The Diamond Thief (15 page)

“Oh?” she asked. “And how is that?”

“I could use someone like you. Someone… quick and agile. I very much enjoyed watching your display at the Tower of London and I must admit I was impressed that you made it onto the roof.”

Rémy sensed Thaddeus stiffen as she remembered how close he had come to catching her that night. She wondered where she would be right now if he had.

“Rémy,” Thaddeus said quietly, his voice unsure.

“Join me. You could be very useful… Little Bird.”

Rémy blinked, trying not to reveal her surprise. From the corner of her eye she saw Thaddeus clench his hands and shake his head, but ignored him.

“Why would I do that?” she asked Abernathy instead. “What would be in it – for me?”

Abernathy laughed his high, shrill laugh again. “Well,” he said. “You’d have to join me to find out, my lady Brunel. Join me or stay locked away down here in this cell with your dead friend and a useless policeman. I know you need the Ocean of Light. I was there when your parents were cursed, remember? And who knows? One day I may no longer have need of it. If you were to show yourself worthy…” He stepped away with a brief grin and a small shrug. “It is your choice, of course. But make it quickly.”

Rémy deliberated. Join Abernathy? It seemed preposterous, but as she thought about it, the idea became more and more appealing. It would get her out of this prison, after all, and give her a chance to find out where the diamond was being held.

She felt Thaddeus’ eyes on her, and met his anxious gaze. “Don’t,” he said. “I – Rémy, don’t. He’s a villain. And you – you have a good heart. I know you do. I trust you, Rémy Brunel. Don’t even think about doing this.”

Rémy held his gaze. So, he trusted her. He thought she had a good heart. But now he believed she was genuinely considering joining Abernathy’s side. He thought she might turn. The realisation made her angry and she looked away from him. All she wanted was the stone and she knew she must do anything necessary to get it. Of course, if she stayed with Thaddeus Rec, he’d do everything he could to make sure she didn’t.

Seventeen

The Truth Will Out

Rémy nodded. “
D’accord
,” she told Abernathy. “Let’s go. Get me out of here.”

“Rémy,” she heard Thaddeus say.

“You’ll be safe here, little policeman,” she responded, without looking at him. “You can’t get into any trouble here.”

“For God’s sake!” Thaddeus stepped in front of Rémy before she could follow Abernathy out of the cell, forcing her to look at him. “You can’t help him.”

Rémy narrowed her eyes. “Why not? We don’t even know what he’s doing yet. It may turn out to be something good.”

Thaddeus laughed in disbelief. “He’s kidnapping people! He’s keeping them as slaves! Whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it with slave labour.”

Rémy stuck out her chin. “Plenty of things we now think are wonderful were built by slaves, Thaddeus. Or have you forgotten that?”

“That’s not the p–”

“Miss Brunel!” Abernathy’s voice thundered from the tunnel outside. “Come now, or I lock you in.”

Rémy shrugged. “I must go.”

“Don’t,” said Thaddeus, catching her uninjured arm. “Please. Why are you doing this? This isn’t you, I know it isn’t.”

Rémy shrugged him off as she headed after Abernathy. “How can you possibly know that?” she asked over her shoulder. “You haven’t even known me a week of days. By the turn of the new moon, you will have forgotten me.”

One of Abernathy’s men clanged the cell door shut behind her. She stopped and looked back, just for a moment. Thaddeus stood on the other side of the door, gripping the bars. Behind him, Desai’s body still lay in the dirt where he had perished.

“I won’t,” he said as she turned to leave. “I won’t forget you, Rémy Brunel. I wouldn’t. I can’t. Stay here. With me. Please.”

Rémy paused again. She remembered the first time she had seen him, looking up at her from the sawdust into which he’d fallen after he tried to save her. And here he was, trying to save her yet again – but this time, from herself.

“Stop trying to rescue me, Thaddeus Rec,” she said. “We are what we are. I am a thief. You are a policeman. I steal, and you try to stop me. You are on the right side of the law, and I will always be outside it. That’s all. Don’t pretend that we are more than we are. We never were. We never will be.”

“Last chance, Miss Brunel.” Rémy looked up to see Abernathy a little way along the passage with the Professor. “I am not a patient man.”

“I’m coming,” she said. As she walked away, she could feel Thaddeus’ eyes on her until the stone corridor finally kinked and saved her from his gaze.

* * *

As Thaddeus watched Rémy go, his heart turned to lead. How could she do it? How could she leave him here alone, to put herself in league with a murderer?

As she and his captors disappeared from sight, Thaddeus turned away from the bars and let himself sink to the ground. He shouldn’t be surprised by Rémy’s change of heart, he knew that. She’d said it herself – they hadn’t even known each other a week, and they were so different. Their lives were so different. Rémy seemed to accept that she was a thief – part of him thought she even enjoyed it. Whereas he, on the other hand, could not bear the thought of owning something he had not honestly earned. They were chalk and cheese as Mrs Carmichael, his landlady, would surely say. Too different to live peaceably, that was for sure. And yet, this... He had thought she was better than this. And he’d hoped...

