The Twelfth Tablet - Ebook Read Online Free PDF Page A

A girlfriend?’
    ‘That’s a pretty hypothetical–’
    ‘Where?’ she repeated.
    A long silence. Who can I trust with my life? There weren’t many more fundamental questions, Paul realised. And none that could make you feel so lonely.
    ‘My father never forgave me for choosing academia. I don’t think he’d understand if I told him I’ve become an international art thief.’
    And murderer . The unforgiving voice inside supplied the punchline.
    ‘Your brother?’
    ‘I don’t have a brother.’
    ‘A friend, then.’
    He gave up. ‘What difference does it make anyway? It’s all hypothetical and I’m still totally fucked .’
    ‘Everything in life is hypothetical until you do it.’
    ‘Enough with the fucking philosophy.’
    ‘I can help you.’
    She said it so softly he wasn’t sure if the sound was just something blown in from the forest. But she was waiting.
    ‘How?’
    ‘There is one condition.’
    Paul stiffened. She put her hand back on his. ‘Nothing difficult. You must give Ari the tablet.’
    ‘I just told you–’
    ‘This is how it will happen.’ Her voice still barely carried in the Mercedes’ interior. ‘This car is no good, but I can rent a new one. We’ll go to the station in Zurich, and you will leave the tablet in a locker there. Only you will know the number and the combination. Then I will drive you across the border.’
    ‘Won’t they be looking for me?’
    ‘You’ll go in the boot. I will take you wherever you want – France, Germany, Italy, Austria.’
    ‘And what then?’
    ‘Then you will tell me the locker combination, and I’ll come back and give it to Ari,’ she said, as though it was obvious.
    ‘I meant what about me?’
    A cool look. ‘You do what you want.’
    ‘How do I know…’
    ‘That I won’t betray you?’ She pointed out the window to the tangled forest. ‘If you don’t trust me, there are other ways you can go.’
    Everything’s hypothetical until you do it.

Chapter 4
    On the phone’s screen, Ari stood on the deck of a motor cruiser holding a steering wheel. The wind blew his hair wild; his bare chest glistened with salt water, and the sun bathed him gold. He looked like a god – the ancient sort, before gods learned to be kind.
    There was a number below the picture. Valerie pressed it and put the phone on speaker. Ari’s face stayed still as a statue – but suddenly his voice was there in the car.
    ‘ Legyeteh .’
    ‘It’s me,’ said Valerie
    ‘Where are you?’
    ‘Safe. With Paul.’
    ‘Do you have…?’
    He left the question unfinished. In case the call’s recorded , Paul realised. Nothing incriminating .
    Anger surged inside him. He wanted to shout down the phone, to confront Ari with all the things he’d done. To drag him into the netherworld he’d condemned Paul to.
    Valerie put a warning hand on his. Her finger stroked his wrist, the little hollow between the tendons where his pulse beat.
    ‘I’m going to make sure Paul’s safe,’ she said. ‘Then you’ll get it.’
    A growl from the phone. ‘He can bring it to me himself. Now.’
    ‘He doesn’t trust you.’
    Paul listened, more carefully than he’d ever listened to anything in his life – every breath, every pause, every rise or fall of tone that might betray him.
    Ari said nothing.
    ‘Do you agree?’ said Valerie.
    A long pause. Then: ‘OK.’
    Valerie pressed a button on the phone. The screen went blank.
     
    They left the car and hiked through the forest. A hundred yards away, Paul buried the rifle under a mound of pine needles and earth. Valerie gave Paul her cigarette lighter, a golden cylinder with her initials engraved on the barrel. It reminded him of the golden writing on the tablet.
    He held the flame until the flint got so hot it burned him. After three goes, his thumb was so sore he gave up and let the darkness do its worst. He thought his eyes would adjust, but the trees were so thick that none of Zurich’s city glow penetrated. He walked with