The Future Scrolls

by Fern Michaels

  Now what do I do? You know what you have to do, Dani. “Oh no,” she groaned aloud. “I could never go back in there. Besides, I locked the door. Locks can be picked,” her other self answered. “But he’s dead, I couldn’t look at him again. You can do whatever you have to do, Dani. You just have to understand how important it is to you. It’s for Maria and Alex. What if someone sees me? Wear a disguise,” the daring, quick-thinking Dani answered.

  “Hmfph!” she snorted.

  “I don’t have the guts,” she wailed.

  “Why argue? I’m going to do it.”

  Dani scrubbed her face bare of makeup. Within minutes, her appearance was altered sharply. She penciled in a high-arched brow, added a line at the outer corners of her eyes, giving her a slightly Oriental look. She added more color than usual to her high cheekbones and rubbed in a darker makeup around her nose and chin. As a disguise, her efforts left a lot to be desired.

  Having pulled her hair back into a skintight chignon, she added a floppy hat. Dani squinted at her reflection. It would have to do. Rummaging in the closet, she withdrew a black maxicoat. She would take Alex’s Lincoln and hope for the best.

  Back in the living room, she looked at the phone, wishing it would ring. Dani settled the screen around the fireplace and checked the ashtrays. She turned off the lamp and switched on a small night-light. Carefully, she locked the door behind her.

  Unknown to Dani, by the time she had the door of the Lincoln open, the phone inside had started—and stopped—ringing. And the overseas operator had said her apologies to the American on the other end of the phone.

  An hour later, Dani successfully found a parking place. My lucky day. I find a space not once but twice and then I find a dead body.

  Walking sedately up to the hotel entrance, she clenched and unclenched her hands a dozen times. There was a different doorman. Luck was on her side. Dani squared her shoulders and stepped regally through the door. Looking neither to the left nor the right, she headed straight for the elevator and was once again in luck.

  Women spilled from the elevator, laughing happily over something that must have transpired within the car. “Five,” she said in a husky voice. The young operator stood staring straight ahead, engrossed in his own thoughts. Dani left the car and immediately looked for directions to the stairway.

  Satisfied, she walked briskly through the door and walked up one flight. A violent chill washed over her as she approached room six-thirteen. Cautiously, she knocked and stood back to wait, knowing there would be no answer. Her “do not disturb” sign was still intact. Scanning the hallway, she withdrew a credit card from her pocket. Just like the movies, she grimaced.

  She maneuvered the small card up and down. Nuts! It always worked in the movies. She tried again and was rewarded with the sound of a tiny click. Looking over her shoulder, down the dim hallway, she heaved a sigh and entered the dark suite. Her skin crawled.

  God! Where was the light? Dani fumbled as she tried to remember, to the left of the door. Her hand struggled with the switch plate. Feeling the small protrusion, she snapped the overhead foyer light to “on.” The room was bathed in a faint, rosy glow. Dani snapped the lock once more and leaned against the door for support. I wonder how cat burglars do it? She shuddered.

  She pulled on her black kid gloves as she advanced into the room. She saw that it was the same as she had left it, four hours ago.

  Investigating the area under the tiny table, she saw the beat-up metal case of the portable. With long strides, she had it in her hand. Heart fluttering madly, she hardly dared to press the clasp. With shaking hands, she managed to open it. She drew in her breath and let loose a very articulate “Oh.” So, she had been right. There, nestled in layers of silk, were rolls of parchment.

  Quickly, she snapped the case and raced to Valerie’s room. Dani looked in the closet for a small weekend bag. She withdrew a handsome black alligator carry-on and, before she could change her mind, stuffed the typewriter case inside. The bag closed, she let her gaze rake the room. Satisfied, she turned off the light.

  Averting her gaze from the lifeless form on the carpet, she stood once more by the small gilt table. She lifted each page of paper. Nothing. Just pages of drivel that only a sick mind could comprehend. The camouflage had been confirmed.

