“Twenty-seven floors to go,” I said. “Can you make it?”
“The freight elevator—we can take that,” Uncle Farrell gasped.
I pushed open the stairway door and pushed Uncle Farrell too, down the dark hall to the freight elevator. He fumbled with his keys, fussing at me the whole time. What was the matter with me, taking on a bunch of saber-shaking monks? He said I had screwed up everything, particularly his life. I was thinking about the duffel bag I had left in the hall outside Samson’s office. I think I read somewhere that the cops can pull fingerprints off fabric.
Uncle Farrell was right: I had screwed up everything, his life and mine too.
He finally found the right key and when the elevator doors opened, we fell inside and he hit the lobby button. We leaned against the back wall of the elevator and tried to catch our breaths.
The doors opened onto the lobby. “Mr. Myers was right,” I said. “This isn’t your ordinary sword.”
We stepped into the lobby.
“Where’d you learn to swing a sword like that?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer, which was a good thing, because I didn’t have one.
“You broke the code?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Well, you’re just a young man of many hidden talents, aren’t you? What was the code?”
“Two-five-three-seven-three-three.”
“What’s that?”
“That,” I said, “is my name.”
He stared at me. I said, “It also could be ‘Alepee,’ but that doesn’t make much sense.”
“Neither do you. Somebody ratted us out, Alfred.”
“Or maybe the desktop was wired,” I said.
“Right. Alarm goes off in the monastery and the monks break from vespers and scramble for battle.”
The lobby was eerily quiet, except for the splashing of the water in the fountain.
“What happened to the cops?” I asked.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” he growled. “It’s true. Never one around when you need one.” He told me the third monk was waiting for him in the lobby when he stepped out of the elevator. He put a sword to his throat and took Uncle Farrell straight back to the penthouse.
Uncle Farrell stopped at his desk and hit the switches. The monitors flickered back to life. The hall on the top floor was empty. I looked at the wall behind the desk where the red indicator lights showed the location of all six elevators. The express elevator was still on the top floor.
“They took the stairs,” I said.
“What do we do now?” Uncle Farrell asked. It was as if holding the sword put me in charge.
I thought about it. “Call the cops.”
“Huh?”
“Maybe the monks or whoever they are intercepted the automatic emergency call. Call the cops, Uncle Farrell.”
“And tell them what?”
“Tell them you’ve got three guys, maybe more, running around with swords.” I reached around him again and hit a button that was labeled “Alarm.” A red light began to flash on the panel.
“Okay, and while I’m waiting for the cops I think I’ll whip up a snack for me and the monks when they get here. What are you talking about, Alfred?”