The Empress's Tomb (35 page)

“I can't go home, Principal Wickham. If I do, I'll be on the next bus to West Virginia. I can't risk being sent to boarding school.”

“Ah.” Principal Wickham thought for a moment. “I'm
afraid I can't risk losing you, either. You see, I've told too many people about the hidden room beneath Bialystoker Synagogue. I'd hate for them to think I was finally becoming senile. What would you say if I were to come to your house tomorrow afternoon and explain a few things to your parents?”

My heart was racing. I couldn't bear to look at Kiki. “Okay,” I gulped.

“Excellent! I'll see you tomorrow at noon. And good job this evening, Ananka. Miss Strike, if you ever care to return to Atalanta, I would be happy to arrange a scholarship.”

A group of policemen rushed past us, and Kiki and I hurried for the exit of the museum. I said nothing until we were on the front steps.

“I can explain …,” I started to say.

“Save it,” Kiki snapped. “We'll discuss this as a group.”

A good detective never needs an invitation. Don't let a velvet rope prevent you from foiling a crime or digging up a few clues. Whether you're tailing a suspect to a bat mitzvah or an Oscar party, there are countless ways to get through the door.

Who's been invited? Is there anyone on the list who won't be attending? Could the press make an appearance? Will food be served? The more you know, the easier it will be to choose a course of action.

It's not just dogs that smell fear. Any good doorman can detect nervousness and anxiety from a block away. If you want to get in, you have to
believe
you belong. And always have a good story prepared long before you show up.

Most unsuccessful party crashers do it for all the wrong reasons. Whether they're social climbers or star stalkers, they tend to care too much. Remind yourself that the world won't end if you don't get in—you'll get what you're after one way or another. The less you care, the better your chances.

Why risk being stopped at the velvet rope if you can breeze through the back door? A waitress's uniform, cook's apron, cleaning lady's smock, plumber's tool kit, or fire marshal's badge will get you past most service entrances. Make sure to bring a change of clothes, or you could end up serving hors d'oeuvres or plunging toilets all night.

This time-honored trick takes a bit of finesse. Wait somewhere inconspicuous until a large group of people approaches the door. Then simply join the mob. The doorman's unlikely to give each person a grilling—particularly if there's someone important leading the way. But make sure you look like you belong with your new friends. If you're dressed head to toe in J.Crew, you'll probably stick out in a crowd of goth Lolitas or motorcycle chicks.

Unfortunately, this works only if you're under fifteen and the party isn't adults only. Muster up a tear or two and tell the doorman you're looking for your parents, your wallet, or one of your mother's pearl earrings. If you're escorted inside, simply give your companion the slip. Odds are, he won't waste his time hunting down an innocent kid.

This ruse works best at bigger, fancier parties. Before the ball, dress your best, but use your powers of disguise to look under the weather. Hurry toward the entrance when the doorman's busy (but not overwhelmed) and
ask him directions to the bathroom. If your request sounds urgent—not over the top—you'll be ushered inside. No one wants vomit on the red carpet.

Once you're inside, be sure to mingle. You're less likely to get bounced if you've made some new friends.

The Irregulars were crowded into a booth at Fat Frankie's. Iris, who'd slipped away from her parents in all the confusion, was feeding french fries to the three large squirrels hidden underneath the table while Kaspar and Betty flirted with abandon. A tower of empty plates was evidence of the ferocious hunger that had overcome the group when we'd arrived at the restaurant. Kiki and I sipped coffee as the others crammed their mouths with an array of greasy delights. Luz had single-handedly inhaled two gyros, a hamburger, and a hot-fudge sundae. I hadn't eaten in more than thirty-six hours, but the hunger pangs I should have been feeling had been smothered by fear.

