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Authors: Deborah Abela

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BOOK: The French Code
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‘How can you know that?' Toby asked. ‘We've only just met him.'

‘He rushes off late at night to have a secret meeting with Antoine to talk about an important discovery. Instead, we end up with a kidnapped archaeologist, a conveniently concussed Strangways and no discovery.' Max lowered her voice even further. ‘Just before we went into the museum, he almost sliced me in two with a giant blade.'

Toby and Linden swapped a confused look.

‘Max, he's an old man who walks with a cane.' Toby frowned. ‘I can't quite see him swinging any swords.'

‘He didn't swing it himself. He activated this giant medieval blade that swung across the doorway when you were already inside. He made sure I was standing close enough so that it only just missed me.'

‘Maybe it was his way of letting you know the place is safe,' Toby suggested.

‘Or that that's what we'll get if we go snooping
around,' Max whispered and looked over her shoulder. ‘And did you notice he didn't answer me when I asked if he knew where Antoine was?'

‘It
was
the only question he didn't answer,' Linden recalled.

‘And what about all those questions Strangways asked Veronique, where he was fishing for information?'

‘Which ones?' Toby asked.

‘When he asked in a roundabout way whether her father had any news about one of the many projects he was working on, and if she'd seen that
Book of the Dead
before. And did you see how he looked at her when he told her it was Antoine who found it? Like he was checking for any giveaway reaction.'

Toby offered another explanation. ‘Maybe he was seeing if she knew anything that would be useful for Tetu in finding her dad. Strangways is a family friend, and he probably thinks she'd feel more comfortable talking to him than to strangers.'

‘Maybe, but what did you think Strangways meant when he said he was sorry Veronique had been “
involved in all this
”?'

‘That he was sorry that Veronique had been involved in all this.' Toby frowned.

‘Thanks, Einstein.' Max scowled. ‘Don't you think it could mean that he's not sorry about everything that's happened, but he
is
sorry that Veronique became involved in whatever sneaky plan he's trying to carry out?'

‘What sneaky plan?' Toby asked.

‘I don't know,' Max answered. ‘I haven't worked that out yet.'

Max's room was the furthest down the hall. She felt tired. Her head was pounding from the fall into the coffin and her bones ached from lack of sleep.

From the shadows of the hallway, a hidden figure watched as she dragged her feet into her room and closed the door against the quiet, lamp-lit hall. The figure stayed there all night, watching and waiting.

Secret Agent Max Remy fought against the ropes that bound her body with a mummy-like grip. She writhed and struggled, hitting against the sides of the sarcophagus that was now her private prison in the dungeon of Strangways's castle.

‘You see, you are no match for me, my dear, no matter how much of a superspy you think you are.'

Strangways leant against his cane and didn't even try to conceal his gleeful smile. ‘Until now, I can assure you, you have dealt with amateurs, and I am no amateur. Not when it comes to getting what I want.'

Max took a deep breath and fought against the surge of panic swelling in her chest. ‘You may think you've won, but I will fight you until my last breath.'

Strangways put his weight on his good leg, leant his cane against the wall and gave Max a slow clap. ‘Bravo!' he called out. ‘Such a noble performance. And so dramatic. Pity it will be your last.'

Strangways grabbed his cane and pushed it into a button on the wall beside him. In the roof above Max, the stone cover of a chute slid open from which fell a waterfall of feed pellets.

Max closed her eyes and twisted her head away as her coffin filled with the dry foodstuff.

‘Feeling hungry, are you?' She tried to sound calm.

‘Oh, it's not for me, my dear.'

He nodded at a small hatch cut into a wall at the far end of the room.

‘It's for the rats, of course.'

A cage-like door swung upwards and a spill of rats flooded from the hole like a geyser. Max's pulse quickened. She looked from the rats to Strangways, who was now safely positioned behind a solid wooden door, his eyes visible through a sliding peephole.

‘Bye bye, Max Remy. Our time together has been short, but most definitely sweet,' he snivelled gleefully. ‘Especially this part.'

