Castle in the Air

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Castle in the Air Page 12

by Donald E. Westlake


  The walkway at the east side of the tunnel under Boulevard Richard Lenoir comes to an abrupt end where the tunnel empties into the Gare de L'Arsenal. Unfortunately, Bruddy didn't know this until it was too late.

  "Look, Mama!" cried a young child from Kuwait, tugging at its mother's sleeve. But of course, adults never look in time, and so the mother failed to see the motorcycle come roaring and flying out of the tunnel, its headlight glaring uselessly in sunlight, its wheels racing uselessly in midair. She failed to see the motorcycle arch out high over the water. She failed to see the two men aboard the motorcycle frantically wave their arms and legs in their struggle to climb up sunbeams to safety. And she failed to see the motorcycle and its passengers knife down into the water and sink like a stone. All she saw, in fact, was a faint rippling of the heavy oily water. "You're overtired, dear," she told her child, as the child tried vainly to explain the sight that had just been missed. "Too much sightseeing," the mother decided, and took herself and her child straightaway back to the hotel.

  18

  Along the Quai de Jemmapes, at the northern end of the water tunnel, strolled an innocent bystander, enjoying the day and the view and minding his own business, until all at once Rudi, enraged, came dashing out of the tunnel, thundered up the stone steps from the canal, grabbed the innocent bystander by the lapels, and screamed in German into the poor fellow's astonished face, "You've got my blocks!"

  "Help!" said the innocent bystander. "Help! Help!"

  What might have happened to the innocent bystander next is conjectural, as this was the moment when a small taxi arrived on the scene and Otto hopped out, crying, "So!"

  "You!" yelled Rudi, releasing the innocent bystander, who at once went home and locked himself in a closet, while Rudi transferred his lapel-clutching to Otto. "It was you!"

  But Otto was also clutching lapels; Rudi's lapels. And Otto was yelling, "You would, would you? You think you'll get it all yourself, do you?"

  "What did you do with them?" Rudi demanded, shaking Otto by the lapels in exactly the same way that Otto was shaking him.

  It was Otto who first noticed the discrepancy in their actions. As bewilderment overtook anger in his expression, he said, "Rudi? What?"

  "You've got to split with me," Rudi insisted. "I'm the one brought you into this."

  "Split with you? What are you talking about?"

  "Where are the blocks?"

  "The blocks?" Otto blinked past Rudi toward the canal and the tunnel. "I don't have anything. I just got here."

  "Then who did it?" Rudi demanded.

  "Who did-" Blood drained from Otto's face. "They're gone? The blocks are gone?"

  "Of course they're gone!"

  "But… Rudi, are you sure?"

  "Would I lie to you?" Rudi asked.

  Rather than answer such a question, Otto tore himself from Rudi's lapel-grabbing grasp and ran away down the steps and into the tunnel. Rudi, an instant later, followed, pulling his flashlight from his pocket.

  Both men pounded into the tunnel, and came to a stop where last they had built the castle wall. Rudi shone his light: "There. You see?"

  Otto stared, then in sudden fury turned and clutched at Rudi. "You! It's you!"

  "No, no, no!" Rudi shouted, fending him off. "Would I still be here? Would I be so upset?"

  "No one else knew about it," Otto pointed out.

  "Herman! It was Herman!"

  Otto shook his head. "He was still asleep when I left."

  "Then," Rudi said, "it has to be either you or me, and I know it isn't me.

  "But it has to be you," Otto said.

  A crunching sound behind them made both men look toward the entrance of the tunnel, where a bum had just come stumbling in, looking for a quiet place to nap with a bottle of wine. Otto and Rudi stared at him. The bum continued to mooch along for a few paces, then became aware of the two men so fervently surveying him. He gave them a drunken nod and smile, and started to bend in several places, preparatory to sitting on the path. Then he paused, shaped like a letter in the Arab alphabet, becoming dimly aware of the waves of menace sweeping in his direction. Trying to focus on Rudi and Otto, he slowly straightened again and, increasingly nervous, shuffled away.

  "It's him," Rudi said, watching the bum retreat to sunlight. "I know it's him, look how guilty his shoulders are."

  "No, Rudi," Otto said. "If he'd taken everything away, why would he come back?"

