Kiki murmured with her nose almost pressed against the glass. “The statue in the Shadow City—the one Yu found on the boat. It must have been one of the Empress's servants.”

“It couldn't have,” I whispered. “Lester Liu said that the contents of the tomb were brought to New York in the 1940s.”

“There are a couple of problems with your analysis. Let's start with
Lester Liu said
…”

“You mean the Empress wasn't one of Cecelia Varney's treasures?”

“No. She must have come over on the boat with Yu and Siu Fah. Everything here was smuggled out of China this year.”

“Time to move on,” Luz warned us just as the museum's director entered the room with Lester Liu.

We plunged deeper and deeper into the Empress's tomb, past the embroidered silk wardrobe she was to take to the afterlife and the four interlocking coffins made of stone and lacquer, which had once held her mummy. Finally we entered a cavernous room with dozens of dinner tables circling the perimeter. A podium and a microphone stood at one end. People were starting to gather for dinner, and most seemed far more fascinated by the seating arrangements than they were by the glass coffin at the heart of the room. Only three people were examining the jade-clad mummy. One was Iris McLeod, dressed in a frilly purple dress that made her look like a gigantic grape. As we approached the Empress, the odor of armpit grew overpowering.

“Did you see that?” A man who'd been standing near Iris jumped back from the coffin.

“See
what,
George?” The woman beside him sounded annoyed.

“The mummy just twitched!”

The woman looked around to see who had heard him. “No more wine for you!” she answered in an angry whisper. “Remember what happened at the last gala? That statue you decided to take for a twirl was priceless. I'm surprised they let us in the door this time.”

“I know what I saw, Jocelyn. That mummy
moved!
Did you see it?” the man inquired of Iris. Before she
could respond, his wife grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the Empress.

“You scared that little girl!” she scolded. “The poor thing will probably have nightmares for months!”

“I think you're overreacting, dear. She seemed quite mature to me.”

“What's she doing here anyway?” the woman continued. “It's getting so that you can't go anywhere in this city without being harassed by oddly dressed children.”

“Iris!” DeeDee whispered, tapping the girl on the shoulder.

“There you are!” Iris seemed overjoyed to see us. “Where have you guys been? There are missing-person posters with Ananka's picture all over Greenwich Village, and when I stopped by Oona's house, that weird butler wouldn't let me see her. I thought something bad must have happened. I figured if I didn't find you here, I'd call the police when I got home.”

“We got tied up for a little while. I'll tell you all about it later. How did you get in?” I asked.

“My parents are consultants for the museum. They're always invited to these things.” She tilted her head toward a scholarly looking pair seated at a table near the entrance. “I talked them into bringing me this time.”

“Smells like you had to use a whole bottle of Fille Fiable,” said Kiki.

“Half. The other half is hidden in my tights. By the way, where's Oona? I've got to thank her.”

“Thank her for what?” Luz asked.

“A few days ago, somebody sent me three new lab coats and a huge chemistry set. I tracked down the store
they came from and used my perfume to make the owner tell me who bought them. Turns out it was Oona. She must have spent a fortune. So where is she?”

Kiki's eyes glanced down at the mummy and then back up at Iris.

“No!” Iris gasped. “Is she okay?”

“We'll know in the next few minutes,” Kiki told her.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Just enjoy the show,” I said. “We've got it all under control.”

“Are you sure?” Iris sighed with disappointment. “I wore this stupid dress just in case you needed me.”

“You know, ladies, it wouldn't hurt to have a backup plan,” Kiki conceded. “Keep your eyes on me, Iris. If anything goes wrong, I'll give you a signal. Run out to the park and look for Kaspar—he's a tall boy with red hair. He'll know what to do.”

“Great!” Iris chirped. “I promise I won't let you down.”

•     •     •

When most of the guests were finally seated, the museum's director stepped up to the podium. The five Irregulars were stationed in the corners of the room, far beyond the light of the lamps that glowed in the center of each table. I tucked myself into the corner farthest away from Principal Wickham, who was dining with the artist I'd seen in the photo on the wall of her office.

