“It looks as if your past has returned to haunt you, Miss Strike.”
“Hello, Princess,” Molotov sneered at Kiki. “How nice to see you again. And how is my old friend Verushka Kozlova? Is it true what the newspapers say—that she may already be dead?”
Kiki ignored him and turned to Lester Liu. “You trust this man? You’re aware that he has a nasty habit of murdering his employers, aren’t you? Who knows what he’ll do to you.”
“That might be a cause for concern if Mr. Molotov were in my employ.” Lester Liu lowered his dagger and offered Kiki a smug smile. “But he takes orders from the head of this operation—your dear aunt Livia. I can see no reason for her to harm me when our arrangement has proven so mutually beneficial. She will provide her patron, Oleg Volkov, with some artwork he desires, and Mr.
Volkov will generously fund Livia’s return to New York. She, in turn, will give me your map of the underground tunnels. As a bonus, I will be able to enjoy my revenge.
“Now, ladies,” said Lester Liu, as charming as ever. “Would you mind joining Miss Fishbein? I apologize if your quarters feel a bit cramped, but we don’t intend to have you as guests for long. Mr. Molotov, would you please immobilize the girls? I’d rather not have any disturbances this evening.”
“You’re going to kill us, I suppose,” said Kiki as Molotov tied her hands behind her back.
“Oh, heavens no.” Lester Liu chuckled. “I am a businessman, not a murderer. I don’t intend to kill your friends. I plan to sell them. There are countries where people your age demand very high prices. As for you, Miss Strike, you are no longer my concern. Your aunt may do whatever she pleases with you, though I can’t help but hope that her plans include a great deal of pain.”
“What about Oona?” Kiki asked.
Lester Liu licked his lips as if savoring a delicious thought. “I have a special punishment in mind for the girl who calls herself my daughter. I must admit I’m both impressed and appalled by her greed. I bought her trust at a bargain price. I can’t tell you how easy it was to turn her against you. She wanted nothing less than the wealth of an Empress. I think you’ll agree that it’s only fitting she should share the Empress’s fate.”
“You know, there’s a problem with your plans,” said Kiki. “Livia’s map of the tunnels is worthless. Your men would be eaten by the rats in minutes.”
“That is no longer a problem, Miss Strike. Why do you think I worked so hard to win my daughter’s trust when I could have just killed you all? She has told me your little secret. I have what I need to keep the rats at bay. Now, if you’ll excuse us, there’s a party to plan.”
Molotov flipped the light switch and left us in the darkness. I tried to wriggle my hands free, but the rope burned my wrists.
“Hey, Kiki. Would this be the wrong time to say I told you so?” It was DeeDee’s voice.
“Would this be the wrong time to say that Oona’s dead if I get out of here before her father has a chance to kill her?” Luz added.
“Kaspar! Kaspar? Are you in here?” Betty whispered.
“Umm-hum,” said a muffled voice.
“Do you think anyone will hear us if we scream?” I asked.
“Do you want them to gag us, too?” Kiki asked. “Stay calm. We’ve got to find a way to save Oona.”
“Save Oona?” Luz spat. “In case you’ve forgotten, she’s the reason we’re in this mess. That greedy little traitor even told her daddy about the rat-repelling perfume. I say we save our own butts and let Oona get what’s coming to her.”
“You’d let her die in an air-tight coffin? You’d let her corpse lie on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art?” Kiki asked. “Whatever she’s done, she doesn’t deserve that.”
“What do you mean?” Betty whispered.
“Don’t you get it? That’s what Lester Liu meant by sharing the Empress’s fate. That’s what he plans to do to her.”
“Oh, come on,” Luz said. “He’s not going to kill her. How would he explain his own daughter’s disappearance?”
“That’s a good question,” I noted.
“Entombed forever in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. That’s pretty bad,” DeeDee said pensively.
“I don’t care,” snapped Luz. “It’s still better than ending up somebody’s slave.”
“Nobody’s going to die or be sold into slavery.” It was a familiar male voice.
