The Resurrection Key

by Andy McDermott

‘Lots of cops about,’ he replied. ‘This is a big tourist attraction – they don’t let anyone cause trouble.’ She wasn’t reassured.

  They passed sex shops and porn cinemas and greasy-smelling fast-food joints, eventually coming to a circular plaza at an intersection. ‘Oh, I’ve heard about this!’ said Eddie with enthusiasm.

  The metal outlines of five figures stood around the circle. All held musical instruments: four guitars and one set of drums.

  ‘Who are they?’ Nina asked.

  ‘It’s the Beatles! John, Paul, George and Ringo. They played in clubs here before they got famous.’ He stood behind one of the guitarists, striking a matching pose with an air instrument.

  She looked at the lonely fifth figure. ‘So who’s that?’

  ‘Stuart Sutcliffe. Or Pete Best. One of the fifth Beatles.’

  Cheng regarded the statues with curiosity. ‘What are the Beatles?’

  Eddie gave him an incredulous look. ‘You’ve never heard of the Beatles?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘One of the most famous bands of all time?’

  He shook his head. ‘Sorry, Mr Chase. I don’t know them.’

  Nina laughed. ‘Eddie, he was only born eighteen years ago. It’d be like expecting you to know the big names in pre-war jazz!’

  ‘This is why I feel old,’ the Englishman complained, before facing a street leading north. ‘Anyway, that’s the Große Freiheit. Where exactly are we going?’

  Cheng examined his map again. ‘Behind a theatre near the far end. There’s an alley next to a bar.’

  ‘A back alley in a red-light district? Yeah, that sounds safe,’ said Nina as they set off again.

  ‘I’ll watch out for you both,’ Eddie assured her.

  They made their way up the Große Freiheit. The bustling street was even more open than the Reeperbahn about its trade. Neon blazed, flashing signs and loud music trying to entice punters into the bars and clubs and shows. The couple noticed with amusement that Cheng was trying desperately not to gawp at the more outré passers-by: thigh-booted women and transvestites, a bare-chested man in leather trousers and a bright pink pimp hat complete with peacock feather, a man and woman dressed head to foot in shiny black rubber and bondage harnesses.

  ‘See anything you like?’ Eddie joked.

  ‘No, no,’ Cheng mumbled, redirecting his gaze towards his feet.

  ‘Where’s this alley?’ Nina asked.

  He checked the phone. ‘Next to a bar called Fausters.’

  Eddie chuckled. ‘Guess it’s a gay bar, then.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Faust is German for fist. So it’s literally called “Fisters”.’

  The young man was puzzled, then his eyes popped wide as he realised the meaning. ‘Oh! But, but we don’t need to go inside,’ he stammered.

  ‘You don’t want to expand your horizons? And other things.’

  ‘Eddie,’ Nina chided, seeing Cheng’s embarrassment deepen.

  Her husband laughed again.

  Fausters was not hard to find; its neon sign was in the shape of a clenched fist surrounded by a heart. A theatre across the alley beside it was emblazoned with posters for drag acts. ‘This is it,’ said Cheng.

  Eddie looked down the narrow passage. A couple of theatre employees were smoking outside a side entrance. ‘Looks safe, but I’ll go first anyway.’

  He led the way. ‘How do we find this guy?’ Nina asked.

  ‘There’s an apartment block behind the theatre. He’s in number five.’

  They rounded a corner, entering a small courtyard. Nina crinkled her nose at the stench from a pile of garbage bags atop an overloaded dumpster. Cheng led them to a doorway beside it.

  ‘Nice,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how people could live here. Never mind the smell – listen to the noise!’ Thudding basslines from the theatre and bar competed in volume.

  ‘If you live here, you’re probably working nights,’ said Eddie. ‘Or so desperate for a roof over your head that you don’t care.’

  ‘Or you’re the kind of person who sells stolen artefacts over the dark web. Let’s see if he’s home.’

  Cheng pushed an intercom button. A pause, then a curt ‘Ja?’ came from the speaker.

  ‘Hello?’ he said. ‘It’s Hui Cheng.’

  Someone peered down from a window, then the voice returned. ‘Come in.’ A lock released with a clack.