  Once again, she turned out all the lights and opened the door and peered down the hallway. Dani glanced at her watch. Almost one in the morning. After locking the door for the second time, she headed for the next exit sign over the stairway. She walked down all six flights and stopped, winded for the moment. Carefully and quickly, she inched the door open and looked through the narrow slit. The lobby was almost deserted. Bad luck. The same desk clerk was still on duty. Not only was he on duty, he appeared to be wide awake and extremely alert.

  Dani wondered how many guests left the hotel at one in the morning carrying a suitcase. Maybe he’ll think I’m trying to leave without paying the bill. I wasn’t cut out for this cloak-and-dagger jazz, she moaned to herself. I’ll just have to wait till he leaves his post, she thought. Sooner or later he’ll have to go to the bathroom.

  Sure enough, two hours and twenty minutes later, the man sauntered to the room adjacent to the desk. In a flash, Dani was through the entrance. Muttering to herself about middle-ofthe-night plane departures, she whizzed past the startled doorman.

  Inside the Lincoln, with the doors locked, she sat trembling. “God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world. Mama, how right you were.”

  The car in gear, she drove home with myriad emotions. Tomorrow was another day. No, actually it was today. Now all she would have to do was sit and wait. Not only did she have flower power, she had barter power. And barter she would . . . for Maria.

  Seventeen

  Valerie Mendeneres ground her teeth as she listened to Maria’s sleepy sobs.

  She cast a disparaging look around the dingy hotel room. Dull, drab, brown. Lit by a single naked lightbulb.

  Fear tightened the muscles in her stomach as she forced back the bile that rose in her throat.

  “How could I have been stupid enough to let Eugene get his sticky fingers on the scrolls?” It was his own fault; it really was his own fault, she thought angrily. “He should have told me where they were,” she defended herself. “But oh, God, I didn’t mean to kill him. I didn’t. I really didn’t.”

  Tears of self-pity ran in hot rivulets down her cheeks, smearing the artfully applied makeup. Her face was a swollen blur that mirrored her dejection. “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” she moaned. “Now I have nothing left. There’s nothing left.”

  Suddenly, she heard Maria sob again. She cast the sleeping child a churlish look, annoyed to be interrupted by this moment of pained emotion. Valerie waited a moment longer to see if the child would stir. She did not. Once more she returned to her tortured cries of self-pity.

  “I have nothing left. There’s nothing left. No money. My clothes and jewelry left behind with Eugene. No scrolls. No husband. No nothing.” At the remembrance of her husband, a hopeful gleam came into her eyes. Alex will tell them for me. Alex will tell them how Eugene threatened me, used me, even threatened my child. She practiced a curiously loving glance in Maria’s direction. “After all, a mother has every right to protect her child, doesn’t she?”

  “Ah!” she squealed. “I forgot. Diplomatic immunity. I must have it. Oh, I’m sure I have it. If I don’t, Alex will get it for me. He wouldn’t let the mother of his child go to prison, would he?”

  Her hopes died with the realization that Alex loved truth and righteousness. “No, I have nothing,” she acceded. “Nothing.”

  Valerie watched the sleeping child roll over on the narrow cot that served as a bed. “Or have I?”

  Dani plugged in the electric percolator and grimaced, “It’s going to be a long night.”

  She splashed cold water on her face and patted some astringent lotion sparingly. Brushing her hair, she counted each stroke. �
��I want to be wide awake when the phone rings.”

  Her thoughts were with the child. Sending out messages of strength, of courage, she said to herself, “Hang in there, Maria. Only a little while longer.”

  The tiny red light glowed in the semi-darkness of the kitchen. She grabbed the pot, a cup and an ashtray, along with her cigarettes. And stationed herself by the silent phone.

  The hours till dawn crawled on tortoise legs. Dani glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time and drained the last of the coffee. It was eight-ten in the morning. Mentally, she tried to calculate the time difference between New York and Rome. She shrugged. “You’re on your own from here on in, Danielle. It’s time you realized that.” Her head slumped to her chest just as the phone rang ominously. Dani restrained herself from catching it the first time. Her heart thumping, she managed to whisper “Hello” in a controlled voice.

  “Miss Arnold, this is Mrs. Mendeneres.”

