The Crystal Code (14 page)

Chapter 19

‘I
s it him?'

‘Tell him we need to speak to Mum and Dad.'

‘What's he saying?'

Gerald clamped his hand over the mouthpiece and let out a loud
shush!

‘Quiet,' he said. ‘I can't hear.'

He fumbled with the phone and finally found the button for the speaker.

A calm but authoritative voice sounded out. There was something familiar about it. Gerald couldn't quite place it. But he knew it wasn't Tycho Brahe.

‘Gerald Wilkins? I have something important to tell you.'

Gerald dropped into the office chair behind the desk. ‘Who is this?' he asked.

‘My name is Ursus.'

Gerald looked to the others. Blank responses. They'd never heard of him either.

‘Yes?'

‘I have news of your parents. And the others.'

Ruby took in a sharp breath and grabbed Sam's arm.

‘They are safe. I am informed they will be released when the time is right.'

‘What does that mean?' Gerald said. ‘When the time is right? How do you know all this?'

‘You have been contacted by Tycho Brahe?' the man asked.

Gerald touched his cheek. It still burned from the slap that afternoon. ‘Yeah, we've had words,' he said.

‘Then you know he is not to be trifled with,' the man said. ‘He is seeking the crystal pendant. Do you have it?'

Gerald looked sideways at Felicity. ‘It turns out we do,' he said. Felicity lowered her eyes to the carpet.

‘I suggest you give it to him,' the man said.

‘We're going to—we want to—but we haven't heard from him.'

‘He will be in touch very soon, I am sure. He will ask you to meet him in Prague, in the Czech Republic, away from the hands of the British Police.'

‘How do you know this?' Gerald said. ‘Who are you?'

‘I am the only hope you have of ever seeing your parents again. I advise you to do everything that Mr Brahe instructs. Do not doubt his tenacity; do nothing to impede him. And under no circumstances mention that we have spoken. That would be disastrous. For everyone.'

There was a click, and the line went dead.

‘What do you make of that?' Ruby said.

‘I guess I pack a bag and wait for Brahe to call,' Gerald said.

‘You're not seriously thinking of going to Prague?' Felicity said. ‘If Brahe is as dangerous as you say, that's insane.'

Gerald leaned back in the chair. ‘Do we have a choice? First Brahe and now this Ursus guy. Every man and his dog seems to know what's going on except us.'

‘Bear,' Sam said.

‘What?'

‘Everyman and his bear,' Sam said. ‘Ursus. It's Latin—it means bear.'

Gerald narrowed his eyes at Sam. ‘How do you know all this stuff?'

‘I have no idea,' Sam said. ‘I guess if teachers throw enough at you some of it's bound to stick.'

‘If you're going, Gerald, Sam and I are coming too,' Ruby said.

‘What happened to going to the police?' Gerald said.

Ruby shrugged. ‘I guess we don't have a choice but to do what Brahe tells us to do.'

‘I'm coming too,' Felicity said. ‘It's my fault we're in this mess.'

Gerald looked at each of his friends in turn. He didn't feel confident. But at least he didn't feel alone.

‘That's settled, then,' he said. ‘Now we just wait for the call.'

It came the next morning, soon after breakfast.

Brahe's instructions were to the point. And Mr Ursus had been right.

‘You will travel to Prague. Bring the crystal with you. You will be under the Astronomical Clock in the Old Town Square at 3 p.m. on Wednesday. You will not be late.'

Gerald scribbled the details on a sheet of paper. ‘What about Ox and Alisha, and—'

‘Your friends will be released once I have the crystal.' Then, in a voice so low a mole would struggle to hear it, ‘Tell no one.'

It took Gerald over an hour to convince Mr Prisk to allow him to use the Archer corporate jet. It was the comment ‘I could always hire another lawyer' that proved the clincher.

‘But why Prague?' Mr Prisk asked as he lifted the telephone to make the arrangements. ‘It's even colder there than it is here.'

‘I've always wanted a white New Year's Eve,' Gerald said, not sounding particularly convincing.

Mr Prisk eyed him archly. ‘In the absence of Mr Fry, I will send Mr Pimbury from Avonleigh as chaperone,' he said. ‘There needs to be some adult supervision.'

‘Fine,' Gerald said. ‘As long as he knows who's the boss.'