  Eddie opened the door. A motion-activated light flicked on, revealing a cramped and grubby hall. He led them up the narrow staircase to the first landing. ‘Here, number five.’ He rapped on the door.

  A man peered warily out before swinging it wider. ‘In, in,’ he said, gesturing impatiently.

  They entered an untidy studio overlooking the courtyard, a single bed in one corner. The man, a weather-beaten thirty-something with a scruffy beard, regarded the trio suspiciously before turning to Cheng. ‘You are Hui, yes?’

  Cheng nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘The eyes gave it away.’ He looked at Nina. ‘And I can tell from the tits that you are Nina Wilde.’

  Eddie glared at him. ‘And you can tell from my fist that you’ll have no teeth if you talk to my wife like that again.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Her husband, obviously.’

  Nina thought the man was about to object to Eddie’s presence, but then he turned back to Cheng, eyeing his bag. ‘You have the money?’

  ‘You have the artefact?’ she countered.

  ‘Of course. Show me the money, and you can see it.’

  Nina exchanged a look with Eddie – neither of them remotely trusted their host – but Cheng unzipped the holdall, revealing bundles of two-hundred-euro notes. The man stared greedily at them, then smiled. ‘Jakob Krämer. Good to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise, I’m sure,’ Nina replied sarcastically. ‘You’ve seen what you want; now show us what you’ve got.’

  Krämer gave the money another hungry look, then slid a canvas duffel bag from beneath the bed. He withdrew a tightly bound bundle of clothes, which he started to unwrap. ‘I suppose you want to know where it came from.’

  ‘It’d help, yeah.’

  ‘I was crew on a cargo ship going from New Zealand to South Africa. We answered a distress call and found a man on an ice floe. He was carrying this.’

  ‘You stole it?’ said Nina, appalled. ‘You rescued this guy, then robbed him?’

  ‘The man is insane! He had no use for it. He was screaming about demons.’

  ‘You said is insane,’ Eddie noted. ‘Present tense.’

  ‘He’s still alive?’ Nina asked.

  Krämer nodded. ‘He is in a mental hospital in Holland. Still crazy.’

  ‘What, you checked up on him to make sure he won’t tell anyone about what you stole?’

  The German ignored her, peeling away the last of the clothing. ‘Here it is. The key.’

  He held it up. The artefact was bigger than Nina had thought, about nine inches across. Even in the low light, she instantly knew from the metal’s reddish gleam that it was the gold alloy the Atlanteans called orichalcum. ‘The key to what?’

  ‘He did not say.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Not much. As I told you, he is insane. He said a demon frozen in the ice woke up and killed his shipmates. His ship must have sunk, because we did not see it.’

  Nina frowned. ‘A demon?’

  ‘That is what he said. So he must be crazy, ja? There is no such thing.’ Krämer lowered the key. ‘Now, it is time to talk business. You still want to buy it?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Cheng.

  ‘Then you will surely be willing to pay a little extra money.’

  Eddie rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, here we go.’

  The colour drained from Cheng’s face. ‘But .
. . we had a deal.’

  ‘There are others interested. But you were the first, so I will be fair and give you the chance to buy it now.’

  Nina regarded him coldly. ‘How much do you want?’

  ‘One hundred thousand euros.’

  Cheng blinked; Nina blanched; Eddie laughed. ‘You’re taking the piss!’ exclaimed the Yorkshireman. ‘That’s twice what you were asking!’

  ‘If the famous Nina Wilde is willing to come to Germany to see it, it must be more valuable than I thought. If you want it, you will pay what I ask.’

  ‘I . . . I can get the money,’ said Cheng, flustered. ‘But I don’t know how long it will take. I have to call China, talk to my – my family.’

  Nina found herself saying words that surprised even her. ‘I can pay the rest.’

  ‘You what?’ Eddie erupted.

  ‘We can afford it. And this artefact looks genuine – which means it’s worth every penny.’

  Krämer looked at the key. ‘Then perhaps I should ask for even more.’

  ‘Perhaps you should ask for a boot up your arse,’ the Englishman snapped. ‘Nina, are you out of your bloody mind? Fifty grand! That’s like giving him Macy’s college fund!’

