‘Reminds me of a documentary I saw about hoarders,’ said Annie.
I nodded slowly. ‘It’s as though Hammer doesn’t care about anything once he’s acquired it.’
‘That’s collectors for you,’ said Johnny. ‘For a lot of them, it’s all about the thrill of the chase. And owning things to make sure your rivals can’t have them.’
I held the compass out before me, following the pointing needle, and the crew stuck close behind me.
‘We’re going to have to search through a hell of a lot of stuff to find the television,’ said Annie. ‘How much time do we have, Gideon?’
‘No one knows we’re down here,’ I said. ‘So we don’t have to worry about security. But the route back out, as described in the book, is only good for a certain period.’
‘Maybe we should walk faster,’ said Annie.
‘Didn’t the book say where to look for the television?’ said Lex, scowling darkly about him.
‘No,’ I said. ‘It must have been on one of the missing pages.’
‘The ones that were deliberately torn out?’ said Annie.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m starting to think there are things about this heist that the original Sable didn’t want us to know. Because if we did, we wouldn’t dare try.’
Hammer’s treasure vault turned out to be even bigger than the museum above it and packed with a lifetime’s acquisition of everything strange under the sun and the moon. The crew kept wanting to pause and examine things, but I kept them moving, until Johnny stopped suddenly and refused to be moved.
‘What is it?’ said Lex.
‘It’s this place!’ said Johnny, clapping his hands over his ears. ‘It’s full of voices, all of them shouting at once!’
‘I don’t hear anything,’ Lex said carefully. ‘There’s no one here but us, Johnny.’
‘It’s the collection!’ said Johnny. ‘I can’t hear myself think for all the noise they’re making.’
‘Concentrate,’ said Lex. ‘Remember, you don’t have to let anything inside your head that you don’t want there.’
Johnny nodded, breathing hard, and after a moment he lowered his hands and we moved on. But there were always some things we just had to stop and look at.
A window hovered in mid-air, showing a Venusian landscape in what looked like real time. The sky was yellow and the mountains were purple, and all the proportions and angles were subtly and horribly wrong. Something made out of thorns scuttled across a bare plain in search of shelter.
A little further on, we came to an old-fashioned electric chair. Its dangling leather restraints were frayed and worn, and there were burn marks everywhere. The Ghost stood before it, frowning thoughtfully.
‘What’s the matter?’ I said, trying hard to sound patient.
‘This chair is surrounded by the spirits of those who died in it,’ said the Ghost. ‘It seems Hammer acquired them when he collected the chair, and now he won’t let them go. They’re very angry about that.’
He started forward, but Johnny stopped him with a hand on his immaterial arm. The Ghost looked at him with something like shock.
‘Those are really unquiet spirits,’ said Johnny. ‘You don’t want anything to do with them.’
‘I have to try to help,’ said the Ghost.
‘They won’t thank you for it.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ said the Ghost.
He started speaking quietly to people only he could see, and we moved on and left him to it.
Johnny was the next to get distracted, by a human-sized puppet of Mr Punch tap-dancing endlessly in a corner. His carved wooden face was twisted by the usual rictus grin, and his eyes were full of all the malice in the world. Johnny nodded quickly, as though in response to something only he could hear, and went to talk to the puppet, shrugging off Lex’s hand when he tried to stop him. They danced together, the Wild Card and the avatar of chaos, and what they had to say to each other was best not overheard.
Lex ended up standing before a huge old-fashioned freezer cabinet, held shut by several lengths of steel chain and some very heavy padlocks. He looked at me.
‘Open them.’
‘We’re not going to find a television set inside a freezer,’ I said.
‘But we might find an immortality drug,’ said Lex. ‘Open it.’
I did the business with the skeleton key, and all the padlocks sprang open. Lex ripped the chains away and then hauled open the heavy door to reveal shelves packed with bottles and phials, and a number of human body parts inside carefully labelled plastic bags. The eyes of a famous painter, the hands of a legendary guitarist, and something not entirely unexpected from a very well-known male porn star.
