Inkheart (50 page)

A scornful smile spread over Basta's face, but Dustfinger paid no attention. He locked the barred door, took Resa's arm, and led her to the stairs. " Let go of her!" he begged, when he saw she was still holding Meggie tightly. "Believe me, nothing will happen to her, and we can't take her with us!"

But Resa just shook her head and put her arm around Meggie's shoulders.

"Hey, Dustfinger!" called Basta. "I knew you couldn't do it. Give me my knife back. You don't know what to do with it anyway!"

Dustfinger ignored him. "They'll kill you if you stay," he told Resa, but he let go of her hand.

"Hey, you up there!" bellowed Basta. "Help! Help! The prisoners are escaping!"

Meggie looked at Dustfinger in alarm. "Why didn't you gag him?"

"What with, princess?" asked Dustfinger. Resa held Meggie close and stroked her hair.

"They'll shoot you, they'll shoot you!" Basta's voice rang out. "Hey there! Help!" he shouted again, shaking the bars of the grating.

Footsteps were heard overhead. Dustfinger swore quietly, cast Resa one last glance, then turned and ran up the worn steps. Meggie couldn't hear whether or not he got the door open at the top.

She could hear nothing but Basta's shouting, and she ran back toward him, helpless but wanting to strike him through the bars, right in his bellowing face. Once again, she heard footsteps overhead, muffled cries. What were they to do? Someone came crashing down the stairs. Was Dustfinger coming back? No, it wasn't his face but Flatnose's that emerged from the darkness.

Another of Capricorn's men was stumbling down the stairs behind him. He looked very young, round-faced, and beardless, but he immediately pointed his gun at Meggie and her mother.

"Hello there, Basta! What are you doing behind those bars?" asked Flatnose, surprised.

"Open up, you damn fool!" snapped Basta through the grating. "Dustfinger's gone."

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"Dustfinger?" Flatnose wiped his face on his sleeve. "Then the lad here was right. Came to me just now and said he'd seen the fire-eater up there behind a column."

"And you didn't give chase? Are you really as big a fool as you look?" Basta pressed his face to the bars as if he could make his way through them.

"Hey, watch what you say, OK?" Flatnose came up to the grating and studied Basta with obvious pleasure. "So that dirty-fingered fellow has outwitted you again! Capricorn won't like that."

"Send someone after him!" roared Basta. "Or I'll tell Capricorn it was you who let him go!"

Flatnose took a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and noisily blew his nose. "Oh yes? So who's behind bars, you or me? He won't get far. There are two guards in the parking area, another three in the square, and his face is easy to recognize, you made good and sure of that, right?" His laughter sounded like a dog barking. "Tell you what, I could really get used to this sight! Your face looks good behind bars. They're just the thing to stop you from waving your knife around under anyone's nose."

"Will you unlock this damn door?" bellowed Basta. "Or I'll cut off your ugly nose. Open up!"

Flatnose folded his arms. "Sadly, I can't," he smirked in a mock-serious voice. "Our dirty-fingered friend seems to have taken the keys. Or do
you
see them anywhere?" he inquired of the boy who was still pointing his gun at Meggie and her mother. When he shook his head, Flatnose grinned all over his squashed-in face. "No, he can't see them either. Well, I suppose I'll just have to go to Mortola. Maybe she has a master key."

"Wipe that grin off your face!" shouted Basta. "Or I'll carve it off!"

"You don't say! I can't see your knife anywhere. Has Dustfinger stolen another one? If this goes on he'll soon have a whole collection." Flatnose turned his back on Basta and pointed to the cell next to him. "Shut the woman in there and guard her till I get back with the keys," he said. "I'll just take little Miss Silvertongue back to her room first."

Meggie resisted as he pulled her away, but Flatnose simply picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. "What was the girl doing down here anyway?" he asked. "Does Capricorn know about it?"

"Ask the Magpie!" spat Basta.

"No fear!" Flatnose muttered as he marched toward the stairs with Meggie. She had time to see the boy push her mother into the other cell with the barrel of his gun, then she saw only the steps and the door of the church and the dusty square as Flatnose carried her across it like a sack of potatoes.

