‘Focus!’ he barked. ‘Look up there now. At Priam’s Crown. At the inscription written on it in the Trojan tongue. That tells you the location of the Blue Bell. What does it say?’

Iolanthe blinked, trying to switch from emotional despair to academic focus. ‘Er, well, it reads: “The Blue Bell resides within the body of one of the two great Heliopolitan stone spires, the one that gives all life forever.”’

Nobody said, ‘What are the two great Heliopolitan stone spires?’

Iolanthe swapped a look with Bertie. ‘Cleopatra’s Needles. The two obelisks that once stood in Heliopolis but which now stand in London and New York.’

‘Yes,’ Bertie said.

Iolanthe added, ‘They were both built by the pharaoh Thuthmoses III—a name, incidentally, that means Son of Thoth. The Blue Bell must be embedded inside one of them.’

‘But which obelisk is the correct one? New York or London?’ Nobody asked. ‘Chloe said she went to London.’

Iolanthe nodded. ‘She did . . . but that was a mistake.’

Iolanthe glanced at Bertie again, like a student addressing a teacher. ‘The clue is in the final phrase: the one that gives all life forever.’

‘It is,’ Bertie nodded.

‘It’s the New York obelisk.’

‘I think so, too.’

Iolanthe grinned. ‘Chloe’s going to the wrong obelisk.’

‘That she is,’ Bertie said. ‘Now, go. Run! You must flee from here immediately so our enemies think you’re dead.’

‘Oh, Bertie . . .’

‘I have lived my life. Go and save the world, child, and live yours.’

Iolanthe gave the round-faced old monk a final embrace.

As they parted, Bertie pointed to a statue at the rear of the chamber: a tall statue of the goddess Athena.

‘It’s been a while since I read Virgil’s Aeneid, but as I recall, the secret passage that Aeneas used to flee from Troy during the chaos at the end of the Trojan War lay behind a statue of Athena.’

Iolanthe hurried over to it and, sure enough, the huge statue was a door and it swung open on an ancient hinge to reveal a rough-walled passageway behind it.

As Nobody joined her in the doorway, Iolanthe gave Bertie one last look.

‘I love you, Bertie. I won’t forget this.’

‘I love you, too, my little moon of Jupiter,’ Bertie said. ‘Now go. In five seconds, I’ll lift my finger from this detonation switch.’

Nobody and Iolanthe raced down the exit tunnel, running for all they were worth.

Five seconds later, a massive explosion rocked the passageway around them.

Bertie and the vault of Troy and all its incredible, priceless contents, were no more.

On a hilltop a mile away from the Zampieri estate, a lone spotter left behind by Chloe saw the explosion shake the landscape and blow out the doors of the boathouse.

The spotter rang Chloe’s secure sat-phone number and reported this.