The Wheel of Life and Death by Julian Sedgwick

Author:Julian Sedgwick [Sedgwick, Julian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action, Action & Adventure, Adventure, Adventures, Circus, Courage, Danger, Families, Family, Family & Relationships, Fiction - Middle Grade, Julian Sedgwick, Magic tricks, Middle Grade, Mysterium, Mystery, Suspense, #3 The Wheel of Life and Death, Berlin, Carolrhoda, Carolrhoda Books, Codes, Friendship, Germany, Patricia Moffett, Performing Arts, Secrets, The Wheel of Life and Death, Thriller, Thrillers, Thrillers & Suspense
ISBN: 9781541517363
Publisher: Lerner Publishing Group
Published: 2018-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

16

When Coffee Looks Like Blood

As if the door of the locker is attached to him, the lanky man in the black suit leaps to his feet as it opens, straining to see what’s happening. Now the boy’s sitting back, scratching his head, and the girl’s crawling deep into the locker’s dark mouth, reaching for something. Time to make my dramatic appearance, he thinks. Coast looks clear, so I’d better make my move.

Three quick strides take him to the glass door of the café. His cold eyes flick back down the corridor toward the busier part of the station. Nothing to be seen but the ebb and flow of early morning commuters. There you are, he thinks, there was no point worrying. As if Center himself was about to rear up!

But then he feels a gust of cold air—behind him and to the left—and he spins to see the men in balaclavas pushing through the doors from the square.

Four of them. They’re walking fast, arms held stiffly at their sides, presumably hiding weapons of some sort. This is not good. But they haven’t seen me yet, he thinks. I could just walk away. It’s not really my business anyway . . .

. . . But one glance back at the boy sitting on his heels—the girl wriggling backwards out of the locker—makes up his mind. They both look young, vulnerable. And it is his business after all these years!

Time to be a hero. Laura would laugh at that.

He strides quickly across the polished stone floor, jacket flapping, hand gripping the replica revolver. Should have bought a real one, he thinks. But then what? Shoot someone? Not really my style! Theatrical prop’ll have to do.

_____________

Oblivious to the five figures hurrying toward them, Danny watches his sister drag the heavy object back out of the locker.

“What is it?”

“Suitcase. It’s flippin’ heavy, though—give me a hand, will you?”

She’s crawling back out of the confined space, and Danny reaches past her to get a grip on one of the leather straps. As the light from Alexanderplatz spills onto the case, he recognizes it at once.

“It’s one of Dad’s!”

He sits back in amazement. “It’s the one he always used on trips away from the Mysterium. What’s it doing in there?”

And why wasn’t it in the trailer? Why wasn’t it burned to cinders like everything else?

“Must be his brick collection,” Sing Sing grunts dryly, dragging it out into the light, its metal-studded feet screeching on the floor. “Quick, open it, dummy!”

But Danny’s got his hand over his mouth, staring at the familiar stickers plastered to the dark brown case: ARGENTINA, RIO, I ❤ NY, CND, ROMA, HAMBURG, STOCKHOLM, BARCELONA, THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS, ARCHAOS, ATHENS, ICH LIEBE BERLIN, DUBLIN . . . There amongst the jumble of images and words is one he hadn’t noticed before: the red shield of Hong Kong and big letters HK. He must have been there then—Dad must have been in Hong Kong, Danny thinks. Sing Sing doesn’t seem to have noticed. Should I mention it now .

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