‘I suppose there are all kinds of collectibles,’ I said. ‘Hey, Ghost …’
He was already standing beside me when I turned round, looking distinctly upset.
‘Those were very unpleasant spirits. There’s never any call for that kind of language. What do you want, Gideon?’
‘Are there are any ghosts connected to these bits and pieces?’ I said. ‘Anyone you could talk to?’
‘There’s nobody here,’ said the Ghost. ‘This is just what the dead left behind.’
And then he wandered off again.
‘Why did you want to know that?’ Annie said to me.
‘If there were any spirits here,’ I said, ‘trapped by Hammer along with their remains, we might have been able to find a way to break them loose.’
Annie smiled. ‘There’s hope for you yet.’
Lex frowned at the rows and rows of bottles and potions. ‘I’m not seeing the Santa Clara Formulation anywhere. Or anything that even looks like it might be an immortality drug.’
‘Can we please not get distracted?’ I said. ‘Find the television first, fill our pockets later.’
Lex nodded reluctantly and slammed the freezer door shut. I looked over to where Johnny was holding the limp and lifeless figure of Mr Punch in his arms. The rictus in the wooden face had turned into a scream of horror. I wondered what Johnny had told him. Johnny dropped the puppet carelessly to the floor and came back to join us.
‘Now, that is how you do it,’ he said calmly.
On we went, pressing deeper into the labyrinth. We passed a ten-gallon bottle of tequila, where the worm was so big it filled half the bottle. It slowly turned its bulging head to watch us pass, dreaming in its alcohol sea.
‘I wonder what it would taste like?’ said Johnny.
‘The tequila or the worm?’ said Lex.
Johnny grinned. ‘Both.’
‘You are an animal,’ Lex said sadly.
Something had been turned inside out and nailed to a display stand. It was still living, still moving. The smell was appalling.
‘Why would Hammer want something like that?’ said Johnny.
‘He’s always been attracted to suffering,’ said Lex.
‘Do you think this was human, originally?’ said Annie, staring at the horrid thing with fascinated eyes.
‘Hard to tell,’ I said. ‘I don’t recognize any part of it. Is there a sign?’
‘No,’ said Lex. ‘I suppose Hammer didn’t need to be reminded of what this is.’
‘Can we kill it?’ said Annie. ‘Put it out of its misery?’
‘How?’ I said. ‘If doing that wasn’t enough to kill it, I don’t know what would be.’
‘We can always try something with fire, on the way back,’ said Lex. ‘The more I see of Hammer’s vault, the more I want to burn the whole place down.’
‘Let’s wait until we’re all out of here first,’ said Annie.
Lex smiled briefly. ‘Just for you.’
The Ghost came wandering back, and Annie gestured at the inside-out thing.
‘Is this the not-dead-not-alive presence you were talking about earlier?’
‘No,’ said the Ghost. ‘What I sensed was much worse.’
My heart almost missed a beat when we rounded the next co
rner and came face to face with the renowned gentleman adventurer, Dominic Knight. Cool and elegant as always, he’d been stuffed and mounted and carefully posed, like a scarecrow in an immaculate tuxedo.
‘How did he come to be here?’ said Annie.
‘He was shot in the back at the auction,’ I said. ‘Hammer didn’t waste any time collecting him.’
‘This is how we’ll all end up if they catch us here,’ said Annie.
‘Speak for yourself,’ said the Ghost.
The path suddenly opened out into a clearing, just big enough to hold a menagerie of carefully preserved creatures. A large white horse, with widespread feathered wings. A unicorn, with a long scrolled horn jutting from its forehead. And a manticore, complete with lion’s mane and a scorpion’s sting that curved over its back. They all smelled strongly of spices and chemicals, and a chill ran through me when I realized they’d all been given the same glass eyes.
‘Hammer killed all these wonderful creatures?’ said Annie, her voice thick with outrage.
