Spirals

by Scott Bergin

Thomas sat down in the seat. Thomas was pleased to see that the car didn't have a telephone in it. He smiled at her, with his face covered in blood. Christine didn't know what to believe. The blood was most likely caused by the man's car accident, but that didn't explain his actions.

  "What happened to my mother?" Christine asked, her voice becoming more shaky.

  Thomas ignored her every word. He closed the door, and put the car in gear. At first, Thomas couldn't decide which way he had come from. He glanced over at the Volvo, and recalled instantly. This car was facing the wrong way.

  "What did you do to my mother?" Christine demanded.

  "I'll show you." Thomas replied.

  He drove the car twenty yards forward, then quickly spun it to the left. Thomas was careful not to give it too much gas. He didn't want to lose another car into the deep mud. He slammed on the brakes, and felt a couple of little bumps as the car slid only a foot or two off the side of the road. Thomas snickered, and pointed out her window.

  "Oops." He said. "Sorry about that mom."

  Christine looked out her window. The two bumps, she had just felt, were the car's front wheel driving over her mother's ankles. She stared in shock at her mother's corpse, face down in the mud, with the blade of a knife sticking out of her back. As Thomas started to drive away, the car bumped up and down again. The back wheels passed over her. Christine turned back to Thomas once they were moving. Thomas couldn't wait to hear what this little teenager would have to say about such a horrible thing. He was disappointed to find that she said nothing. All she did was scream. Her scream was loud and intolerable. Thomas immediately slammed on the brakes. Christine was caught by surprise, and by her seatbelt. Thomas gripped the steering wheel tightly. He turned to face her, and she fell silent with fear. Thomas shifted the car into neutral, freeing his whole body for the kill. He figured the best way to keep her quiet was to beat her senseless. Then, maybe snap her neck. Thomas forced his right hand behind her neck. Paralyzed with fear, Christine found it hard to move away. He grabbed the back of her neck tight. Thomas guessed that the best way to knock her out, was the dashboard. It might take a couple of shots, but it would eventually do the trick. He threw her forward as hard and fast as he could. What he had not counted on was the seatbelt. It was still taut. Christine hit the strap, and immediately fell over to her left. Thomas continued forcing her head forward, hoping it would strike the radio or some other solid object. When Christine's head passed underneath Thomas' right armpit, it struck. Thomas let go of her head, but it did not move. Christine twitched violently for several seconds, then stopped. Blood flowed steadily onto Thomas' seat. He grabbed Christine's hair, and tried to pull her head back. It wouldn't budge. Thomas leaden forward in his seat, and saw what the problem was. In forcing her head into the center console, Thomas had jammed the stick shift through her left eye socket. Her eye, and the stick shift, being forced back into her brain had apparently caused the twitching episode. Thomas was relieved that there would be no more screaming, but he knew that he couldn't drive like this. With both hand pulling on her hair, he was able to pop Christine's head back off the stick shift. He grabbed the front of her shirt, and untucked it. With the loose piece, he wiped off the brain fluid and blood. Thomas forced her body back behind the seatbelt, then continued driving north toward Chambord. He paid no further attention to Christine's body, but he became very mindful of the speed limits. Thomas didn't want to give the police any excuse to pull him over, not with the cargo he was now hauling.

  Chapter 59

  April 21

  2:45 a.m.

  Chambord, France

  Thomas pulled up next to the small tourist shop, next to the chateau's perimeter wall. He parked the silver BMW, and looked around. The lack of police relieved him. For part of the journey, he wondered if Alex might have already brought the police here to wait for him. Thomas wondered what the lack of police meant. It meant that Alex had definitely not gone on ahead of Gabrielle, which meant that he was most likely still in Nice. If that were true, he would soon find the body. Though, Thomas did not know if Gabrielle had already told Alex the location of the gem. If she had, the police would be descending on Chambord by first light. Even if she hadn't, the tourists would be descending on it by the same time. Thomas knew that he had only a few precious hours to locate the gem, and he did not know whether he would have such an opportunity again. Before getting out of the car, Thomas knew that he had to cover his tracks as best he could. The first thing he did, was to recline Christine's seat. He unbuckled her seatbelt, and flipped her onto her stomach. To anyone passing by, it would only look like a woman sleeping in her car. Thomas punched the overhead light, until it broke. He didn't want to make it too easy for a curious person to spot all the blood. Though, Thomas knew that he might be in more serious trouble once the sun rose. The last task that Thomas had to accomplish, was to destroy the extra copy of the diary page. Thomas waited a few seconds, and the lighter in the console popped back out. He removed it, and touched it to the corner of the photograph. The picture ignited instantly. Thomas threw it on the carpet at Christine's feet. The photo burned into an unrecognizable heap. It fused itself to the carpet, and Thomas decided not to burn himself in a vain effort to remove it. After another quick look around, Thomas opened the car door.