It took Captain Baulch three attempts to land the jet at Prague international airport. The snow was driving across the runway in thick flurries. Visibility was close to zero. Five minutes after she taxied to the terminal building, the airport was closed due to the blizzard conditions.

The sky over Prague was gutted—every trace of life and joy had ebbed away. Clouds of ice draped over the city like a sodden blanket.

Gerald had never felt so cold. It was like the marrow in his bones had formed glaciers, tiny frozen rivers immobile in his frostbitten interior.

‘This is ridiculous,' Ruby said as she banged her gloved hands together. ‘How are we supposed to get anywhere in this snow?'

They stood in the airport concourse while Mr Pimbury tried to explain to a limo driver where they needed to go.

Felicity dropped a daypack at Gerald's feet and pulled his arm around her shoulders. ‘I hope there's a fire at the hotel,' she said. ‘I love an open fire.' She snuggled tighter into Gerald's chest.

Ruby stared at them for a second. Gerald gave her an apologetic shrug. She turned and marched towards the exit. ‘I think Mr Pimbury has the driver sorted,' she said, without looking back.

The automatic doors slid open. An arctic blast took their breath away.

The limousine ride into Prague took them through streets barely wider than the car. They weaved in and out of a maze of buildings straight from a fairy-tale village. Tall, narrow windows looked down upon them as they crawled through the city. There were no people. No cars. The flawless carpet of snow only added to the feeling they were in a town that had been recently vacated—packed up, vacuumed clean, waiting for the next tenants to move in.

‘This is so weird,' Sam said, his breath fogging the car window. ‘Anyone else got the feeling we've stepped out of a time machine?'

‘Didn't anyone own a ruler when they were building this place?' Gerald said. ‘None of these streets are even vaguely straight. And these buildings don't look like they've changed in the past five hundred years.'

When they arrived at the hotel there was a dash for the door. They paused in the foyer, glad to be out of the piercing cold.

‘Oh, there is a fire,' Felicity said, poking her head into an adjoining lounge. ‘Come on, let's defrost.' She disappeared around the corner with Sam close behind.

Gerald hesitated next to Ruby. ‘I'm sorry about the whole Felicity thing,' he said.

Ruby cut him off. ‘Don't start, Gerald. It seems to bother you way more than it bothers me. Like I said before, getting Mum and Dad back safely is all I'm thinking about at the moment. I thought Christmas Eve might have meant something to you, but clearly not. Felicity tells me you two are solid. Fine. You can play footsies together as much as you like.' She brushed past Gerald and walked towards the lounge area. She turned the corner at a trot.

Gerald's shoulders slumped. He was too young for all this.

He looked to Mr Pimbury, who was at the reception desk, checking in. A grandfather clock in the corner chimed twice. It was only an hour until Gerald was due to make the handover with Brahe.

‘Mr Pimbury?' Gerald said. ‘Everything all right?'

‘As good as can be expected,' Mr Pimbury said. ‘No one speaks English and I can't make myself understood, no matter how loudly I speak.'

‘Yep,' Gerald said, looking at his watch. ‘Life's a puzzle. Look, we're all talking about going for a look around. Just to let you know.'

‘A look around?' Mr Pimbury said. ‘In this weather? Are you barking mad? You'll catch your death.'

‘I think the snow's easing up,' Gerald said. He looked through the hotel's front doors. The blizzard had doubled in intensity. He looked back to Mr Pimbury. ‘It's not like we're going to get into any trouble. And you can sit by the fire with a pot of tea and put your feet up. That'll be nice.'

Mr Pimbury signed the last of the check-in paperwork. ‘Assuming they have any tea here,' he muttered. ‘Very well. I'll be waiting by the fire. Don't be long.'

Gerald collected a duffle bag from their pile of luggage and headed into the lounge. Felicity and Sam were drinking hot chocolate by the fireplace. Ruby sat on a couch, studying a tourist map of the city. Gerald dumped the bag at her feet. ‘There are some jackets and gear in here,' he said. ‘What have you found?' He sat next to her. Ruby shuffled a few centimetres away.

‘The old town square is just a few blocks from here,' she said, pointing to the map. ‘The astronomical clock is at the south end, here.'

‘What exactly is an astronomical clock?' Sam said. ‘Tells you the time and the winning lottery numbers?'

‘Astronomy,' Ruby said. ‘Not astrology, you clot. The movement of the planets and the universe. Not whether you'll fall in love with a tall, handsome stranger.'

