“You didn’t want him to propose?”
“I wasn’t sure. And I thought that if I wasn’t sure, then I probably didn’t want him to. I just couldn’t see myself saying yes, even if he had asked. Not that it mattered in the end, because he’d actually brought me here to break the news that he was married. He’d been married for years. And his wife had found out about me.”
Sam could not help but laugh. “Sorry,” he said, trying to control it. “But… he took you on a romantic weekend getaway so he could break up with you?”
“Even better than that,” Nina grimaced. “He didn’t want to end things. He just expected me to be alright with it. Oh, he spun me the usual line of bullshit about how she didn’t understand him and he’d leave her eventually. It was sad, really. So clichéd. I couldn’t believe that I’d put so much time and energy into something so… pathetic. So I told him to forget it, and I left. But of course I had nowhere to go, and I couldn’t find anywhere that wasn’t fully booked, so I ended up wandering around Bruges all night, trundling my suitcase behind me. And then he got pissed off at me for ending things and started sending me all these weird messages about how I’d better not think about getting involved with anyone else because he’d kill them, he’d kill me, all the usual nonsense that some men feel the need to spout. It stopped after a while. But I can’t say I’m keen to run into him again. I wouldn’t fancy him taking it into his head to start again.”
“Good thing it wasn’t him then,” Sam said, reaching for the wine bottle to refill their glasses.
“It certainly is.”
He waited to see whether Nina would say anything more. She did not. He wondered whether to talk to her about his theory that Steven was connected to the arms ring, but decided against it. It was clear that Nina did not want to discuss him any further, and as far as anyone could tell the arms ring had fallen apart after the death of Admiral Whitsun. ‘No sense in bringing it up, he thought. We’ve got enough on our plates as it is. Instead he took another deep draft of wine and watched the flames leap and dance in the grate, and they sat in companionable silence.
Chapter Twenty
Early the following morning, long before the caffeine had kicked in, Sam was shivering on the cobbles in the market square, staring up at the famous 12th century belfry. His shakiness had less to do with the cold than with the fact that he had barely slept the night before, tormented by the same strange dreams that had been plaguing him recently. ‘At least I can smoke in this house,’ he thought. ‘Maybe I’ll get a chance to pick up some whisky while we’re out.’
The tourists were not out and about yet. It was only 8am, an hour to go before the bell tower would open to the public. The carillon rang out, playing a metallic but tuneful rendition of Greensleeves high above their heads.
“Well, we’ll certainly be able to see the world from up there,” said Nina. She was standing between him and Purdue, her hands wrapped around a paper cup of hot chocolate from a branch of Leonidas that had opened just minutes earlier. “I suppose this is going to involve lots of small, narrow staircases, isn’t it?”
“I would imagine so.” Purdue’s tone of voice was reassuring, but he did not look in Nina’s direction. He was standing by the chained-off entrance to the belfry, watching intently for the first member of staff to appear. “Three hundred and sixty-six steps in total, mostly spiral staircases. Counting them may help, perhaps, or — one moment.”
Catching sight of a staff member, he swiftly stepped over the chain and took off towards her with his gangly stride. A brief, furtive conversation took place, money changed hands, and moments later Purdue was beckoning Nina and Sam to cross the barrier and join him. “This very obliging young lady has agreed to let us in a little early,” he said. “We have twenty minutes before her colleagues arrive, so we must be gone by then. We had better proceed quickly.”
‘Twenty minutes?’ Sam thought back to the time they had spent in the cave and the false start they had made in the search for the reliquary. ‘There’s no way this is only going to take us twenty minutes. It’s going to take us a while just to get up to the top of the tower.’ He began to climb. Behind him he could hear Nina counting down from three hundred and sixty six.
After climbing stone steps and wooden steps, winding their way up narrower and narrower passages, Nina’s count finally reached single digits. A plain wooden door opened onto the uppermost platform and an icy blast of wind hit Sam right in the face.
Bruges lay spread out in every direction, with miles of field and canal beyond the city. It may not have been the whole world that was visible, but it certainly felt like it. They had already passed the level that housed the carillon, and now they stood ranged around the vast bell that occupied the highest place in the tower.
“Oh, that’s so much better,” Nina sighed, moving over to the nearest window and taking in the view.
“Heights don’t bother you, then?” Sam asked.
“Not really. Just small spaces. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, I know, but somehow I don’t feel trapped up here the way I do on the stairs. I suppose the rationale is that I could always take my chances climbing down the walls. Or just jump.”
“You can be quite morbid, Nina,” Purdue’s tone was more admiring than critical. “It’s an interesting quality that I always enjoy observing. But we must solve this part of the puzzle. Look at these.” He pointed to the window sill, which had a metal inlay inscribed with the names of several cities, arrows pointing toward them and a note of the distance to reach them. “I believe these are the key. Addison Fabian has lived for many years on Monaco, so let us start by finding the one that points in that direction.”
They split up, each scanning the inscriptions in a different window. Sam ran his finger along the list of cities, pausing briefly when he found London. Edinburgh was not listed, but he still looked up. ‘The two cities I’ve called home,’ he thought, ‘both somewhere in that direction.’
“Over here!” Purdue called, beckoning them over. “This is it. This must be the south-facing window.”
“So what now?” Nina asked. “The clue didn’t say anything else, did it? It just led us here. What are we supposed to be looking for?”
Purdue said nothing but reached into his jacket and pulled out the reliquary and its key. Carefully he laid them down on top of the line pointing towards Monaco, first the box and then the key, and then unfolded his tablet, opened a map of the city and held it up over the items. On the screen a thin red line unfolded, snaking away from the belfry and towards their next destination. Swiping at the screen with his long, thin fingers, Purdue zoomed in to see where the line ended.
“How did you know you were supposed to do that?” Sam asked. “You’re not telling me that was a lucky guess.”
Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Does this have something to do with the work you were doing last night? Are you—”
“Sir?” A voice called from the stairs. The woman whom Purdue had bribed put her head round the door. “Sir, my colleagues are starting to arrive. You must leave now. Please, come with me.”
Purdue folded up the tablet and stuffed the box and key back into his pockets. “I shall explain later, Nina,” he promised. “Just trust me a little longer. Trust me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“You look like such a tourist,” Nina teased as Purdue held up his tablet, looking for the red lines that would lead them to their next stop. “The particularly obnoxious kind, snapping your holiday photos on a tablet. All you need is an offensively bright rain coat. And maybe a baseball cap, that would really complete the look.”