“Why? What did you discover?”
“It has to do with the twelve people he’s killed. They weren’t random.”
“You already told me on the phone. Elaborate.”
“I prefer to talk to Margaret Kent,” Inspector Dormouse said.
“Then you’ll have to wait, Inspector. A long time, so excuse me because I am supposed to find a way to save our Prime Minister.”
“Mr. Paperwhite?”
“Yes, him. The one the Queen recommended for the position.” He said and walked away.
“Wait,” the Inspector said. “May I ask why he is called Mr. Paperwhite?” He had considered it weird the Prime Minister had such a name, especially when it was the name of a character in Alice Through the Looking Glass, a man who only wore white papers for clothes.
“Really? You don’t get why the Queen calls the Prime Minister, Mr. Paperwhite?”
“Trust me. I gave it a thought, but didn’t get it.”
“Because he is like a piece of white sheet paper to her, she can write anything she wants on his clothes, and then he’d babble it out on TV, as if they were his own thoughts.”
The Inspector realized he was grinning, watching Carolus walk away. It was devious, what the Queen did, but the irony and cleverness of it amused him.
He sat back on the couch, preparing himself for another nap. After all, he couldn’t leave without telling them who The Pillar really was. It would turn everything that had been happening in the world for the last weeks on its head.
Chapter 27
The Pillar’s private plane
It only takes us a couple of hours to get to The Pillar’s plane, which he has previously parked in a private hangar nearby. It wasn’t the mousy Chauffeur who was helping this time — The Pillar said he’s let him go home to his family — but another nerdy young man who believed in the evilness of Black Chess.
“Get on the plane,” The Pillar tells me. “Before they catch us.”
I climb up the stairs, watching the young man throwing me one of those sympathizing looks again. “I pray for you,” he says, and I roll my tired eyes for one more time.
I am about to scream and pull hair when he hands me my pot of Tiger Lily, telling me they’ve picked it up from the safe box.
Up on the plane, I strap in next to The Pillar, who is flying this time. He puts on his oversized goggles and wears a helmet with England’s flag on it, as if he’s riding a motorcycle not a plane. “I am doing this for my country. You know that, Alice, right?” He sounds like a child with a toy plane, ready to play James Bond.
“All in her Majesty’s service.” I play along.
“You mean the real Majesty, right?” he adjusts some levers. “Not the Queen of Hearts. I wonder what happened to real Queen of England.”
The plane speeds up on the runway, and we’re ready to go wherever the Deep Blue machine is.
“Hang on, Alice.” The Pillar cheers.
“I am.” I find my back glued to the seat. “You know how to fly this one, right?”
“I do, but a simple side fact: most plane crashes happen while they take off, so technically getting closer to heaven is the scariest part of the flight.”
I close my eyes, and wish I could shut my ears, so I’d stop hearing him hail like a lunatic. As my heart sinks into my feet, the plane wriggles midair for a moment, then my whole inner compass is messed up. I am so confused at what’s going on I am forced to open my eyes again, only to realize the plane is upside down and I am dangling from my seatbelt.
“Had to do it, Alice,” The Pillar’s upside down face talks to me, his mouth looks really weird that way. “Been dreaming of doing this since…”
“You were a child?”
“No, just a couple of minutes ago.”
Finally, he flies the plane back in its normal position.
A few minutes later, I am ready for more questions. “So where do IBM keep the Deep Blue machine now? Where are we going?”
“Let’s keep it a surprise,” he says. “But know this, Deep Blue has only been used once, in that championship game. Never again. Rumors had it they kept the genius machine in one of the IBM buildings, but later it reappeared in the Computer History Museum in Mountain View, California. They claimed it was a similar one, but it was the real one. For some reason they didn’t want to get rid of it, neither did they want it shown to the public.”
“So where is it now?”
“In the last place you could ever think of. You’ll see.”
I let out a sigh, but I am used to The Pillar’s vagueness. What’s confusing me is… “What are we actually doing, Pillar?”
“Following the clue.”
“To get us where?”
“So we can find Carroll’s Knight.”
“Which is presumably another chess piece in the shape of a knight?”
“Exactly, part of Lewis Carroll’s special chessboard, the one Fabiola only knew about.”
“And you think the clue in the White Queen chess piece will lead us to it?”
“I hope so, or the Chessmaster will kill more world leaders. Who knows what he has in store for us if we don’t find it. And don’t ask me why he wants it. I have no idea.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t try calling Fabiola?”
“She won’t talk. I know her.”
“You mean you love her,” I am being blunt now. “I’ve read the note you sent to her while she was still in the Vatican.”
The Pillar’s face dims. No more happy, playful attitude. Even the plane winces a little in his apt hands. “How did the letter end up in your hands?”
“The March Hare,” I say. “He took it on her behalf, because when you sent it, she’d just left the Vatican. Her assistant collected the letter and sent it to the Inklings where the March read it.”
“And the key?”
“It’s safe with the March Hare, and Fabiola doesn’t know about it. Don’t avoid my question. How is it you’re in love with Fabiola?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice is shattered and weak. He stares ahead, avoids my eyes, and I feel guilty bringing it up.
In that same instant, I receive a message from the March Hare. It’s saddening news. The kind of news I shouldn’t be telling The Pillar, not now.
“Who’s the message from?” The Pillar asks. “Your Red admirer?”
“It’s from the March Hare. Something happened to Fabiola.”
The Pillar grips the stick harder, still not facing me. He doesn’t even ask what happened to her, pretending to be that tough guy who never breaks down.
“She is dying, Pillar,” I say as slow and soft as I can. “Someone poisoned her.”
The Pillar says nothing, his knuckles whitening around the flying stick.
“Do you wish to turn back? Maybe you want to see her before she dies.”
“No,” The Pillar says in a flat voice. “Saving the world from the Chessmaster is more important.”
I say nothing. Silence chokes both of us in the cockpit.
“In fact, I feel like doing this again,” The Pillar says, and flies the plane upside down again, like a child in pain with too many toys.
Chapter 28
Buckingham Palace, London
The Queen of Hearts had been following the event on TV, as well as awaiting updates from Margaret. The news host announced the latest unfolding events, telling about Alice and The Pillar not finding Carroll’s Knight, but a chess piece of a White Queen instead. One of the Chessmaster’s men had seen them opening the coffin in Marostica, and reported it to the news.
“A White Queen chess piece?” the Red Queen spoke to her dogs, hands on her waist. She didn’t care for her guards or advisors at the moment. Whatever was going on seemed beyond anyone’s grasp.
She paced her chamber, thinking about the chess piece. If the Chessmaster wanted Carroll’s Knight, whatever that was, why did they come across this White Queen piece? Was it supposed to really lead Alice and The Pillar to Carroll’s Knight? And why would the Chessmaster sacrifice the world to get it?