‘I doubt he did it himself,’ said Lex. ‘You’d need a specialist to track creatures this rare.’
‘And the only reason Hammer would want them is if they were the last of their kind,’ said the Ghost. ‘This is so sad.’
‘Hammer has had any number of people killed,’ said Lex. ‘Including you.’
‘But I don’t matter,’ said the Ghost. ‘I never mattered to anyone. These were marvels of the age, put on the earth to inspire us. This is like setting fire to a masterpiece, just so you can warm your hands at the flames. It’s more than a crime; it’s a sin.’
‘Save your conscience for the living,’ said Lex.
‘Can you see their spirits, Ghost?’ said Annie. ‘Is that why you’re so upset?’
He shook his head. ‘No. At least Hammer only got their bodies. These spirits of the wild gave up the ghost long ago.’
‘Try to hold it together, people,’ I said.
I followed the compass needle through yet more narrow passageways, under towering stacks of the weird and the wonderful, until, finally, we found the television. It stood alone, at the end of a cul-de-sac, a big and bulky old-fashioned set, from the days when the tube took up most of the interior. There was even a heavy wooden surround to help it blend in with the rest of the furniture.
‘We had a set like this when I was a child,’ Johnny said delightedly. ‘It always took ages to warm up.’
‘No remote control,’ said Annie. ‘Just a dial to change the channel, and a few switches.’
‘I’m getting that not-dead-not-alive feeling again,’ said the Ghost. ‘Really strongly now.’
‘You think it’s connected to the set?’ said Lex.
‘It must be,’ said the Ghost. ‘Though I can’t see how.’
Annie studied the television carefully, front and back, while being very careful not to touch anything.
‘It’s not plugged in,’ she said finally. ‘How are we supposed to test it and make sure it works? Judi Rifkin said she wouldn’t pay out a penny unless we could show the thing working, right in front of her.’
‘Can’t you charm the set into turning itself on?’ I said.
Annie frowned. ‘I should be able to. But whatever’s inside is no technology I’m familiar with.’
I tried the on switch, and the screen glowed pleasantly but remained blank. I tried changing the channel, but it made no difference.
‘Shouldn’t there be an aerial?’ said Lex.
‘I don’t think it’s that kind of television,’ said Johnny.
‘How do we get it to show us a particular period?’ said Annie.
‘Ask it nicely?’ said Johnny.
I cleared my throat and addressed the television. ‘What’s happening outside the museum right now?’
The screen immediately showed a view of the cavern floor, still littered with bits and pieces from all the golem guards we’d blown up. It took me a moment to realize we were viewing the scene from above – and a lot higher up than the pylons with their surveillance cameras could have managed. So whose viewpoint were we seeing? I turned the set off.
‘That’s enough. We know it works, and that’s all that matters. Getting it to do what Judi wants is Judi’s problem. Let’s get the set out of here.’
‘It’ll take all of us to carry something that big and awkward,’ said Annie. ‘And how are we supposed to manoeuvre it through the museum if we have to keep dodging back and forth again?’
Lex picked up the television with no visible effort and stuck it under one arm.
‘Now, that is some serious showing off,’ said Johnny.
Lex frowned suddenly, looked at the set and put it down again. ‘Something about this feels wrong. How is the television supposed to work? What powers it?’
‘There’s nothing in Sable’s journal about that,’ I said.
‘I’m starting to think there isn’t any technology inside that set,’ said Annie.
‘It was created by a priest,’ said the Ghost. ‘Maybe it runs on prayers.’
‘You still believe in things like that?’ said Johnny. ‘You sweet, sentimental old spirit.’
The Ghost looked at him coldly. ‘Your knowledge of this world might be extensive, but it’s still only this world. There is more.’
‘Prove it,’ said Johnny.
The rest of us tensed, remembering the way the Ghost scared off the poltergeist attack dogs, but he just smiled easily at Johnny.
‘You’re asking a dead man to explain the mysteries of life?’
Johnny sniffed loudly and turned his attention back to the television. ‘Maybe there’s nothing inside it apart from a big crystal ball.’
