Page 74 of The Devil Wears Orange
“The castle has many secrets, some I have yet to uncover, but that little boy of Laila’s is so inquisitive that he’s explored every inch of this castle.” Then to Laila, she says, “Which he wouldn’t do if he knew about the ghosts.”
“Hush with your nonsense.”
By late afternoon, Jack wanders the corridors of the Banning estate, playing a game of Hide and Seek with Laila’s little boy, Christian. He spies the five-year-old child enter a small room off the main dining room, but by the time Jack follows, Christian has disappeared.
“Christian,” he calls out in a whisper. “Christian. Where are you?”
“Boo!” The little boy shouts as he jumps out of a hidden pantry in the wall.
“Oh, what a hiding place you found there,” Jack says. “Any more places for you to hide?”
Christian laughs and runs under the dining room table.
“That’s not a good hiding place, now is it? Surely there are places more secretive than this that no one knows about.”
The little boy pops his head out from underneath, peers up at Jack with skepticism.
“Come out here,” Jack says and maneuvers the young boy toward the hallway that leads to nowhere where he knows a set of stairs existed at one time. “I’ll close my eyes and count to ten while you hide.”
Jack counts, fingers fanned across his face, and spies Christian press his finger to a knot in the floorboard. He then rotates it to the right, and the floor opens in.A secret passageway in the floor!No wonder Jack has been unable to find it. The little boy scampers down the hidden stairwell.
“Clever boy,” Jack mumbles to himself.
A man’s heated voice travels from the bottom of the opening. Jack falls back to hide behind a giant armoire and peeks around the corner. The same German from a couple of days ago climbs the steps and, gruffly admonishing the boy, pulls Christian alongside him down the hall toward the kitchen.
The little boy struggles. “Let go. I was only playing.”
When the German and Christian disappear, Jack rushes toward the secret passageway, which the German left open. He looks back, catches Laila’s voice apologizing to the German. He’ll be back soon. Jack steps down. Darkness hits him at first, and he takes his time descending so that he doesn’t trip and break his neck on the way down. Off in the distance, a dim light beckons. It’s a small room he’s led to with a single light bulb at its center, exposed wires running along the castle’s vast stone wall.
Dripping water echoes, breaking the silence. An arched doorway serves as an entryway to a large cave connected to the moat outside that surrounds the castle. The area, dark and dank, is empty except for the waterway. It used to be that humanwaste was dropped into the stagnant channels, the same water mere steps from where Jack stands. A putrid smell inflames his nostrils, but surely, it’s been more than a century since they ceased doing that. Still, Jack can’t understand what’s so secretive about this particular place.
Footsteps descend the hidden stairway, and Jack scrambles for some place to hide. He’d be exposed if he remains in this room. Jack moves forward as voices echo behind him. He spins, seeking some place to hide and finally darts in back of a pillar in a darkened corner. The German returns with another man Jack has never seen before, and a conversation erupts between the two in their mother tongue. It sounds very much like the grumblings of disgruntled workers.
At a set of large double doors painted in a color to blend into the stone that Jack hadn’t noticed earlier, the two men pause, then the new man presses his fingers against a keypad. The pad makes an awful, buzzing sound, and the German, irritated, says, “Come on, come on” in broken English. Again, the first man presses the keypad, but it garners the same result. Finally, the German swats the man away and, in a brisk voice, says aloud four distinct numbers that he presses in the keypad.
Jack memorizes the four digits, repeating the German numbers continuously in his head until it’s burned into his memory. He’s spent some time abroad in Germany. Indeed, he remembers the numbers he learned by rote from that time.
Within moments of the men entering the vault, Jack follows. His hands clasp the metal knobs of the double doors, and he peeks through the one open door. The men sound far away. Jack sneaks into the large room and into an open area where he can potentially be seen. This won’t do, and he sprints in the opposite direction away from the men. It’s warmer in here than out there, and feels like 70 degrees Fahrenheit, a perfect temperature to store the art in what must be a temperature-controlled room.Hidden by tall shelving units, Jack studies a display of art clustered haphazardly on the wall near him. They appear to be undistinguished works, most likely from lesser-known artists. Some he perceives as personal, more family heirloom than anything else. Could this be the art Rashid is looking for? The art the Nazi’s had stolen from the homes of prominent Jewish families?