“Good evening.” Mr. Hunt surveyed the crowd of beautiful people. “Welcome to the opening of
The Empress Awakens.
You have been the first to see some of the most remarkable Chinese treasures ever gathered in the
Western Hemisphere. It gives me great pleasure to introduce the man whose unparalleled generosity has made this exhibition possible. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. Lester Liu.”

Thunderous applause filled the room as Lester Liu took the stage. It was Oona's cue, but nothing happened. The body beneath the mummy's jade shroud didn't budge. As my anticipation turned to terror, I tried to signal Kiki, only to find her head turned in Iris's direction. She nodded once, and Iris excused herself from the table and made her way to the door. I had to appreciate Iris's acting. Even from a distance, her body language screamed bathroom emergency.

Lester Liu's voice was still raspy and hoarse, but he basked in the admiration of the crowd. “Thank you, Mr. Hunt. I am not a man of many words, but I am pleased to offer the Traitor Empress to the city that has given me so much over the years. Now that I have retired, I intend to dedicate my days to making more gifts of this sort. Assisting me in my philanthropic endeavors will be my beloved only child. She has spent the past five years at school in Switzerland, but she has kindly agreed to return to New York to help her father. I would like to take this opportunity to introduce Miss Lillian Liu.”

A stunning girl in a black dress joined Lester Liu at the podium. She couldn't have been more than fifteen years old, and from where I stood, her resemblance to Oona was uncanny. Without thinking, I lurched forward for a better look. As I did, I felt several pins pop, and I grabbed the top of my dress before it could slide to the floor.

“Teeheehee.” I looked over to see the blond actress pointing at me from a nearby table. I ducked back into the shadows, but not before Lester Liu's eyes had darted in my direction.

“Thank you very much,” he croaked into the microphone. “I hope you enjoy the festivities.” As the guests clapped, Lester Liu ushered the girl he'd called Lillian to an exit and motioned to a security guard. Scanning the room, he identified each of the Irregulars. The guard pulled out his walkie-talkie, and soon five burly, uniformed men were cautiously weaving among the tables toward each of us, trying not to upset the diners. I sniffed my wrist. The smell of Fille Fiable was growing weaker, and I hoped there was still enough to save me. I searched for the escape route that I should have identified earlier. Both exits were blocked by security.

“Will you come with me, miss?” It wasn't a question. The guard grabbed me by the arm and his meaty fingers dug into my flesh. I started to struggle. If the Irregulars were kicked out of the party, there would be no one left to save Oona.

A bloodcurdling scream rang through the room, and I felt the guard's grip loosen. When several more screams joined the chorus, I managed to break free. At first, I couldn't tell what was happening. Food was flying, crystal was shattering, and an old man fell into a faint. I was starting to wonder if the museum possessed a poltergeist of its own when a giant squirrel leaped onto the table in front of me. It snatched a toupee from the scalp of an aging movie star and knocked a bottle of red wine into the lap of the blond celebrity. Elsewhere, the squirrel's
two friends were also gleefully working the room. The guard who had come to escort me out of the building ripped the cloth off a table and tried to fashion a squirrel net.

I spotted Kiki in the middle of all the excitement with a chair raised above her head. With one swift movement, she brought it down on the coffin. The glass rained down on the jade-covered figure inside. For a moment, the pandemonium paused and time stood still. Then people began to rush for the exits, only to find them barricaded from the outside. Iris and Kaspar had secured the room. No one was leaving till the excitement was over.

“What's she doing!” someone shouted as Kiki tore the shroud off Oona's body, exposing a thin figure wrapped tightly with strips of blue-striped fabric. The room grew silent. Even the most dim-witted celebrities at the gala understood that ancient Chinese mummies don't come wrapped in twenty-first-century sheets.

“Thanks,” Oona said when Kiki removed the gag that had been stuffed in her mouth. “I could really use some water.”