  Dani caught the usage of the word “Mrs.” recalling the previous call when she announced herself merely as “Valerie Mendeneres.” Remembering Eugene’s cold, stiff dead body, Dani could understand Valerie’s plea for the protection she may receive as Alex’s wife.

  “Is my husband there?”

  “No, he isn’t. I told you that when you called before.” Dani’s ears strained to hear background noises, yearning for some sign of Maria’s presence. There was nothing.

  “I’m not playing games anymore, Miss Arnold. I have something Alex wants.”

  “And I, Mrs. Mendeneres, have something you want,” Dani said meaningfully.

  “I have no idea what that could be, Miss Arnold.”

  “I think we both know what I mean,” Dani replied curtly. “Simply put, Mrs. Mendeneres, the scrolls.”

  “That’s impossible; Eug—”

  “Not as impossible as you may think. I visited your hotel yesterday afternoon. And Mrs. Mendeneres, you won’t believe this but there was a dead body lying in the middle of your sitting room floor.”

  “How and where did you find the scrolls?” Valerie asked, ignoring the mention of Eugene’s dead body.

  “Those are your words, not mine.”

  “I want to talk to Alex about this. I refuse to negotiate with you.”

  “You have no choice. The way I see it, you need money to help you get out of your . . . difficulties. Alex will never pay money for his daughter. And I doubt, in your flight from justice, you want to be burdened with a ten-year-old child.”

  Valerie, sensing the logic behind the girl’s words, knew it was true. Her recourse would be to sell Alex the scrolls, but first she had to find them. Did the girl have the scrolls? If not, what was she talking about? What did she have? Valerie’s mind whirled. Apparently, this woman knew about Eugene. Could she have found the scrolls by the sheerest accident? She herself had no idea where Eugene had hidden them and there was no way now that Eugene could help her. The girl was right about one thing: the child would slow her down. What to do? Bluff her way out as she always did. She would tie a rope around Maria’s neck if she had to. Suddenly, as if struck by a bolt of lightning, she knew in her gut that the girl would deal.

  Dani waited impatiently for the answer. Fear coursed through her body. She held her breath.

  “Fine! Top of the Empire State Building at two this afternoon. I’ll have Maria with me. Come alone.”

  Click . . .

  Sick with apprehension, Dani slumped wearily onto the sofa. “Did I do right? Oh, God, help me; did I do right?” Her eyes traveled to the typewriter case resting at her feet. From what Alex said, the scrolls held the hope of the world. Life for humanity, not just one small, frightened little girl. “But I don’t love humanity; I love Maria and Alex,” she whispered to the empty room. “I have to do it.”

  Dani squinted against the slanting rays of the cold November sun that had woken her. Bismarck was nudging her hopefully, yowling for his dinner—or was it lunch? She lay for a moment, confused and drained from her recent activities. Wearily, she got to her feet. “All right, Bismarck, I’ll feed you.” Secretly sad for the big, old tom, who she knew sorely missed Maria, she cooed, “I miss her, too, but she’ll be back. Now I have to get milk.”

  Walking to the door, she noticed an oblong of yellow paper that had been slipped through the mail slot. Quickly, she reached for it and slit the envelope. It was a cable from Alex. Arriving Kennedy Airport two forty-five, Thursday. Flight 23, Alitalia.

  Dani groaned. “You . . . you . . .” Words failed her. Bismarck wailed again at this second delay.

  Dani clasped the typewriter case firmly in her hand. She paid for the ticket and moved to the elevator. The operator waited for a full car before starting the switch. At each stop, her stomach rose and fell. Checking her watch again, she realized she was ten minutes early. Her thoughts turned to Alex. Well, he’ll just have to get home on his own. I have more important things to do. Strolling nonchalantly to the elevator, she allowed her eyes to survey her surroundings. There was no sign of Valerie or Maria. Positioning herself opposite the exit to the observation deck, she stood quietly and waited. She wanted to see them before they saw her.

  It was bright and clear. A brisk breeze lifted her hair and blew coolly against her cheek. She looked at the haze below and recalled the radio weather forecast this morning. The air quality was totally unacceptable. Dani wondered vaguely what the air was like in Argentina.

