Labyrinth

CHAPTER 55

Alice found herself standing in a grand entrance hall, more like a museum than a private house. Will went straight to a tapestry opposite the front door and pulled it away from the wall.

“What are you doing?”

She ran after him and saw a tiny brass handle set into the panelling.

Will rattled and pushed at it, then turned round with frustration.

“Dammit. It’s been locked from the other side.”

“It’s a door?”

“Right.”

“And the labyrinth you saw, it’s down there?”

Will nodded. “You go down a flight of stairs and along a corridor, which leads into a weird sort of chamber. Egyptian symbols on the wall, a tomb with the symbol of the labyrinth, just like you described, carved on top. Now-” he broke off. The stuff in the newspaper. The fact your friend had this address…‘

You’re making a lot of assumptions based on not much,“ she said.

Will dropped the corner of the tapestry and was striding to a room on the opposite side of the hall. After a moment’s hesitation, Alice followed.

“What are you doing?” she hissed as Will opened the door.

Walking into the library was like stepping back in time. It was a formal room with the atmosphere of a men’s club. The shutters were partially closed and batons of yellow light lay stretched on the carpet like strips of golden cloth. There was an air of permanence, a smell of antiquity and polish.

Bookshelves ran from floor to ceiling along three sides of the room with sliding book ladders giving access to the highest shelves. Will knew exactly where he was going. There was a section dedicated to books on Chartres, photographic volumes set alongside the more serious examinations of architecture and social history.

Turning anxiously towards the door, her heart racing, Alice watched as Will pulled out a book with a family crest embossed on the front and carried it to the table. Alice looked over his shoulder as he flicked through the pages. Glossy colour photographs, old maps of Chartres, line and ink drawings flashed by until Will reached the section he wanted.

“What is it?”

“A book about the de l’Oradore house. This house,” he said. “The family has lived here for hundreds of years, since it was built. There are architectural floor plans and elevations of each floor of the house.”

Will flicked through until he’d found the page he wanted. “There,” he said, turning the book round so she could see properly. “Is that it?”

Alice caught her breath. “Oh God,” she whispered.

It was a perfect drawing of her labyrinth.

The sound of the front door being slammed shut made them both jump.

“Will, the door! We left it open!”

She could make out muffled voices in the hall, a man and a woman.

“They’re coming in here,” she hissed.

Will thrust the book into her hands. “Quick,” he hissed, pointing at a large three-seater sofa standing beneath the window. “Let me handle this.”

Alice scooped up her bag, ran to the sofa and crawled into the gap between it and the wall. There was a pungent smell of cracked leather and cigar smoke and the dust tickled her nose. She heard Will shut the case with a rattle, then take up position in the middle of the room just as the library door creaked open.

2›“Qu’est-ce que vous foutez la?” 2›

By tilting her head a little, Alice could just about the two of them reflected in the glass doors of the cabinets. He was; and tall, about the same size as Will, although more angular. Black curly hair, a high forehead and patrician nose. She frowned. He reminded her of someone.

“Francois-Baptiste. Hi,” said Will. Even to Alice’s ears he sounded falselybright.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he repeated in English.

Will flashed the magazine he’d picked up from the table. “Just dropped by to get something to read.”

Francois -Baptiste cast his eye over the title and gave a short laugh.

“Doesn’t seem your thing.”

“You’d be surprised.”

The boy took a step towards Will. “You won’t last much longer,” he said in a low, bitter voice. “She’ll get bored of you and kick you out like all the rest. You didn’t even know she was going out of town, did you?”

“What goes on between her and me is none of your business, so if you don’t mind-”

Francois-Baptiste stepped in front of him. “Why the hurry?”

“Don’t push me, Francois-Baptiste, I’m warning you.”

Francois-Baptiste put his hand on Will’s chest to stop him passing.

Will pushed the boy’s arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

2›“Ca suffit” 2›

Both men spun round. Alice strained to get a better look, but the woman hadn’t come far enough into the room.

