“M and A are in the building,” Maurice said softly, his voice filling Amelie’s ear.
“We’ve got your six,” Remy’s voice came through. “Go get it.”
This was it. The chance to bring the work of a master back into the light. A thrill of anticipation rippled through Amelie as she strode alongside Maurice through the cavernous cathedral.
Along the way, Amelie forced a smile and pretended to admire paintings, stained glass and the beauty of the architecture around her. Any other time, she wouldn’t have to fake it.
Now that she was on the trail of a lost treasure that might or might not be hidden in the clock tower, she pushed her personal worries to the back burner and forged ahead.
Bells rang, announcing the quarter hour. The sound echoed long after the bells stopped ringing.
“Fifteen minutes until they ring again,” Maurice noted.
They wouldn’t want to be in the bell tower when the next bells tolled. The sound would be deafening.
They came to a door tucked into a shadowy corner. The sign posted on the panel read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Amelie reached for the knob as Maurice automatically reached for the file in the knife scabbard.
Expecting the door to be locked, Amelie was surprised when the knob turned freely. She pulled the door open and looked at Maurice.
He stepped around her and took point, trading the file for one of the knives, arming himself in case they ran into trouble.
The first set of steps was wide and polished, leading to a landing, a turn and more steps, then another landing, another turn and more steps, before continuing upward to the floor with the clock overlooking Jackson Square.
“PASS TIME,” Amelie murmured as they rose above the clock.
The stairs narrowed, curving upward, forcing them to ascend single file. Maurice, still in the lead, climbed steadily upward. They passed four smaller bells, two above them, and finally reached the largest bell that hung over the others. Light shining through a round window illuminated a beam with the image of an eagle burned into the wood. Beneath it was the year 1949.
Amelie stretched her arm out and ran her fingers across the image of the eagle. “EGL. Eagle.”
“Damned door’s locked. Working it.” Xavier’s voice startled Amelie in the silence of the bell tower.
She turned on the staircase. With the bells taking up the center of the tower, there was no floor, only beams crisscrossing the space. Some held the weight of the bells beneath them. Others carried the weight of the roof above.
“EGL for eagle, but why the W?” Amelie whispered in deference to the sanctity of the cathedral and the bells. “And which WALL?”
“The W might not be part of EGL. It could be telling us which wall,” Maurice said. “West.”
He turned in that direction and studied the wall accessible only by the beam leading to it.
“Stay here,” Maurice said, and then stepped off the stairs onto the beam suspended in the air over the layers of bells below. Placing one foot in front of the other on a joist narrower than a gymnast’s balance beam, Maurice spread his arms wide. One false step or stumble, and he could fall all twenty or more feet to the nearest floor located at the clock level. Add the probability of slamming into bells and beams along the way, and the ultimate landing wouldn’t be pretty.
Amelie’s gut clenched the further he moved away from her. She couldn’t reach out and steady him. All she could do was hold her breath until he reached the west wall.
“FIND US THERE,” she said, her voice shaking with anxiety.
Maurice finally reached the wall and braced his hands against it. For a long moment, he studied a section of wood paneling.
“What do you see?” Amelie asked.
“Initials carved into a single panel.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and shined a light at the wall. “G + C.”
Amelie’s heart fluttered, and her pulse picked up, racing so fast her head spun. “Find us here. You found them. Germaine and Celine. You found the spot.”
Maurice felt along the seam between the wood panels, tugged, pushed and frowned. “If this is the place, all they left were their initials.” He looked over his shoulder at Amelie. “Any ideas?”
“Maybe it’s not just the single panel that moves.” Amelie itched to be there next to him, working with him to figure out how to get behind the panel.