‘We don’t need to know how it works,’ I said. ‘We’re just here to steal it.’
‘I think it does matter,’ said Lex. ‘I’m feeling … something.’
‘If I still had a body, I think I’d have goose pimples,’ said the Ghost. He knelt down before the set. ‘All right, let’s have a look inside you and see what’s going on.’
He thrust his head through the screen and then immediately jerked it back out again. Shocked and outraged, he rose quickly to his feet, pointing a shaking finger at the television.
‘You really need to see what’s inside that! Lex, break it open!’
Lex grabbed hold of both sides of the set and tried to pull them apart, but the heavy wooden surround resisted him. So he armoured his hands in light and darkness, and tore the television apart as though it was made of paper. And inside there was nothing but a severed human head, still alive and aware.
It was a man’s head, with a handsome face that seemed familiar, though I couldn’t quite place it. The eyes were sad and wise. He smiled at all of us and began to speak in a low calm voice.
‘Hello, at last, my dear friends. Lex Talon, who believes himself the Damned. Believe in God, Lex, even if you can’t believe in yourself. There is mercy and forgiveness. Johnny Wilde, who thinks he knows the truth but still has trouble telling one illusion from another. Annie Anybody, who has to be so many people, because she’s afraid to be herself. The Ghost, who could move on if he really wanted to. And, of course, the man who became Gideon Sable, so he could go back to being who he used to be.
‘Thieves and outlaws, all hoping to be better than they are. Welcome. I’ve been expecting you.’
‘Who are you?’ I said.
‘I am Angelo Montini.’
We all knew that name. The man who could work miracles and performed good works wherever he went. So popular and revered there was a call to make him the Vatican’s first living saint.
‘You disappeared,’ said Annie.
‘No,’ said Angelo. ‘That’s not what happened.’
Annie and I looked at each other, remembering the knucklebones we saw at the auction.
‘Hammer killed you?’ I said. ‘Why would he want to kill a living saint?’
‘Because he’s Hammer,’ said Lex. ‘I killed two angels for that m
an.’
‘No,’ said Angelo in his calm, steady voice. ‘That’s not how I died.’
‘I’m sorry we didn’t recognize you at first,’ said Annie.
He smiled. ‘That’s all right. You’re not seeing me at my best.’
‘So Hammer had you kidnapped and then killed?’ I said.
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Angelo. ‘My death is one of the few crimes that cannot be laid at his door. It all started when the Vatican sent a very respected academic priest to prepare me for canonization. Cardinal Rossini, a devout little man, who only wanted to live in peace with his God, as he saw Him. Chosen for his conservative, old-fashioned views, so that if there was any doctrinal reason why I couldn’t be sainted, Rossini would be sure to find it. But he came looking for evidence of heresy, of deviation from the true faith. He wasn’t prepared to deal with a very different problem. That I had no interest in being a saint.
‘The Cardinal was profoundly shocked when he discovered I had no special faith in God. Not even after I discovered I could perform miracles. I lived a normal, healthy life. I loved my food and my wine and my fast cars, and my women … So many lovely women. I like to think I was a good man, and I did try to help wherever I could, but I was still only a man.
‘The Vatican already knew that; they’d put a lot of effort into hiding it from the world’s media. That’s why they sent the Cardinal, hoping he’d come up with some doctrinal reason why they wouldn’t have to make a man like me a saint. But they should have warned Rossini, instead of just dropping him in the deep end. He was so horrified by what he found that he took matters into his own hands.
‘He thought that if the truth got out, it would make his beloved Church a laughing stock. So Rossini said he had a few more questions for me, and when I turned up at his hotel, he invited me inside and stabbed me through the heart. If I’d suspected anything, I think I might have been able to heal even a wound like that, but I never saw it coming.’
He stopped speaking, and we all stared at him for a long while.
‘So … how did you end up as a television set?’ I said finally.
The Best Thing You Can Steal Page 18