“Kaspar!” Betty cried.
The shutters on the windows opened just enough to dimly light the room and reveal a relatively clean and startlingly handsome Phineas Parker.
“Hello, Betty.” Kaspar beamed as he loosened her restraints. “Did you find my squirrels?”
“That’s how we knew the paintings in the museum were forgeries,” she said. “I’m so glad I found you. I—I mean we—have been looking for you for weeks.”
“I’m glad you found me, too.” I could see that his feelings for Betty hadn’t changed.
“So, Kaspar, how did you end up getting kidnapped?” I asked, feeling somewhat embarrassed to be a captive witness to their reunion. “Howard said you were trying to save some snakes?”
“I guess you could say that,” Kaspar replied with a laugh. “The morning after your dinner party, Howard and I were having breakfast when I saw a delivery van from a company called Tasty Treasures pull up in front of the mansion. I was certain it was the same one I’d seen deliver the snakes. So when the driver went inside the mansion, I snuck over to see what was inside his van. I found cages crammed with snakes and monkeys and lizards. I couldn’t let them loose in the streets—I’d given Betty my word. I was trying to come up with a plan when the deliveryman came back. I heard him speaking with a Russian man about a shipment of cats that had been shipped to Malaysia. I guess six-toed cats are considered lucky there. The deliveryman admitted that he’d kept one for himself. I looked down and saw a kitten curled up on the floor of the van. I didn’t know what else to do, so I grabbed it and ran. Of course the Russian saw me and followed me into the park. Howard managed to trip him, which gave me just enough time to scribble a note to Betty. I don’t know what would have happened to me if I hadn’t had some of my drawings in my pocket. When he realized I was an artist, he locked me up in that basement with the other kids.”
Kaspar turned to Betty. “Were you worried about me?”
“Very,” Betty whispered.
“Enough with the lovey-dovey crap,” Luz interjected. “How did you just break free?”
“A present from Oona.” Kaspar held up a tiny X-Acto knife. “You should have a little more faith in your friends.”
DeeDee’s eyes narrowed. “Why would Oona give you a knife?”
“To help us escape. If it weren’t for Oona, we’d all be crammed in a shipping crate right now. One of the Taiwanese girls disappeared after we finished our paintings, and the guards decided it was too risky to keep us in the same place. They were planning to ship us out of New York, but Oona convinced her father to bring us here in case any more work needed to be done.
“Last night, she brought me the knife and a set of lockpicks. She told us to sneak out tomorrow evening while everyone is at the opening of the exhibition.”
“Would this be a bad time to say I told you so?” Kiki asked DeeDee.
“Just because Oona spared Kaspar doesn’t mean she’s a saint,” DeeDee responded tersely. “She still helped Lester Liu steal those paintings.”
“Wrong again,” Kaspar said. “Oona’s never been in league with her father. She’s going to expose him tomorrow at the party. We figured out where he got the names of the kids he kidnapped, and Oona knows where all the paintings are hidden. She wants to humiliate him.”
“Why would she tell you that?” Luz scoffed. “You’re practically a stranger.”
“Who was she supposed to tell?” Kaspar said. “From what I’ve heard, none of you believed her.”
“We might have, if she had confided in us,” Betty mumbled.
“Oh my God, w
hat have we done?” DeeDee whimpered as the truth began to sink in.
“Does Oona know what kind of danger she’s in?” Kiki asked.
“No,” said Kaspar. “She thinks her father’s fooled.”
“Untie me,” Kiki demanded.
“I will if you insist, but Molotov will be back to check on us later. We don’t have any chance of escaping tomorrow if anyone’s missing when he returns.”
“Untie me,” Kiki repeated. “And untie Ananka. We know the layout of the mansion, and somebody has to find Oona before it’s too late.”
HOW TO PREDICT THE WEATHER
For years I was convinced that New York’s meteorologists were all out to get me. Each morning I watched their forecasts. I laughed at their cheesy jokes, admired their superwhite teeth, and believed everything they told me. As a result, I’ve been buried in blizzards, drenched by rainstorms, and baked alive during heat waves. That’s why I’ve learned to rely on my own senses for signs that foul weather may be on the way.