  ‘I don’t think you appreciate just how much an Ivy League education costs . . .’ But she was already wavering. Eddie was right: without the financial backing of the university or her former employer, the International Heritage Agency, she would effectively be taking money from her family to indulge her archaeological curiosity.

  The thought of Macy swayed her. ‘No, you’re right,’ she admitted. ‘That was a dumb idea. I think younger me took over for a moment. Sorry, Mr Krämer, but I’ve changed my mind.’

  The sailor was taken aback. ‘If you do not buy it now, I will sell it to someone else,’ he insisted.

  ‘And then you’ll try to stiff them too? Dangerous business.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Eddie rumbled. ‘You might try it on someone who isn’t as nice as us.’

  ‘I can get the money,’ Cheng insisted. He raised his phone. ‘I will call now—’

  Nina put her hand over it. ‘Cheng, no. We should leave.’

  He looked at her in surprise. ‘But the key – it could prove my theory!’

  She had already had similar thoughts: the artefact could be new evidence of a civilisation that long pre-dated humanity. But that was a can of worms she was unsure she wanted to reopen – and besides, a little voice at the back of her mind warned that Krämer was full of shit. ‘It might, or it might not,’ she told the Chinese youth. ‘But this guy, this thief, is just out to rip you off. I don’t believe there are any other buyers at all. Maybe we should set the price – and it’ll be a damn sight less than fifty thousand euros.’

  ‘Easy way to find out,’ said Eddie. ‘We’ll go and see how long it takes him to call us back.’

  ‘No, I can get the money,’ said Cheng. ‘I want to—’

  ‘Mr Hui,’ Nina said firmly. ‘Do you want to pass my class?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Then do what I tell you! Remember what I said about young people not listening to older people with the experience to know what the hell they’re talking about? This is one of those times. Come on. We’re going.’

  He huffed, summoning the courage to challenge her. ‘No, no. You can’t make me!’

  She almost laughed. ‘Wow, it’s like Macy came with us!’

  ‘She might not be able to make you,’ said Eddie. ‘But I can.’ While the Yorkshireman was fairly stocky, he was still taller than Cheng, and he moved closer to loom over him.

  ‘Cheng,’ said Nina, ‘let’s go. Now.’ She closed his bag, then started for the door. The young man reluctantly followed, Eddie behind him.

  Krämer scuttled to catch up. ‘Okay, we can still make a deal! Eighty thousand? No, seventy-five, I will be generous.’

  Nina ushered Cheng out. ‘Forget it.’

  ‘No, wait!’ Desperation entered the German’s voice. ‘Okay, I will take the fifty thousand. A deal is a deal, ja?’

  ‘Deal with this,’ said Eddie, flipping him the bird as he closed the door.

  They started down the stairs. ‘We can’t just walk away!’ Cheng protested.

  ‘Yeah, we can,’ Nina replied. Below, three men entered the hall and headed upwards. ‘The guy was a total con man.’

  ‘But he had the—’ Cheng broke off as the first new arrival, a cold-faced blond, pushed rudely past him, his companions doing the same.

  Nina and Eddie moved aside to let them through, but the stairway was so narrow they still brushed against each other. ‘Oh, excuse me,’ the Yorkshireman shot after them. The leader gave him a contemptuous look. ‘Arseholes.’

  ‘He had the key,’ said Cheng, resuming his descent. ‘It’s genuine, you said so yourself! It could lead us to a lost civilisation. After everything you’ve discovered, how can you turn your back on that?’

  They exited the building. ‘Did you listen to a word I said in my lecture?’ Nina demanded, stopping in the middle of the courtyard and facing him. ‘Yes, I’ve made some amazing discoveries – at a great cost. This might be about money, not lives, but I want my students to learn from my mistakes, not repeat them!’

  ‘But I have the original fifty thousand euros,’ said Cheng, slapping the holdall. ‘We could go back and pay him. Then we’d have the key!’

  ‘He’ll call you again, I guarantee it. And this time he’ll want a lot less—’

  She broke off at raised voices from above. Eddie looked up, seeing shifting shadows behind a window. ‘Ay up. That’s Krämer’s flat.’

  ‘Must be those guys who passed us on the stairs,’ said Nina. ‘Maybe he really does have other potential buy— Aah!’