As we waited for Oona to finish with New York's finest, the others chatted, mostly about the mysterious girl who'd been introduced as Lester Liu's daughter. Luz insisted she was Oona's twin. Betty couldn't be sure. DeeDee didn't believe they were any relation. When
asked for her opinion, Kiki shrugged and refused to join the debate. Bets were being waged as Oona entered Fat Frankie's. Luz subtly tucked her cash back into her pocket and pulled another chair up to the table.

Perhaps because of our own ridiculous attire, none of us had considered what Oona would wear to the after party. She arrived sporting a plastic police-issue rain poncho over her cotton nightgown, and her feet flopped around in a pair of oversized Converse sneakers. Somehow she made the outfit look chic. And despite the burden of goose bumps and synthetic fibers, she seemed happier than I'd ever seen her.

“Hello, shorty,” she said, plopping down next to Iris. “Cute dress. Who'd have thought I'd be saved by a bunch of squirrels and a talking plum?”

Iris struck back with a smile. “You're welcome, Wong. I see your brush with death hasn't done much for your personality.”

“Haven't you heard? I'm hopeless.” Oona laughed. “I suggest you get used to it.”

“How did everything go with the police?” Luz asked.

“Let's just say that Lester Liu won't be bothering any of us for a very long time. The police are at the mansion right now. Along with kidnapping, attempted murder, art theft, and smuggling, it looks like they're planning to charge him with eating endangered animals and keeping a corpse in his house. I guess that's illegal in New York—who knew? And they found Molotov and Sukh—you guys really did a number on those two.”

“Are they dead?” whispered Betty.

“No, but they probably wish they were. I heard the
paramedics say that Molotov would be in a body cast for months. We should go to the hospital and stick chili peppers up his nose.”

“What about the other girl?” I asked. “Did you find out who she is?”

“Lillian Liu? She's long gone,” Oona said. “And Lester's not talking. I never got a chance to see her. Was she cuter than I am? Just joking. No really, what'd she look like?”

“Um,” Luz said nervously. “You know, it's funny. She looked just like
you.”

Oona took the information in stride. “I guess she'd have to look pretty similar for my father's plan to work. I wonder where he found such a remarkable specimen of feminine beauty.”

“No, seriously, Oona. She looked
exactly
like you,” Luz insisted. “Are you sure you're Lester Liu's only child?”

“Luz needs glasses,” DeeDee butted in. “I didn't think she looked
that
similar. So what went wrong with the plan? Why did they decide to tie you up?”

“Just bad luck, I suppose. Sukh gave me an injection, and when I didn't feel anything happen, I figured you guys had switched the drug. I tried to stay still, but it's a lot harder than you'd think. Just when they were putting me into the coffin, my nose really started to itch, and Molotov caught me in the middle of a scratch. I guess they didn't have time to try any other drugs, so they just held me down and wrapped me up. I'm really lucky you all made it into the party. If you hadn't been there, it could have gotten really boring inside that coffin.”

“You can joke now, but you shouldn't have risked your life,” Kaspar told her. “If something had gone wrong, we couldn't have forgiven ourselves. But thank you for protecting us.”

Oona frowned. “You don't have to thank me. I owed it to these guys. I made it really hard for them to trust me, and they still showed up to save the day.” She turned to the rest of us. “I should have told you about Lester Liu years ago. I'm sorry I put you in danger.”

“We're sorry for doubting your loyalty,” DeeDee told her. “We should have had more faith in you.”

“Then I suggest we all stop feeling sorry. Everything turned out okay in the end, didn't it?” Oona grinned.

“I'm just looking forward to a little peace and quiet.” Betty sighed.

“And some sleep,” added Luz.

“Don't expect any right away.” Kiki spoke at last, and the Irregulars fell silent. “Ananka has a confession to make.”

All eyes turned to me. It was the surprise in them that made me feel ill. No one ever expected
me
to break any rules. “When I got in trouble at school, my principal assigned me an essay as punishment. I wrote about the Underground Railroad.”

“Perhaps you'd like to be more specific?” Kiki goaded me.