Bees Buzz Lower
When a storm is approaching, the air becomes thick with moisture, which means insects (and the birds that eat them) will often buzz about closer to the ground. Other animals, including cats and dogs, have been known to predict tornados and earthquakes, so if Rover starts acting like he’s been possessed, it may be time to take cover.
Sound Becomes Sharper
No, you aren’t developing superhuman powers. The fact that you can hear those men in masks whispering from a block away indicates that a low-pressure front is moving in. Prepare for a day or two of nasty weather.
Smoke Sends Signals
Look up at the chimneys around you. If the smoke rises straight into the air, go ahead and plan your picnic, stakeout, or rocket launch. If it flattens out or lingers in the sky, you’ll probably need a rain check.
The Sky Changes Color
As any professional shepherd could tell you, a red sky in the evening is a good predictor of fair weather, while a red sky in the morning means rain is on the way. But if you happen to see a rainbow in the west, don’t bother with the fabled pot of gold. Search for your umbrella instead.
Grandpa Begins Complaining
The elderly can be excellent weather forecasters. Their aching joints often signal a drop in barometric pressure, which means rain is coming.
Stenches Start to Linger
There are days when New York City smells like the inside of an outhouse. When bad weather’s approaching, smells often become much stronger. If your home is surrounded by flowers and trees (rather than garbage cans, dog piles, and sewer drains), this might not be such a bad thing.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Scavenger Hunt
Stay right behind me and do what I do,” Kiki ordered. She picked the lock on our door and crept silently along the walls, pausing from time to time to listen for signs of movement. Dressed in black, Kiki could fade into the shadows. But though I’d traded my crimson sweater for Luz’s army jacket, I still felt conspicuous, and I scolded myself for not being better prepared.
We had just dipped our toes in the pool of light from the mansion’s foyer when the doorbell rang, and we heard footsteps descending the grand staircase. Kiki slid back into the darkness. When I tried to follow, I stumbled over my own feet and landed on my butt with a soft thud. The footsteps in the foyer came to a halt. Kiki stuck out a hand and with one swift pull yanked me upright. We flattened ourselves against the wall as the steps drew closer and the butler appeared in the doorway. Sukh stood motionless, listening, while his eyes slowly scanned the room. We were right beside him, no more than three feet away. I closed my eyes and tried not to faint when I realized what was hanging from his arm. It was the Empress’s jade shroud.
“Forget what just happened,” Kiki whispered in my ear once Sukh had returned to the foyer. “Forget about it right now, or none of us will ever make it out of here.”
The front door opened. “May I help you?” we heard the butler say.
“Hi!” My head whipped around to face Kiki. It was Iris’s voice. “I’m looking for my friend Oona.”
“Aren’t you a little young to be friends with Miss Liu?” Sukh sounded skeptical.
Iris was offended. “I’m just short for my age. Can I see her?”
“Miss Liu is indisposed at the moment. Perhaps you could return another time.”
“Is something the matter with her?” I could tell Iris knew something was wrong. “Is she sick?”
“Miss Liu is fine,” the annoyed butler replied. “But she’s not seeing visitors today.”
“Have any other girls stopped by?”
“Not to my knowledge. Good day, miss.”
“Please tell her Iris was here!” Iris shouted as the door closed.
“What was she doing?” I whispered to Kiki as Sukh’s footsteps grew fainter. “Shouldn’t she be in school?”
“Shouldn’t you?” Kiki asked.
When at last the coast was clear, Kiki turned the corner and stole toward the stairs. I would have given at least one minor appendage to stay behind in the abandoned wing of the mansion. Beneath the dim glow of the crystal chandelier, there was nowhere to hide. We might as well have been cardboard targets at a shooting range. At the top of the stairs, we found ourselves standing at the end of a long hallway. There were eight closed doors to pick from. Our lives depended on how well we chose.