The peephole panel slid shut.

The rats were tidal-waving into the room. Tumbling and stepping over each other, tripping and scrambling towards the smell of dinner.

Max kept pulling her bound arms until she finally managed to free her hand far enough to reach into her pocket and pull out her palm computer.

‘Linden! Linden. This is Max. I'm in trouble.'

Max waited for an answer.

‘Linden? Where are you? I need your help.'

Max desperately watched the blank screen for a response, while behind it a large, toothy rat had sunk its claws into the top edge of the coffin and launched himself inside.

‘Aaaah!'

Max dropped her computer as the rat ravaged the pellets that lay all over her. Other rats followed, struggling to get to the edge of the coffin before leaping inside.

‘Aaaah!' Max tried to kick out with her legs and beat the rats away, but more scrambled over her, crawling on her, sniffing and drooling, until the coffin swam with them.

One large, hairy rat began to move up her chest, inching towards Max's face.

‘No!'

It's gnarled teeth, yellow and fang-like, grew larger as it closed in, step by step, creeping towards her before a backdrop of marauding rats, dripping with saliva. Closer, hungrier until

‘Aaaah!'

Max woke to see two coal-black eyes staring at her.

‘Aaaah!

She screamed again and wrestled with the sheets of her bed, which had twisted around her like pythons. Unable to break free, Max flung herself onto the floor and rolled into the middle of the room.

‘What is it? What's wrong?' Linden stood at the door, already dressed, his wild hair almost combed into some kind of order.

‘Rats! A coffin! Me.' Max stopped when Linden's frown made her realise she wasn't making any sense.

‘Sorry?' Linden pushed his hair out of his face, only to have it fall back again.

It took Max a few seconds to take in what had happened: what was the dream part and what was real. The crawling, swarming rats were certainly the dream. The dead rat sitting on her pillow, eyes open and staring at her, was real. A present from Fifi, she realised, when she saw the mutt at the foot of her bed, wearing what seemed to be a smile.

‘Why you …'

Max wrenched herself out of her sheets and, with hands held out, headed for Fifi's neck. Linden was quick to intercept, grabbing Max around the waist and lifting her from the ground.

‘Let me at her.' Max gritted her teeth. ‘She's been out to get me from the first black, miserable moment we met.'

Max kicked and wriggled in Linden's arms.

‘I'm not going to put you down unless you promise not to strangle Fifi.' Linden gasped.

‘Oh, isn't that cute. Fifi has brought you a present.' Veronique appeared behind them. Her hair neatly pulled back, she was wearing jeans and a shirt that sparkled with what Max thought may have been diamonds around the edge of her collar. And she was wearing make-up. She opened her arms and Fifi leapt into them. ‘And you two are playing some kind of wrestling game. How very … boyish.'

Linden whispered in Max's ear, ‘Do you promise not to attack?'

‘Which one? Her or the animal?' Max whispered back.

‘Both.'

‘Okay,' Max offered reluctantly. ‘But only for now.'

When Linden let her go, Max tried to straighten her hair and clothes but knew that next to the designer look of Veronique, she resembled a rumpled sack of old rags.

‘See you downstairs.' Veronique spun on her low-heeled boots and left.

Linden looked at Max. ‘Do you want me to do something with that rat?'

‘Would it involve putting it near Veronique?'

‘No.' Linden smiled.

‘You're no fun.'

Linden pulled a hanky from his pocket and wrapped the rodent inside. ‘Breakfast is ready,' he said before leaving.

Max looked around at her room and caught sight of herself in the mirror of a marble-topped dresser. She stopped. Veronique was all chic and in control; Max was a walking cyclone. She sighed and turned away.

As she approached the breakfast room, the belly laughs from the others floated out in great waves.

‘Sharing your bed with rats now, Max?' Toby couldn't hold back another laugh. Fifi sat beside him and seemed to join in the hilarity, panting happily over a small steak. ‘It's great how you and Fifi are bonding.'

Max moved away from the smiling pooch and sat next to Linden. ‘Don't you have anything more interesting to say?'