  "It's him, I tell you."

  "No, it isn't," Otto said, and sighed. "But it's somebody like him," he said. "Someone saw us hide it all here, and waited for us to leave, and took it all away."

  With a defeated nod, Rudi said, "You're right. I know you're right."

  "So it's gone forever."

  Rudi shook his head. "I was going to write such a beautiful will."

  "And we'd better be gone forever, too," Otto added.

  Rudi frowned at him. "What? Why?"

  "Sooner or later," Otto said, "Herman will come back here. Do you want to wait here and try to convince him you're innocent?"

  Rudi looked startled. "No," he said. "Herman? No, I'm a bleeder."

  "Then let's go," Otto said.

  Frightened, but grimly determined, Rudi said, "No. I can't give up."

  "I can," Otto said. "I'm going back to Germany."

  "Good luck," Rudi told him.

  "No," Otto said. "All I need is a train ticket. You're the one who needs the good luck. Say hello to Herman for me." And with a small salute, Otto trudged away.

  For a moment longer, Rudi stood looking around, shining his flashlight deeper into the tunnel. The boat was gone. The loot was gone. Rudi sighed, he shook his head, but his expression was still determined when at last he tramped away.

  19

  "Get on with it, man," cried Sir Mortimer, from the back seat of the London taxi. "For God's sake, get on with it!"

  Into the traffic pattern of the Place de la Bastille, a somewhat smaller version of the Arc de Triomphe with only ten separate streets serving as spokes to this hub, wobbled the coughing black taxi, with Andrew still miserably at the wheel. "They're insane," Andrew babbled. "They're all insane."

  "Turn the wheel!" cried Sir Mortimer. "Get us out of here!"

  Traffic flashed by on all sides. Horns sounded, brakes squealed. Lida, on her knees on the floor in the back of the cab, prayed loudly to the Blessed Virgin in Spanish. And, more by luck than intent, Andrew steered the taxi away from the Bastille monument and onto the appropriate street for them, the Boulevard Bourdon, running southward down the west side of the Gare de L'Arsenal.

  "Over there!" cried Sir Mortimer, pointing toward two sopping figures clambering up into view from the canal. "Stop over there!"

  "Stop?" Andrew echoed. "Oh, if only I could!"

  But he could, and did. The taxi hit the curb, slowed, stalled, and stopped. And Eustace and Bruddy, both dripping wet, came across the sidewalk and entered the cab, Bruddy taking the wheel as Andrew gratefully slid over to the other side, and Eustace joining Sir Mortimer and Lida in back.

  "What a day," Eustace said. "Stop praying, Lida, I'm all right."

  In front, Andrew said, "What's that awful smell?"

  "Me," said Bruddy, dangerously. "You can smell like it, too, if you just jump in the canal."

  To Eustace, Sir Mortimer said, "Good God, man, you didn't have to swim."

  "I did," Eustace said, "after our friend Bruddy sank the motorcycle. Any sign of our quarry?"

  "I haven't been able to look," Sir Mortimer said, "with all this traffic."

  Eustace said, "I thought Andrew was driving."

  "I was," Andrew said. "And I never will again, I assure you. If I had a license, I'd rip it up."

  Sir Mortimer blanched. "You don't have a license?"

  Ignoring all that, Eustace said, "They have to be farther on. Drive, Bruddy, and try to stay out of the canal this time."

  Andrew said, "Would you all mind terribly, Eustace, if you came up here and I got
in back?"

  Eustace frowned. "Why?"

  Sir Mortimer said, "To concentrate the aroma, I suppose. The suggestion has its merits."

  "All right, all right," Eustace said. "But then let's get on with it."

  The exchange was made, Sir Mortimer ostentatiously closed the glass partition between the front and back seats, Eustace and Bruddy opened their side windows all the way, and at last they drove on, traveling south past the Gare de L'Arsenal right down to the Seine, where they stopped at the Pont Morland, the bridge under which the canal at last empties into the river. All five climbed out of the cab and went to the railing to look left and right along the Seine. To the right were the two islands in the middle of Paris-the Ile St. Louis nearest and the Ile de la Cite beyond it-while to the left was the open river, extending away more or less straight under its bridges to the city line and beyond. And in neither direction, among the boats and barges of the river traffic, was there to be seen a flat-bottom boat piled high with building blocks.