  The night air was cold and damp. Thomas looked up at the huge castle, and the near full moon beyond. The structure was so large, Thomas didn't know where to begin. He closed the door, and walked around to the rear of the car. Thomas opened the trunk, and removed his miner's helmet, pick axe and rope. He decided that he would come back for any additional supplies that he needed. After gently closing the trunk, Thomas began making his way toward the enormous chateau. As Thomas walked toward the castle, he found himself looking up the entire time. He completely ignored the ground, and almost walked into the moat. Thomas decided to walk around the castle before entering it. He walked to the back of the castle, and froze. The sight of the chateau in the unclouded moonlight was magnificent. Thomas was glad that he had killed Christine. It meant that he could be sure he was having to share this view with no one. The thought of having to watch such splendor with another person, was enough to spoil Thomas' joyous mood.

  Thomas approached the back door of the castle. He was all set to pry it open with the pick axe, or scale the wall with the rope. All that was unnecessary, the door was not locked. Thomas imagined himself as a spy sneaking into the castle hundreds of years earlier. The thought was spoiled as soon as the door was opened. At the far end of the courtyard was a workman's van. Thomas was so upset by the sight, that he immediately ran up to the van. The pick axe struck each tire with the same force. Within thirty seconds, all four tires went flat. Satisfied, he walked on. Thomas looked around, for a choice place to begin his search. He wished that he could have a set of blueprints to the castle. They would make his search so much easier. Thomas spotted scaffolding along parts of the roof. Realizing what the work van was doing there, he began to wonder if it might contain a set of blueprints. It was a long shot, but it was still a shot.

  The van's back door creaked and buckled under the pressure of the pick axe. Thomas adjusted its position between the doors, and began pulling again. The lock popped, and the door swung open. Thomas clicked on the light on his miner's helmet, and looked into the van. Most of what was in the van was stone. There were a few assorted tools along the floor beside the large square stones. Thomas dropped the pick axe, and the rope, and climbed into the van. Then, he slowly made his way into the front of the van. A small case sat on the floor in front of the passenger seat. It was some kind of small lock box. He picked it up, and placed it on the seat. The lid flipped open, and revealed some workman's forgotten lunch. From the smell of it, the lunch was several days old. He tossed the box back onto the floor. Thomas opened the driver's door, and climbed out of the van.

  "Worthless." Thomas muttered, kicking the flattened tire.

  He walked back around the van, and picked up
his pick axe and the rope. Thomas slung them over his right shoulder, and returned his attention to the castle's skyline. Not knowing where to begin, Thomas took out the original page. He shined his helmet's light down on it, and examined it again.

  To my friend, the Salamander:

  Place this, my greatest gem where

  the four are one. I fear that I will

  not have that chance.

  Leonardo Da Vinci

  "Four are one." Thomas mumbled.

  He returned his attention to the castle's roof. Thomas could see many of the castles' three hundred sixty five peeks. He continued to stare upward, confused.

  "Which four?" He mumbled.

