The Empress's Tomb (22 page)

Plant an old, creepy item somewhere around your house and pretend to discover it. Your object could be anything—a picture, a strange toy, or a chilling letter. If you live in an older building, you can say you found it under a floorboard or behind the radiator. If your home is new, claim you dug it up in the yard. Speculate about who might have owned it and what might have happened to her. Then drop the subject for at least a day before moving on to your next trick.

If you're a good actor, this can be your most effective trick. One morning, ask your family if they heard
the noises
the previous night. Don't go overboard. You don't need to convince them of anything—only to plant the idea in their heads. A couple of days later, you might ask if they've ever seen anything strange in the basement or attic. If you're asked for a description, just shake your head and insist it must have been your imagination.

Nothing frightens people more than when the familiar suddenly seems unfamiliar. Rearrange the kitchen cabinets in the middle of the night. Use black shoe polish to put an
X
across every mirror (no matter how small). Flip photos and artwork around so they all face the wall. Purchase an old dress or shirt from a flea market and hang it in one of the closets. Leave stacks of pennies in strange places.

No haunting would be complete without a few unexplained noises. Unfortunately, it's easy to get caught in the act of producing them. Don't go for the obvious moans and wails. Hide a small tape player in different places around your house and have it play a simple recording—maybe a child's giggle or an old man's grunt.

Remove family photos from their frames and make color copies. (You can also single out an individual, if you choose.) Take the copies (not the originals!) and carefully rub out the faces of the people shown. Put the originals somewhere safe and place your creepy copies in the frames.

As your haunting escalates, you may want to leave a few messages for your family. Use ChapStick to write
help
on the bathroom mirror. (It will be obvious only when the mirror steams up.) Or use lemon juice to scrawl
get out
on a wall above a radiator. (This works only in the winter when the radiator's heat will eventually turn the invisible message brown.)

It's a simple fact of human nature. If you have a secret to tell, you won't find a single soul who doesn't want to hear it. Warn people it will ruin their lives, break their hearts, or bring down the government—they'll still grit their teeth and insist that you spill it. While it's a weakness we all share in common, the irresistible urge to listen to secrets would do little harm if most of us weren't so eager to share them. Every day, seemingly harmless secrets slip past our lips, and sometimes it isn't till later that we realize the damage that one of them has done.

The sun was beginning to set, and the west-facing greenhouse felt as bright and as hot as the face of the sun. Kiki's face was hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat that shielded her delicate skin as she watered Verushka's orchids. The older woman hadn't regained consciousness all day, and Kiki was channeling her nervous energy into chores. I watched as she tenderly brushed a layer of black Manhattan soot from the leaves of a butterfly orchid.

“I told Oona that Verushka might be dying.” It felt strangely good to confess. “She wanted to go to the Shadow City today to look for Yu's friends. I had to explain why you couldn't go.”

Kiki kept her eyes on the orchid. “You've got a big mouth, Ananka. If I hadn't inhaled so much Fille Fiable, I never would have told you. Verushka was worried that Oona might find out.” She paused as if she were summoning the energy to continue. “Look. I know Oona seems tough, but it's all an act. She's far more fragile than you think. She has a ghost and a deadbeat father to deal with. The last thing she needed was something new to worry about.”

Kiki's reproof stung. “I know, and I'm sorry. I made a mistake. Oona's already cracking under the pressure. We listened to the feeds from Luz's bugs this morning, and it seems like the ghost might be real. Oona even dragged me to see a medium this afternoon. He said that if Oona did her duty she'd have everything she desired. Now she's desperate to find proof that her father is lying. I think it's because she's starting to believe him.”

“Did you take her to the Shadow City?”

“No. Something else came up. I told Oona she'd have to wait, and she pitched a fit. I'm worried it may have pushed her over the edge.”

“What happened?”

“One of Kaspar's squirrels delivered a message to Betty while Oona and I were on Twenty-seventh Street talking to the dead. He's been kidnapped.”

