Repairman Jack [02]-Legacies

"Don't patronize me, Jack. I may be a little jumpy and twitchy, but I haven't lost my mind. I can still think." She crawled across the floor and retrieved the car, then returned to her original spot. "This toy does not belong here. That man never played with toys, and this one is completely out of place in my room. That's why I searched for the rest of it. And I think I'm glad I did. Watch."

She put the car down again, this time facing away from the wall. As soon as its wheels hit the floor, it turned a one-hundred-eighty-degree arc and headed toward the wall, butting its nose three inches or so to the left of where it had ended up a minute ago.

Jack was about to tell her they didn't have time to play with toys, whether they belonged in her room or not, but something about the little car's persistence in running up against that wall made him hesitate.

"That's the seventh—no, eighth time it's ended against that wall," she said. "No matter which way it's pointing when I set it down, eight out of eight times that's where it ends up."

"No kidding?"

Jack bent and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. Nothing special: a remote control toy car stripped down to its a metal undercarriage, with four wheels, a motor, steering mechanism, battery compartment, and an aerial.

The wheels were still spinning, so he put it down and pointed it toward Alicia. It zipped around and once again wound up against the wall.

"That's nine out of nine," she said.

Jack was interested now. "Where's the rest of it?"

"Here." She handed him the black plastic body.

"No," he said. "Where's the remote, the little box that controls the steering?"

"Never saw anything like that."

He checked out the plastic body. Apparently someone had torn it off the chassis, probably looking to see if anything was hidden inside. He snapped the two pieces back together.

"Looks more like some sort of jeep than a car," Alicia said.

Jack checked out the tiny logo across the rear hatch.

"A 'Sports Utility Vehicle,' as they're known. But this is a real upscale Jeep. This here's a Land Rover."

"A what?"

Jack looked up and saw Alicia on her feet, staring wide-eyed at the toy.

"A Land Rover. They're British and—"

"The will," she said. "It mentions a rover—twice… in those crazy poetry quotes." She snapped her fingers and looked at the ceiling. "What were they? 'Clay(ton) lies still, but blood's a rover' was one. And the other… the other went, 'Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest?'"

Jack felt a tingle of excitement as he sensed pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. Maybe "the key that points the way" wasn't a key at all. Maybe it was something that simply pointed the way.

He placed the toy on the floor again and watched it do its thing, winding up nose-on against the wall in that same spot.

This little "rover" was sure as hell pointing the way to something.

"What thy quest indeed," he said. "Wait here."

He trotted back to the bedroom, grabbed the sledgehammer and one of the crowbars. For a moment he considered hammering a hole in one of the pieces of plywood blocking the windows to allow him a peek at the guard car out front, but thought better of it. The racket might attract too much attention.

"What are you going to do?" Alicia said as he returned to her room.

"Something in this wall is attracting our little friend there. Hang onto him while I find out what."

He lifted the sledge and swung it sidearm at the wall.

8.

The phone rang just as Kemel was finishing his evening prayers.

"Someone's in the house," Baker's voice said. "We think it's that guy the broad hired. I'm goin' over there now."

Alarm shot through Kemel like a jolt of electricity. How could this be? Just yesterday she had offered to sell and he had agreed to her price. Why would she send someone to invade it tonight? Unless…

Unless she knows something… unless she has guessed why the house is so valuable and has sent her man to find it.

Kemel closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. The air duct! Someone had been in there after all—Alicia Clayton's man. And he must have heard something.

"How did this happen?"

"He used some kind of knockout gas on my guys. They just woke up and called me. They think he's still in there."

"I'm glad you called."

"Not like I have much choice."

Kemel could hear the hurt pride in Baker's voice, but that was too bad. After last week's abduction fiasco, Kemel had put the mercenary on a short leash. He was to keep Kemel apprised of every development as it happened and was to take no action—do absolutely nothing—without first clearing it with Kemel. The operation was too close to successful completion to risk a setback from Baker's heavy-handed tactics. In fact, if Kemel had not needed ongoing security for the house, he would have fired Baker last week.

"But time's a-wasting," Baker said. "I'm headin' over now. If it's the same guy from the van, I want to be there."

"I want no action taken until I arrive."

"I may not have a choice."

"Nothing until I am present. Is that clear?"