Felicity looped her arm through Gerald's and squeezed. ‘He's not that strange,' she said, gazing at Gerald with a sweet smile.

Ruby closed her eyes for a moment. ‘It's a clock that has figurines out the front,' she said. ‘Puppets and moons and stuff like that. They move around on the hour.'

‘Sounds fascinating,' Sam said.

Ruby opened the zip on the bag and tossed a down jacket to her brother. ‘Put this on,' she said. She threw another at Felicity, hitting her in the chest. ‘It's frosty outside.'

Gerald pulled out a red jacket for himself. ‘Frosty in here, too,' he mumbled to himself.

Just then a hotel porter approached them. ‘Excuse me, Mr Wilkins?'

Gerald paused in pulling on his jacket. ‘Yes?'

‘There's a phone call for you, sir.'

Gerald gave the others a curious look and followed the porter to a telephone on an antique table.

‘Hello?'

‘Gerald?'

Gerald's fingers tightened on the hand piece. He would recognise that voice anywhere.

‘Gerald,' the voice continued, ‘this is Mason Green…'

Chapter 20

G
erald could feel the blood washing through his eardrums like tiny timpani rolling in his brain. He felt like he was going to be sick on the floor.

‘Can you hear me, Gerald? You've gone awfully quiet.'

Gerald closed his eyes. ‘I can hear you.'

‘I understand you're meeting my old friend Tycho very soon,' Green said. ‘Do you have my crystal pendant?'

‘Yes.'

‘Excellent. Don't lose it, will you. There's a good chap. It may not look much, but it bought me a ticket out of prison.'

‘Why are you calling me? Can't you just leave me alone?'

‘Gerald, I'm calling you to warn you.'

‘You! Warn me! About what?'

‘You must do everything that Tycho tells you to do. He is a good man but he is prone to sudden tempers. I wouldn't want anything to happen to your pals Alisha and Oswald. Or to you, Gerald, old friend.'

Gerald couldn't believe what he was hearing. This from the man who had tried to kill him on half a dozen different occasions. ‘What a load of rubbish,' Gerald said. ‘The only thing you care about is yourself.'

‘You sell me short, Gerald. I am working very hard at the moment to keep you and your friends alive.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘That crystal pendant you stole from me. It turns out it is a rather important collector's piece. I picked it up years ago among some interesting bits and pieces that my friend Alphonse was selling. I used to wear it as a good luck charm, you know. I must have left it in my dinner jacket when it was sent off to the cleaners. Tycho has always admired it. So it was an easy choice when he contacted me in that filthy Athens prison and offered to get me out.'

‘He helped you escape in exchange for the pendant?'

‘The pendant, and another item that I asked my friend Alphonse to acquire. Imagine Tycho's anger when he found out the crystal had been stolen. By you.'

Gerald's mind folded back to the scene in the chalet when Brahe and his thugs were demanding everyone hand over their jewellery. He shivered. ‘So it was Brahe who ransacked your apartment in San Francisco looking for the pendant,' Gerald said.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. ‘I hadn't heard about that,' Green said. He did not sound impressed. ‘But you are missing the point, Gerald. Tycho is determined. I hold genuine fears for the safety of Alisha and Oswald. On my word as an Englishman, your parents and the others will be fine—I will see to that. But Alisha and Oswald…'

Gerald's chest tightened. ‘What?'

‘Don't give Tycho any cause to be upset. Deliver the crystal on time. No police. No heroics. It must be done, or Alisha and Oswald will most likely die. And if that happens, I will be coming to find you, Gerald.' Green paused to let his words soak in. ‘I'm sure that's not something you desire.'

Gerald took a deep breath and let it flow out through his nostrils. ‘No,' he said.

‘Excellent,' Green said. ‘It is almost time. Do not be late.'

Gerald replaced the receiver. Then he ran to the men's room and was violently ill in the toilet.

The Old Town Square in Prague could have been designed by Grimm Brothers Architects. A dour-faced statue stood in its centre, surrounded on four sides by buildings topped with spires and cupolas. The twin towers of the Tyn Church were to the east, the old town hall to the south. It looked like nothing had changed there for hundreds of years.

Gerald pushed his way through a thick blanket of snow. His feet felt like ice blocks in socks. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. His head, clad in a beanie, bowed to the pianissimo patter of flake upon flake landing on the top of his skull.