  "Ah, dear," Andrew said. "We've lost them."

  "Well, we've got to find them," Eustace said. "They can't have gotten far, not yet."

  Sir Mortimer said, "But which way? Assuming they tied up somewhere along the river, in which direction?"

  Eustace said, "We'll have to split up."

  He got a number of cold looks for that, and Bruddy said, with deceptive softness, "Oh, we will, will we?"

  "It's the only sensible way," Eustace insisted. "Can't we trust one another?"

  "Certainly not," Sir Mortimer said, as though someone had just insulted him.

  Unexpectedly, Andrew took Eustace's part, saying, "But we can trust one another. We few British."

  "I've heard," Bruddy said, "of Brits what couldn't trust one another. Once or twice I've heard such things."

  "But surely there's enough loot for us all," Andrew said. "I mean, for those of us right here."

  "Of course there is," Eustace said. "And if we all go off in the wrong direction, how does that help anyone?"

  "All right," Bruddy said to Eustace. "You go off with Andrew here, and I'll stick with Sir Mortimer."

  Doubtful, Andrew said, "Is that best?"

  "Whatever you want is fine with me," Eustace said.

  "Perhaps," Andrew said, "those of us who have been in the canal should form one group, and those of us who haven't been in the canal should form the other."

  "Hear, hear," said Sir Mortimer.

  "Fine," Eustace said. "Bruddy, you'll come with me."

  "I suppose so," Bruddy said, and turned a gimlet eye on Andrew and Sir Mortimer. "Just remember," he said, "I know you two very well."

  "Of course, Bruddy," said Sir Mortimer, with an encouraging smile. "And Andrew and I know you."

  "We'll leave the car here," Eustace said, "and meet back here in an hour."

  "Very good," said Andrew.

  Pointing away toward the lie St. Louis, Eustace said, "we'll go that way, you go the other. Come along, Lida."

  And the intrepid band became two intrepid bands, one of which smelled bad.

  20

  Renee and Charles and Jean, constructing a low wall at the waterline on the south side of the Ile St. Louis, were unaware of the three interested observers on Pont Sully, the nearby bridge. "They're sloppier builders than the Germans," commented Vito.

  "The wall doesn't have to last very long," Rosa pointed out. "Only until they're out of sight."

  "They're finished," Angelo said.

  Below, Renee and Charles and Jean, with much hand-shaking and smiling and back-slapping, had indeed finished their wall. Leaving the boat tied to it, they made their way up a nearby flight of steps onto the island and disappeared into the crowded tangle of ancient buildings there.

  "Now," Angelo said, "it's our turn."

  "We put it all back in the boat," Rosa said.

  "No," said Vito. "I'm not a turtle, I stay on dry land. We want a truck."

  "Yes, a truck," agreed Angelo. "Much better."

  "All right," said Rosa. "You two go get one."

  Both men considered her. Vito said, "What about you?"

  "Someone has to stand guard," she said, reasonably enough. "In case the Frenchmen come back and move it again."

  The two men continued to consider her. Rosa looked back at them in amazement, and said, "You don't trust me?"

  "No," said Angelo.

  "Not for a second," said Vito.

  "But what could I do," Rosa demanded, "a mere woman, with all those heavy blocks, all by myself?"

  Vito and Angelo thought that over, looking at one another out of the corners of their eyes. Finally, they both shrugged in agreement. "All right," Angelo said. "But we won't be long, Rosa."

  "That's right," Rosa said. "You should hurry."

  Vito said, "Oh, we will. Rely on it."

  Deadpan, Rosa watched the two men hurry away.

  ***

  Loping, Herman entered the tunnel where much earlier today he had last seen the booty. He stopped, he gazed about at emptiness, and somehow he seemed to grow both taller and thinner, his harsh cheekbones gleaming with a pale light all their own. Raising his arms like a vampire bat, he spoke two thundering words, which echoed and reverberated forever inside the tunnel: "Otto! Rudi!"

  Turning about, Herman loped away.

  ***

  Vito and Angelo paused near a trucking company parking lot just off the Quai Henry VI. "You wait here," Angelo said, "I'll go in and get us a truck."

