‘Edgar?’ Mr Doyle said.
‘There is a sword in the Japanese Museum known as the Moon Blade. It is almost a thousand years old. There would be very little difference between it and the Kusanagi sword.’
‘But it’s in the Japanese Museum.’
‘At the moment.’
‘At the...’ Mr Doyle’s voice trailed away. ‘You’re not suggesting we break in?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.’
‘And steal the Moon Blade?’
‘You know how much I hate that word,’ Edgar said, taking out a bottle and spraying on some cologne. ‘They would simply be lending it to us.’
‘Like others have lent things to you over the years?’
‘You know what I always say. Nobody—’
‘—owns anything. Yes, you’ve been spouting that particular piece of logic for years.’ Mr Doyle’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve been planning this for some time. Haven’t you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Robbing the museum.’
Edgar reddened. ‘Let’s just say that I’ve explored the possibilities. As the Bard said, Ignorance is the curse of God; knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven. A man must keep his mind active otherwise it atrophies.’
‘Can we do it?’ Jack asked. ‘Will Fujita be fooled into thinking the Moon Blade is the Kusanagi sword?’
‘He will be fooled long enough,’ Edgar said. ‘And that’s what’s important.’
‘I can’t believe we’re even discussing this,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Breaking into the Japanese Museum! And stealing a priceless artefact to hand over to a crime boss! It’s insane!’
‘But necessary,’ Hiro said. ‘Scarlet’s life depends on us carrying out this subterfuge.’
‘You know what will happen if we don’t try,’ Jack said to Mr Doyle.
The detective glumly nodded.
Climbing back onboard the dragonfly, Mr Doyle and Edgar chatted while Jack stared out the window. His thoughts were with Scarlet. Was she being looked after? Were her captors treating her well?
The sun was setting by the time they reached Tokyo. Edgar told them he had a detailed plan, but would need some supplies. He told Hiro to take them to a safehouse he had on the outskirts of the city.
After disappearing inside, he returned with a backpack and a change of clothing: blue leather pants, a matching coat and a leather top hat.
‘Should I enquire as to where you got that clothing?’ Mr Doyle asked.
‘Probably best if you don’t.’
Edgar then directed them to a hotel opposite the Japanese Museum.
After Mr Doyle rented a room on the top floor, he bought everyone dinner, which they ate as the sun set.
Jack was mostly silent during the meal, but Edgar was happy to chat cheerily about his various exploits.
‘Oh, but there have been some close shaves,’ he said. ‘One time I was pursued by over a dozen armed Russian soldiers over a little matter of the crown jewels. If I’d been caught, I would have spent the rest of my life in jail.’
‘What happened?’ Jack asked out of politeness. He was getting a little tired of hearing Edgar’s amazing adventures.
‘I took refuge under the bed of a Russian nun.’
‘That must have been quite dangerous for her.’
‘I did reward her with a necklace for her troubles.’
‘So you gave a nun a stolen necklace?’
‘The necklace wasn’t stolen. I had just borrowed—’
‘Yes,’ Mr Doyle cut him off. ‘I’m sure.’
Finishing his meal, Mr Doyle turned to Jack. ‘Are you sure you want to do this, my boy?’ he said. ‘It’s very risky.’
‘I’m doing it,’ Jack said. ‘Nothing could change my mind.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Edgar said. ‘Just follow my plan and we’ll be drinking hot cocoa together in a few hours.’
‘What is your plan?’ Hiro asked.
‘We are now located across the road from the Japanese Museum,’ he said. ‘Jack will gain access via the roof, navigate to the room containing the Moon Sword and swap it for a copy.’
‘Museum authorities won’t be fooled by a copy,’ Mr Doyle pointed out.
‘They won’t be fooled for long. That’s all we’ll need. Scarlet will be back with us, safe and sound, by the time the alarm is raised.’
‘I assume you’ve thought this out in detail.’
‘I have. As long as Jack follows my plan, he’ll be fine. If he doesn’t, the next time he sees freedom will be some time after his thirtieth birthday.’
Jack listened intently as Edgar went through the finer details. He gave Jack a map showing him his path.
‘There’s one final thing,’ Edgar said. ‘There shouldn’t be any guards in the museum.’
‘Shouldn’t?’
‘But there might be. I was never able to ascertain whether the building had guards at night or if that were just a rumour.’
Wonderful, Jack thought.
They went to the roof. The night air was cold, a distant rumble rolled across the sky and lightning flashed.