  They all leapt back in shock as Krämer was hurled through the window.

  4

  The screaming German landed with a bang on the overflowing dumpster. Nina whipped up her arms to shield herself from flying glass. ‘Jesus!’

  She looked up. The blond man glared back from the window, then shouted to his companions: ‘Find the key!’

  Krämer slid off the dumpster. Nina hurried to him. ‘Oh my God! Are you okay?’

  ‘Ja,’ he gasped, squinting up at her – then slipping a hand out of his jacket. He still had the key. ‘Help me . . .’

  ‘Eddie!’ she cried. ‘We’ve gotta get him out of here!’

  Her husband sighed. ‘So much for staying out of trouble!’

  Krämer’s attacker had turned to watch the other men tear the squalid room apart – then he whipped back around as Nina and Eddie brought the German to his feet. ‘He still has it!’ he shouted. ‘Get after him!’

  ‘Time to go!’ Eddie barked, shoving Krämer towards the alley.

  Nina followed. ‘Cheng, come on!’

  The young Chinese was frozen in bewilderment. ‘But what is—’

  She pulled him after her. ‘Run!’

  Eddie and Krämer hurried around the corner. Still towing Cheng, Nina glanced back – to see the blond man draw a suppressed pistol. ‘Oh shit! Gun!’

  She yanked Cheng into cover. The crack of a bullet striking brickwork just behind them almost drowned out the silenced weapon’s flat chack.

  Eddie and Krämer were a few metres ahead, but the sailor could only manage a loping run, one leg hurt in the fall. The alley stretched towards the glare and noise of the Große Freiheit. If they could reach it, they could lose themselves in the crowd, or even find some cops—

  A loud crash from behind warned they wouldn’t make it. The shooter had dropped down on to the dumpster. He would be able to take another shot before the fleeing group reached the street.

  Eddie realised the same thing – and changed direction, shoving a startled smoker aside and pushing Krämer through the theatre’s side entrance. ‘In here!
’

  Nina swept Cheng inside as the theatre worker shouted after them. They were in the backstage area, loud music from the auditorium echoing through narrow passageways. ‘Which way?’

  ‘Dunno – try here!’ Eddie rounded a corner, the others following. Doors marked with peeling stick-on stars greeted them. ‘Dressing rooms; we must be near the stage.’

  The smoker at the entrance shouted again, then cried out as he was clubbed down. ‘He’s coming!’ said Nina. Running footsteps echoed behind them.

  The corridor ended at two more doors, one a lavatory bearing a symbol of a male figure – wearing a huge beehive wig. The other was ajar, bright lights beyond. The Yorkshireman barrelled through. It was indeed a dressing room, illuminated mirrors along one wall and rack upon rack of showy female clothing against the other. A pink-haired drag queen gasped as the interlopers burst in. ‘Sorry, ’scuse us,’ said Eddie as he hurried past. ‘Nice wig!’

  There was an exit at the far end, but the pursuing footsteps were catching up fast. ‘Go, go!’ Nina shouted to Cheng as she halted. If she could jam the door with one of the racks . . .

  Too late. The blond man was almost at the entrance—

  She snatched up a large container of face powder and hurled it into the hallway.

  The cardboard tub burst open like a smoke bomb, a dense cloud of flesh-toned powder erupting in front of her pursuer. He reflexively jumped back, coughing. Nina shoved a clothing rack at the doorway to block it, then ran after the others.

  Eddie reached the exit. ‘Keep going!’ he barked, pushing Krämer and Cheng through before turning back to Nina. ‘Come on, quick!’

  ‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ The cloud was already thinning. The man appeared in the blocked doorway just as she reached the exit. Eddie propelled her through, following as the gun snapped up and fired. The round struck woodwork in his wake, splinters stabbing at the back of his bald head.

  He shouted for the others to keep moving, but held position. The rattle of laden coat hangers told him the gunman was moving the clothing rack. He peeked around the door. The drag queen ducked fearfully under the countertop. Beyond her, the blond man grunted in annoyance as he forced the heavy rack aside. He still held the gun. The Yorkshireman looked for anything that could even the odds. All that was within his reach was clothing . . .