Magic Lantern (Rogue Angel) (31 page)

Exasperated, Edmund leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “But that doesn’t make sense.”

“I know.”

“There has to be something.”

“If there is, I haven’t found it. The only discrepancy I’ve found is in the lens placement.”

“The fact that there are three grooves for the lens in the dragon’s mouth?” Edmund nodded. “I’d already noticed that.”

“Do you know why they’re there?”

“To focus the lens better during projection. Probably marked off for different distances. Depending on the image.”

Annja looked at the lantern. The reasoning was as sound as anything she’d come up with. “The lens in the dragon’s mouth isn’t the original, is it?”

Edmund shook his head. “No. That was too much to ask for.”

Annja leaned forward again and popped the lens from the dragon’s mouth. It didn’t come out easily.

“I got the best fit I could. I intended to have the lens ground to a better size at a later date. Once I’d figured out what I was going to have painted on the lens.”

“What were you thinking of?”

Edmund frowned. “A black-and-white image of Anton Dutilleaux. Nothing terribly imaginative, I’m afraid.”

Annja tried the lens on the other grooves and couldn’t get it to fit. She finally surrendered and placed it back in the original groove.

Edmund drummed his fingers on the table nervously. “Men have been killed over that lantern. Not just now, but two hundred years ago Anton Dutilleaux was killed for it. There
has
to be something.”

“I know.” Annja wished she had more to say. She ran her fingers along the lens grooves.

“It could well be that the treasure, whatever it was, is already gone.” Sitting nearby, Fiona poured herself a cup of tea. The aroma lifted Annja’s flagging spirits. Noticing Annja’s look, Fiona pushed the tea across the table to her. “I’ll pour myself another.” She glanced at Edmund. “Would you like one?”

“No. I couldn’t.” Edmund sighed. “Yes. Please.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I simply can’t believe that we would have to undergo all of this for nothing.”

Annja sipped her tea. “Not every mystery gets solved. Not every treasure gets found. Imagine how disappointed Laframboise and Puyi-Jin are going to be.”

Edmund paled. “They’re not going to believe the treasure doesn’t exist. They’re still going to hunt us.” He looked at Annja. “Aren’t they?”

“Unless we can stop them or make them believe it doesn’t exist.”

Fiona returned with two cups. “That’s going to be hard to do, I’m afraid. Now that we’ve had the lantern in our hands, even if we give it back they’ll assume we’ve already figured out whatever secret was there. We’re dealing with greedy men. I daresay they may not even trust themselves.”

When Edmund tried to pick up his teacup, the porcelain tapped against the saucer because his hand was trembling. “We’re in an impossible situation, aren’t we?”

“Getting the lantern didn’t help as much as I’d thought it would.” Annja felt bad about that.

“In one respect, no, it didn’t.” Fiona opened a tin of shortbread cookies. “However, we have definitely set Laframboise and Puyi-Jin at each other’s throats, so that should buy us some time. Otherwise, either of them could have pursued you, Professor.”

“Perhaps we should go to the police at this point.” Edmund looked hopeful. He squared his shoulders. “After all, it is me those two want. Me and the lantern, actually. If I were to turn myself over to the police, they could provide protection and the two of you would be left out of this whole sorry mess.”

Fiona snorted. “I must apologize. I’m not very polite, am I? The police have their uses, Professor, but they’re not so good when it comes to protecting individuals.”

“But as long as I’m with you, I’m putting you in danger.”

“Annja and I are adults, perfectly capable of making our own decisions. We involved ourselves. We could have let you go hang, after all, instead of showing up to rescue you.”

Edmund smiled slightly. “I’m awfully glad you didn’t.”

“Of course you are. Now you need to have a little faith and let us work through this situation.” Fiona leaned back in her chair. “Now, we can kill Laframboise and Puyi-Jin, or we can solve the riddle of the lantern.”

Edmund’s jaw dropped.

“The first will, of course, take some time, but it can be managed. I am not without my resources, and—given the base natures of our opponents—I am not without resolve.” Her eyes glittered like glass. “And after all we’ve been through, I am certainly motivated.”

“Doesn’t sound like I’m going to be getting back to my life anytime soon.”

“That wouldn’t happen until we manage this problem, anyway, would it?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Fiona glanced at Annja. “Not to put any pressure on you, dear, but a solution on your part would certainly be faster and involve less bloodshed and less potential police interest than anything I can offer at this point.”

“I know.” Annja stood. “Let me have some time.”

“Of course. We’re perfectly safe here for the moment. You tend to your investigations, and I’ll see about making more arrangements.”

Annja took the lantern and her backpack, then headed to her room.

* * *

THREE HOURS LATER, ANNJA sat cross-legged and short-tempered on the small bed in the room she’d been assigned. She wished she was back in her loft apartment in Brooklyn. There, surrounded by her books and her personal things, she thought her best.

She stared at the lantern, perfectly balanced on the bed. The dragon looked like it was perched and ready to leap out at her.

“Try it. Just give me any excuse.” Annja shook her head. “Talking to the artifact isn’t a good sign. Threatening it is even worse.” Carefully, she got up, put the lantern back in its case and headed out into the living area.

The television was on, replaying a story about the shoot-out at the office building. She’d watched the footage in her borrowed bedroom. So far Laframboise and Puyi-Jin had been mentioned, but no one had dropped Annja’s or Fiona’s names. Magdelaine de Brosses had stated that thieves had broken into her office and stolen the object Laframboise had brought her.