‘It must be twenty below,' Sam said, his breath a plume of fog before him. ‘Who'd come out in this?'

The answer was all around them.

No one.

The square was deserted. Gerald, Sam, Ruby and Felicity walked through the snow to the clock tower. Christmas lights flickered outside the deserted restaurants, failing to entice the tourists out of their cosy hotels.

‘Brahe's supposed to be here at three,' Gerald said. They stopped at the foot of the stone tower and gazed up at the ornate clock face. A collection of gothic figurines stared back at them. It was still a few minutes before three.

The snow tumbled down.

Ruby looked up at Gerald and put her hand on his arm. ‘Are you okay?'

Gerald gave a slow nod. ‘Hearing from Green like that really threw me. Just when I had got him out of my head he's stuffed himself back in there.'

‘He's out of prison,' Sam said. ‘What does he care if Brahe gets his pendant or not.'

‘Maybe he believes in paying his debts,' Ruby said.

Gerald grunted. ‘Mason Green and honesty don't exactly go together. He's brewing something. And I really don't like what he said about Alisha and Ox.'

A gust of wind blew across the square, kicking up a flurry of snowflakes. ‘Do you think Brahe will bring your parents?' Felicity asked.

‘I doubt it,' Gerald said. ‘He'll probably phone someone and have them released from wherever he's holding them. They could be anywhere.'

‘You've got the crystal?' Ruby asked.

Gerald's gloved hand closed tighter around the pendant in his pocket. ‘For the fourth time, yes.'

They stared up at the clock. The minute hand crawled towards the twelve. As the hour began to strike, a skeleton perched on one side of the clock face sprang to action, swinging a silver bell. Two wooden doors slid open and a parade of puppet figures revolved past the openings.

‘What's with the skeleton?' Sam asked.

‘Death,' Ruby said. ‘Every toll of the bell is a mark closer to when you get to meet him.'

‘And you get reminded of that every hour?' Sam said. ‘Cheery.'

As the last of the tolls rang through the still afternoon air, a trumpeter in a uniform trimmed in red and yellow appeared high on the tower ramparts. He sounded a clarion call. As the notes floated away, he banged his gloved hands against his sides, then disappeared back into the warmth of the guard house.

Gerald looked around. Nothing stirred. He sucked frozen air into his lungs. ‘I don't like the look of this,' he said.

Then a low rumble sounded from across the square. Two motorcycles appeared from a narrow laneway.

Sam nudged Gerald. ‘I think your man's arrived.'

Twin figures dressed in black leathers rode towards them, their spiked winter tyres biting into the snow. Gerald, Sam, Felicity and Ruby edged closer together, shoulders pressed against shoulders.

The bikes spun around on the slippery surface and pulled up beside them.

Neither rider wore a helmet. The smaller man had a face like the last dog left in the pound—round, pressed flat and eyes that looked like they could roll out of their sockets at any moment. The larger man wore a black balaclava. He pulled it from his head, and Sam and Ruby suppressed a gasp. Tycho Brahe's silver nose seemed to glow blue in the dusk light.

‘A little cooler than our last meeting, Gerald,' Brahe said, snowflakes settling in the tangle of his beard. He coughed into his gloved hand. Despite the cold, a sheen of perspiration glistened across his brow.

Sam stood opened-mouthed. He couldn't take his eyes from Brahe's face.

The man glared down at him. ‘Didn't your mother teach you it's rude to stare?'

Sam bridled at the mention of his mother. He opened his mouth to say something but Ruby grabbed him by the arm and flashed her eyes. Now was not the time to argue.

Brahe laughed. ‘What's the matter, Mr Valentine? Cat got your tongue?'

Sam couldn't help himself. ‘No. Jack Frost been nipping at your nose?'

The man's face went dark. He spun around to Gerald. ‘You have the prism?'

Gerald nodded. ‘Of course,' he said. ‘But not here.'

Brahe bristled—and he was not the only one. Ruby took Gerald by the elbow and hissed in his ear. ‘What are you doing?'

Gerald shrugged her off, not taking his eyes from Brahe. ‘Where are our parents? Where are Ox and Alisha?' he asked. ‘I'm not handing over anything until I know they're free.'

Brahe tilted his head. A thought crackled across his eyes, like lightning in a bottle. Then the edge of his mouth curled up a fraction.

