Chapter 12 #2
The first set of steps was wide and polished, leading to a landing, a turn and more steps, then another landing, another turn and more steps, before continuing upward to the floor with the clock overlooking Jackson Square.
“PASS TIME,” Amelie murmured as they rose above the clock.
The stairs narrowed, curving upward, forcing them to ascend single file.
Maurice, still in the lead, climbed steadily upward.
They passed four smaller bells, two above them, and finally reached the largest bell that hung over the others.
Light shining through a round window illuminated a beam with the image of an eagle burned into the wood. Beneath it was the year 1949.
Amelie stretched her arm out and ran her fingers across the image of the eagle. “EGL. Eagle.”
“Damned door’s locked. Working it.” Xavier’s voice startled Amelie in the silence of the bell tower.
She turned on the staircase. With the bells taking up the center of the tower, there was no floor, only beams crisscrossing the space. Some held the weight of the bells beneath them. Others carried the weight of the roof above.
“EGL for eagle, but why the W?” Amelie whispered in deference to the sanctity of the cathedral and the bells. “And which WALL?”
“The W might not be part of EGL. It could be telling us which wall,” Maurice said. “West.”
He turned in that direction and studied the wall accessible only by the beam leading to it.
“Stay here,” Maurice said, and then stepped off the stairs onto the beam suspended in the air over the layers of bells below.
Placing one foot in front of the other on a joist narrower than a gymnast’s balance beam, Maurice spread his arms wide.
One false step or stumble, and he could fall all twenty or more feet to the nearest floor located at the clock level.
Add the probability of slamming into bells and beams along the way, and the ultimate landing wouldn’t be pretty.
Amelie’s gut clenched the further he moved away from her. She couldn’t reach out and steady him. All she could do was hold her breath until he reached the west wall.
“FIND US THERE,” she said, her voice shaking with anxiety.
Maurice finally reached the wall and braced his hands against it. For a long moment, he studied a section of wood paneling.
“What do you see?” Amelie asked.
“Initials carved into a single panel.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and shined a light at the wall. “G + C.”
Amelie’s heart fluttered, and her pulse picked up, racing so fast her head spun. “Find us here. You found them. Germaine and Celine. You found the spot.”
Maurice felt along the seam between the wood panels, tugged, pushed and frowned. “If this is the place, all they left were their initials.” He looked over his shoulder at Amelie. “Any ideas?”
“Maybe it’s not just the single panel that moves.” Amelie itched to be there next to him, working with him to figure out how to get behind the panel.
He tried pulling a corner at a time, then pushing. When he leaned into the bottom corner, the panel shifted slightly. Applying more pressure, the bottom leaned in, and the top of the panel tipped outward, toward him.
Maurice shined his light into the space created. Then he reached down and dragged out what appeared to be a leatherbound map case with a strap. Without turning, he held it in the air.
Steps sounded on the spiral staircase.
“He found it,” Amelie called out, her gaze on Maurice and the map case. She couldn’t wait to see the Monet, a painting that had been lost for decades.
Maurice slid the strap over his shoulder and turned slowly on the beam. When he glanced up briefly, his eyes widened. “Amelie!”
Amelie spun on the narrow step. Four steps below her, two men wearing black face masks and baseball caps appeared around the curve of the spiral staircase. The one in the lead held a pistol in his hand. “Don’t move,” he said, “or I’ll shoot you, then I’ll shoot him.”
Amelie raised her hands. She couldn’t step to the side to place herself between the gunman and Maurice.
The man with the gun waved it toward Maurice. “Toss the case to your girlfriend. Make it good. If she misses or drops it, I’ll shoot you, then I’ll shoot her.”
Maurice slipped the strap off his shoulder. “If the case falls, it could shatter and destroy what’s inside.”
“Then you better hope she catches it.” He jerked the gun. “Do it. I don’t have all day.”
“I don’t know,” she said, making her voice shake. That part wasn’t hard as her entire body was shaking. “I don’t think I can catch it. What if it knocks me over? It’ll fall all the way to the bottom. We can’t let that happen.”
“Then catch it,” the gunman gritted out.
“You need someone with bigger hands,” she said. “Do you know what’s inside? Do you have any idea how much money is at stake?”
The guy behind the gunman nudged him. “Ask her.”
“Shut up,” the gunman hissed.
The guy behind him leaned around his partner. “How much?”
“Hundreds of thousands. Maybe four-hundred-thousand or more.”
“What’s so special that it’s worth that much?” the guy behind the gunman asked.
“Shut the fuck up, asshole. We’re getting paid to get it and get out.” He focused on Maurice again. “Throw it now.”
“Please,” Amelie begged. “It’s a famous painting by one of the greatest artists of all time. I’d rather you took it than have it be destroyed.”
“I’ll catch it,” the masked man in the back pushed past the gunman and came to stand two steps down from her. “Okay, throw it.”
Amelie, her hands still in the air, glanced at the watch on her wrist. Any second now, the bells would ring, giving her the distraction she needed.
“Go ahead and throw it,” she yelled to Maurice. “He’s going to catch it.”
Maurice’s eye narrowed.
“Do you want him to shoot me?” she demanded. “Throw it. Now!”
Maurice bunched his muscles, bent and thrust the map case into the air.
Bong! Bong! Bong!
While the man’s attention was on the map case, his hands reaching into the air, Amelie slammed her foot as hard as she could into the man’s shoulder, sending him flying down the spiral staircase into his partner.
Amelie immediately pivoted, flung her hand in the air and snagged the strap in the crook of her arm. The weight of the case, plus its momentum, pulled it down. The strap on her arm arrested its downward trajectory so fast it snapped back and hit her in the face.
She slammed into the stair rail, hitting it low on her hip.
With both hands in the air, she had no way to steady herself and regain her balance. The heavy map case pulled her over the rail.