  A group of tourists stepped closer to her, awed by the sight of the city below. The sun glinted on an airplane as it circled the building.

  Dani watched the sleek, silvery jet as it started its descent.

  “Look, Dad. An airplane!”

  “I see it, son. They circle here before they descend to LaGuardia and Kennedy.”

  “Awk!” Dani squawked silently. Then the next wave of tourists emerged through the doors of the observation deck.

  Dani blinked at Maria’s bedraggled appearance. The youngster was walking beside a disheveled dark-haired woman. The child started to run to Dani, only to be hindered by Valerie, clutching her back to her side.

  Dani stared into the glittering eyes of the woman opposite her. She heard Maria squeal, “Dani, it is me! You are not looking at me! Here I am!”

  “I see you, honey,” Dani said, never taking her eyes from Valerie’s hard face.

  “Let’s go to the upper observation deck. There are fewer tourists there, fewer prying eyes. You first, Miss Arnold.”

  Minutes later, they emerged from the elevator into the small, round observation tower. Valerie was right. There was no one there. The sun streamed through the windows, making the room warm.

  Valerie held Maria in a viselike grip. “Show me,” the desperate woman demanded.

  Dani felt stunned as she stared at her glassyeyed rival. She shook her head slightly. She couldn’t go through with it.

  “Now, or I’ll twist her arm till it breaks,” Valerie hissed.

  Dani gazed into the gleaming eyes, licked dry lips and slowly placed the case on the floor. Carefully, she withdrew the aged parchment.

  Valerie made an involuntary move toward the case as she continued to clutch at the child.

  Dani looked at her and felt a momentary pang of pity as she watched the greed and hatred in her cold eyes.

  Valerie stared down at the scrolls resting on the floor. She made no further move. Helplessness and despair washed over her countenance.

  “They’re only paper.” She tried a half-smile. “Only paper. They never made Alex happy before. Only Maria has been able to do that.”

  Valerie cast the child a puzzled, questioning look as though trying to measure her.

  Dani watched Valerie’s face transform from one of avarice to one of manic hatred. Fear clutched her throat.

  “The last thing I want is to make Alex happy. No deal, Miss Arnold. Take your scrolls and go home.”

  “But they’ll get you. They’ll find you. Alex will have Maria anyway.”

  “No, he won’t, Miss A
rnold.” A mantle of determination settled over Valerie. “No, he won’t,” she said with authority.

  Dani tried to quash the fear she felt for Maria. Malevolence shone in Valerie’s eyes. A sadistic twitch pinched her upper lip.

  Again, Dani looked into the angry eyes.

  A low drone of an engine permeated the air within the tower. Maria tried to struggle from the woman’s grasp. But Valerie held tighter, causing the young girl to cry out. Dani clenched her teeth, feeling strangled by a hard lump of terror in her throat. Imperceptibly, she moved toward the service stairs, anticipating Valerie’s mad action to push Maria down them.

  The droning became louder. Suddenly, Valerie stood transfixed, the sunlight streaming through the smoky windows behind her. She was looking off into the corner of the room.

  “It’s Brother Gian,” Maria whispered. At the sound of her daughter’s words, Valerie backed up, slowly releasing her hold, all the while her gaze fixed on one corner of the building. Panic gripped her body, making it hard to breathe. It couldn’t be, not here in New York. Not that damn crazy monk. As though she were mounted on a spring, she jerked her eyes around, blank with fear. She made a move to clutch at the scrolls. Dani nimbly backed off a step, holding Maria tightly to her side, sliding the scrolls with her foot, out of Valerie’s reach.

  A terrified scream at last found its escape from Valerie’s gaping mouth. She stumbled toward the stairs as if trying to escape the ever-impending shadow. The pupils of Maria’s eyes dilated with terror as she watched Valerie’s crazed motions and heard her blood-curdling scream.

  “Oh, my God!” Valerie screamed. “Not me! I wasn’t going to . . .” The words died in her throat.

  Dani heard the heavy thud as Valerie lost her balance and tumbled down the stairs. Gently, Dani asked the child to stand by the wall. “Stay here, Maria; don’t move!”