“What is going on?” she demanded. “Squabbling like children. Francois-Baptiste? ”William?“

2›“Rien, maman. Je lui demandais-‘ 2›

Will was looking stunned as he finally realised who it was who’d come in with Francois. “Marie-Cecile. I had no idea…” He faltered. “I wasn’t expecting you back just yet.”

The woman moved further into the room and Alice got a clear look at her face.

It can’t be.

Today, she was dressed more formally than the last time Alice had seen her, in a knee-length ochre skirt and matching jacket. Her hair was loose around her face rather than tied back with a scarf.

But there was no mistaking her. It was the same woman Alice had seen outside the Hotel de la Cite in Carcassonne. This was Marie-Cecile de l’Oradore.

She glanced from mother to son. The family resemblance was strong. The same profile, the same imperious air. The reason for Francois-Baptiste’s jealousy and the antagonism between him and Will now made sense.

“But, actually, my son has a point,” Marie-Cecile was saying. What are you doing in here?“

“I’ve been… I was just looking for something different to read. It’s been… lonely without you.”

Alice winced. He sounded utterly unconvincing.

“Lonely?” she echoed. “Your face tells a different story, Will.”

Marie-Cecile leaned forward and kissed Will on the mouth. Alice felt the embarrassment seep into the room. It was uncomfortably intimate.

She could see Will’s fists were clenched.

He doesn’t want me to see this.

The thought, bewildering as it was, came and went from her mind in the blinking of an eye.

Marie-Cecile released him, a glint of satisfaction on her face.

We’ll catch up later, Will. But now, I’m afraid, Francois-Baptiste and I have a little business to attend to. Desolee. So if you’ll excuse us.“

“In here?”

Too quick. Too obvious.

Marie-Cecile narrowed her eyes. Why not in here?“

“No reason,” he said sharply.

“Maman. II est dix-huit heures deja.”

“J’arrive,” she said, still looking suspiciously at Will.

“Mais, je ne…”

“Va le chercher,‘ she snapped. Go and get it.

Alice heard Francois-Baptiste storm out of the room, then watched Marie-Cecile put her arms around Will’s waist and pull him against her. Her nails were bright red against the white of his T-shirt. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

“Tiens,‘ said Marie-Cecile. A bientot.”

“Are you coming now?” said Will. Alice could hear the panic in his voice as he realised he was going to have to leave her trapped.

“Toute a I’heure.” Later.

Alice could do nothing. Just listen to the sound of Will’s feet walking out.

The two men crossed in the doorway.

“Here,” he said, handing his mother a copy of the same paper Will had been reading earlier.

“How did they get hold of the story so quickly?”

“I have no idea.” he said sulkily. “Authie, I suspect.”

Alice went rigid. The same Authie?

“Do you actually know that for a fact, Francois-Baptiste?” Marie-Cecile was saying.

“Well, someone must have told them. The police sent divers into the Eure Tuesday, in exactly the right place. They knew what they were looking for. Think about it. Who claimed there was a leak in Chartres in the first place? Authie. Did he ever actually produce any evidence that Tavernier had talked to the journalist?”

“Tavernie?”

“The man in the river,” he said acidly.

“Ah, of course.” Marie-Cecile lit a cigarette. The report mentions the Noublesso Veritable by name.

“Authie himself could have told them.”

“So long as there is nothing to connect Tavernier with this house, there’s no problem,” she said, sounding bored. “Is there anything?”

“I did everything you told me to do.”

“And you have prepared everything for Saturday?”

“Yes,” he admitted, “although without the ring or the book, I don’t know why we’re bothering.”

A smile flitted across Marie-Cecile’s red lips. “Well, you see, this is why we still need Authie, despite your evident mistrust of him,” she said smoothly. “He says he has, miracle, retrieved the ring.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before?” he said furiously.

“I’m telling you now,” she said. “He claims his men took it from the English girl’s hotel room in Carcassonne last night.”

Alice felt her skin turn cold. That’s impossible.

“You think he’s lying?”

“Don’t be idiotic, Francois-Baptiste,” she snapped. “Obviously, he’s lying. If Dr Tanner had taken it, it wouldn’t have taken Authie four days to get it. Besides, I had his apartment and his offices searched.”

