Alex’s grandfather keyed in a combination, opened the safe, and pulled out a rough cloth sack weighed down by something heavy inside. “Tools for the job.” He waggled his mysterious prize at Alex, stuffed the sack into his Gladstone, then bent to inspect the safe further. Alex leaned over to watch.

“Nothing else.” The old man clicked his tongue in disappointment as he stood. “I was hoping Harry might have left some note or clue about what he’d found. I headed for Italy, y’see, to the house where the latest painting was stolen, hoping to find something. Harry stayed here in France, then somehow got on their trail. But he must’ve left in a rush.”

“Is this anything?” Alex brandished the newspaper story. “It was in Harry’s library. I mean, it’s from earlier, when we came over last time, but—”

The old man glanced over it and hurriedly shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “No, that’s nothing.” He gently plucked the page from Alex’s grip, dropped it into the safe at his feet, then kicked the door shut and pulled the display case back in place. “Let’s go.”

At the door, the old man paused, considering the broken lock. “Funny,” he mused. “I thought they’d come in the same window I did. It was open when I got up there.” He frowned, dismissed it. “We’d better get on. Long drive ahead.”

As they left the office, Alex touched a hand to the box that held Marvastro. Something his grandfather had told him previously was bothering him, an itch he needed to scratch: Once you’ve tried him, he’ll always tell you the same thing.

Obsolete coins still lay in a metal dish attached to the fortune-telling machine. As the old man disappeared down the stairs, Alex quickly fed one into the slot, then watched the imprisoned automaton lurch through its brief, furious imitation of life, a grinding display of rolling eyes and painful-looking breathing.

A small white card finally appeared, sliding out onto a tray as Marvastro fell lifeless. It lay blank side up. Alex felt his skin prickling as he turned it over.

POWER

“Alex!” The old man’s impatient voice sailed up from below. Alex stuck the card away in his wallet alongside the identical twin Marvastro had given him before, then hurried down the stairs.

IX.

STOP

“I’ve had an idea,” Alex’s grandfather said. They were driving through the city, roughly following the bending bank of the Seine. “Just need to make one quick stop.”

He turned onto a side street and pulled in.

“Now, I need to nip round the corner. You wait here. By the way, Alex, have you had any luck trying to, ah, connect with the tablet?”