“Don't let him leave!” I shouted, pointing to Lester Liu, who was skulking toward an exit. “And watch out for his cane!”

The museum's director, a Broadway actress, and the CEO of a computer company stopped Oona's father at the door. Socialite Gwendolyn Gluck snuck up behind Lester Liu and grabbed his cane just as he tried to remove the dagger concealed within it. Once his escape had been thwarted, I pushed through the crowd to Kiki's side and found her fumbling with Oona's restraints.

“Looks like the girl's tied down to the base of the coffin,” noted an onlooker. The entire room had gathered round to witness the excitement.

“This really is the event of the season!” someone exclaimed.

“Pass the little pale girl a knife,” someone else demanded. Kiki cut Oona free with a steak knife. Beneath the strips of fabric, Oona was barefoot and wearing a sleeveless white nightgown. Her skin was covered in red welts from the wrapping. She grabbed a bottle of water off a table and gulped it down. Then the crowd parted as Oona made her way to the podium to address the audience.

“I think that's the girl who does my nails,” a woman whispered. “What's she going to say? She doesn't speak any English.”

I couldn't have felt prouder as I watched Oona take the microphone. The same girl who once would never have left the house without her diamonds and designer handbag was standing in front of New York's most fashionable crowd wearing only her nightie.

“Hello, everyone. I'm really tired, so I'll make this short. My name is Oona, and Lester Liu is my father. Fourteen years ago, he abandoned me because I wasn't a boy, and tonight he tried to kill me because I know the truth. Everything you've seen in this exhibit was illegally smuggled out of China earlier this year. You see, that's what my father does. He smuggles artifacts, he smuggles people—he even smuggles endangered species.

“Lester Liu is no philanthropist. He offered these
items to the museum for one reason only. He needed access to the galleries in order to steal five priceless paintings, which he had promised to a perverted Russian gangster. The paintings were cut from their frames and smuggled out of the building while the Empress's exhibit was being designed. They were replaced with forgeries created by twelve young artists who he had kidnapped from their homes in Taiwan. He got their names from a pair of New York psychologists and an Asian expert on gifted children. The original artworks are hidden in that man's apartment.” All eyes focused on Dr. Jennings, the assistant curator I'd met during my last visit to the museum. The birdlike man instantly broke down in tears. “Now,” Oona continued, “I assume the police have been called. I'm willing to answer any questions they might have.”

As soon as Oona's speech was over, cell phones were whipped out of purses and pockets, and the flash of cameras lit the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Kiki slinking toward an exit. I caught up to her just as she rapped at the door.

“I'm coming with you,” I told her. “I'm not ready to go home yet.”

“Hey Iris, you can open up,” Kiki called through the door.

“Did everything go okay?” Iris's purple dress was ripped and covered in grass stains.

“Thanks to you,” I said. “You're getting pretty good at saving our butts.”

“Somebody's got to.” Iris beamed.

“Listen, I shouldn't be here when the police come,” Kiki told her. “Tell Kaspar and the other girls to meet us at Fat Frankie's at nine o'clock.”

Kiki and I were halfway down the jade-green carpet when I heard someone calling out to me.

“Oh, Miss Fishbein.” I felt my heart stop. “Don't tell me you were going to leave without saying hello to me.”

“Hello, Principal Wickham,” I muttered as I turned around.

The principal walked up to Kiki and held out her hand.

“Miss Strike. It's nice to see you again. It looks as if you turned out to be dangerous after all.”

“You remember.” Kiki was impressed.

“I would never forget a student,” said Principal Wickham. “Particularly one with such unusual ambitions. Now, Ananka, I imagine this incident tonight has something to do with your disappearance yesterday morning?”

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I nodded.

“That girl on the stage is a friend of yours, isn't she?” I nodded again.

“Well, then, given that you just helped foil a major art heist, I think we can excuse your absence from school. I'll see you bright and early Monday morning. Mr. Dedly is eager to discuss your discovery. But now, I suggest you hurry up and run home. Your parents have half the police department searching Manhattan for you.”