A King's Ransom

“It’s so awesome that I bumped into you,” Vanessa said, shouldering one of the bags.

They hurried to the track and got in line behind a wealthy-looking woman with a large trunk and several suitcases. She was dressed in a fur coat and hat, even though it wasn’t that cold. She spoke sharply to the police officer at the train door in rapid Italian. He shrugged.

Finally, the line moved forward. Amy pulled the Wowzabelles trunk, and Dan grabbed the tuba.

“On your way to a concert?” The policeman smiled.

Vanessa nodded. “We’re on a European tour,” she added proudly.

“And what is a Wowzabelle?” he asked.

“Awesome singers,” Amy said, handing over her passport.

Dan waited while the policeman scrutinized the photo, comparing it to Amy. Then he reached for Dan’s.

It seemed to take long seconds before he handed back the document. He ticketed the trunk. “This will go in the oversize compartment – pick it up in Zurich. Welcome aboard.”

Only Dan heard Amy’s long sigh of relief as they boarded the train and found their seats, stowing the tuba overhead.

Dan glanced out the window. A man in a raincoat was talking to the friendly policeman. He had a nose like the beak of a raptor, and his dark hair looked as though he’d blow-dried it with an airplane propeller.

Dan looked away, checking out the station, but his gaze snapped back. He didn’t know why, exactly. Maybe because the man wasn’t showing the officer a ticket or a passport, he was just leaning in, talking to him. And all the while his gaze swept the station.

Detective, Dan thought, as the policeman pointed to the Lucerne train.

The man scanned the windows as he walked alongside the train. Dan shrank back.

He nudged Amy and tilted his head.

“Can I use your phone, Carrie?” Vanessa asked Amy. “I really need to call Ms. Mutchnik.”

Vanessa leaned forward for the phone, and Amy crashed back against the seat. Now shielded by Vanessa, she was able to watch the man as he moved, his gaze on the windows.

The train started with a lurch. They saw his face briefly as they slid past him. He started to run as he tried to catch up and jump aboard. Had he seen them? The train accelerated, and he was left behind on the track. Dan and Amy exchanged a relieved glance. He could have been just a guy who missed his train. But somehow Dan didn’t think so.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Vanessa was saying. “The Farleys are awesome – they’re from Maine, which is, like, the nicest state ever. I have Heather’s tuba, I have the costumes, and I even have a sandwich. No, you don’t have to meet me at the station … oh, whatever. No! Don’t call my parents! I am so incredibly fine. …”

As the city of Florence receded, Dan felt himself relax. He and Amy had learned during the hunt for the 39 Clues to grab rest when they could. He yawned. The slight sway of the train reminded him of his grandmother Grace’s hammock on the lawn on a warm September afternoon, back when he had nobody chasing him, and nobody missing, and nobody to save. He felt as though he could finally sleep.

The hand came out of nowhere. Dan almost scissored out a powerful kick but was glad he didn’t. Did breaking a conductor’s kneecap get you thrown off a train in Italy?

The guy said something in Italian. Then the English penetrated Dan’s foggy brain. “Ticket and passport. We’re crossing the border.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Dan handed the conductor his ticket.

“Grazie.”

“De nada,” Dan said.

“That’s Spanish,” Amy whispered.

“No, it’s whatever,” Dan said. “I’m too tired to think.”

“You guys slept through Milan,” Vanessa said.

“Jet lag,” Amy said. Her phone buzzed. By now Dan recognized the sound. It was the special phone Vesper One had sent to them, the phone that he used for his text messages. The DeOssie secure smartphone that was used by spies and soldiers. Vesper One had reconfigured it so that they couldn’t reply to his messages.

He could always get to them. They could never get to him. The guy didn’t play by the rule book.

Vanessa stood up. “I’m going to find some snacks. Anybody want anything?”

“Anything crunchy,” Dan said. He handed her a couple of euros. “But if you can find American potato chips, we’ll be friends forever.”

She flashed a grin. “I’ll work my mojo.”

As soon as Vanessa started down the aisle, Amy scrambled for the phone in her pocket.

Lucerne is such a great place to shop. While you’re there, can you pick up a de Virga mappa mundi for me? Don’t worry, you don’t have to gift wrap it. I need it soon, though. Four days from now, bright and early. Or else.

“I wish this guy would stop making jokes,” Dan said through gritted teeth. “And giving ultimatums. Do you know what de Virga mappa mundi means? Sounds like a pasta dish.”

“Mappa mundi means ‘world map,’” Amy said. She tapped out a quick text to their research team at the comm. center back home in Attleboro, Massachusetts. In a large attic room they had banks of computers, an array of handhelds, and sleeping quarters. They even had their own satellite, the Gideon. Amy had spent a fortune on a communications bunker in case something like this happened. She wasn’t paranoid or psychic. Just wicked smart.

RECEIVED NEXT TARGET: DE VIRGA WORLD MAP.

In less than a minute, a reply came from her boyfriend, Evan.

GOT IT. ALL OK?

OK FOR NOW Amy tapped back.

Then she plugged the words de Virga map into the search engine on her smartphone.

“‘The de Virga map is a medieval map of the world that was created in Venice between 1411 and 1415,’” she read to Dan.“It was discovered in Croatia in 1911.” Amy frowned as she scrolled through the information. “Then it went missing for good, right before it was going to be put up for auction in Lucerne in 1932. It was withdrawn from the auction and nobody ever saw it again. Well, that explains why Vesper One directed us to Lucerne. We should head right for that auction house and see if we can get access to their records.”

Dan frowned. “But how can we find a map that disappeared almost eighty years ago? That’s impossible!”

“Haven’t you gotten it yet?” Amy asked. “We’re expected to do the impossible.”

Dan looked at her bleakly. “And we’re expected to do it fast.”

The train slowed, then stopped. Dan pressed his face to the window. “What’s going on?”

“It’s okay,” Amy said. “When we cross the border, sometimes they change personnel.”

Dan watched as a group of train conductors left the small building and headed for the train. He relaxed back into his seat.

Then he shot forward again. Trailing behind the men and woman was a man in a shabby raincoat. A man with messy hair and sharp eyes …

“It’s him,” Dan told Amy. “He caught up to us. He’s going to board the train!”

“I bet he’s Interpol,” Amy said, biting her lip. “We passed so far, but I don’t know if we’ll get by the international police force.”

“Where is Vanessa?” Dan wondered. “She’s our cover. I never thought I’d say this, but snacks just aren’t that important!”

Just then the door at the end of the car opened. The man in the raincoat entered. He followed closely behind a train official, who politely asked a couple for their passports. Dan twisted and saw Vanessa heading down the aisle, her hands full of bags of chips and pretzels. She squeezed past the man and the train official.

Vanessa waved the bags at them cheerfully.

“Whew,” Dan said. “She’s back. Are you ready to be a Wowzabelle? I’ll take the tuba, and maybe you can