Kiki's milky eyes flashed. “Did you go see his parents?”

“You know about his parents?”

“A kid who speaks like a college professor doesn't disappear without someone noticing. I did a little research after I met him. Phineas Parker, right?”

“Wow. You're good.”

“I own a computer and I can type. That's really all it takes. Did his parents capture him?”

“I doubt it. They're totally bonkers. They basically called us groupies and suggested that Kaspar staged his disappearance to get away from us. But I don't believe it. Kaspar's friend Howard saw the kidnapper. The man's not going to win any awards for mental health, but I swear, Kiki, the person he described sounded just like Sergei Molotov.”

Kiki squashed a tiny worm that had emerged from the bud of a ghost orchid. “It's not impossible,” she finally said. “I have a hunch that Livia and Sidonia are planning something. They know about the poisoned bullet. I wouldn't be surprised if Molotov stayed in New York to wait for Verushka to die. If she does, I'll be more vulnerable than ever.”

“But why would Molotov kidnap Kaspar? It doesn't make sense.”

“I don't know,” Kiki admitted. “Maybe I need to be more careful about who I'm seen with. Okay. Here's what you need to do.” She stopped and looked at me quizzically. “Are you going to write this down?” I grabbed a notebook out of my bag. “Where Kaspar's concerned, all we can do right now is check the parks in Manhattan, just to make sure that he isn't avoiding us. And keep an eye out for new giant squirrels. As for Lester Liu, ask Luz to make some of those surveillance cameras that look
like pigeons and station them across from his mansion. That way we can keep track of everyone who comes and goes. Keep listening to the recordings from the bugs, and as soon as Yu's feeling better, take him down to the tunnels. I'll go with you if I can. In the meantime, tell Oona to be patient. If her father's up to something, we'll find out eventually.”

“Patience isn't one of Oona's strengths,” I reminded Kiki. “Lester Liu's smart, and he's found his daughter's weaknesses. I'm worried she's going to fall for it all.”

“Go talk to her,” Kiki counseled. “I've tried to make it clear that I'm on her side, but she needs to know that the rest of you are, too.”

•     •     •

My cell phone showed five missed calls from home, and I didn't bother to check the messages. The two hours I'd said I'd be gone had turned into six, and I knew I was begging for trouble. But I couldn't go home without speaking to Oona. I hopped on the subway to Chinatown, and when I emerged on Canal Street it was already dark. A row of roasted ducks hanging in a restaurant window reminded my stomach that it hadn't been fed since breakfast. I paused to gaze longingly at the dumpling soup being sipped by a man with a wart on the tip of his chin. Reflected in the glass, I saw a silver Rolls-Royce glide by behind me. My hunger vanished as I watched the car turn down Oona's street.

When I reached her building, I found the Rolls parked outside. Lester Liu's butler waited behind the wheel, staring straight ahead at the street in front of him.
Climbing the stoop, I saw Oona dashing down the stairs, with Mrs. Fei in pursuit. Even with the door closed, I could hear them shouting in Chinese. Oona burst outside, nearly knocking me over the railing.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded

“I went to see Kiki. …” I paused, taken aback by the dress she was wearing. I remembered admiring it in the window of Bergdorf Goodman, and I knew the price must have been astronomical. And when Oona lifted her arm to scratch a patch of red skin beneath her collar, I spotted the platinum cuffs that Lester Liu had given her. “You're still wearing the bracelets.”

“And your point is?” Oona snarled. Mrs. Fei arrived on the stoop, out of breath from the sprint down the stairs. Her hair had come unfastened, and it flowed down her back like a silver waterfall. She took Oona's hand and appeared to plead with her. “I've got to go,” Oona said, breaking free from her grandmother and hurrying toward the Rolls-Royce.

“Go where?” I asked.

“I'm having dinner with my father.”

“You can't!” I cried. “It's too dangerous. At least wait until one of us can go with you. We all want to help you.”

