Double Vision (21 page)

“A PICTURE OF A CAT MEANS ‘A KIND
lady lives here' the book claims,” Françoise said. “I don't know who that is, but maybe that lady has our next clue.”

“You think maybe the
N
and
W
are her initials?”

“Maybe. Whatever it means, we have to go to the Louvre.” Françoise rushed around the cave, blowing out the candles, before she went through the tunnel that led back to the Vault. I had to rush to catch up with her, or I would be left in the dark. Literally.

“Should we bring your da Vinci collection back into the Vault?” I asked. That stuff had to be worth millions.

Françoise hesitated, but shook her head. “It's safer where it is right now.”

“Do you think this kind lady at the Louvre is a friend of your father's?” I asked as we pushed the bookcases back to cover the tunnel entrance. “Do you know anybody he might know, like somebody with the initials
NW
?”

“I don't think so,” Françoise answered. I followed her out of the Vault.

“Norah or Natalie or something?”

“No. I don't know, okay?”

As we came upstairs to the bakery, I was grateful for the daylight. This underground tunnel system was really cool and adventurous, but there was something to be said for being able to breathe fresh air. Françoise's grandma was still outside, busy talking to some guys in uniform, there to replace the glass.

“Let's get to the Louvre,” Françoise said, tossing me my backpack. Dad's compass knocked against my arm.

Then I thought of something. “What if
NW
aren't initials?” I said, pulling Françoise's arm. “What if it's a location, like on a compass?”

“Northwest?”

“Yeah.”

Françoise thought about that for a moment. “I guess we'll start at the northwest part of the Louvre.”

“Now we're getting somewhere.” I was feeling pretty smart right about then.

Françoise took off from the Mégère bakery at her usual fast pace, and I was glad I had my skateboard at the ready. Together, we almost knocked a few tourists off their feet, but we made it to the Louvre by eleven.

Eleven o'clock
. I was supposed to be at the Princesse in an hour, packed and ready to go home. I pictured Albert Black, waiting by the cab to take us to the airport. He'd be seriously miffed.

My compass knocked against my back, reminding me why I was here.

Find the evil
Mona Lisa
. Save Grandpa. Françoise and I were so close, I could feel it. That cab would just have to wait.

The Louvre Museum was a big palace. The U-shaped building looked a lot like someone had taken a bunch of mansions and lined them up, with a large plaza and a fountain. There was a statue of a guy on a horse, and behind it, a glass pyramid that looked totally out of place. The entry was busy with tourists, lining up to get inside the museum.

We stood in line for a while to get inside the pyramid. First, we took an escalator down to the giant lobby, which was crammed full of people, almost as bad as the chickens in the barn at the Johnson farm.

Françoise rushed to this machine where she bought us both a ticket before I could give her money. Security made me turn in my backpack and skateboard, but I managed to tuck the Double Detector in my cargo pants' pocket.

I turned around and tried to keep up with Françoise as she rushed down a hall in an ocean of tourists. Apparently, she knew where she was going.

But then I heard a voice in the crowd that chilled me like the Lompoc morning fog.

“Over here!”

It was Drake. “Françoise, Lincoln!” He stood there with his arms spread wide, like he was oh so happy to see us.

Françoise froze.

“These are my children, finally!” Drake said over his shoulder. There was a tour guide and about a dozen tourists, looking impatient. “Come, children.” He wrapped his arms around our shoulders, clamping me tight with his evil fingers.

I was stuck.

Drake let go of me and pretended to look for something in his jacket's inside breast pocket. “I have a knife pointed right at the girl,” he hissed in my ear. “You move, she's dead.”

I SWALLOWED. FRANÇOISE STOOD FROZEN
.
I wanted to reach over and punch her uncle for arranging Grandpa's abduction. But I couldn't. Not while he had Françoise at knifepoint.

“I need that painting,” Drake hissed. “My buyer is coming for it at one o'clock. I have to deliver.”

“Or what?” I was dumb enough to ask.

“Or I'm dead. But you will go first.” In other words: we were stuck playing along with this crazy man.

My phone rang.

“Turn that off!” The tour guide lady snapped. Definitely not the nice lady we were hoping to find.

I silenced the phone. It was probably Agent Stark or Albert Black, wondering why I wasn't at the hotel. Or maybe it was that bad guy who had Grandpa. I itched to know.

Françoise and I followed along with Drake at the back of the group. “Did you really think I wouldn't find you here?” he hissed into Françoise's ear. “Did you think I was stupid enough to believe your story about the vacation home after you abandoned your father on the plane? You know, it wasn't difficult to figure the evil
Mona Lisa
might be hidden here. Jacques always liked to play games, and what better way to hide something than in plain sight.”

Françoise was silent.

“I know my brother,” Drake added with a smug smile.

“Now we move onwaaaard …” Tour Guide Lady droned on. You could tell she did this tour something like a hundred times a day, because she sounded like a robot.

“So where is it, hmmmm?” Drake hissed in my ear now.

“I don't know,” I said loudly. “I'm just here for the tour, man, so shhhh.” That got me a jab from his gnarly elbow.

“Monsieur,” Tour Guide Lady called with a sourpuss face, eyebrows raised. “Please keep your children quiet.” Some irritated tour people added a dirty glare.

“Yes, mademoiselle,” Drake said with a smile.

I glanced around the big room full of fancy oil paintings. There were guards at both doors, sensors for the paintings. I could reach over and pull one of the paintings down or something, but that would just get me arrested. Then Drake would pretend he was my dad, and we'd be right back where we started.

I needed a diversion.

