The Hidden Keys. Andre Alexis

with most of anything he and Willow might find.

      – You’ll get my share, she said.

      – You’d give me your inheritance? asked Tancred.

      – There’s nothing I need, said Willow. This isn’t about gain, Tancred. I just want to know I’m right about Dad hiding something. I want to know what’s hidden and I want to know why. That’s all. I know you, Tancred. Even if you are a thief, you’ve got principles. I want you to promise me you’ll take my share of whatever you find. And promise you’ll give the rest to my brothers and sisters.

      When he thought about her words, later, it seemed pointedly significant that she made him promise to take her share, as if she’d known she would not be around to see it. Whatever the case, he’d agreed to this, too. He again gave his word.

       5 The Japanese Screen

      It was odd to think of a death like Willow’s as unexpected. Tancred had seen her gradually shrink into a sere version of herself. Of all the people he knew, she had been for some time the one most likely to die without warning. Yet, her death was a kind of surprise, because it interrupted the task they’d begun.

      Shortly after showing him the Japanese screen, Willow had it moved to a loft she’d rented for him, a place bigger than his own where they could meet. There, late at night, Tancred – alone or with Willow – stared at the screen, breaking it down in his mind to its constituent elements, trying to find some hidden sense in it:

      – wood (from a willow tree)

      – gold leaf

      – inks (black and coloured)

      – dimensions when open: 5 feet x 12 feet x 4 inches

      – dimensions when closed: 5 feet x 2 feet x 2 feet

      – numbers associated with it: 5, 12, 6, 2, 137

      – names associated with it: Willows at the Uji Bridge, Salix Babylonica

      – biblical reference: Psalm 137 ‘By the rivers of Babylon …’

      – on the wood behind the sixth panel, the letters ‘a(ա)’ thickly printed in black

      Tancred felt ridiculous peering at the screen’s panels, searching for meaning. He had no idea which aspects of the thing signified and which did not. After a while, he left the speculating to Willow, though her words – those he took in – were not enlightening.

      – There must be something important about Babylon, she’d whisper.

      or

      – Could he have meant Iraq?

      Instead, Tancred did what he knew best: he prepared to steal the reproduction of Fallingwater from Willow’s sister Gretchen and the painting from her sister Simone. Willow advised him to steal trivial things along with the memento, so as to disguise his (or, rather, her) intent. And, of course, he should work as efficiently as possible, so they could examine all five together before, as she herself put it, her health worsened.

      Here, there was what Willow called a ‘caveat’ – an important detail is what she meant. It seemed Michael’s bottle of aquavit would be very difficult to steal. He lived in Castle Rose, an exclusive, reputedly burglar-proof building on the lakeshore. Tancred had heard of the place, though he knew it as the ‘Hidden Castle.’ Though Willow had visited Michael, she could tell Tancred neither the number of Michael’s condominium nor the floor on which it was to be found. Her only clue to its whereabouts – the only clue she herself possessed – was that Michael’s neighbour was a one-legged military man who insisted on being called Colonel. Michael despised him. Aside from that, neither she nor anyone else had the least idea how to find Michael’s place.

      And here, too, there was a lure. Willow had already begun her own inquiry. In the time between their first meeting and now, she had discovered a few things: a possible solution that led, perhaps, to a cemetery, and the meaning of the ‘a(ա)’ on the back of the screen. This was the only detail she shared with him, because she was proud of herself. But she had found nothing else of which she was certain and she did not want to pollute his mind with her guesses. First thought, best thought, she believed. She wanted his first thought, when all the mementos were finally gathered together. Only then would she share the rest of her ideas with him.

      Unfortunately, Willow’s health worsened faster than either of them thought it would. Or, to put it another way, what had been a long time coming came at last. Her glacially paced suicide was finally accomplished, hastened in the end by a vicious pneumonia. Tancred saw her a week or so before he broke into Gretchen’s home. She was anxious that everything go right.

      – Remember, she said, take other things. But don’t take anything too valuable!

      She gave him money ‘for your expertise and your expenses.’ Twenty thousand dollars in hundreds – cash, so the two of them could not be linked by cheques or transfers. If anything went wrong, she would deny having anything to do with him. She’d have to. It would be too humiliating to admit to Alton, her eldest brother, that she’d stolen from them. She simply could not. She was sorry. She was very sorry, but Alton must not know.

      Willow closed her purse and, referring to the twenty thousand she’d just given him, said

      – It’s awkward carrying around so much paper.

      They agreed to meet after he’d stolen Fallingwater or Simone’s painting. She got up to leave.

      – I’m grateful you’re doing this, she said. I’ll see you in a few days. But Tancred never saw Willow Azarian again.