No fingers had been pointed, but Annja knew the fortune-teller was more involved than she was letting on. Puyi-Jin’s men hadn’t found the second room by accident. Laframboise had been set up, and he was probably aware of that, as well.

Although Laframboise probably wasn’t going to be held accountable for much more than defending himself and his property, the legal entanglements would at least slow the man in his pursuit.

Edmund sat on the couch with a deck of cards. He kept making them disappear and reappear mechanically. His eyes were unfocused, unseeing, and he didn’t notice her until she stepped directly in front of him.

“Going somewhere?”

“Rooftop. I need to clear my head.” Annja looked around. “Where’s Fiona?”

“She went out with Georges. They’re up to something, but she didn’t say what.” Edmund squinted at her. “What’s on the rooftop?”

“Peace of mind, I hope.”

“You still haven’t gotten anywhere with—” Edmund stopped himself and sighed. “Of course you haven’t. Otherwise, you’d say.”

“I would.”

“Are you going to be all right on your own?”

“Yes. In the meantime, why don’t you look back through the Dutilleaux material. See if there’s some new angle. Anything.”

“What should I look for?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you. Hopefully we missed something. We need a new trail.”

Glumly, Edmund nodded and reached for his computer.

Annja went down the hallway to the fire escape. The window was unlocked and she went out it.

The traffic noise from the street below was muted as Annja looked out over the city. Cooing pigeons lined the roof’s parapet. Occasionally one or a small group of them took flight in an explosion of gray and white.

Annja started slow, limbering up her body with stretches, then falling naturally into martial-arts katas. Her muscles loosened and warmed, taking less and less thought as she worked into the familiar routines. She’d started different martial arts while still in the orphanage, and she’d stayed with them all of her adult life.

After a few more minutes, she reached for the sword and pulled it onto the rooftop with her. The keen blade cleaved the air and reflected the late-afternoon sun. She whirled and danced, feinted and struck and blocked and counterstruck. The blade was a part of her, an extension of self. Continuing her workout, a fine sheen of sweat covered her and cooled her body.

Her mind freed up and went dormant. In her mind’s eye, she studied the dragon lantern, turning it over and over and around.

The secret is incomplete.

The realization jarred Annja, but she continued to exercise, to become one with the sword. How was the lantern incomplete? The missing lens? That was one way.

But was there another?

There was something there. She sensed it. All she had to do was grasp it.

Her phone rang and she had the immediate impression she should answer it. She came to a stop with the ease of a leaf falling and was suddenly at rest. Holding the sword in her right hand, she fished her sat-phone from her cargo pants.

Doug Morrell.

Annja didn’t want to deal with Doug at the moment, but she knew she had to answer. “Hello.”

“Just checking in.” Doug sounded relaxed, and Annja chose to view that as a good thing. “How’s it going with the magic lantern?”

“I’ve got it.”

“That’s great, Annja.” Doug suddenly started whispering conspiratorially. “You haven’t used up all the wishes, have you? Because we had an agreement. You know, a wish each and then—”

“I remember.” Annja stared at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. “I’m afraid I haven’t figured out how to get it to work yet.”

“That’s cool. We can figure it out somehow. We just gotta find the instructions.”

Instructions.

A chill ghosted through Annja and she felt certain she had part of the answer she was searching for. “Thanks, Doug. I’ve got to call you back.”

“Wait—”

“As soon as I know something, I’ll call you.”

“But what—”

Annja closed the phone and tucked it back into her pocket. When she turned to face the fire escape, she spotted Fiona sitting there, watching.

“How long have you been there?”

Fiona smiled a little. “I honestly couldn’t tell you. Long enough to tell that you and that sword were made for each other.” She shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like that. Was that dancing?”

“I don’t know.” Annja blushed. “It’s just…natural when I’m with the sword.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. That was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, and I can tell you, I’ve seen some beautiful things.”

“Thank you.” Annja didn’t know what else to say. “I just realized that we missed something. Is Edmund still downstairs?”

“Poring over his records of Anton Dutilleaux when I left him.”

“I’ve got to talk to him.” Annja started for the fire escape.

Fiona stood. “Maybe you shouldn’t take the sword. He might get the wrong impression.”

Smiling ruefully, but no less excited, Annja released the sword and the weapon disappeared before it hit the rooftop.

32

When they returned to the flat, Edmund was pacing the floor with nervous energy while he spoke on the phone. “Yes, yes, of course. No, this is
very
important. Those things should have been together. No, I’m not placing any blame on you. Do forgive me if I sounded that way. It was not intended.” He continued apologizing for a moment longer. “Please let me know what you find out.”

Fiona sat in the easy chair in the corner and steepled her fingers together. She smiled inquisitively at Edmund. “You sound like you’ve had an epiphany, Professor.”

“Not an epiphany. That would be putting a happy face on it. No, I’ve made a dunderheaded mistake is what I’ve done.” Edmund turned to Annja. “Do you know what I missed?”

“There were papers in the lot that had Anton Dutilleaux’s magic lantern.” Annja was so thrilled with her breakthrough that she forgot to let Edmund have his victory. “Papers that had belonged to Dutilleaux.”

“That’s right.” Edmund looked troubled. “How did you know that?”

“If Dutilleaux took the lantern, if there was a treasure somehow attached to it, then he might have had something else, as well. Other belongings.”