Thaddeus rubbed a hand over his face, shaking the thought away. There was no point, she was gone and he was on his own in a cell with little hope of rescue. He looked at Desai’s body, still lying where he had died such a senseless, ignominious death. The noble man’s face was uncovered still, his arms lying limp by his sides in the dirt.

Thaddeus pulled himself to his feet and walked over to the dead man. Intending to give Desai at least a little dignity, he went to pull the Indian’s robe up over his face.

A movement caught Thaddeus’ eye. He stared for a moment, and then shook himself. Desai was dead – of course he hadn’t moved. Thaddeus took hold of the robe again and was about to lay it over Desai’s face when the dead man drew a great, shuddering, stuttering breath – an unexpected gasp for air. Thaddeus started in shock, dropping the cloth in his hands as Desai coughed and struggled to open his eyelids.

“Desai?” Thaddeus asked, rapidly getting over his fright. He placed one hand on the man’s shoulder, the other on his warm cheek. “My God – you’re alive!”

Desai blinked up at Thaddeus, his eyes clouded. “So...” he managed, weakly, “so… it would appear...”

Thaddeus fumbled at the man’s chest, where the bullet had torn through his robes. There was a hole, proving that there had definitely been a bullet. Thaddeus pulled his hand away – it was smeared red but as he held it up in the dim light he realized something.

“This isn’t blood! Desai...”

Desai struggled to move and Thaddeus supported him until he was sitting upright, his back leaning against the cell bars. He touched his hand to his chest with a frown, and then pulled apart his robes to reveal the bare skin beneath. Something tinkled faintly among the folds as he pushed aside the material and, a moment later, Desai pulled out several tiny shards of glass.

“The vial,” he muttered. “It must have been hit.”

Thaddeus shook his head. “But what happened to the bullet? It cannot have hit you. Maybe – maybe, somehow, the cloth was enough to stop it.”

Desai shook his head, rearranging his robes and coughing again. “It hit me,” he said. “I felt it, right here.” He pointed to his chest, just above his heart.

“Then – how?”

Desai shut his eyes again, shaking his head. “It must have been the contents of the vial. The concoction is a very old remedy, and very strong. The Pashtuns used to smear it on their bodies before going out to face your British rifles. I have never seen it cheat death before, but...” he shrugged, opening his eyes again. “It is not generally used in such concentrated doses.”

Thaddeus nodded, still unable to quite take it all in. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “You’re not dead. You should be dead, but... You’re not dead!”

Desai offered a wan smile. “If it is any consolation,” he said, “I do not feel at all well.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Desai shook his head and then looked around slowly. “We are alone?”

Thaddeus sat back against the bars beside Desai, resting his arms on his drawn-up knees. “Yes.”

“They both followed him? The Professor and Rémy Brunel?”

Thaddeus swallowed, annoyed to feel the lump that had risen in his throat. “Yes. Both of them.”

Desai reached out to place a trembling hand on Thaddeus’ shoulder. “I am sorry, my friend. I should have suspected the Professor but, I confess, I did not.”

Thaddeus’ eyes blurred and he looked down at the floor, unable to speak.

“As for Rémy Brunel – please remember the curse before you think too badly of her.”

“The curse?” Thaddeus croaked. “What do you mean?”

“Were you not listening when I explained it?” Desai asked. “She carries it, the same as her parents. She is destined to drive away the one she loves. I saw it already beginning to work, even before I had explained it to her. She is a victim as much as you and I, Thaddeus, and her actions may not be of her own volition. However, I have hope. She is a strong girl, in both body and mind. I think you may find she has a plan all of her own to which you were not privy.”

Thaddeus stared at the floor, trying to follow all that Desai had told him. But his mind kept getting caught on one detail.

“Wait,” he said. “Wait – you said that the curse would be activated when – when...”

“When she fell in love, yes. Her parents were already very much in love, of course, with each other. But in Rémy’s case…”

Thaddeus interrupted, frowning. “So, if the curse has been activated now, surely that means... that means...”

Desai smiled. “Yes?”

Thaddeus shook his head. His heart was turning over painfully. “No. It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter. Forget I brought it up.”

Desai laughed softly, shaking his head. “Ah, to be young again, with all the agony it brings...”

Thaddeus felt his cheeks reddening, and cleared his throat. “Are you feeling well enough to stand?”

“I believe I might be, said Desai, evidently still amused.

“Good,” said Thaddeus, getting sharply to his feet. “Because there must be some way out of this cell. I suggest we look for it.”