"Let's hope your voice isn't as thin as you," he grunted as he put her down on her feet outside the room. "Or the Shadow will be rather narrow-chested if he really does turn up this evening."

Meggie did not answer.

When Flatnose unlocked the door, she walked past Fenoglio without a word, climbed up on her bed, and buried her head in Mo's sweater.

247

Chapter 50 – No Luck for Elinor

Having described the precise situation of the office, and accompanied it with copious
directions how he was to walk straight up the passage, and when he got into the yard take
the door up the steps on the right-hand side, and pull off his hat as he went into the room,
Charley Bates bade him hurry on alone, and promised to bide his return on the spot of
their parting.

–
Charles Dickens,
Oliver Twist

Elinor had been driving for more than an hour before she finally reached a town with its own police station. The sea was still some way off, but the hills were lower, and vines grew on the slopes rather than the undergrowth and trees that grew on the hills around Capricorn's village.

It was terribly hot, even hotter than the day before, and when Elinor got out of the car she heard a distant rumble of thunder that sounded as if a great beast were lurking somewhere beyond the hills. The sky above the houses was a blue as dark as deep water — an ominous blue . . .

Don't be silly, Elinor, she told herself as she made for the pale yellow building that was the police station. There's a storm coming, that's all. Not getting as superstitious as that man Basta, are you?

There were two officers in the small police station. They had hung their uniform jackets over their chairs. Despite the big fan whirring around under the ceiling, the air was so muggy it could have been bottled.

The younger of the two men, who was broad and snub-nosed like a pug dog, laughed at Elinor when she told her story, and asked whether she looked so red in the face, perhaps, because she liked the local wine a little too much. Elinor would have tipped him off his chair if his companion hadn't calmed her down. The second officer was a tall, thin man with a melancholy expression and dark hair thinning above his forehead. "Stop that," he told the other policeman. "At least let her finish her story." He listened unmoved as Elinor told them about Capricorn's village and the Black Jackets, frowned when she started talking about fire-raising and dead roosters, and when she came to Meggie and the planned execution he raised his eyebrows. She said nothing, of course, about the book and just how the execution was to be carried out. Only two weeks ago she wouldn't have believed a word of it herself.

When she had finished, the tall man said nothing for a while. He rearranged the pencils on his desk, tidied some papers, and finally looked at her thoughtfully. "I've heard about that village before," he said.

"Naturally, everyone's heard of it!" mocked the other officer. "The devil's village, the accursed village, even the snakes avoid it. The walls of the church are painted with blood and Black Jackets, who are really ghosts and carry fire in their pockets, haunt the streets. You only have to get near them and you go up in smoke — whoosh!" He raised his hands and clapped them above his head.

Elinor looked at him icily. His colleague smiled, but then rose with a sigh, laboriously put on his jacket, and signed to Elinor to follow him. "I'm going to take a look at this," he said over his shoulder.

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"Might as well, if you've nothing better to do!" the other man called after him, laughing so uproariously that Elinor felt like going back to tip him off his chair after all. A little later she was in the passenger seat of a police car, and the road along which she had come was winding its way through the hills. Why on earth, she kept thinking, didn't I do this before? Everything will be all right now, everything. No one will be shot or executed, Meggie will get her father back, and Mortimer will be reunited with his daughter. Yes, everything will be all right, thanks to Elinor!

She could have sung and danced (not that she was much of a dancer and she was sitting in a car).

She had never in her life felt so pleased with herself. Now, who could say she didn't know how to cope with the real world?

The policeman beside her said nothing. He just kept his eyes on the road, taking bend after bend at a speed that made Elinor's heart beat painfully fast. Occasionally, he absent-mindedly kneaded his right earlobe. He seemed to know the way and never hesitated when the road branched or passed any turning. Elinor could not help thinking how long it had taken her and Mo to search for the village. Suddenly, a disturbing thought came into her mind.

