He paused to kick off his shoes and order coffee and sandwiches from room service. He moved to the couch in order to spread out. He put some documents on the coffee table, separating them into piles.
It was with dawning horror that he realized that his instincts were right.
Why hadn’t he seen these connections before? He had been such a fool.
Amy and Dan were in greater danger than he thought.
He jumped up to retrieve his secure cell phone to call Attleboro, but there was a knock at the door.
“Room service, signore.”
Of course, the sandwiches. That was fast. He couldn’t imagine eating now, but he called, “Entrare – come in.”
McIntyre kept his gaze on the paper he was reading. “Just put it on the desk, per favore.”
He stood to sign the bill. The waiter had his back to McIntyre as he put down the tray.
McIntyre had exactly three seconds to notice several things. Water glass not quite full. Napkin folded imprecisely. Smear of butter on the metal dome covering the plate.
He made the conclusion with equal speed. Someone had picked up a used tray from the hallway and then tried to make it look fresh.
He had only a few more seconds to react. With one glance at the waiter he knew he was in no shape to take him on. He would go down fighting, but the best he could do was leave something behind.
Behind his back, he crumpled the paper. Then he leaned down as if for his wallet and stuffed the paper in his empty shoe.
The waiter turned, and McIntyre saw his face for the first time.
For a long second, the two just stared at each other. Then the intruder rushed toward him.
“It’s you!” McIntyre gasped.
The needle sank into his neck.
The smile on the face from the past was the last thing McIntyre saw before his knees gave way.
The firemen insisted that Amy and Dan get checked out at the hospital, but they refused. Katja Mavel either felt totally guilty or totally responsible and afraid to get sued, because she offered to take them to her own doctor. “But they were signed out!” she kept telling the firemen, wringing her hands.
In the end Amy prevailed, promising at the first sign of weakness or discomfort to head for a doctor. They were feeling fine, she told everyone earnestly. She was anxious to be gone. Her brother had a stolen map underneath his shirt.
“You should come with us,” Atticus urged. “We’re staying with this professor, a friend of our father’s. The apartment goes on for miles – we even have our own sitting room. He won’t mind if you stay, I guarantee it.”
Amy glanced at Jake. “Sure,” he said flatly. “You can fill us in on why somebody’s trying to kill you. And who those blond thugs were, and why they targeted me and Atticus.”
“I saw them leaving,” Amy said. “The girl was limping.”
“She needed a little persuasion to let my brother go,” Jake said. “Any idea why they were there?”
Amy didn’t say anything. She knew they’d have to spill some details, but she wasn’t sure how much to tell. They needed the help of the Rosenblooms right now. Soon, Vesper One would demand the transfer. Before they gave up the map, they had to figure out its connection to Il Milione.
As they trudged to the apartment, Amy dropped back, letting the three boys walk together. She took a moment to text back to Attleboro. She needed advice. Who better than Sinead? She totally trusted Sinead’s coolheaded opinion on things.
WE ARE FINE. HAVE MAP. JAKE AND ATTICUS HERE IN PRAGUE. THEY DEMAND ANSWERS. THEY GOT US INTO LIBRARY AND CAN BE HELPFUL W MAP AND MILIONE. THINK WE NEED TO CONFIDE SOME DETAILS ABOUT VESPERS, HOSTAGES, ETC.
ASK ERASMUS AND MCINTYRE ABOUT GUARDIANS.
In a few minutes, Sinead texted back:
NO INFORMATION ON GUARDIANS FM ERASMUS. MCINTYRE NOT ANSWERING. BEWARE. ROSENBLOOM BROTHERS TURNED YOU IN ONCE. WOULD DO IT AGAIN. STRONGLY ADVISE NO.
Amy slipped the phone back in her pocket, feeling strangely disappointed. She felt they owed Jake and Atticus more of an explanation. And she sensed that Atticus had more to tell them. But maybe Sinead was right. Certainly, Jake had turned them in once before. He could do it again. He could be lying to them right now. The two boys could be leading them straight to Interpol.
As Jake and Atticus reached a busy street corner, Jake put his hand on Atticus’s shoulder for an instant. Atticus was so busy talking he would have blundered right into traffic. Amy studied that touch. It was brief, so that Atticus wouldn’t feel directed by his big brother, but it was caring. She remembered the sight of Jake pushing through the crowd, trying to get to them, standing over her, making sure she was okay. He took responsibility for things, she could tell.
Just the way Jake felt responsible for Il Milione. Because, in a different world, under normal circumstances, Amy would have felt the same way.
Okay, she thought grudgingly, I’ll give him that. He cares.
Maybe she shouldn’t have kicked him quite so hard.
The apartment took up two floors of a grand building close to Old Town Square. Everything seemed to be upholstered in leather or velvet, and Amy had never seen so many tassels and trimmings – on curtains, on chairs, on sofas. Books were piled in short columns everywhere and used as tables for an assortment of abandoned teacups. At this hour, it was still and quiet.
Until Jake heard the news.
“You stole the map?” Jake asked furiously.
“We can explain – ” Amy started.
“Do you realize that you’ve implicated my brother in your crime? And me?”
“I’m sorry, that was unavoidable. The fire alarm – ”
“You said you were only going to look at it.”
“No, actually, that’s what you said,” Amy corrected.
“She’s right, Jake,” Atticus said.
Jake wheeled on Atticus. “And you! How could you get involved in something like this?”
Atticus took a breath and faced his brother. “Because I’m a Guardian,” he said. “I’m involved whether I like it or not.”
“What’s a Guardian?” Dan asked.
Jake held his head. “Not this wacko fairy-tale stuff again.”
“It’s not a fairy tale!” Atticus cried. “I know that now. Mom told me I was a Guardian. I didn’t know what she meant. I still don’t. But I think my great-grandmother was one, too.” Atticus looked at them, vulnerable and scared. “Do you know what it means?”