The Extraordinary Book of Doors
Page 9
“Psst! Polly! Is it safe?”
Polly was sitting on a table in a small, windowless office with her polka-dot painted sneakers resting on the seat of the chair. At Chen’s voice her head jerked up and she grabbed the calico cat beside her. “Come on in, but watch out for Uber. Mom and Raphael are out looking at an estate.”
Chen was too excited about his news to make small talk. He slipped through the door and plunged right in, “I’ve been doing some research and I discovered that Benjamin Franklin started two non-secret funds, one in Philadelphia and one in Boston. He left £1000 to each city to collect interest for two hundred years. The Boston one was worth almost five million dollars by the time they used it! It said in the front of your Book that this secret one is double that, so it could be worth ten million dollars!”
“That’s cool, Chen,” said Polly, surprisingly dully, “But we’ve got a problem. I think the thief has been here.” She let Uber go, and the cat jumped down from the table and twined affectionately around Chen’s ankles, purring loudly.
“Did he steal anything?”
“You can never be sure, but I don’t think so. But someone moved the Wreath Book, and I don’t think it was Mom or Raphael.”
Chen did not like this thought at all. “I hid my Book over the weekend and I’m pretty sure no one touched it,” he said nervously, although now he was wondering whether the thief had been in that closet after all. Or whether he should be standing here with the Book now instead of hiding it back away. “Are you sure Uber didn’t bump it or something?”
“Uber wasn’t down here. If this secret fund is worth as much as you say, the thief’s definitely going to be after it. We’ve got three more clues to solve, so we’ve got no time to lose. Are you ready?”
“We haven’t actually solved all the clues we already have,” Chen pointed out.
“That’s all the more reason to get these three,” Polly replied, brightening up considerably. “In fact, we might need to spend all day on it. I’d better leave a note for my mom.” She grabbed a notepad and scribbled something on it.
“All day?” Chen echoed doubtfully, but when Polly ran her finger down her list of doors, he opened his Book to Plate X. “Clue 4, here we come,” he said as he turned the key.
The heavy wooden door opened into another church, this time a smaller chapel with glowing stained glass windows and a tall, elaborately carved wooden pulpit directly across from them as they stepped out of the Dragon Book behind a large gilt lectern. They had little time to take in the architectural details, however, as the chapel was buzzing with uniformed police.
“You there!” called out a tall policeman with thick grey eyebrows and a thick Scottish accent, “You cannot be here!” He roared at the others, “Who let these children in here?”
A woman in a black suit turned to the children, frowning. “Wait a moment, McGregor. They may be able to help. How did you get in here?”
Chen and Polly glanced at each other. Polly said cautiously, “We just came through the door.”
“Which door?”
Chen looked back over his shoulder. There was a door in the stone wall, a heavy wooden door much like the one depicted in the Book, but of course the magical door they had actually come through was gone. But there was no way to explain that, thought Chen, seeing as it was impossible. He nodded at the door behind him. “That door?” he tried.
The policewoman raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” It was one of those questions that obviously meant, “You’ve got one more chance to come up with the right answer.”
“Or, um, maybe it was that door?” Chen tried again, pointing vaguely down the length of the chapel.
“No lies this time, Chen,” hissed Polly.
“You’re not helping, Polly,” he hissed back.
The policewoman frowned again and took a different tack. “Did you not see the police tape when you entered?”
“No, madam,” Polly replied, and Chen shook his head.
“So you mean to tell me you passed no yellow tape when you came in?”
“No,” the children said again. Chen added carefully, “At least, we definitely didn’t notice any.”
“Then have you been here long? More than half an hour?”
Polly answered, “No, madam, we just arrived. And please, where are we, anyway?”
At this McGregor broke in, “Do you think yourselves funny? I’ll tell you where you are: you’re in an active crime scene and you’re hindering the police in the execution of their duty! Will your parents find it so funny when you’ve been arrested for playing daft games and havering to the authorities?”
Chen gasped. This was even worse than he’d thought. But the policewoman said to the sergeant, “Calm yourself, McGregor. We already know there’s some way in and out of this chapel that we cannot explain. Perhaps these two can direct us to it.”
Polly, apparently unfazed as ever, persisted, “But we are in Scotland, right?”
Sergeant McGregor’s face turned red with irritation, but while he sputtered incoherently his colleague cut in coolly, “You seem a wee bit disoriented. Do you not know where you are at all?”
“Well, you see, we were talking about other things. And we opened the door without seeing the outside of the building. And we’ve been going to a lot of different places recently so we thought, really, we could be anywhere. You can never be sure, can you?”
“Well, for your information, you’re in St Salvator’s Chapel belonging to St Andrews University. Yes, that’s in Scotland, and yes, I am actually quite sure.”
“There, see, Chen? No need to lie about anything.”
“Indeed, Miss…?”
“I’m Polly Goggin and this is Chen Connelly. Pleased to meet you, madam!” Polly stuck out her hand to shake, but the policewoman ignored it, jotting their names in her notebook.
