فصل 05

CHAPTER 5

REVILE’S REPORT

AT THE END OF AN ENDLESS HALLWAY on the third floor of Buckingham Palace was a room the servants knew better than to enter. The room was impressive—high ceiling, marble floors, gold-leaf furniture—but none of these features were visible now, for the room was also quite dark. Black velvet curtains covered the tall windows completely; the only light in the room came from a single flickering candle.

Simon Revile stood close to the candle, drawing what comfort he could from it. Revile was a short, stocky man with a remarkably toadlike face, his unnaturally wide mouth underscoring a flattened nose that separated his huge eyes, a bit too far apart.

Adding to the effect were Revile’s cauliflower ears, attached flat to his head like a pair of large dried apricots.

Revile knew he was unpleasant to look at. This did not trouble him. In fact, he enjoyed causing discomfort in others. He enjoyed even more causing fear, and pain. Especially pain.

At the moment, however, it was Revile who was uncomfortable, as he always was in this dark and drafty room—the lair of Baron von Schatten. Upon being summoned, Revile had, as always, let himself in, closed the door, then walked toward the candle. Now he stood by the tiny flame, his eyes darting about, trying to locate von Schatten. Revile knew he was lurking somewhere in the darkness.

“Have you something to report?”

Revile jumped at the voice, which sounded as though it came from the bottom of a deep well. Revile half-turned toward the sound, not wanting to look directly at the tall form of von Schatten, who stood only a few feet away, though he had made no sound approaching.

“Yes,” said Revile. “A coded dispatch from Belgium.”

“The Skeleton,” said von Schatten.

“Yes,” said Revile. “It seems he won the cooperation of a museum curator. The Skeleton is on his way to Aachen, on the German border.”

Revile, despite his discomfort, smiled, imagining what the Skeleton had done to the curator. Revile took great pleasure in the thought of other people’s pain.

“And the tip?” said von Schatten.

“He did not say. But I assume its recovery is imminent.”

“It had better be,” said von Schatten.

Out of the corner of his eye, Revile saw von Schatten shift position. He did this often. On those rare occasions when he stood still, his upper body moved in an odd manner, almost as if it were flickering, like the flame of the candle in front of Revile.

“The coronation date has been fixed for the twenty-sixth of June,” said von Schatten. “By then we must have the tip.”

“Yes, Baron.”

“And by then we must also reach the vault. What progress can you report on that effort?”

“It proceeds slowly, Baron. The rock—”

“It must go faster.”

“Yes, but the diggers are working to the point of exhaustion.”

“Then work them harder,” hissed von Schatten. Revile flinched, feeling von Schatten’s breath on his neck.

The breath was cold.

“Yes, Baron,” said Revile, inching forward, toward the security of the candle flame. Von Schatten would get only so close to the flickering light.

“If necessary, you will enlist more diggers,” said von Schatten.

“We’re doing that, Baron. In fact we enlisted one last night. The one you recognized here at the palace.”

“Good,” said von Schatten. “I shall visit him soon. Meanwhile, you will push the diggers harder. We must reach the vault before the coronation.”

“Yes, Baron,” said Revile, feeling, despite his fear, a spasm of pleasure at the thought of the pain he would inflict on the diggers.

“And you will remind our friend in Belgium of the urgency of his mission. The vault is useless to us without the tip.”

“Yes, Baron. I’ll send the dispatch immediately.” Revile, eager to escape, turned toward the door to go, only to find his path blocked by von Schatten, whose dark eyeglasses reflected the flickering candle flame.

“Do not disappoint me, Simon,” said von Schatten. “You would not want to disappoint me.” Von Schatten’s right hand reached out and touched Revile’s arm, and for an instant Revile felt the awful cold filling him. …

The tip and the vault by coronation day. It was von Schatten’s voice, but it came from inside Revile’s mind.

And then the hand pulled away, and the cold was gone. Revile almost cried out in relief.

“I won’t disappoint you, Baron,” he said, stumbling toward the door.

Yanking open the door, he stepped into the hallway and quickly closed the door behind him. Gasping for breath, he half walked, half ran away from von Schatten’s room, the unwelcome voice echoing in his mind.

The tip and the vault by coronation day.