The Crayfish brothers were not known for their subtlety, and they lived up to their reputation as they slammed their car into the back of the van. Neil lurched forward and his head quickly snapped back. He felt dizzy.
Jones turned off the car and practically flew out of his door. Neil watched as he passed the window, a perfect picture of rage and danger. Neil felt sorry for the Crayfish, if they didn’t come up with a way to mollify Jones quickly.
Neil turned around and was a little surprised to see both brothers emerge from their car with smiles on their faces and their hands in the air in front of them, clearly suggesting they had no intention of fighting.
Neil rolled down his window a crack, listening. He also noticed the twins still smelled like cheese.
“Now, mate, let’s not get too hasty. We would like to make a deal,” Reggie said.
Jones said nothing but stopped walking and clenched his fingers into fists.
“You know we’ve got Rose. She’s been very helpful . . . up to a point,” Ronnie said. “But she don’t know as much as what we hoped.”
Jones gritted his teeth. “If you so much as laid a finger on her . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence, but his threatening stance sufficed.
Reggie smirked. “She’s okay, for now.”
“What do you want?”
“A trade. We know Lord Lane was onto something, something big.”
Reggie nodded. “He told us so. He kept promising he’d pay us back as soon as he ‘discovered the Bard’s jewel.’ We assumed the Bard was some other richy friend of his.”
“But then he kept asking for more and more money to help him. More and more and more.”
“That’s when we got a little tired of being the personal bankers to the esteemed gentleman.” Reggie cracked his knuckles.
Neil shuddered. Had that been when they’d decided to kill him? Had they made a deal with Skink to get the treasure and get Lord Lane out of the way?
“So here’s our offer to you and your little group of precocious children. You get us the jewel, and we’ll let Rose walk free.”
Jones was silent. Neil looked out the window and could see the blood vessels of Jones’s forehead bulging. He was taking deep breaths, but never took his piercing eyes off the twins.
“Just a simple exchange.” Ronnie smiled. Neil thought it looked like the smile on a crocodile.
Jones finally nodded. “Okay.”
A horrible thought occurred to Neil. Jones was so sure Rose wasn’t working for the bad guys, but what if she was and this was another trap? What if she knew that Neil was closer to finding the jewel and was trying to trick Jones into giving the Crayfish the last bit of information she needed?
Jones, convinced of her innocence, would give that information up to save his friend. It might be noble, but it might also mean that the brothers would lose any barrier to killing them all.
Neil got out of the car. A stiff breeze had come up and shook his jacket.
“Jones. This could be a trap.” He turned to the twins. “Not that it matters. We have no idea where the jewel is. Rose is the one who knows Shakespeare.”
“Shut up,” Jones hissed.
Neil ignored him. “She’s everyone’s best chance to find the treasure. Give her back to us now and we promise we’ll work together. We can split the reward, or treasure, or price or whatever . . .”
Reggie narrowed his eyes. “I should’ve taken care of you back at the cheese shop.”
Ronnie nodded. “You little runt. You know more than you been letting on.”
The twins took a step toward Neil and Jones.
This was not going as well as Neil had hoped.
Jones reached for his coat pocket, and the twins stopped, looking less like crocodiles now and more like rabid dogs.
“Don’t be a couple of idiots,” Jones said, keeping his hand clutched on whatever was in his pocket. “We’re in the middle of a busy street.”
As if on cue, a police officer turned the corner and saw them all poised for a fight. He walked over.
“What’s all this, then?” he said.
Jones carefully pulled his hand out of his coat. He was holding not a gun but his wallet. “We had a bit of a fender bender, officer,” Jones said. “I was just getting out my insurance papers so we could exchange information.”
The officer cocked an eyebrow but seemed convinced. “Is that the way of things?” he asked Reggie.
Reggie smiled. “Just a bit of a ding. The American bloke hit the brakes a little hard and we banged into the back. No biggie.”
The officer rocked on his heels for a second, considering. He turned to Neil, seeming to notice him for the first time.
“Well, what have we here?”
Neil was desperate to blurt out the truth, to tell them that the Crayfish brothers had kidnapped Rose or were possibly working for her, or with her and the actor Cullen Skink, or maybe the Queen, or not, or . . . He was having trouble deciding where he could start and still have time to finish before the brothers decided a gun-filled escape was there only chance.
“Well, officer. I’m here because the Queen is expecting me to—”
But the officer cut him off. “The Queen?” His expression was one of bemused dismissal. “Now, now, my fine lad. This is no place for a juvenile, especially one with an overactive imagination. Please get back in the car while we grown-ups settle this affair.”
“But officer!” Neil said, but the bobby held up his hand to stop Neil and then waved him back toward the car. A quick glare from Jones also convinced Neil that he should stop talking.
Neil frowned. The Crayfish brothers were laughing at him quietly. He walked back into the car, gritting his teeth.
“Neil, what is—” Isabella began to ask, but Neil shushed her. He carefully pointed to the window, which he’d kept open a crack to hear the rest of the conversation.
“Here’s my insurance information,” Jones said. Neil stole a glance at the side mirror and saw Jones handing the brothers a piece of folded paper. The officer nodded his approval, but Reggie handed the paper back, the breeze making it flap.
“And maybe you could write down your telephone number, the one I was asking you for before the nice constable arrived, on the back.”
Jones scribbled something down on the paper and then handed it back. It seemed to please Reggie, and he waved to Ronnie that they should leave.
“We’ll be in touch after we speak to our solicitor,” Ronnie called as they walked back to their car.
They waited until the officer had tipped his hat to Jones and walked away, back to their car.
They got in, started it up, and then pulled up alongside the van. “Glad you didn’t try anything funny with the copper,” Ronnie said. He held up the paper. “If we find the jewel, we’ll let you know where you can find Rose. If this is a trick, we’ll let you know where you can find her body.” Then Ronnie gunned the engine and they were off.
Jones climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door behind him.
Neil kicked the back of the driver’s seat. “Jones, you know they are lying—”
Jones cut him off. “Neil, we’re done. I made a promise years ago to protect Rose, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“But they are going to get to the college first and then they’ll find the jewel first!” Neil said.
Jones turned the ignition and pulled into traffic. “How stupid do you think I am? Those two idiots are off to see a grave in Stratford-upon-Avon.”
“Shakespeare’s hometown,” Larry said.
Jones drove along slowly, until they all saw the Crayfish brothers take a left turn a few blocks ahead; then he sped up and turned right quickly, down an alleyway.
“Two hours to drive there. An hour to dig. Two seconds to get furious. Then all bets are off.”
Isabella took a deep intake of breath. “So we have about three hours to find the jewel and then find Rose.”
Jones responded by gunning the engine. He looked back over his shoulder. “And Neil, call Nakamura.”