“And here we have the painting everyone wants to see: the
Mona Lisa
,” Tour Guide Lady said. “She is also known as la Joconde and was painted in the sixteenth century by the famous Leonardo da Vinci.”

I felt Drake perk up. “There she is,” he mumbled, mesmerized by the small painting behind the glass shield. This was it? The painting was so small. We moved closer, which wasn't easy. Dozens of tourists were crammed around it.

“The lady is missing her eyebrows. It is believed that hundreds of years ago, someone attempted to clean the painting and accidentally rubbed them off.” That got some mumbling from our tour group. “In 2005, the
Mona Lisa
was given her own room—as you can see, she needs her space.” Tour Guide Lady chuckled at her own joke.

Drake licked his lips. “Is that it? Did my brother swap this
Mona Lisa
with the evil one from the Vault?” he hissed in Françoise's ear. But she didn't respond.

Not that she had to. It didn't take a genius to figure out that with all the security surrounding the
Mona Lisa
, it was impossible to get near her, let alone swap it with another painting. And there were no hypnotized, homicidal people floating around the Louvre.

I didn't need my Double Detector to know that this wasn't the evil
Mona Lisa
.

But Drake lingered anyway, even when our tour moved along. “What did you do, Jacques …?”

“Why don't you ask
him
?” I said, still desperately looking for a way out. I needed some sort of commotion so Françoise and I could make a run for it. “Don't you still have your brother chained to a chair somewhere?”

Drake tensed up next to me, digging his fingers even deeper into my flesh.

And I realized, “Jacques Mégère got away, didn't he?”

Drake didn't answer, but his expression confirmed my suspicions. This was good—now Drake didn't have that to threaten Françoise with anymore. Françoise perked up.

“How about my grandpa, huh?” I asked just a little too loud.

“And we move along,” Tour Guide Lady squawked near the doorway, giving me the evil eye. “I know she can be hypnotizing, but it's time to go. You can always buy a nice reproduction in our gift shop.”

You have no idea how hypnotizing she can really be, lady, I wanted to say. But Tour Guide Lady was right about one thing: it was time to go. I looked at her and at the doorway she stood in.

And I had an idea of something I could do, a lever I could pull. One I'd wanted to pull my whole life—and you know you've always wanted to do it, too. This was no chicken farm, and this lever wouldn't send feathers flying, but it sure would give Françoise and me a chance to get free.

I pushed away from Drake, rushed across the room.

And I couldn't help but smile at Tour Guide Lady when I reached out for the red lever and pulled the fire alarm.

THE NOISE WAS LIKE AN EXPLOSION
happened. Screaming. A wailing alarm. People were shouting and pushing. Gates crashing down to protect the paintings—I had unleashed chaos in the Louvre. This was a new kind of crazy, even for me. But there was no time to stand around to admire my Linc disaster, much as I wanted to. Françoise pulled away from Drake, and without saying a word, we both ran. I didn't look back as we rushed through halls filled with confused people. I could only hope that we were faster than Drake. It was time to scram.

“This way,” Françoise said, rushing to the right, until we came to the spiral staircase. We hurried down and back up again on the escalator, pushing past people where we could. “Come on!”

As we left the glass pyramid, I saw Drake down below, getting on the escalator. “Don't stop running!” I yelled at Françoise. “He's right behind us!” It took all my strength just to keep up with Françoise.

“Come on!” she called over her shoulder, taking one of the side streets.

I looked back and couldn't see Drake. But I knew he had to be right on our heels. We raced down the Paris streets. The cobblestones made me trip a few times, but I didn't stop. Honestly, I knew that if I did, I'd lose Françoise.

After what seemed like forever, she reached a manhole cover that she lifted with ease. The tunnels, of course! I followed her down into the hole and covered it as fast as I could. Then we made our way down the metal ladder and into the tunnel, where Françoise finally slowed down. Which was a good thing. My lungs were exploding.

“Do you think he saw us?” I asked, breathing heavy.

Françoise seemed unaffected by our sprint out of the Louvre and through central Paris. She shrugged. “Only if he's fast.”

I nodded and followed her down the tunnel. “Where are we going?”

She stopped. “I don't know. I suppose we can simply wait here awhile for my uncle to leave.”

“And go back?”

“The painting is there, I'm sure of it now.” Her eyes were like fire, like the dragon painting in the cave. “The evil
Mona Lisa
is somewhere in the museum we're not thinking of. Maybe it's this kind lady who knows where the painting is.”

And suddenly, I remembered something from our tour. “Do you remember what the tour guide said?”

Françoise gave me a look. “I wasn't exactly paying attention. The knife was more pressing.”

I felt great. See, I may not look like I'm learning much when I'm in class or on a field trip or on a tour of the Louvre with a bad guy—but I do. Stuff seeps into my brain anyway. Like that offhanded joke the tour guide had made. “She said that you can buy a reproduction, a fake version of the paintings, in the gift shop.”

Françoise's face lit up. “That would be the kind of thing Papa would do: hide it in plain sight. Just like my uncle said.”

“So where is the gift shop?”

“There are several,” Françoise said. “But for the replicas, you have to go to the lobby under the glass pyramid, on the lower ground floor. Wait—that's on the northwest side of the pyramid,” she said with a grin.

We hurried out of the tunnel and up to the surface.

“Look,” I said as we made our way through Paris. I pulled the Double Detector from my cargo pants' pocket. “Henry made a gadget that can detect the evil
Mona Lisa
.”

“The twenty point two degree temperature,” Françoise said, nodding. I should've known—she'd read the da Vinci notebooks, too.