On a shelving system that runs the room’s length, Jack lifts linen cloths to unveil numerous artifacts underneath – bronze sculptures, wooden carvings, and jewelry. He feels the room get warmer, or perhaps it’s just his nerves turning up the heat. He’s seen enough to know what’s down here and should get out before he gets caught, but a square item wrapped in velvet piques his interest. Wondrous things come in small packages. He plucks at the fabric, astonished to findThe Dawn, the famous painting by a 15th-century artist stolen from a small museum fifteen, maybe twenty years ago. And here he is, holding it in his hands. He quickly takes a picture of it with his tie clip and continues to the next find and the next, slinking soundlessly through the vault. He uncovers antiquities he believes are priceless, all the while taking photos of the items and the room’s layout.
German voices suddenly sound close. They may be in the aisle next to Jack’s. He’s unsure since he didn’t hear their footsteps. He’s been too engrossed in the find that he had nearly forgotten them. He looks for a way out, but one end of the aisle hits a wall and the other end would lead him to the open space. They’d find him within seconds. He plasters himself against the wall, his thighs screaming as he stays poised, ducked behind a giant stone sculpture. Jack holds his breath as the Germans pass. A box sounds as it scrapes along a shelf, items clinking beneath their voices. They’re too close. Jack waits trying to control hisbreathing, desperate not to move, promising he’ll do squats if he gets out of this, until the echo of the door locks him in the room.
Jack lets out a heavy breath and steps out from behind the statue, bouncing about to loosen his cramped legs. Near him, another velvet-wrapped painting rests against a far wall, the cover hanging loose at an angle, exposing a sliver of the image. Jack tugs on the velvet cover and, as it falls away, he’s gob-smacked by the Sonnenberg self-portrait.It can’t be.He analyses it more closely. Without the proper equipment, he can’t verify its authenticity, but given that most everything else in the room appears real to his trained eye, he believes he’s hit the jackpot. He clicks away with his tiepin, shot after shot. This cache is much more than they’ve bargained for. It makes him giddy and light-headed. He’d love to camp out down here, spend days among the works, study them, sleep with them, but he worries he’ll be missed upstairs and better go.
At the vault door, Jack keys in the four-digit code. It buzzes, but the door doesn’t open. He waits several seconds and tries again. Another buzz. Another attempt, quicker this time. Did he misinterpret what the Germans said? Rashid reported the vault was fingerprint sensitive, yet Jack noted nothing of the sort when he entered. Besides, how did the Germans find their way in without Banning’s fingerprints? Or was there a fingerprint pad that he hadn’t noticed? He had slipped in so quickly behind the Germans. How is he supposed to get out now?
Jack sucks in a breath and closes his eyes, calming himself. Releasing the breath, he opens his eyes. He tries the numbers again. The door won’t open. He looks around, panicked. How long will he be trapped? Jack pulls out his cell phone. Although he doesn’t want to, he has to call Rashid. His fingers stab at numbers, but there’s no cell service. He cry-laughs at his predicament, already calculating how long he can go without food and water.
Suddenly, the pad near him lights up, the numbers flashing as they’re pressed from the other side of the door. They’ve come back. The door unlocks and slides open. Jack bolts behind the door when the Germans re-enter. Their disgruntled banter continues and Jack wishes they’d take it elsewhere but they haven’t moved from the entrance. What if they close the door? There’s no place for him to hide. He’d be caught and fired. No, they wouldn’t fire him for being in the vault. They’d have no choice but to kill him now that he’s seen everything. Finally, they move away. As soon as their footsteps sound more distant, he peers out and sees them round a shelving unit. Jack darts out and races upstairs.
Chapter 41
Rashid and I arriveamong a deluge of fanfare. We’ve barely stepped into the manse when a crowd forms around us. Someone the Third says he knows Rashid’s father but it seems pretty evident to me that he does not. Then there’s a Sir and a Lady and a Count from Italy or Germany, I can’t quite place the accent, who won’t stop chatting to us about race horses.
“All this attention just won’t do,” Rashid whispers to me.
It will indeed make it difficult to blend in with the crowd before setting our plan in motion. “It’s still early,” I whisper back. My hand tucked into the loop of Rashid’s arm, I unclench my sweaty fist and remind myself to breathe and relax but I fidget anyway. Besides, it’s hard to hear myself think above my skirt’s rustling. The detachable voluminous taffeta skirt hides sleek pants underneath. “So much for picking a gown by a young, hot designer. Honestly, I feel like it’s prom night circa1986 and I’m not evenPretty In PinkMolly Ringwald. I’m Duckie before he cleaned up for prom.”