  "Why don't we go in together?"

  "Two people would attract too much attention. Don't worry, I'll be right back. You can watch the gate."

  "I will," Vito promised. "I'll be waiting."

  Angelo hurried away.

  ***

  Returning to the London taxi, morose and depressed, having been assured by several English-speaking tourists that no flat-bottom boat piled high with building blocks had traveled eastward along the Seine this afternoon, Andrew and Sir Mortimer plodded along in silence until Andrew, spotting the taxi, said, "The others aren't back yet."

  "I am becoming," Sir Mortimer said, "profoundly gloomy. Profoundly."

  "Look!" said Andrew, suddenly pointing.

  Sir Mortimer looked, and now they both saw the same thing: strolling this way, chatting happily together, were Jean and Charles and Renee.

  "Hi!" called Andrew, trotting forward, Sir Mortimer in his wake. "Hi! You there!"

  Charles, looking up from an extremely pleasant discussion to see the two Englishmen hurrying his way, was about to turn tail and run when Jean grabbed his arm with a warning hiss, saying, "Wait! They don't know we took it."

  "Ah," said Charles, and at once he pasted a welcoming smile to his face and even waved a little wave.

  Arriving, out of breath, Andrew cried, "Thank Heaven we found you! The Germans stole the goods!"

  His face richly expressive of shock, Jean said, "No!"

  "We've trailed them," Sir Mortimer said, "down the canal as far as the river. They have all the blocks in a small boat."

  Andrew said, "Have you seen them?"

  Innocent, Jean said, "The Germans?" Then he turned to translate into French for the benefit of Charles and Renee. "They want to know if we've seen the Germans, in a small boat."

  Wide-eyed, curious and concerned, both Charles and Renee solemnly shook their heads, while Andrew and Sir Mortimer watched. Then Jean, still in French, said, "I am now explaining to you that the Germans found the loot and betrayed us all. You are now becoming shocked."

  Charles and Renee became shocked.

  "Terrible! Terrible!" cried Charles.

  "I am faint!" cried Renee.

  Switching to English, Jean said, "This is terrible news, gentlemen. Whatever shall we do about it?"

  Waving in the direction of Ile St. Louis, Sir Mortimer said, "Eustace and Bruddy and that Lida woman are searching off in that direction."

  Trying to hide his sudden worry, Jean said, "You think the Germans might have gone
that way?"

  Pointing back to where they had just come, Andrew said, "They certainly didn't go over there."

  "Well," Jean said, "if I were the Germans, I think I'd go over to the Left Bank and transfer the loot to a truck."

  Excited, Andrew said, "You might be right!"

  "Yes," Jean said. "Why don't you two look over there, and Renee and Charles and I will check down toward the He St. Louis, just to be on the safe side."

  "You come with us," Sir Mortimer said.

  "Oh, I should stay with my own group," Jean said, "don't you think?"

  "No," Andrew said, "that's a very good idea. You can translate for us."

  "Then we'll all go together," Jean said.

  "No," Sir Mortimer said. "Charles and Renee can check that island, and we three will do the other side of the river."

  Unable to think of an argument against this plan, and afraid to hesitate too long, Jean said, unhappily, "Very well. That's what we'll do then."

  "Good," said Sir Mortimer. "Off we go."

  Turning to Charles and Renee, and switching to French, Jean said, "I have to go with them. You are supposedly checking the Ile St. Louis, while we check the Left Bank."

  With a little smile, Charles said, "The Ile St. Louis? We'll be happy to check it."

  "I'm sure," Jean said meaningfully, "I can trust you both."

  Renee, with her most girlish smile, replied, "But, of course, Jean."

  "Come along, come along," Sir Mortimer said. "We're wasting time."

  "Yes, certainly," said Jean.

  Sir Mortimer and Jean and Andrew moved off toward the cab, Sir Mortimer saying, "Jean, you drive."

  "Certainly," said Jean.

  Charles and Renee smiled at one another.

  ***

  Rosa was just completing the job of refilling the boat with blocks when Angelo, out of breath but dangerous looking, came down the steep narrow steps and loomed over her. She didn't see him until he said, with deceptive pleasantness, "How good of you to do all that work and not even ask for help."

 

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