‘Please be careful, my boy,’ Mr Doyle said.
‘I will.’
Hiro took Jack’s arm. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘But I cannot stay. I promised my aunt I would buy her some medicine, and the shop is only open at night.’
‘That’s all right,’ Jack said. ‘I appreciate everything you’ve done.’
Hiro bowed to Jack. ‘You are very brave,’ he said. ‘May the gods keep you safe.’
Jack thanked him and took a deep breath.
It’s time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Edgar swung a piece of rope with a grappling hook attached and launched it twenty feet across the alley where it looped around a chimney. He tied the other end to a hotel chimney and pulled tight.
After Jack put on the backpack, he started across the rope, using a pole for balance. Below him, the city was in full swing, the streets crowded with people and traffic, but he had to ignore all that. He focused on putting one foot before the other and was soon stepping onto the opposite roof.
He dropped the pole and gave the others a wave.
Now for the hard part.
Jack used a screwdriver to pull out a grille on the air-conditioning unit. Once he’d lit a candle, he saw it continued down for about twenty feet before branching in two directions.
Attaching another grappling hook to the roof, he lowered himself to the bottom and took the left branch. It was tight in the vent, and he had to slither along on his stomach. He soon reached another vent that looked out onto a display room, filled with Japanese pottery and paintings.
Undoing the screws, Jack gently pulled out the grille and climbed into the room. The museum was as quiet as a cemetery, lit only by tiny gaslights set into the walls.
Replacing the grille, he crept down a wide corridor, passing sections
on Geology, Biology and Modern Steam Technology.
He was about to cross a hallway to the Ancient History section when he stopped, straining his ears. Someone was coming.
Jack drew back into a side chamber and took refuge under a cabinet filled with fossils. A guard’s steps grew near.
The man entered the room. He said something in Japanese, and Jack’s heart almost stopped. He had a dog with him.
Tilting its head, it eyed Jack curiously. Jack didn’t dare move a muscle until the man and dog left.
He let out a long breath as the footsteps faded, waiting another five minutes before leaving his hiding spot. Dripping with sweat, Jack’s heart was still beating fast.
Crossing to the opposite room, he paused in the doorway. The Moon Sword sat in a glass case on a stone pedestal in the centre.
The glass case wasn’t alarmed, but the floor was. Stepping on it would activate an alarm, causing every steam-powered door in the building to lock automatically. The police would arrive and it would be game over.
Jack took out the grappling gun from the backpack and pointed it at the darkened rafter running across the middle of the room.
Phut!
The hook flew over the rafter and fastened. Stepping back a few feet, Jack took a running jump and swung across the room, his feet skimming inches over the floor. His momentum carried him most of the way across, but not far enough. Throwing his body backwards, he increased his rate of swing to reach the display cabinet.
Footsteps approached. Grunting with effort, Jack climbed up the rope to the rafter. Dragging the rope after him, he watched in horror as the guard and dog appeared again. They stood in the doorway, watching.
Did they hear me?
The dog looked up and stared directly at Jack.
Then the guard looked up too.
Jack was frozen with terror. The guard continued to stare, before dropping his gaze and reaching into his pocket. He took out a half-eaten sandwich and started chewing it.
It’s too dark up here for him to see me!
The guard finished his meal, whistled to his dog and left.
Jack waited a while longer before dropping the rope, climbing down and resuming his swing across the room. A few minutes later he reached the display case.
Now Jack spotted one last obstacle. The display case was made from a moulded piece of glass with hinges attaching it to the pedestal on one side and a lock at the other. He would need to unlock it while precariously gripping the pedestal with his legs.
Give me something difficult to do.
Having wrapped his legs around the pedestal, Jack had the case unlocked in seconds. He took out the Moon Sword. The ancient weapon had weight, balance and gravitas, unlike the replica. A close examination of the copy would reveal it to be a fraud in seconds, but hopefully that wouldn’t happen for several hours.
Relocking the case, he swung back towards the door, tucking the sword into his backpack. He would be close enough to jump to it in seconds.
Just as Jack was about to release the rope, he heard footsteps again.
You’ve got to be joking.
With one final burst of momentum, he gripped one of the half-open doors and pulled himself onto its top edge, just as the guard and dog reappeared into the doorway.
The guard stared into the chamber, the dog whining and twisting its head, looking straight at Jack.
Go away!
The guard lingered for another minute before moving on, taking the dog with him. The footsteps receded.
Jack hadn’t realised he was holding his breath, but now he gasped.
I’m not suited to burglary.