“Thank you, Miss Goggin. I am Inspector Campbell, and I’m very much in favor of your policy of telling no lies. If everyone followed that policy our work would be a good deal easier. Now, it is a matter of considerable interest to the police to find out how you might have got into this chapel without passing through one of the known doorways. So I’ll need your cooperation, you understand? Now then, would you kindly explain where you’re from and how you came here.”
To Chen’s horror, he was the one the inspector turned to, her eyebrows raised expectantly, her pen poised above her notebook.
“Well,” Chen began, caught under the stern glares not only of the two police officers, but also of Polly, who mouthed again, No lies! “So, we’re on a sort of… um… a sort of travel program. To study Benjamin Franklin. Benjamin Franklin must have been here some time or other, wasn’t he?”
“How in blazes should we know?” sputtered Sergeant McGregor, “And what does it matter?”
Inspector Campbell quelled him and replied curtly, “I believe St Andrews University awarded Benjamin Franklin an honorary degree of some sort. Go on.”
“Right. So, um… so we’re sort of retracing Benjamin Franklin’s travels. And when we arrived here we were looking at the page in our… in our guidebook. So like Polly said, we didn’t see anything of the outside of the building, because of only seeing what was on the page of the book. Plus I was actually paying more attention to making sure Polly’s cat didn’t get through the door because she has this tendency to dash through open doors whenever she gets a chance, see. And when we got in and looked around, the first thing we saw was all the police.”
“Bloomin’ tourists,” muttered Sergeant McGregor darkly, “What’s the point of going on holiday when you’re too busy reading your bloomin’ guidebook to see what’s in front of your bloomin’ nose?”
Inspector Campbell ignored him, as did Polly, who nodded encouragingly at Chen. “It’s true,” she said. “My cat’s really bad that way. My mom says it’s a wonder we’ve still got her. But even when she gets out, she always does come back. She’ll wait right beside the door until someone lets her in again,
which is pretty clever, really, because she always knows the right door to wait at. That’s why her real name is Überkatze. My mom says it means Supercat.”
Sergeant McGregor began to sputter again, but Inspect Campbell merely replied sternly, “This crime scene has been cordoned off for half an hour. Whether you were looking at your guidebook or your cat or anything else, I fail to see how you could have come through the police tape without noticing. So I ask you again, which door- ”
She was interrupted by the arrival of another policeman, who announced, “The dean’s come, Inspector.”
“Right. I’ll be right there.” Inspector Campbell turned back to the children, repressing a sigh. “Have a seat. Don’t go anywhere. Sergeant McGregor will keep an eye on you, and I’ll be back for another word shortly.” She strode off behind the other policeman.
Sergeant McGregor waited, scowling, while Chen and Polly stepped up into the back pew and sat down. “No funny business, now,” he growled, and turned back to his work, leaving the two children to contemplate their situation. The situation certainly seemed grim enough to Chen, who could quickly imagine dozens of ways this would end badly.
“We’ve got to get away from here,” he whispered, hunching down until he was almost hidden behind the tall, carved wooden back of the pew in front. “The more we try to explain, the worse it’s going to get.”
Polly nodded. “Yeah, let’s go back to the auction house. Wait ‘til everyone’s looking at something else, then we can quick turn the key and jump through the door. But in the meantime, let’s not forget to solve the clue while we’re here!”
Being in trouble with the police had driven all thought of the clue from Chen’s head, but Polly pulled her notes from her hip pouch and smoothed the paper on her lap. “Here it is: The fourth of my name is an anagramme of the first four letters of the one at the center of the rediscovered treasure displayed here, making thereby the word that is the quality of my whole, for it is a blessing to the industrious man, tho’ no miser can ever feel it.”
Chen shook his head. “This is the most convoluted clue yet. Quality of my whole? Rediscovered treasure displayed here? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Polly stood to get a better view of the whole chapel, but at her movement Sergeant McGregor turned and scowled at her so fiercely that she quickly sat again. Still, she craned her head toward the altar, where the police photographers and fingerprint experts were thickest.
“Look,” she whispered, “See, it looks like something was stolen from out of that empty glass case behind the altar. I wonder if that was a treasure displayed there. And it must have been the thief with the third copy of the Book who stole it. That’s why the police have been talking about a way in that doesn’t go through any of the usual doors.”
“Oh man, you’re right,” Chen replied, “And that all makes sense! If there was some special treasure here, that’s what the thief would have stolen, right? And now we’ll never be able to solve Benjamin Franklin’s clue!”
“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard to find out what was stolen,” replied Polly, and before Chen could stop her she called out, “Excuse me, Officer McGregor, sir! We were just wondering what was stolen.”
The policeman’s eyes narrowed under their bristling brows. He growled, “It’s in my mind to wonder whether you already know just exactly what was stolen!”
Chen shuddered. This was turning worse and worse. Not only were they in trouble for the trespassing, but now they were suspected of the theft as well? Would they be thrown in jail? Would their Books be confiscated? Would they be allowed to call their parents? And if he could call them, how was he going to explain any of this to his parents? And even if he wasn’t sentenced to life in a Scottish prison, his parents would have to buy him an airplane ticket to get him home from Scotland. Would they expect him to earn the money to pay them back for it somehow? How much would an airplane ticket from St Andrews to Cleveland cost, anyway? And he didn’t even have his passport with him!
