Relic

“I’ll get back to you. Coffey out.”

He punched at the radio and shouted, “Ippolito! Ippolito, you copy?” What the hell was happening inside that Hall? He switched to D’Agosta’s frequency. “D’Agosta! This is Coffey. Are you reading me?”

He ran frantically through the bands.

“Waters!”

“Waters here, sir.”

“What happened, Waters?”

“There was a loud noise in the electrical room, sir, and I fired as per regulations, and—”

“Regulations? You fucking turkey, there’s no regulation for firing at a noise!”

“Sorry, sir. It was a loud noise, and I heard a lot of screaming and ru

“For this, Waters, you’re dead. I’m go

“Yes, sir.”

Outside there was a cough, sputter, and a roar as a large portable generator started up. The rear door to the Mobile Command Unit opened and several agents ducked in, their suits dripping. “The rest are on their way, sir,” one of them said.

“Okay. Tell them we’re having a crisis-control meeting here in the MCU in five minutes.”

He stepped out into the rain. Emergency services workers were moving bulky equipment and yellow acetylene tanks up the Museum steps.

Coffey ran back through the rain and up the steps into the debris-laden Rotunda. Medics clustered at the metal [347] emergency door blocking the east entrance to the Hall of the Heavens. Coffey could hear the whine of a bone saw.

“Tell me what you’ve got,” Coffey asked the leader of the medical team.

The doctor’s eyes looked strained above his blood-flecked mask. “I don’t know the full extent of the injuries yet, but we’ve got several criticals here. We’re performing some field amputations. I think a few others might be saved if you can get this door open in the next half hour.”

Coffey shook his head. “Doesn’t look like that will happen. We’re go

An emergency worker spoke up. “We’ve got some heat-proof blankets we can lay across these people as we work.”

Coffey stepped back and raised his radio. “D’Agosta! Ippolito! Come in!”

Silence. Then, he heard a hiss of static.

“D’Agosta here,” came the tense voice. “Listen, Coffey—”

“Where have you been? I told you—”

“Shut up and listen, Coffey. You were making too much noise, I had to shut you off. We’re on our way to the subbasement. There’s a creature loose somewhere in Cell Two. I’m not kidding you, Coffey, it’s a fucking monster. It killed Ippolito and ran into the Hall. We had to get out.”

“A what? You’re losing it, D’Agosta. Get a grip, you hear me? We’re sending men in through the roof.”

“Yeah? Well, they’d better have some heavy shit ready if they plan on meeting up with this thing.”

“D’Agosta, let me handle it. What’s this about Ippolito?”

“He’s dead, slashed open, just like all the other stiffs.”

“And a monster did this. Okay, sure. Any other police officers with you, D’Agosta?”

[348] “Yeah, there’s Bailey.”

“I’m relieving you of duty. Put Bailey on.”

“Fuck you. Here’s Bailey.”

“Sergeant,” Coffey barked, “You’re in charge now. What’s the situation?”

“Mr. Coffey, he’s right. We had to leave the Hall of the Heavens. We went down the back stairwell near the service area. There’s over thirty of us, including the Mayor. No shit, there’s really something in here.”

“Give me a break, Bailey. Did you see it?”

“I’m not sure what I saw, sir, but D’Agosta saw it, and Jesus, sir, you should see what it did to Ippolito—”

“Listen to me, Bailey. Are you go

“No sir. As far as I’m concerned, he’s in charge.”

“I just put you in charge!”

Coffey snorted and looked up, enraged. “The son of a bitch just cut me off.”

Outside in the rain, Greg Kawakita stood motionless amid a cacophony of yelling, sobbing, and cursing. He remained oblivious to the pelting rain that plastered his black hair to his forehead; the emergency vehicles that passed by, sirens shrieking; the panicky guests that jostled him as they ran past. Again and again he replayed in his mind what Margo and Frock had barked at him. He opened and closed his mouth, moved forward as if to reenter the Museum. Then, slowly, he turned, pulled his sodden tuxedo closer around his narrow shoulders, and walked thoughtfully into the darkness.

= 50 =

Margo jumped as a second gunshot echoed down the hall.

“What’s happening?” she cried. In the darkness, she felt Frock’s grip tighten.

Outside, they heard ru

“That smell is growing fainter,” she whispered. “Do you think it’s gone?”

“Margo,” Frock replied quietly, “you saved my life. You risked your own life to save mine.”

There came a soft knocking at the door. “Who is it?” Frock asked in a steady tone.

“Pendergast,” a voice said, and Margo rushed to open the door. The FBI agent stood outside, a large revolver in one hand and crumpled blueprints in the other. His crisp well-tailored black suit contrasted with his dirt-streaked face. He shut the door behind him.

“I’m pleased to see you both safe and sound,” he said, shining his light first on Margo and then Frock.

[350] “Not half as pleased as we are!” Frock cried. “We came down here searching for you. Were those shots yours?”

“Yes,” Pendergast said. “And I assume it was you I heard calling my name?”

“Then you did hear me!” Frock said. “That’s how you knew to look for us in here.”

Pendergast shook his head. “No.” He handed Margo a flashlight as he started unfolding his crumpled blueprints. Margo saw they were covered with handwritten notes.

“The New York Historical Society will be very unhappy when they see the liberties I’ve taken with their property,” the agent observed dryly.

“Pendergast,” Frock hissed, “Margo and I have discovered exactly what this killer is. You must listen. It isn’t a human being or any animal we know. Please, let me explain.”

Pendergast looked up. “I don’t need any convincing, Doctor Frock.”

Frock blinked. “You don’t? You will? I mean, you will help us stop the opening upstairs, get the people out?”

“It’s too late for that,” Pendergast said. “I’ve been talking by police radio to Lieutenant D’Agosta and others. This power failure isn’t just affecting the basement, it’s affecting the entire Museum. The security system has failed, and all the emergency doors have come down.”

“You mean—” Margo began.

“I mean the Museum has been compartmentalized into five isolated cells. We’re in Cell Two. Along with the people in the Hall of the Heavens. And the creature.”

“What happened?” Frock asked.

“There was a panic even before the power went out and the doors came down. A dead body was discovered inside the exhibition. A police officer. Most of the guests managed to get out, but thirty or forty are trapped inside the Hall of the Heavens.” He smiled ruefully. “I was in [351] the exhibition myself, just a few hours before. I wanted to get a look at this Mbwun figurine you mentioned. If I’d gone in by the rear exit instead of the front, perhaps I would have found the body myself, and prevented all this. However, I did get a chance to see the figurine, Doctor Frock. And it’s an excellent representation. Take it from somebody who knows.”

Frock stared, his mouth open.

“You’ve seen it?” Frock managed to whisper.

“Yes. That’s what I was shooting at. I was down around the corner from this storeroom when I heard you call my name. Then I noticed an awful smell. I ducked into a room and watched it go by. I came out after it and got off a shot, but it grazed off the thing’s scalp. Then the lights went out. I followed it around the corner and saw it grasping at this door, snuffling.” Pendergast flicked open the revolver’s cylinder, and replaced the two spent cartridges. “That’s how I knew you were in here.”