Gently easing himself off the door, he reeled in the hook and rope.
The corridor was deserted. But when he peeped around the corner, he spotted a security guard approaching.
Damn.
Jack turned back the way he had come and sprinted to the opposite corner. Another guard was coming.
I’m trapped!
Jack had to create a diversion—but what? Nothing in the backpack would help. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a slingshot and a rock. Peeping around the corner, he saw the nearest guard had paused to look in a room filled with ancient tapestries.
Using the slingshot, Jack fired the rock past the man. As it bounced down the hall, the guard spun about at the sound and raced after it.
Jack used the opportunity to scamper into the tapestry room. A moment later, a second guard passed the room. The men began talking. One had the rock in his hand, confused. Jack scampered down the hallway.
I’ll be fine once I’m around the corner, he thought. Just a few more—
One of the guards yelled.
No!
The guards began to give chase. Dogs started barking.
I’ve got to get back to the vent. Once there, Jack stood a chance of escaping.
He rounded a corner—and came face to face with a guard and his dog.
The guard drew a baton, but Jack came in low with a sweeping kick, knocking him to the floor. His dog lunged at Jack, grabbing his coat, but somehow Jack managed to pull away.
He ran. The entire museum had come to life. An alarm bell shrilled. A dog chased him.
Jack dragged a piece of steak from the backpack and tossed it behind. Glancing back, he saw the dog had stopped to eat it.
Good thinking, Mr Doyle.
But now guards were appearing from all directions. Jack raced down another hallway, lost.
Where is the exit?
His eyes narrowed on a room containing pots and ancient paintings.
There it is!
He charged into the room, but half-a-dozen guards were almost on him, one yelling orders in Japanese.
Jack spun around to face them. The men didn’t have guns, but they had batons. He might be able to fight off one or two, but not all of them.
This is hopeless, he thought. I can’t escape.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The guards started towards him—and then stopped, their eyes widening in surprise. A sound came from behind and Jack turned to see the red ninja, slipping nimbly from the vent like a cat. She gave him a small nod, a smile in her eyes.
I know those eyes, Jack thought. But from where?
One of the guards charged, baton raised, but the red ninja went low, sweeping the guard’s legs from under him. She grabbed his baton and flung it at another guard’s knee, who immediately fell, howling. Next, she hurled throwing stars at the feet of the remaining guards and they all dropped to the ground in agony.
Effortlessly, the red ninja lifted Jack to the vent. Scrambling inside, he followed it to where it angled upwards, the ninja close behind. Raised voices came from the room as the alarm continued to ring.
Jack and the ninja reached the roof.
‘Thank you,’ he breathed. ‘How will I ever repay you?’
The red ninja simply shook her head.
Swallowing
, Jack said, ‘But now they will check the museum and realise I stole the Moon Sword.’
The red ninja reached back and, producing a rolled up painting, showed it to Jack. He understood her plan.
They’ll think our goal was to steal the painting. It’ll be hours before they realise the Moon Sword is also gone.
She pointed to the rope leading to the hotel. Jack crossed it in seconds, falling into Mr Doyle’s arms.
‘Jack!’
‘The red ninja saved me!’ Jack said.
‘I know, Jack,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘We saw her.’
They gazed back at the museum roof, but she was already gone.
Grabbing their gear, Jack and Mr Doyle returned to their hotel room. There wasn’t a moment to waste. Edgar took the backpack downstairs and dropped it into a side alley.
‘No doubt the police will find it and assume the thief has escaped in a vehicle,’ he said when he returned.
‘You’ve obviously thought this through,’ Mr Doyle muttered.
They glanced out the window. The streets were filled with noisy people and police vehicles arriving. Reporters turned up to interview museum officials, while photographers set up cameras.
‘I wouldn’t have escaped if not for the ninja,’ Jack said.
‘We owe her a great deal,’ Mr Doyle agreed.
Edgar spoke up. ‘I suggest we get a few hours sleep,’ he said. ‘We’ll leave early in the morning for Fujita’s tower.’
The next morning, they woke just after dawn. As they were heading out the door, Edgar proudly wielded the Moon Sword.
‘This is a work of art,’ he said. ‘The best Japanese swords were made by master swordmakers who folded the hot metal hundreds of times to make them stronger.’
‘Will it fool Fujita?’ Jack asked.
‘It should,’ Edgar said. ‘I’ve checked the early edition of the paper and found no mention of its theft. The museum officials should be fooled for some time.’
The Lost Sword Page 20