I took a deep breath and let the words flow out on the exhale. “I wrote about the Underground Railroad stop beneath Bialystoker Synagogue. The one Kiki and I found in the Shadow City.”

“You did
what!”
Luz leaped to her feet and a plate shattered on the ground, spraying a chair with catsup.

“Oh, Ananka!” Betty was horror-stricken.
“Why?”

“What is she talking about?” Kaspar whispered to Iris. “What's the Shadow City?”

“I can't tell you,” Iris whispered back.

“I guess I didn't think that the stop should be a secret,” I told Betty. “But I never thought the principal would take it seriously. I thought she'd laugh it off. I'm not exactly Atalanta's star student. But it turns out the principal believed every word of it.”

“And she's told other people,” Kiki added. “Ananka has put the Shadow City at risk of discovery. We need to decide what to do. We need to decide
tonight.”

“You mean decide how to keep people out of the tunnels?” asked Iris.

“Yes. And decide whether Ananka should remain a member of the Irregulars.”

I stared down at the table, unable to meet anyone's eyes. The stunned silence was excruciating.

At last, DeeDee cleared her throat. “Ananka, I don't know why you thought the principal wouldn't believe you. That's just stupid, if you don't mind my saying so. But I'm curious—why do you think that the room under Bialystoker Synagogue shouldn't stay a secret?”

“Well …” The truth was, I hadn't really thought through my actions. I'd only followed my gut. “I guess I'd been thinking a lot about secrets and how it's hard to know which ones to keep. No offense, Oona, but your secret ended up causing a lot of trouble. And then
I made things even worse by opening my big mouth and spilling a secret that Kiki had asked me to keep. But there's one thing I'm pretty sure of. I don't think a secret should be kept if sharing it could do the world some good. Whoever built that room with the ten little beds risked her life to help other people escape from slavery. And the people who passed through were brave enough to do whatever it took to make it to freedom. Everyone in New York should know what they did. The Underground Railroad isn't like the Shadow City. Keeping it to ourselves would just be selfish. But I realize the decision wasn't mine to make. I should have spoken to the rest of you.”

DeeDee watched me with a blank, scientific expression. I felt certain I hadn't convinced her.

“I agree with Ananka,” she said. “People should know about the Underground Railroad stop.”

“I think so, too,” Betty said.

“
The answer to your dilemma lies under the temple,”
Oona quoted. “I still don't know what that means, but I vote to let people know.”

“What did you just say?” asked Luz. “Never mind. I agree with the rest of them. And I'll also add that Ananka hasn't been the only person keeping secrets around here, Miss Strike. But what are we going to do? Are we going to open up the Shadow City to the public? Is it all over?”

“Hold on. Let me think for a second.” DeeDee bent her head and let her fingers trace the scar on her forehead. “The room was at the end of a tunnel, right? What if we set off an explosion and block the passage? We
could even give people access to that storeroom with all the pickled oysters. We'd just make it look like the tunnel was never meant to go any farther. Nobody would ever know the difference.”

“I like it!” said Luz. “We haven't had a good explosion in a long time.”

“It does seem like a reasonable solution,” Kiki admitted. “So I guess we're all in agreement. Ananka stays and the Underground Railroad goes public. Any questions?”

Kaspar raised his hand. “I have one. Have you guys been talking about some sort of subterranean city?”

The entire table howled with laughter.

•     •     •

The Irregulars unanimously voted to let Kaspar in on our secret. Kiki even promised him a tour of the Shadow City. On one condition.

“As Luz pointed out, there have been quite a few secrets floating around. I think it's time for all of us to come clean. So if anyone's been keeping information to herself, now's the time to share it. I'll start. I'm sorry I didn't tell some of you how serious Verushka's illness had gotten. My intentions were good, but you all deserved to know. I'd also like to recommend that we use Fille Fiable only in the most dire emergencies—and promise never to use it on one another. Everyone agree?”