Vespers Rising (The 39 Clues #11)(46)

There was a short silence. “It’s possible,” Erasmus said. “If so, it would be helpful to flush them out.”

“You mean we’re bait?” Dan asked. “Sweet!”

“Certainly not,” Fiske said. “We would never endanger you and Amy. You’ve been through enough.”

“More than enough,” Nellie said firmly.

“We’ve taken every precaution,” Erasmus said. “We made plane reservations from Logan Airport to a tropical resort. Three Madrigals will serve as decoys.”

“Including me,” Nellie said. “It will be so difficult to have to spend five days in Costa Rica, but hey, anything for you guys.”

One corner of Erasmus’s mouth lifted. “Yes, Nellie, we know how much you hate sunshine and beach towels. The point is — no one will know you’re heading to Switzerland. You’ll take off from Providence, Rhode Island.”

“When?” Dan asked.

“Tonight,” Fiske said.

“It’s just like old times,” Dan said as they disembarked from the plane in the Zurich airport the next morning. “Three hours of sleep, a lousy breakfast, and I feel like I have a bucket of sand in my eyes.”

“That’s probably potato chip crumbs,” Amy said. “You ate five bags on the plane.”

“I was hungry!”

“I was trying to sleep! Crunch crunch crunch! Right in my ear. All night long.”

“Guys? Can we focus?” Fiske asked, stifling a yawn. “Let’s get to the hotel, shower, get something to eat, and then we can head to the bank.”

“This is the cleanest airport I’ve ever seen,” Dan said, registering the gleaming hallway and stainless steel handrails.

“Welcome to Switzerland,” Fiske said. “Everything works.”

They followed signs to the train that would take them to the main terminal. They hadn’t checked any baggage. Amy and Dan were used to traveling light. All three had backpacks, and Fiske held a canvas tote bag with a guidebook and some newspapers.

They boarded the train with a crowd of other tired passengers. The train zipped through a concrete tunnel while a disembodied voice called out terminal information in several languages.

“Switzerland has four official languages,” Fiske told them. “German, French, Italian, and Romansch. Most people speak English, too. But you’ll hear more German in Zurich.”

“Look, Amy,” Dan said. “Heidi is blowing us a kiss.”

Sure enough, a moving image flashed on the window. A woman in braids standing in an alpine meadow waved and leaned forward to blow them a kiss.

“Wow, look at that. I’d love to see the Alps,” Amy said.

“We won’t have time for that on this trip,” Fiske said. “After the bank, it would be safest to leave the country. Tell you what; after we check in to the hotel, I’ll take you to Café Schober for a second breakfast — they have the best hot chocolate in the world.”

They exited the train at the main terminal and followed signs for baggage and taxis. “Wow, can’t we stay and buy some chocolate?” Dan asked, his head swiveling as he took in the array of shops. “Or a watch?”

“Switzerland is known for its banks, too,” Fiske said. “Let’s try that instead.”

As they reached the exit, they saw a driver in a thick wool coat and cap holding up a sign: SMITH.

“That’s us,” Fiske said.

“Smith?” Dan asked. “That’s the best you can do?”

“Hey, I like an easy alias.”

“Mr. Smith?” the driver asked crisply as they walked up. “Let me take your bags, sir. The car is right outside.”

“No luggage,” Fiske said. “We’re ready to go.”

They followed the driver to a black car parked with the other limousines and hired cars. Amy and Dan threw their backpacks inside the trunk, along with Fiske’s.

“We’ll be at the Widder Hotel in a few minutes, sir,” the driver said.

“Fine, fine,” Fiske said. The driver held the door, but Fiske suddenly staggered. He leaned on the frame of the car.

“You okay?” Dan asked him.

He wiped his forehead. “Just got dizzy for a minute. I forgot to take my medication on the plane.”

“What m —” Dan started to ask, but Amy stepped on his foot. Something was wrong.

“You forgot again?” she said in concern.

“Could you get my pack?” Fiske asked the driver.

“Of course, sir.”

As soon as the driver moved toward the rear of the car, Fiske jerked his head away from the car. The three of them leaped back on the curb and raced toward the taxi stand. Fiske signaled a cab that was just letting off a passenger. Urging them forward in a run, he sidestepped the exiting passenger and danced Dan and Amy into the backseat. He jumped in after them.

“Drive!” he barked to the driver.

“Of course. That is what one does in this kind of situation. But where, sir?”

“Anywhere! The Fraumünster! As quick as you can!” Fiske ordered.

“What just happened?” Dan exploded.

“I never gave the car company our hotel information,” Fiske said.