  Thomas looked back at the page. It provided no answers. He felt like tearing the page to shreds, but he resisted. What if Gabrielle had been wrong? What if she had been looking in the wrong place? He knew that she couldn't have been trying to mislead him. She hadn't noticed that he was there when she was talking to herself. Thomas began to question her intelligence. He wanted to kill her all over again, only this time more slowly. He closed his eyes, and in his mind, he did. Thomas opened his eyes, and clicked off the light on his miner's helmet. When he did, he heard the hum of a car's engine. The noise came from where he had left his car. Thomas quickly ran out the back of the castle. He looked over at the parking area, two hundred yards away. A black Mercedes came to a stop within forty feet of where Thomas had left the BMW. A man slowly opened the driver's door, and stumbled out. The man seemed to have trouble walking. Eventually, he made his way down a sidewalk that lead to a nearby cottage. The man disappeared behind thick bushes, and Thomas wiped the nervous sweat from his brow. The man was obviously a drunken caretaker for the castle. Thomas was thankful for where he had left the BMW. The drunk didn't have to walk anywhere near it. He doubted if the drunk man even noticed the car. Thomas walked back through the rear door of the castle. He suddenly realized that he now had the run of the place. There were no guards, no police, and no one else could stop him. His greatest worry was a drunken caretaker who just returned from the pub, and the caretaker's only interest was probably passing out.

  Thomas walked past the van with four flat tires, and entered the castle's main structure. Even with the moon as bright as it was, the chateau was still very dark inside. Thomas turned the light on his miner's helmet back on again. He placed the rope on the floor, just inside the doorway. If he found some purpose for fifty feet of climbing rope, he could always return for it. With the pick axe still slung over his right shoulder, Thomas began to wander around the inside of the castle. As he walked, he continued to glance down at the page. As if, somehow the page would do something magical when he passed over the gem. Thomas remained mindful of the parking area. From time to time he tried to listen for further noise. He heard none. He decided to look out at the parking area, once he eventually made his way to the castle's roof. The roof seemed to be the best place to start, so Thomas slowly began ascending the nearest staircase. As he climbed, Thomas felt compelled to stop off at each floor and give it a quick once over. After each excursion, Thomas returned to the same central staircase.

  Chapter 60

  April 21

  3:05 a.m.

  Chambord, France

  Alex remained hidden in the bushes for several minutes. He was certain that the silver BMW belonged to Thomas. The phony drunk stumbling over to the cottage had been a last minute improvisation. When Alex was sure the coast was clear, he made his way around the back of the cottage, and to the opposite side of the parking area. Alex snuck up behind the silver car. He looked in the rear passenger door. The girl laying in the reclined seat was no older than sixteen. In the bright moonlight, he could see that she was dead. Her eye socket facing the ceiling was empty. Dried blood covered a substantial portion of her young face. Alex had no doubt about who had done this to her. It confirmed what he had already guessed at. Thomas LaRue was here. He didn't know how Gabrielle had known where Thomas would be heading, but she had.

  Alex cautiously made his way around to the back of the chateau. The brilliant moon provided more than enough light for him to see by. In fact, it provided too much. Anyone inside the castle could easily see him as well. Realizing this, Alex darted toward the castle wall. Once he reached it, he somehow felt safer. Alex continued walking along the outside of the castle wall, until he reached the back door. Not surprisingly, it was open. Peering through, Alex saw nothing unusual. He stepped into the courtyard. Ahead of him sat a workman's van. Alex walked toward it. The van's back door had been ripped apart, and all of its tires were flat.

  "Did the idiot really expect to find Da Vinci's treasure in the back of a modern van?" Alex mumbled, no louder than a whisper.

  Alex chose to ignore the van. Instead, he walked into the main area of the castle. He was astounded by what he saw. Light flickered from high above him. Thomas was using a flashlight. Finding him just got remarkably easier. Thomas was obviously not expecting anyone to be following him. Alex wished that he had a weapon. He could not look forward to facing Thomas without one. His only weapon was surprise. Alex took one step forward, while staring at the rapidly moving beam of light. He looked down, to see what he was tripping on, and spotted a perfectly wound coil of climbing rope. Throwing the rope over his shoulder, Alex walked closer toward the light. Thomas was almost two stories above him, up a spiral staircase. Alex quietly kicked off his shoes, and ran up the stairs. He reached the roof within a minute. When he looked back down the staircase, Thomas was still coming up. Yet, Alex had never passed him. All at once, Alex grasped what had happened. The spiral staircase he had just climbed was not the same one Thomas was climbing. There were two separate staircases wrapped around one another, in a giant double helix. Alex knew that there was only one man who could have designed such a staircase five hundred years ago, Leonardo Da Vinci. He walked around to where the second staircase reached the roof, and looked down. The center of the two staircases was a hollow shaft. Even with the moon as bright as it was, Alex could not see the floor far below. What he could see, through one of the shaft's many windows, was Thomas' position. He was nearing the roof by the second. Alex pulled himself back from the stone banister that overlooked the stairwell. He stepped back out the doorway, and onto the roof.