But as Chen was wishing he had an iPhone to help him find the nearest US embassy so he could make a desperate escape to their protection, Polly was assuring the sergeant cheerfully, “No need to worry about that, sir. We wouldn’t steal anything. We were just curious what’s going on.”
The policeman’s suspicious glare did not relax, but he growled, “Bishop Kennedy’s mace. What do you know about that, lassie?”
“Mace? My mom keeps mace in her purse in case she gets mugged. It’s just a can of pepper spray. How is that a treasure worth stealing?”
“No,” Chen said, momentarily distracted from his worst-case scenarios, “A mace is one of those weapons knights used: like a stick with a ball on the end, with spikes sticking out and all. Is it a real medieval one or something?”
Sergeant McGregor’s glare didn’t soften a mite as he retorted, “And you’re both wrong, aren’t you. St Salvator’s mace is a ceremonial staff for the church. One of only a few in Scotland that survived the Reformation, hidden in Bishop Kennedy’s tomb. It wasn’t rediscovered until the seventeenth century. And now that’s enough out of you both until Inspector Campbell’s ready to hear your bloomin’ statements.”
Polly waited a moment until Sergeant McGregor had turned away again, before whispering eagerly, “That’s a rediscovered treasure all right. It must be what Benjamin Franklin’s clue is talking about.”
“If I had an iPhone I could look it up and maybe find a picture or a description on-line. But seriously, Polly, I think Benjamin Franklin’s clue is the least of our worries right now.”
“True. We can research it when we get home. The Inspector may be back any minute now, so let’s get ready to get out of here at the first chance.”
While Chen turned to Plate XXXII and fitted his key into the hole in readiness, Polly kept watch on Sergeant McGregor and the other officers. “Ready?” she whispered, scanning the narrow Gothic interior, eyeing all the police, “Wait… Not yet… As soon as that one turns away… Now.”
Chen turned the key, opened the page just far enough to jump through, and held it for Polly to slip through behind him. He shut the Book firmly. Then he looked up and let out an involuntary yelp of terror.
XI. Out of the Frying Pan
Chen and Polly were standing in the thief’s study, and directly in front of them the thief himself had just leapt up from his chair at the table. For an instant all three of them stared at each other in shock. Then the thief took one stride toward Chen and seized his Book. Another swift step brought him to one of the shelves, where he snatched up a couple of pairs of handcuffs. Before Chen realized what was happening, he was handcuffed to the steel frame of the box for sawing a lady in half.
Polly made a grab for the Dragon Book, but the thief spun away, throwing it out of reach onto the far side of the table behind him and knocking Polly roughly to the floor with his shoulder. She flailed at him, but he held her down with his knee while locking her to the pipe of the old-fashioned radiator under the window.
“Oh, and I’ll have this, too,” he said, swiping Polly’s hip pouch. She managed to land a sharp kick to his shin, but he jumped back out of her reach, straightened his nondescript clothes, and returned to his table. While Chen and Polly watched helplessly, he unzipped the hip pouch and rummaged through Polly’s collection of necessities. “Kitty treats?” he exclaimed in disbelief, “Aha, here’s the key to the Book, at least, but no wallet? No cell phone?”
“I wish,” muttered Chen. “If I had a cell phone I’d have dialed 911 by now.”
All the same, the thief patted down both children’s pockets before he was satisfied that he’d left them with nothing. Polly took the opportunity to kick him again, and was slapped in the face.
Then the man returned to the table and picked up not only Chen’s Book, but also Polly’s Book, which he had apparently been studying when they’d come through the portal. He limped to the study door, but paused there to look the children over with evident satisfaction.
He held up the key he’d taken from Polly’s hip pouch, tossed it up and caught it in the palm of the same hand, and then opened his hand with a flourish to reveal that the key had vanished. With a smirk, he left the study. They heard the bolt click as he locked the door behind himself.
This was as bad as anything Chen had imagined. Indeed, his worry about being held by the Scottish police was now beginning to look like something worth wishing for. After all, the police presumably wouldn’t saw him in half, no matter how many crime scenes he trespassed in or how many strange and suspicious replies he gave to their interrogation.
“Not bad sleight-of-hand. I love that stuff,” Polly remarked, much more calmly than Chen felt, “But what I don’t understand is how we got here. I thought every time we went through a door we could return through the same door to the place we came from.”
Chen stared at her blankly for a moment, his mind occupied with what he considered a much more pressing issue: their immanent death. But after a moment’s thought, he groaned, “Oh no! It’s my fault; I totally messed up. We didn’t go back through the same door. We went to Scotland through the chapel door, but when I was trying to get away from the police I was flustered, and instead of opening that same chapel door again, I opened the door to the Wreath Book. I just assumed it would get us to your mom’s office where we left your Book!”