‘They're not here,' he said. ‘But they're not far away.' Snow continued to pile onto Brahe's head and shoulders. He ignored it. ‘Do not think for a second that you are in a position to negotiate,' he said. He chucked his chin towards his companion, who had remained silent, straddling his motorbike. ‘A word to my colleague here and you will be rejoicing in your new status as an orphan.'

The smaller man leaned into Brahe. ‘We must hurry,' he said. ‘There's still the castle. We need to find Vaclav. And Jan and Sigmund.'

Brahe waved him off. He glared at Gerald. ‘Give me the prism.'

Ruby grabbed Gerald's arm again and swung him around. ‘Give it to him, Gerald! What's the matter with you?'

Gerald shook himself free. ‘We don't know where they are,' he said, glaring at Ruby, ‘or even if they're okay.'

Ruby tore the glove from her hand and shoved it into Gerald's jacket pocket, reefing him from side to side as she searched for the pendant.

She pulled her hand free and shoved Gerald away, sending him tumbling into the snow. ‘Here,' Ruby said to Brahe. ‘Take it. Take the stupid thing.' Her voice caught in her throat. The pendant swung from its silver chain, looped around Ruby's finger.

Brahe reached for the prism.

Gerald struggled to get up.

Then the world caved in on them.

A chorus of shrill whistles cut the air. From his position on his back in the snow, Gerald looked up to see three coils of rope launch over the parapet of the clock tower. Moments later, three figures clad in black military fatigues were rappelling face first down the side of the ancient building. Shouts broke out across the square. Sharp, urgent calls. Gerald couldn't make out the words, but he could tell they meant business. He rolled onto his knees. From laneways and shopfronts, men brandishing handguns and assault rifles emptied into the square. A single shot echoed like a thunderclap.

Brahe moved quickly. He snatched the chain from Ruby's hand and threw his leg over his idling motorbike. His hand flew to the throttle and he opened it wide. The machine roared and smoke shot from the exhaust.

Gerald knew he had to act.

He threw out his hand a second before the bike kicked into gear. He wrapped his fingers around the sissy bar at the back of Brahe's seat just as the machine surged forward. Gerald's arm snapped taut, his shoulder was almost yanked from its socket. The rear of the bike spun around, flipping Gerald onto his backside. The snow tyres buzzed bare centimetres from his ear as the spikes struggled to grip the powder. Gerald could feel his fingers slipping. Brahe slammed the machine sidewards. The impact twisted Gerald into the air. He landed on his feet, square behind the bike. Without thinking, he latched his free hand onto the other side of the sissy bar. The rear wheel bit into the snow and the bike took off across the square, towing Gerald behind it like a water skier.

Gerald could still make out shouts coming from behind him, but the roar of the engine drowned out almost everything. His eyes dropped to the spiked snow tyre that was now spinning uncomfortably close to the crotch of his jeans. A sudden bump and that would be the end of the Wilkins family line.

Gerald clenched his teeth and looked up. Brahe was heading towards the far corner of the square, gunning the engine for all it was worth. Gerald clung on, his boots buffeting across the snow. They were following Brahe's partner, who made a sudden turn towards the church on the eastern perimeter. Gerald shot a look over his shoulder. Ruby, Sam and Felicity were surrounded by armed men—and three police motorcycles were surging after him.

Gerald spun his head forwards again—and spotted the crystal pendant. It was strung around Brahe's right wrist, the prism flailing in the wind.

It was the only bargaining chip Gerald had. If he ever wanted to see his parents again, he had to get it back.

At that point, Brahe noticed he had a passenger.

His head swivelled and Gerald stared straight into his eyes. Brahe threw a hand back, swiping at him. Gerald ducked, then had the unnerving sensation of the fork of his pants being shredded. He looked down to see the snow tyre had sliced clean through the main seam of his jeans. His purple boxer shorts were flapping in the very cold wind.

‘Eep!' Gerald cried.

He looked up just in time to duck another swinging fist from Brahe. Instinctively, Gerald shot out a hand to scrabble at Brahe's face. His fingers closed around something cold and hard.

Brahe lost control of the bike for a second. It wobbled and the shake reverberated though the machine like an earthquake. Gerald was flung clear. He sailed through the air and smacked hard into a snow bank. He struggled upright to find his pants full of snow and a silver nose in the palm of his right hand.