Chapter 10
Tom-Tom Crow dropped the screwdriver. It fell to the floor with an audible thud.
Eric Bear stopped in his tracks, paralyzed by fear. He could see how the silhouettes of Sam Gazelle and Snake Marek remained standing a few meters farther away in the dark room.
They had broken into Hotel Esplanade less than a minute ago. The weather was past midnight, and the Chauffeurs had neither been seen nor heard for several hours. They ought to be safe. But they were breaking into the house of death. If they were discovered here, neither police nor prosecutor could help them; then they were doomed.
The seconds passed.
The sound from the screwdriver spread through the dark building. Only when the sound had forced its way into every nook and corner without anything happening did Eric dare to set his paw down on the floor.
“We’re going in,” he whispered to Tom-Tom, who was standing closest to him.
The big crow nodded, and along with the gazelle and the snake they went straight into the hideout of the Chauffeurs.
A few days after the sensational discovery that the Chauffeurs were hanging out a wing-stroke’s distance from Yiala’s Arch, the four stuffed animals kept Hotel Esplanade under observation. The hotel was an ordinary building with a spackled gray and white finish, but with a peculiar feature. It lacked doors and windows on the street level. Apart from the secret garage entrance, which was a part of the fa?ade itself, there was nowhere to go in.
“But we have to get the hell in,” the crow declared wisely. “How else are we going to get hold of the list?”
“It’ll work out,” replied Eric Bear. “We’ll lie low a few days, map out their routines, learn how the opposition looks. Snake is going to think up a plan. Aren’t you, Marek?”
Snake grunted. He was unsure whether Eric was flattering or teasing him.
They drew up a schedule. Because the Chauffeurs only worked at night, the four at Yiala’s Arch were forced to alter their daily rhythms. Eric returned the cars he’d borrowed, but kept the gray Combi. It was perfect to use for surveillance work, neutral and boring beyond recognition. They parked the car kitty-corner from the camouflaged garage door and took turns spending hours in the driver’s seat, making note of every observation.
But nothing happened.
In the twilight, the door to the secret garage was opened and the Chauffeurs drove the red pickup out. Right before dawn, they returned after completion of duty. In between: nothing.
Before the third night, Eric acquired a camera with a massive zoom and a lens that worked in the dark.
“Let’s find out who they are, these Chauffeurs,” the bear said to his friends. “Tom-Tom says that they’re stuffed animals just like us. Perhaps we can find them in one of the windows? If nothing else, we ought to be able to get a picture of them as they drive in and out of the garage.”
“Okay,” said Sam, shrugging his shoulders. “But why?”
They sat, having breakfast at the kitchen table. A crumb from a piece of toast with orange marmalade was stuck to the corner of Sam’s mouth, and his long, red tongue captured it and made it disappear.
“I don’t have a real plan,” Eric admitted. “But the more we know, the better, right?”
“Maybe,” said Snake. “Maybe not. There are occasions when a lack of information can be the thing that—”
“Besides, I’m damned tired of just sitting and staring at that wall,” Eric interrupted with irritation. “But anyone who feels he’s so occupied with other important matters that he doesn’t have time to deal with the camera can just let it be.”
“You have a point there, darling,” giggled Sam.
Snake sighed. He knew that he was the one who would be forced to process the photographs; only he could do that sort of thing.
The following morning they had the first—and as it turned out only—razor-sharp visual portrayal of ChauffeurTiger. It was a fortunate chance, light reflected toward the hood of a car, lighting up the driver’s seat of the pickup at the same moment that Snake happened to snap the picture. He’d set the camera on the dashboard above the steering wheel. But it wasn’t until he developed the picture the following evening that he realized what he’d photographed.
The image that slowly appeared in the developer bath became sharper and sharper. He took the photo paper from the solution and hung it up to dry, but couldn’t continue with the rest of the roll. From the drying line ChauffeurTiger was staring right into Snake’s narrow eyes and beyond, into his soul. Tiger’s face was enormous, his fur gray and battered but his gaze hard and cold. It was a gaze that could kill; these were eyes that had seen everything. During his entire adult life, Snake Marek had struggled with doubt about his own artistic abilities. Faced with ChauffeurTiger’s unmerciful gaze, he could hide nothing.
Snake recoiled, shocked and afraid, and wriggled out of the bathroom which he’d turned into a darkroom. During the ensuing night, the friends determined that there were apparently only three Chauffeurs, the tiger and two wolves. They probably went in shifts, and these three would be replaced by three others at some later time.
The wolves were no charmers, either, but despite their sharp, yellow teeth and their scornfully pulled-back upper lips, it was still ChauffeurTiger who gave Sam, Eric, Snake, and Tom-Tom nightmares.
And it was the thought of being caught by ChauffeurTiger that meant that they hesitated another few days before they dared break into Hotel Esplanade.
They came into a kind of all-purpose room which was large, dark, and deserted.
“Snake and Sam, you take the right side, we’ll take the left,” whispered Eric, making a gesture.
They didn’t know what they were looking for. The Death List could be a coffee-stained scrap of paper on a nightstand, but just as likely a document in a leather folder locked up in a safe. They had also discussed the risk that the Chauffeurs took the list with them in the red pickup.
Eric took a few steps toward the door to the left. He heard Tom-Tom directly behind him. The snake and the gazelle were still standing beside him.
“We’ll do this as fast as hell,” hissed Eric. “Then we’ll get out of here.”
They worked efficiently for the next few minutes. The bear side by side with the crow. It was easier to search through the premises than Eric had thought. The Chauffeurs had hardly any furniture and very few personal effects. The dust bunnies revealed that they weren’t interested in cleaning, but there were nooks where things could be hidden. When, after less than a quarter of an hour, Eric and Tom-Tom went back out to the large room where Snake and Sam were already waiting, they were rather certain that they hadn’t missed anything.
“Nothing,” whispered Snake.
“Not us, either,” answered Tom-Tom.
“Now let’s split,” said Sam.
The gazelle’s entire body was shaking. It had already been shaking when, a half hour ago, they had raised the ladder against the window on the second story. That window had stood ajar since they’d starting keeping an eye on Hotel Esplanade. As the gazelle was climbing up, the ladder had shaken so much that the crow had been forced to use all of his weight to hold the ladder steady.
“We’re not going to find any list. There is no list. We’re still alive. Let’s leave,” Sam clarified.
Eric nodded. There was nothing else to do.
They returned to the corner room with the open window. They had pulled the ladder up after them; now they carried out the opposite maneuver in order to make their way back down to the street.
“Fiasco,” muttered Snake Marek as they were on their way toward Yiala’s Arch a few minutes later.
“We’re alive,” said Gazelle. “That has to count as a success, old man.”