“Then-”

She cut across him. “If- if- Authie does have it – which I doubt – then either he got it from Biau’s grandmother or else he’s had it all along. Possibly he took it from the cave himself.”

“But why bother?”

The phone rang, intrusive, loud. Alice’s heart leaped into her mouth.

Francois-Baptiste looked to his mother.

“Answer it,” she said.

He did what he was told. “Oui.”

Alice hardly dared breathe for fear she would give herself away.

“Oui, je comprends. Attends.‘ He covered the phone with his hand. ”It’s O’Donnell. She says she has the book.“

“Ask why she’s been out of touch.”

He nodded. Where’ve you been since Monday?“ He listened. ”Does anybody else know you have it?“ He listened. ”Okay. A vingt-deux heures. Demain soir.“

He put the receiver back in its cradle.

“Are you sure it was her?”

“It was her voice. She knew the arrangements.”

“He must have been listening in.”

“What do you mean?” he said, uncertainly. Who?“

“For crying out loud, who do you think?” she snapped. “Authie, of course.

“I-”

“Shelagh O’Donnell’s been missing for days. As soon as I’m safely out of the way in Chartres, O’Donnell reappears! First the ring, then the book.”

Francois-Baptiste finally lost his temper. “But you were just defending him!” he shouted. “Accusing me of jumping to conclusions. If you know he’s working against us, then why didn’t you tell me, instead of letting me make a fool of myself? More to the point, why don’t you stop him? Have you even ever asked yourself why he wants the books so badly? What he’s going to do with them? Auction them to the highest bidder?”

“I am well aware of precisely why he wants the books,” she said in a chill voice.

Why do you always have to do this? You humiliate me all the time!“

“The discussion is over,” she said. We’ll travel tomorrow. That will get us there in good time for your assignation with O’Donnell and for me to prepare myself. The ceremony will go ahead at midnight as planned.“

“You want me to meet her?” he said in disbelief.

“Well, obviously,” she said. For the first time, she heard some sort of emotion in her voice. “I want the book, Francois-Baptiste.”

“And if he doesn’t have it?”

“I don’t think he would go to all this trouble if he didn’t.”

Alice heard Francois-Baptiste walk across the room and open the door.

“What about him?” he said, a little of the fire returning to his voice. You can’t leave him here to-“

“Leave Will to me. He, also, is not your concern.”

Will was concealed in the cupboard in the kitchen passage.

It was cramped and smelled of leather coats, old boots and waxed jackets, but it was the only place that gave him a clear view of the library and study doors. He saw Francois-Baptiste come out first and go into the study, followed moments later by Marie-Cecile. Will waited until the door shut, then immediately emerged from the cupboard and ran across the hall to the library.

“Alice” he whispered. “Quick. We’ve got to get you out of here.” There was a slight sound, then she appeared. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “This is all it. Are you okay?”

She nodded, although she was deathly pale.

Will reached for her hand, but she refused to come with him.

“What is this all about, Will? You live here. You know these people and yet you’re prepared to throw it all away helping a stranger. It makes no sense.”

He wanted to say she wasn’t a stranger, but stopped himself.

“I…”

He didn’t know what to say. The room seemed to fade to nothing. All Will saw was Alice’s heart-shaped face and her unflinching brown eyes that seemed to be looking into the very heart of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you… that you and she…? That you lived here.”

He couldn’t meet her gaze. Alice stared at him a moment longer, then moved quickly across the room and out into the hall, leaving him to follow.

“What are you going to do now?” he said desperately.

“Well, I’ve learned how Shelagh’s connected with this house,” she said.

“She works for them.”

“Them?” he said, baffled, opening the front door so they could slip out. What do you mean?“

“But she’s not here. Madame de l’Oradore and her son are looking for her too. From what I heard, I’d guess she’s being held somewhere near Foix.”

Alice suddenly turned in a panic at the bottom of the steps.

“Will, I’ve left my bag in the library,” she said in horror. “Behind the sofa, with the book.”

More than anything, Will wanted to kiss her. The timing couldn’t be worse, they were caught up in a situation he didn’t understand, Alice didn’t even really trust him. And yet it felt right.