‘I do, actually.' Toby smiled smugly, waiting to be asked for more.

‘Well?' Max threw her open hands into the air.

‘Last night I did a little research into ancient Egyptian amulets. They were often obtained by people known as “protection makers”, and Taweret is one of the big ones for offering protection. The other interesting fact is that a lot of amulets were made with a hidden cavity so that a protective spell could be inserted.'

‘And you think there might be one in here?' Veronique took off the amulet. ‘Where?'

‘Look for something unusual or out-of-place in the design. A bump or stopper maybe.'

Veronique looked over the amulet and saw a rounded blocked hole under the feet. She took a clip from her hair and dug out a small wooden stopper. She shook the amulet and a rolled note fell to the table.

‘And there it is,' Toby said with satisfaction.

Veronique read the note:

 

A nod of a head

And ‘Cast out' in a cry

Will chaos banish

With Taweret held high

 

‘What does it mean?' Veronique asked.

‘Not sure yet,' Toby answered. ‘But I think it'd be a good idea to keep that amulet close.'

‘And even more important to stick close to us. We've got the skills and equipment to keep you safe.' Max tried to keep the conversation in the land of the not-kooky. ‘And we should use today to find out more about Strangways. The more I think about it, the more I …'

‘We've already decided what we're doing today.' Veronique slipped the amulet back around her neck and beneath her shirt. ‘Regi has gone to his board meeting and left me a note to say we are to concentrate on forgetting about what has happened and leave the crime solving to the professionals.'

‘We are professionals,' Max spluttered.

‘Maybe,' Veronique replied, ‘but you are also my minders and are to do as I say.' She stood up from the table. ‘And I say we're going horse riding.'

‘Horse riding?' Max's face lost some of its colour.

‘Yes, and you are going to stop picking on Regi.'

‘I'm not picking on him, I just think –'

‘Regi has opened his estate to us, and we're perfectly safe as long as we stay within its boundaries.'

Veronique took an apple from an overflowing
fruit bowl and munched into it. ‘Unless, of course, you can't ride horses.'

‘I can ride horses.' Max spread a generous slathering of jam across some toast. ‘It's one of my favourite sports, actually.'

‘Excellent.' Veronique called over her shoulder. ‘François?'

The grim housemaster appeared beside Veronique in seconds. ‘We would like to go riding. Please have the horses prepared.'

François nodded and withdrew from the room as silently as he had entered.

‘We better get ready.' Veronique walked to a gold-framed mirror and reapplied her lip colour. She gave herself one last satisfied look before walking out of the room as if she was about to meet the queen.

Max held her jam toast before her. ‘Can anyone tell me why she has to get so dressed up to go horse riding?'

‘She looks good.' Toby threw the last of his brioche into his mouth and stood up. ‘You could take a few lessons from her.'

‘I'm on a spy mission, not in a fashion contest.' Max went to take a last bite of her toast when a large glob of jam slipped off the buttery bread and slid down her T-shirt in a red drizzle.

‘Just as well.' Toby chuckled and walked out.

Linden handed her a serviette. ‘I think it adds something.'

Max glared at the jam slithering down her shirt. ‘Like a big sign saying, “How clumsy am I?”'

A vehicle pulled up outside and beeped.

‘And, of course, there's no time to change.' Max took Linden's serviette and wiped the goo off, leaving a giant smudge slathered across her chest.

Max frowned. ‘You're from the country, do you have any tips for this horseriding thing?'

‘Don't let the horse know you're afraid. Be confident, but not cocky. Horses are very intelligent.'

Max kept frowning.

‘And have fun.' Linden nudged her lightly in the shoulder. ‘You'll see. Once you get a feel for riding, it's hard to stop.'

‘As long as when I do stop, I'm still alive.'

Linden laughed. ‘Come on. I'll make sure nothing happens to you.'

Max felt her face well up into a ridiculous jam-coloured blush. The horn beeped again. ‘Her ladyship is waiting,' she turned away, ‘and we can't have that.'

BOOK: The French Code
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