Tom Harper - The Book of Secrets

‘What happened to Haltung?’

‘They killed him,’ said Emily. Her face was drained. ‘Those men, whoever they were. They shot him.’

On the far side of the shutter, the roar of air died away. The alarm bell had gone off – or perhaps, Nick thought, sound couldn’t travel in a vacuum.

‘What do we do now?’

Atheldene nodded to the steel shutters. ‘Nothing. The shutters can only be released from upstairs. Even if we could open them, it would be a bad idea. It’s like outer space on the other side.’

‘Then how do we get out?’ Nick looked around. There were no doors except the one to the main vault.

‘We’ll have to wait for the police to arrive. It shouldn’t be long.’

That was no comfort to Nick. He might be in Belgium, but the moment the cops ran his name through a computer they’d surely find out everything about him. He stared wildly around the room. There had to be an air vent, an escape hatch, a service tunnel. Anything. All he saw was a concrete prison. The only hint of a break was behind the machine, where a two-foot pipe led into the wall.

Nick examined it. ‘Almost a perfect vacuum’, Haltung had said. So the air had to go somewhere. There was a steel coupling where the pipe joined the wall, studded with four wing nuts. Nick ran over and twisted one of them. It didn’t budge.

He searched for something to hit it with and found a fire axe in a recess in the wall. He grabbed it, turned it round and hammered the nut with the flat end of the axe head. It shuddered, then shifted a few degrees. He kept going, bashing desperately until he had turned it a couple of rotations. The bolt itself must have been an inch thick, but now it was loose enough to be turned by hand.

‘Over here,’ he called to Emily. He pointed to the bolt. ‘See if you can get that out.’

She understood at once. Three more to go. Nick looked back at the shutters and wondered what was going on behind them. Had the police arrived? Had the men in balaclavas been asphyxiated, or had they escaped like he had before the vault was sealed?

The fourth bolt was the hardest of all. By the time he had it unlocked, Emily had removed the other three. He knelt beside her, their hands fumbling over each other like children with a Christmas present. Despite the chill air, Nick was sweating.

The bolt came free. Nick leapt back, expecting the pipe to drop like a stone. It didn’t move.

On the other side of the room, something banged against the shutters. In fury and frustration, Nick lifted his leg and slammed his foot against the pipe. It burst free of the coupling with a pop and fell to the ground, just missing his toes. A dark hole yawned in the wall. When he put his hand up to it, he felt a current of cold air.

‘Better than nothing,’ he muttered uncertainly. He looked back at the machine. ‘Is the book done?’

Atheldene looked at the dials. ‘It’ll be at least another hour until it comes up to room temperature.’

‘We don’t have time.’

‘What do you mean?’ Atheldene grabbed his arm. ‘That book’s priceless. You can’t yank it out halfway through the process.’

Nick shook him off and ran around to the control panel. He scanned the buttons until he found a large red knob labeled NOTAUSSCHALTUNG. Emergency shutdown. He slammed his palm against it. The whirring noise inside the machine died away. The lock clicked. He opened the door and slid out the book. It was cold to the touch, but not hard.

I don’t even know why I’m taking it, he thought to himself. But someone thought it was worth killing for.

‘It doesn’t belong to you,’ Atheldene protested. ‘Just wait for the police.’

‘I can’t.’

Nick put the book in his backpack with the card and handed it to Emily. Then he pushed himself head first into the hole. He was in a narrow concrete tunnel, barely wide enough to fit his shoulders. It went straight back for a few yards, then stopped in a sheer wall.

‘Air’s still got to go somewhere.’

He flapped a hand above his head and felt emptiness. He squirmed around until he lay on his back and looked up. A few feet overhead, he saw a lattice of bars silhouetted against the city glow in the sky. He tucked up his knees and pushed off, wriggling up the shaft until he could touch the grille. It lifted free without resistance. He slid it back, hauled himself through the opening and flopped onto frozen grass.

He’d come out on the side of the building. While Emily pulled herself out after him, Nick got up and edged his way around to the front. A body lay sprawled on the asphalt beside the guard hut, another by the steps going up to the front door. A black Lexus 4x4 with Italian plates was parked diagonally across the car park, blocking in Atheldene’s Jaguar.

Sirens wailed in the frozen night – distant, but racing ever closer. How was he going to get out of there? There were no other vehicles in the car park and no signs of life at any of the adjacent units. Deep in the heart of the sprawling industrial estate, they wouldn’t get far on foot.

And that was when he heard the music.

At first he thought it was a hallucination, his ears still ringing from the noise in the basement. But it didn’t go away, or start repeating itself the way snatches of songs usually did. He listened. It was Bob Marley, just about the most incongruous thing he could have imagined. It seemed to be coming from the Lexus.

One track ended and another began. Nick looked closer and saw there was exhaust coming from the Lexus’ tailpipe, clouding the night. Was there someone inside? He crept closer, trying to see beyond the headrest. A floodlight on the wall beamed through the windscreen: if there had been anyone inside, it would have made a perfect silhouette. He couldn’t see anyone. And the engine was running.

He slid alongside it, keeping below the windows, and reached for the handle of the driver’s door. With a deep breath, he yanked it open.

Hot air spilled out of the warm interior. The car was empty. Nick jumped into the driver’s seat and threw the gear lever into reverse. The accelerator was more sensitive than he was used to: the car jolted backwards with a squeal of tyres. In the rear-view mirror, he saw Emily running across the grass from the open air shaft carrying his bag. Then, suddenly, she seemed to trip. She pitched forward on her hands and knees and disappeared from view.

Nick looked around again. The front door to the warehouse had burst open; another man in a balaclava was standing on the steps with a gun in his hand. He looked around wildly; the sirens were getting louder.

Emily pulled open a back door and hurled herself onto the seat. The moment Nick saw she was in the car, he gunned the engine. In his panic and unfamiliarity, he almost rammed into a lamp post; swung away, only to veer towards the guard hut. His erratic driving probably saved him. The passenger window exploded as the gunman on the steps finally realised what was happening; a shower of glass sprayed through the car, slicing Nick’s arms and face, but the bullet went wide. Nick barely noticed. He was through the gates. He swung the car onto the access road and hit the gas.

Strassburg

‘I feel honour bound to tell you, madam, that I am no longer as secure a prospect as I was. I have made certain investments which have not returned what I hoped. These have incurred debts which will divert most, if not all, of my income. Under the circumstances, I would not blame you if you preferred to break off my suit of marriage for your daughter.’

Ellewibel’s face never changed as she listened to my rehearsed words.

‘That is very good of you, Herr Gensfleisch. Such honesty does you credit. Indeed, it only confirms the good opinion I have formed of your character. For that reason alone I would never stand in the way of this match. My late husband was a merchant: I know how fortunes may rise and fall. It is faith and character that make a man what he is. In those I know my daughter will not be disappointed.’