"There are quite a lot of them," she said in an uncertain voice, just as they were taking another bend so fast they came alarmingly close to the abyss yawning on her left. "I mean, this Capricorn has a lot of men. And they're armed, even if they're not particularly good shots. Might it be a good idea to ask for reinforcements?" That was what people did in stupid films about cops and robbers — the police were always asking for reinforcements.

The policeman with her ran his hand through his sparse hair and nodded as if he had already thought of that. "Yes, of course," he said, reaching for his radio. "Reinforcements won't hurt, but they'd better keep in the background. The first thing is to ask a few questions."

Over the radio, he asked for five men. Not many against Capricorn's Black Jackets, thought Elinor, but better than nothing, certainly better than a desperate father, an Arab boy, and an overweight book collector.

"There it is!" she said as Capricorn's village appeared in the distance, gray and insignificant looking amidst all the dark green.

"Yes, that's what I thought," replied the policeman, after which he was silent again. When he just nodded to the guard in the parking lot Elinor simply refused to believe the worst. Only when they were standing in front of Capricorn, and he was handing her over like lost property being restored to its rightful owner, was she forced to admit to herself that nothing was going to turn out well after all. Everything was ruined now — and oh, how stupid she had been, how dreadfully stupid.

"She's spreading slander about you," he heard the policeman tell Capricorn, avoiding Elinor's eyes. "Something about child abduction. And there was talk of fire-raising .. "

"All nonsense!" replied Capricorn, answering the unspoken question in a bored voice. "I love children — as long as they don't come too close to me. Children and business don't mix."

The policeman nodded and looked unhappily at his hands. "And she said something about an execution. . . ."

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"Did she indeed?" Capricorn looked Elinor up and down as if amazed by such fantasies. "Well, as you know, I have no call for anything of that nature. People do as I say without my having to resort to such drastic measures."

"Of course," murmured the policeman, nodding. "Of course."

He couldn't wait to leave. As his rapid, clipped footsteps died away Cockerell, who had been sitting on the steps, laughed. "He has three small children, right? It ought to be compulsory for all policemen to have small children. That one was a pushover! Basta just had to stand outside the school twice. What about it — should we pay him another visit, to refresh his memory?"

Capricorn shook his head. "I don't think that will be necessary. Let's just think about what to do with our guest here. How should we deal with someone who tells such shocking lies about us?"

Elinor felt weak at the knees as he turned his colorless eyes on her. If Mortimer offered to read me into some book now, any book, she thought, I'd accept. I wouldn't even want to pick and choose.

Three or four black-clad men were standing behind her, so trying to run away was pointless. All you can do is submit to your fate with dignity, Elinor, she told herself. But reading about such a thing was much easier than doing it.

"The crypt or the sheds?" asked Cockerell, strolling up to her. The
crypt,
thought Elinor.

Dustfinger said something about that. And it was nothing nice.

"The crypt? Why not? We have to dispose of her, or who might she bring here next?" Capricorn hid a yawn behind his hand. "Very well, we'll give the Shadow a little more work to do this evening. He'll like that."

Elinor wanted to say something — something bold and heroic — but her tongue wouldn't work.

It just lay there in her mouth, numb. Cockerell had already hauled her as far as that ridiculous statue when Capricorn called him back.

"I quite forgot to ask her about Silvertongue!" he cried. "Ask her if she happens to know where he is at the moment."

"Well, come on, out with it!" growled Cockerell, seizing her by the nape of the neck as if to shake the answer out of her. "Where is he?"

Elinor tightened her lips. Quick, Elinor, quick, she told herself, think of a good answer. And suddenly her tongue was working again.

"Why ask me?" she said to Capricorn, who was still sitting in his chair as pale as if he had been left in the wash too long or the sun burning down out in the square had bleached him. "You should know! He's dead. Your men shot him — and the boy." Look at him, Elinor, she thought.

Look him straight in the face the way you used to look at your father when he caught you with the wrong book. A few tears would come in useful, too. Go on, just think of your books, all your burnt books! Think of last night, the fear, the despair — and if none of that works pinch yourself!

Capricorn was gazing at her thoughtfully.