  "Think." Alex mumbled to himself in a panic-stricken voice. "Think."

  Alex scanned the nearby area. All along this portion of the roof was scaffolding, and not one place to hide. Alex had been planning on the element of surprise. Without a good hiding place, he feared he would quickly lose that. Suddenly, Thomas' light beamed up the stairway, striking the wall beside Alex, just inside the doorway leading to the roof. Looking up at the scaffolding above the doorway, Alex got his idea. He wondered if there would be enough time to put his plan into action. As quietly as he could, Alex climbed up the scaffolding. Once he was ten feet off the ground, he made his way over the doorway. Alex found a board laying on the scaffolding. He gently placed the rope onto the board. Bracing his back up against the metal poles of the structure, Alex managed to free up both his hands. He guessed that his full arms length was about six feet. Alex measured out twelve feet of rope. He tied the rope to the metal crossbeam, at the twelve-foot marker. The rest of the rope still sat coiled on the board. Making his way to the outside of the scaffolding, Alex dragged the twelve feet of rope with him. He quickly tied the end of the rope into the largest knot he could.

  Thomas' light shined out the doorway. He was at the top of the stairs. Alex realized that he had wasted too much time. He could not check the length of the rope. If the rope turned out to be too long, Alex would break his leg landing on the castle roof. Too short, and he would slam into the castle wall above the doorway. If he attempted to lower the rope, Thomas would surely see it. Thomas would then simply climb the rope, and use whatever weapon he had. Alex decided to risk it all. He stood on the knot, at the outer edge of the platform. When Thomas walked underneath him, Alex would simply hop off. If his measurements were
good, he would swing straight into Thomas. Hopefully, Thomas would be knocked out by the blow, and would drop his weapon. Alex could then step off the rope, and retrieve Thomas' weapon.

  Thomas stepped through the doorway, and onto the roof. He paused, and looked around. Alex adjusted himself on the scaffolding, positioning Thomas below him. The metal bar creaked, and shifted. Thomas looked up instantly, and spotted Alex. He reached for his knife, then remembered leaving it in the woman's body by the side of the road. Alex did the only thing he could. He held the rope tightly, and hopped off the scaffolding. The rope stretched out in front of Thomas. Alex's downward momentum shifted, and he swung feet first at Thomas. He struck Thomas so hard, that he lifted him off the ground and sent him backward five feet through the air. Thomas' helmet fell from his head, immediately upon impact. He didn't land, until he was back inside the chateau, at the top of the spiral staircase. He staggered, and tried to catch his balance. It was too late. Thomas hit the stone banister, overlooking the stairwell's hollow shaft, and fell backward over it. As he fell, he finally let go of the pick axe. Alex heard the bone shattering landing. He stepped off the rope, and ran to the stairwell's edge. As he looked down into the darkness, he knew that Thomas was dead. Still, he had to be absolutely sure. Alex looked around for Thomas' flashlight.

  On the roof lay a miner's helmet, with its light still on. Alex approached it. He picked up the helmet, and looked around. There was nothing else on the roof, so Alex returned to the spiral staircase. He held the helmet out over the stone banister, and shined it down. Alex felt sick to his stomach, as soon as he realized what he was staring at. Thomas lay on his back, with his legs bent underneath his body. They were probably broken in several places. A large spike of some kind stuck straight out from Thomas' chest. One of his hands was impaled on the stake as well. The other lay flat on the floor beside him. In that hand, Alex could see a very old piece of paper. Alex recognized it immediately. It was the original page from Leonardo Da Vinci's diary.