Without thinking, Will moved to touch the side of her face. He felt he knew exactly how smooth and cool her skin would feel, as if it was a gesture he’d made a thousand times before. Then the memory of the way she’d withdrawn from him in the cafe pulled him up short and he stopped, his hand a hair’s breadth from her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he started to say, as if Alice could read his mind. She was staring at him, then a brief smile flickered across her taut and anxious face.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he stumbled. “It’s…”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, but her voice was soft.

Will gave a sigh of relief. He knew she was wrong. It mattered more than anything in the world, but at least she wasn’t angry with him.

“Will,” she said, a little sharper this time. “My bag? It’s got everything in it. All my notes.”

“Sure, yes,” he said immediately. “Sorry. I’ll get it. Bring it to you.” He tried to focus. “Where are you staying?”

“Hotel Petit Monarque. On the Place des Epars.”

“Right,” he said, running back up the steps. “Give me thirty minutes.”

Will watched her until she was out of sight, then went back inside. There was a sliver of light showing under the study door.

Suddenly the door to the study opened. Will sprang back out of sight between the door and the wall. Francois-Baptiste came out and walked towards the kitchen. Will heard the pass door swing open and shut, then nothing.

Will pressed his face to the gap so he could see Marie-Cecile. She was sitting at her desk looking at something, something that glinted and caught the light when she moved.

Will forgot what he was supposed to be doing as he watched Marie Cecile stand up and lift down one of the paintings hanging on the wall behind her. It was her favourite piece of art. She told him all about it once, in the early days. It was a golden canvas with splashes of bright colour showing French soldiers gazing upon the toppled pillars and palaces of ancient Egypt. “On Gazing Upon the Sands of Time – 1799‘, he remembered. That was it.

Behind where the picture had been hanging was a small black metal door cut into the wall with an electronic keypad next to it. She punched six numbers. There was a sharp click and the door opened. From out of the safe, she lifted two black packages and carefully put them on the desk. Will adjusted his position, desperate to see what was inside.

He was so caught up that he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up find him.

“Don’t move.”

“Francois-Baptiste, I-”

Will felt the cold muzzle of a gun pressing into his side.

“And put your hands where I can see them.”

He tried to turn round, but Francois-Baptiste grabbed his neck and led his face flat against the wall.

“Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” Marie-Cecile called out. Francois-Baptiste jabbed him again.

“Je m’en occupe,” he said. Everything’s under control

Alice looked at her watch again.

He’s not coming.

She was standing in the reception of the hotel, staring at the glass doors as if she could conjure Will out of thin air. Nearly an hour had passed since she’d left rue du Cheval Blanc. She didn’t know what to do.

Her purse, her phone, car keys were all in her jacket pocket. Everything else was in her rucksack.

It doesn’t matter. Get away from here.

The longer she waited, the more she started to doubt Will’s motives.

The fact he’d appeared out of nowhere. Alice went over the sequence of events in her mind.

Was it really just coincidence they’d bumped into each other like that?

She’d told no one at all where she was going.

2›Then why hasn’t he come? 2›

At half-past eight, Alice decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She explained she wouldn’t need the room after all, scribbled a note for Will in case he came, giving her number, then went.

She threw the jacket on the car’s front seat and noticed the envelope sticking out of the pocket. The letter she’d been given at the hotel, which she’d forgotten all about. Alice pulled it out and put it on the dashboard to read when she stopped for a break.

Night fell as she drove south. The headlamps of the oncoming cars shone in her eyes, dazzling her. Trees and bushes leaped ghost-like out of the darkness. Orleans, Poitiers, Bordeaux, the signs flashed by.

Cocooned in her own world, for hour after hour, Alice asked herself the same questions over and again. Each time, she came up with a different answer.

Why? For information. She’d certainly handed that to them all right. All her notes, her drawings, the photograph of Grace and Baillard.

He promised to show you the labyrinth chamber.

She’d seen nothing. Just a picture in a book. Alice shook her head. She didn’t want to believe it.

Why did he help her get away? Because he’d got what he wanted; rather, what Madame de l’Oradore wanted.

So they can follow you.