Alex Van Helsing The Triumph of Death - By Jason Henderson Page 0,31

down the wall past a hundred other works to see small red lights, lasers that would sense if someone got within inches of the canvas.

“Did they damage it?” Alex asked.

Vienna shook her head. “It does not look like it.”

Alex looked at Sangster. “Why would someone mess with the same painting we were coming to look at?”

“Yeah, I’m wondering the exact same thing,” Sangster said.

Tomás was in a fury, questioning the guards. He called over a custodian, who entered from the far hall, and interrogated him. The custodian, about twenty, handsome and green-eyed, looked profoundly shocked. Alex gathered that he hadn’t seen anything. Tomás turned back to the minister and started speaking rapidly in Spanish.

“Uh-oh,” Sangster said.

“What?”

Vienna whispered huskily, “The curator is worried, and he doesn’t want us to remove it and look at it. It all seems strange now.”

“Tell him it’s important.”

Vienna frowned at Alex. Like that was gonna happen. “How would you say it? Papa has got this.”

Minister Cazorla spoke with ease now, using a soothing but firm tone. Alex got the gist of what he was saying: this is important; these people are here on an assignment, and the painting is untouched, and anyway we have a chance to look at it.

While the minister was explaining the situation, Alex looked back at the painting. As he moved closer, he caught a flicker of light off the painting’s surface. He stepped to the side, looking at it as it hung there. The flicker was odd, not covering the whole painting. “Huh.”

Sangster heard him. “What?”

“I don’t know. Something isn’t ri—”

Alex took a moment to take in the whole room. The custodian caught his eye again, moving around the corner with his mop and broom. Among the cleaning fluids and utilitarian white canisters in his bucket Alex saw a shiny brown can. It caught his eye because it didn’t fit; it looked—grocery-store-bought, not like something a custodian would clean a museum with.

He began moving toward the custodian slowly to get a better look.

For a moment he saw the image on the spray can. It was a picture of a man with a model head of thick brown hair. It was hair spray. Spraying that on a painting would leave a shiny film.

They were just at the corner and Alex called, “Excuse me.”

The custodian looked back. “Que? Lo siento, no…”

“Is that hair spray?” Alex made a motion of spraying his head as he walked closer to the man.

Without another word, the custodian slung the bucket at Alex and it clattered toward him, barely missing him.

The custodian turned and ran, his hat flying off as he really started to move. He was still carrying the mop. It was clearly meant to be used as a weapon. Who are you? Alex thought. You’re not a vampire and you’re not one of us, so who are you?

The blond custodian reached an exit door to a stairwell and slid to a stop next to it. He looked back at Alex as he slipped something out of his pocket. Alex felt adrenaline flood through his chest.

Don’t let it take you. What’s going on?

He’s got something in his hand. It’s a—

It looked like a deck of cards. The custodian took less than a second to swipe it across the magnetic sensor next to the door and the door opened. Of course. Because the door had been locked by the alarm, and this guy was prepared to unlock it. But if he wasn’t stealing, what was he doing?

Alex heard the others running behind him with the alarms still blaring. The man got through the door, and Alex moved fast to get in behind him. In the stairwell, the man ran up the first flight of stairs and started to turn as Alex took off after him. The door closed, and Alex suddenly heard pounding on the metal exterior as the others reached it, unable to pass.

“Hey! Stop! Who are you?” Alex cried.

The custodian turned at the first landing and swept around with the mop, catching Alex in the chest. Alex felt the air rush from his lungs as the mop bashed him back against the wall. The man let the mop drop as Alex kicked it aside and jumped, grabbing for the man’s ankles.

The man went down silently, already rolling. He was an expert, and as he spun Alex’s grasp weakened. He kicked up, smashing Alex in the ear as he went.

Within seconds, they were up again and running. They covered three flights before Alex heard the first-floor door