Overtime. Part 44

Somehow, all the efforts of the Chastel staff to find Blondel failed - remarkable enough in itself, since he spent a material amount of his time appearing at well-publicised concerts -until the day when the Antichrist received two tickets for the biggest Blondel gig of all; according to the pre-concert hype, the very last Blondel gig of all.

Well yes, the Antichrist said to himself, the very last. The very last ever.

'Do come in,' Blondel said. 'Would you like a drink? Do please sit down.'

The Antichrist found no difficulty in walking, despite the lack of one leg; he walked perfectly naturally, as if he refused to believe that the other leg wasn't there. He could even stroll, trot and run if he saw fit. Just now, he was swaggering.

'Thanks,' he said. 'I'll have a dry martini.'

Blondel nodded and fiddled with the bottles on the drinks tray. 'What about you, Your Excellencies?'

The two Popes Julian - or, to be exact, Pope and Anti-Pope - shook their heads. 'Not while they're on duty,' the Antichrist explained.

'I thought that was only policemen.'

'And Popes,' he replied, 'but only when they're being simultaneous.'

'Ah yes,' Blondel said, handing the Antichrist his drink. 'I meant to ask you about that. They don't mind being discussed like this, do they?'

'Not at all,' the Antichrist said. 'Since they can't speak, I do the talking for them. Not that they matter a d.a.m.n, anyway, since I'm here. I only brought them in case they wanted to see the show.'

'Thank you,' Blondel said, accepting the compliment. 'I gather that you're a fan, too.'

'Absolutely,' the Antichrist replied. 'I've got a complete set. In fact, quite soon I shall have the only complete set in existence. It'll be a nuisance having to go down to the Archives every time I want to hear it, but never mind.'

Blondel raised an eyebrow. 'The Archives?' he said. 'How do you mean?'

'Now then,' the Antichrist said, 'don't be obtuse. You're coming with me, Blondel, whether you like it or not. You've had your bit of fun, but it's all over. You do understand that, don't you?'

'Have an olive,' Blondel replied. 'They're quite good, actually.'

'Thank you.'

'Enjoying the show?'

'Yes. Very much.'

Blondel sat down and put his hands behind his head. 'Pity you won't hear the second half, then.'

The Antichrist shrugged. 'That's how it is,' he said. 'Why did you do it, Blondel? Have you just got tired of running? Or have you finally seen how much damage you've been doing all these years?'

'You mean,' Blondel replied, 'why did I invite you to my concert?'

'That's right.'

Blondel leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands. 'Simple,' he said. 'I'd have invited you to all my concerts, but I've only just found out your address. Or at least your telephone and fax numbers. I've wanted to get in touch with you for a very long time.'

The Antichrist grinned. 'I'll bet,' he said. 'But why didn't you just go along with Pursuivant and Clarenceaux? I sent them to fetch you, hundreds of times.'

'And it was very kind of you,' Blondel said. 'To be absolutely frank - another olive? - I don't feel entirely comfortable with Clarenceaux and Pursuivant and that lot. If I'd gone with them when you so kindly sent them to fetch me, I'd have felt - how shall I put it?'

'Captured?'

'Yes, that'll do. Captured. How is Richard, by the way?'

The Antichrist smiled. 'I don't know,' he said. 'I gather he's still down there, somewhere. Can't be very comfortable for him, what with the rats and the complete isolation and the darkness and the damp and everything, but until you've been sorted out, we can't send him on to his Archive. Pity, really; it s a nice Archive. He'll like it. And so will you.'

'No doubt.' Blondel sat on the arm of the sofa and looked at his watch. 'Look, I hate to rush you, but I've got to be back on stage in five minutes, and I want to have a word with the idiot in charge of the lights. Don't you think it's time we did a deal?'

The Antichrist laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

'Listen, mortal,' he said. 'You're in no position to make a deal. You're coming with me, and that's that.'

'Actually,' Blondel said, 'you're wrong there. I took the liberty of putting something in your drink. Apart from vermouth and gin, that is. In a very short time you'll be sleeping like a baby.'

The Antichrist tried to get up, but his knee refused to operate. His mouth opened but nothing came out of it except an olive stone.

'Oh good,' Blondel went on, 'it's starting to work. I will be brief, for a change. What I propose is a simple exchange of hostages. You for Richard.'

'But I'm not a... 'The words came very slowly out of his mouth, which was scarcely surprising, since his jaw was setting like concrete.

'Very soon,' Blondel said gently, 'you will be in the dungeons of the Chastel de Nesle. I'll try and make things as comfortable for you as I can. Clean straw once a year, all that sort of thing. Honestly, I'm surprised at you; and you, Julian and Julian. Didn't you realise this was likely to be a trap?'

The two Popes tried to get to their feet; unfortunately, the effort of manifesting themselves simultaneously without c.o.c.king up the balance of history was too great, and they flopped back against the cushions. Blondel pressed a buzzer and the door opened.

'Be a good chap, Giovanni, and fetch that laundry basket,' he said. Giovanni nodded and left.

'You won't get away with this,' the Antichrist managed to say; but by the time he'd finished the last word he was fast asleep. Blondel removed the gla.s.s from his hand, smiled gently and put a pillow behind his head. They might be mortal enemies, but there was no point in letting the fellow get a crick in his neck for no reason.

'Here we are,' Giovanni said. 'You two, give me a hand.'

The Galeazzo brothers gently transferred the Antichrist and the two Julians into the basket, secured the lid and sat on it. Blondel nodded his approval.

'Right then,' he said. 'Let's be getting on with it. You take the basket back to the Chastel and we'll meet there after the show.

'Will do,' Giovanni replied. 'And I can be getting on with the ransom note.

Blondel shrugged. 'If you like,' he said. 'I don't think that's entirely necessary, though, do you?'

'Maybe not,' Giovanni said with a grin, 'but it'll be fun.'

'We're lost, aren't we?' Isoud said.

Guy sat down on the step and nodded. They'd been down here for a very long time, and there were no more sausage rolls left. This was a silly game.

'It's not your fault,' said La Beale Isoud rea.s.suringly, and while Guy was still recovering from that one, she added, 'I think you're coping very well, in the circ.u.mstances.'