* * *

Rémy followed Lord Abernathy and the Professor through the winding corridors of earth and rock. She tried to make out whether any of the places they were walking now were paths she had trodden before but, for her at least, it was impossible to tell. At one point, they reached a fork in the tunnels and from deep within one she could hear the relentless clanging from Abernathy’s slave mine. Most of Abernathy’s men left them here – they bowed deeply to their master and disappeared, one by one, down the corridor that led to the mine. Rémy thought about J and felt a jolt of anxiety laced with guilt. But there was nothing she could do to help him. Not right now, anyway.

“Come now, Miss Brunel, no daydreaming,” called Abernathy. Rémy realized that they had walked ahead and left her standing, thinking about her friend. “There is nothing of interest in this part of the labyrinth, my dear.”

She hurried to catch up, as Abernathy led them on still further. The tunnel they were in banked suddenly, curving to the right and then – to Rémy’s surprise – widening out and ending abruptly in a flight of steps. Two more huge guards were standing either side of the tunnel, dressed in something resembling a uniform – trousers and loose shirts, both cut from a cloth of deep red and held in place by a wide cummerbund. Their clothes made Rémy think of Desai’s flowing robes – but what really caught her attention were the glittering, curved blades of their drawn swords.

“At ease, at ease,” Abernathy told them affably, as the small group neared and then drew to a halt. “All is well, as you can see.”

The two men bowed deeply, re-sheathing their weapons. “Lord Abernathy.”

He nodded to them in return, sweeping between them and down the steps, which here were carved straight out of the compacted earth. Ahead of them was another short passageway, lit by flickering gas lamps that hung on the walls. This tunnel ended in a wall of rock into which had been fitted a narrow wooden door. Rémy could hear distant, echoing noises from beyond it. Men shouting, heavy objects being moved – the busy whirr and conference of industry.

Abernathy strode to the door and flung it open, stepping out onto the wooden platform that lay beyond. “And see here, Miss Brunel – behold, the future, right here.”

Abernathy moved his arm in an expansive gesture, sweeping it out around him as if he were showing her the world. Rémy stepped forward onto the wooden parapet, and her mouth fell open in amazement.

They were standing above another cavern like the one she, Thaddeus and J had first found themselves in after their journey through the sewer. But this one was twice as large. And what lay within was many times more astonishing. Rémy was stunned into silence.

Everywhere she looked was a new wonder to behold. Largest of all of them were four silver vessels that looked to be related to the one they had seen in that first room they had emerged into from the sewer – was it only days ago? It seemed like years, so much had happened inbetween. They looked like boats, ships, almost, their hulls hammered smooth enough to shine, their bows sharpened to vicious points that glinted in the harsh light. At the stern of each was a huge mechanical contraption that resembled the spokes of a wheel without the outer ring, and a sloped walkway that could evidently be sealed up for travel, but for now lay open. The upper decks were encased in domes of glass, clear enough for Rémy to see through. She observed several men, all moving purposefully, carrying boxes, barrels and bags this way and that within the enclosed space of the ship. They were dressed in the same uniforms of red that she had seen on the two guards, and they all bore the same forbidding-looking swords.

The ships stood not on the dirt floor, but supported on huge wooden struts that were built from the whole trunks of trees, strong enough to take their weight. Between each vessel was a wooden walkway, with steps leading down to the ground and up to a platform that ran around the edge of the room. There were two entrances onto the platform – one on which Rémy now stood, and one directly opposite on the other side of the cavern.

The ships were not the only items of wonder. Below them, filling almost every spare inch of the cavern’s base, were more of the suits she had seen. But as with the ships, these suits were streamlined – clearly a better version. Though still metal, they seemed to be jointed in more places, allowing for easier movement. Besides the glass helmet, they also had tanks attached to their backs, as if for carrying water. Since the suit was completely enclosed, however, Rémy wondered whether they might be for carrying air, instead. Standing beside the rows of metal suits was something else, too – racks of something more recognisable, though still strange. Rifles – hundreds of them – all equipped with the cruel spike of a bayonet, but also a strange glass bulb of purple gas like the Professor’s gas pistol. Alongside them were more swords.

“Your silence does you credit, Miss Brunel,” said Abernathy. “In truth, it is a sight too wondrous for words, is it not?”

Rémy blinked, but realized that what she was feeling was not wonder but fear. In all the amazing sights below her, she could see no peaceful use for these machines. Instead, it seemed clear to her that Abernathy was preparing for war. The suits were lined up like an army and, in truth, why else would he need such a wealth of weaponry?

“Extraordinary, indeed,” she said.

“Ah, but my dear young lady – you have not seen the best of it yet!”

Lord Abernathy stepped to the edge of the parapet and leaned over the railing. He called down to one of the uniformed men, shouting a stream of short words in a language Rémy did not understand. The man below nodded and bowed, running immediately to one of the machines. There was a short delay and then, suddenly, a panel slid open in the side of the vessel. There was a clattering sound, and Rémy could see a wooden structure unfurling from the open space, growing as it did so, into a cloth-covered wing. She stared at it.