Before Oona ducked inside the car, she turned back to me. “It's too late. I don't need your help anymore. I figured everything out.” The door slammed in my face.

“Wait!” I begged, but the car was already peeling away from the curb.

“She is gone.” I looked down in surprise at Mrs. Fei, who was resting on one of the steps, watching the Rolls-Royce disappear around the corner. “I tell her to stay
home. Her father is a very bad man. But I am not her real mother. She won't listen to me.”

“When did you learn English?” I took a seat beside her on the cold concrete.

“Long time ago. I teach myself,” said Mrs. Fei. “So I could keep Wang out of trouble. She always speaks English when she don't want me to understand.”

I smiled at the thought of Oona's tricks turned against her. “Your secret's safe with me, Mrs. Fei. But why do you call her Wang?”

“Wang is the name I gave her when she was born.” There was grief in her voice, as if she were speaking of someone who'd died. “She says it is the name of a peasant. Not a name for the daughter of a rich man. She always want everything to be new and beautiful. She don't want to live in Chinatown with a poor old lady.”

“That's not true,” I tried to assure her, but when I heard the uncertainty in my voice, I thought it best to change the subject. “How is Yu?”

“He is a good boy. Wang is mad because I don't let him look for the children today. But it is my job to make him better, not let him get worse. I tell her that, and she call Mr. Liu. She said in English that she believes there is a ghost in his house.”

“She did?” I barely choked out the words.

“Wang is in big trouble,” said Mrs. Fei. All I could do was nod in agreement.

•     •     •

The following week, fall landed hard on New York. In the little park across the street from my house, I saw the last
leaf flutter down from above, only to find itself pinned to the windshield of a passing car. I spent hours with my nose pressed against the cold glass of my window, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Since returning from Oona's house at seven thirty in the evening without a reasonable excuse to account for my eight-hour absence, I had been placed under house arrest. Convicted ax murderers are allowed more freedom than I was.

Not that it mattered. There wasn't anything I could do. Luz and DeeDee were leading what was left of the Irregulars. Iris, dressed as a cookie-selling Girl Scout or a trick-or-treater, smuggled updates to me whenever she could, but there was never much to report. Kaspar was still missing, and Betty spent every free moment searching the island's parks and scanning the newspapers for signs of giant squirrels. But even the city's intrepid reporters had no idea what had become of the vigilante and his three furry sidekicks. Luz's pigeon cameras showed regular deliveries of exotic yet edible animals to Lester Liu's mansion, as well as frequent visits from Oona, who was barely speaking to the rest of us. But thanks to the bugs in her father's mansion, we knew how she spent much of her time. She and Lester Liu were busy preparing for the Empress's coming-out party at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Enormous blood-red banners announcing the exhibition hung from the entrance of the museum, and across the city, bus stop ads and billboards reminded New Yorkers that it wouldn't be long before
The Empress Awakens.
With the lavish opening gala little more than two weeks away, Lester Liu
and his beautiful daughter had become the city's most famous philanthropists.

DeeDee and Luz tried their best to break Lester Liu's hold on Oona. They took Yu to the Shadow City, but he failed to guide them to the missing Taiwanese teenagers. They called the ASPCA to report Lester Liu's unusual deliveries, but the inspectors were either charmed or bribed by the dapper old gentleman and left without checking his refrigerator. After those and other disappointments, Luz and DeeDee spent days with their eyes glued to the surveillance tapes, searching for any sign of illegal activity. All they witnessed was a tearful Mrs. Fei being turned away twice from the mansion's front door.

Only Kiki remained in contact with Oona, who called her every few days to check on Verushka. There had been no progress on that front either. The doctor had prevented Verushka's condition from deteriorating, but her health hadn't improved. Somewhere in the city, Sergei Molotov was patiently waiting for her to expire. Whatever he and Livia had planned remained a mystery, and I dreaded the day that we would find out.