“Most of these rooms weren’t being used when I planted the bugs,” Kiki whispered. “Oona’s got to be in one of them.” She tiptoed toward the first door, listened with her ear to the wood, and then peeked through the keyhole. “This could be it,” she said, ducking into the room.
The shutters were open, and a pale, silvery light washed over a magnificent bedroom. Outside, the air was thick with snow, and the afternoon sun a dim blur. Against the far wall sat an antique four-poster bed with its green velvet curtains drawn shut. My steps muffled by a priceless Persian rug, I bolted across the room and heaved the heavy fabric to one side. Someone lay sleeping on top of the covers, her glossy black hair spread out over the pillow.
“Oona?” I whispered. When there was no response, I poked the body. It felt cold and stiff beneath my fingers. “There’s something wrong with her,” I told Kiki. Without thinking, I yanked the drapes back farther, and the light fell upon a gruesome sight. Kiki’s hand clapped over my mouth, stifling the scream that was trying to escape. Lying on the bed was a corpse clothed only in a red silk robe. We were too late. Oona was dead.
“Ananka. Ananka, listen to me. It’s not Oona.” Kiki refused to remove her hand until I opened my eyes for another look. The person on the bed was the same size as Oona, and even in death it was easy to see that she, too, had once been a beauty. But now her leathery skin was stretched tight over her cheekbones. The tip of her nose was crumbling and her mouth hung open in an endless scream. It was the mummy.
“That’s the Empress? How old was she?” I managed to mutter once I’d stopped hyperventilating. I had always imagined the Empress as an older woman, but the body on the bed looked remarkably youthful.
“Hard to tell,” Kiki replied. “She must not have been much older than we are when she died. I’m starting to feel sorry for the poor thing. She gets murdered, her grave is robbed, and then her mummy’s dumped in a bedroom on the Upper East Side.”
“What do you think Lester Liu will do with her?”
“Whatever he has in mind, I doubt it’ll be fit for an empress.”
The thought of a two-thousand-year-old mummy buried beneath the refuse on a garbage barge or decorating the den of an eccentric collector was too bleak to bear.
“We’ve got to save her,” I told Kiki. “Even if she was a traitor, she doesn’t deserve this.”
“We’ll try,” Kiki agreed. “But the living have to come first.”
• • •
Back in the hall, Kiki cautiously approached a second room. We were inches away when the door opened a crack, and we heard a familiar laugh on
the other side. I froze in terror. In seconds I would have come face-to-face with Lester Liu if Kiki hadn’t snatched my hand and hauled me down the corridor. A door swung open as we passed. Oona sat alone on the floor of an enormous bedroom, dangerously close to a blazing fireplace big enough to roast a prize-winning pig. Kiki and I slipped inside and quietly closed the door behind us. I heard Oona talking softly, as if to an invisible companion. She had propped up her mother’s photograph on the floor in front of her and surrounded it with tangerines, apples, and limes. In her lap lay a pile of brightly colored paper that looked from a distance like money. Every few seconds, Oona took a handful of cash and flung it into the flames. I was certain she had lost her mind and I started to speak, but Kiki put a hand on my shoulder. “Wait,” she mouthed silently.
When the last scrap of paper had been transformed into ash, Kiki and I approached the fireplace. Hearing our footsteps, Oona glanced over her shoulder before returning her eyes to the fire.
“Does she have what she needs now?” Kiki asked softly.
“It’s only the beginning.” Oona’s cheeks were flushed from the heat. “I have fourteen years to make up for.”
“What were you doing?” I asked.
“Sending my mother ghost money for the afterworld. She’ll need it when she finally gets there.” Oona smiled sadly when she saw the confusion that must have been written on my face. “In China, many people believe that what you burn in this world will belong to your ancestors in the next. I should have made these offerings a long time ago, but I’ve been a terrible daughter. If my mother’s a hungry ghost, it’s all my fault. It was my duty to take care of her and punish Lester Liu.” She stood up and brushed the ashes from her clothes. “The door was locked. Did you pick it?”