Artemis Fowl_ The Opal Deception - Eoin Colfer [28]
Master Artemis did not like delays. But today he was too focused on his latest acquisition, The Fairy Thief, still sealed in its Perspex tube. Artemis itched to open it, but the previous owners, Sparrow and Crane, could have somehow booby-trapped the container. Just because there were no visible traps didn’t mean that there couldn’t be an invisible one. An obvious trick would be to vacuum pack the canvas, then inject a corrosive gas that would react with oxygen, and burn the painting.
It took almost two hours to reach the hotel, a journey that should have taken twenty minutes. Artemis changed into a dark cotton suit, then called up Fowl Manor’s number on his mobile phone’s speed dial. But before he connected, he linked the phone by firewire to his Powerbook, so he could record the conversation. Angeline Fowl answered on the third ring.
“Arty,” said his mother, sounding slightly out of breath, as though she had been in the middle of something. Angeline Fowl did not believe in taking life easy, and was probably halfway through a Tae Bo workout.
“How are you, Mother?”
Angeline sighed down the phone line. “I’m fine, Arty, but you sound like you’re doing a job interview, as usual. Always so formal. Couldn’t you call me Mom or even Angeline? Would that be so terrible?”
“I don’t know, Mother. Mom sounds so infantile. I am fourteen now, remember?”
Angeline laughed. “How could I forget? Not many teenage boys ask for a ticket to a genetics’ symposium for their birthday.”
Artemis had one eye on the Perspex tube. “And how is Father?”
“He is wonderful,” gushed Angeline. “I am surprised how well he is. That prosthetic leg of his is marvelous, and so is his outlook. He never complains. I honestly think that he’s got a better attitude toward life now than he did before he lost his leg. He’s under the care of a remarkable therapist, who says the mental is far more important than the physical. In fact, we leave for the private spa in Westmeath this evening. They use this marvelous seaweed treatment, which should do wonders for your father’s muscles.”
Artemis Fowl senior had lost a leg before his kidnap by the Russian Mafiya. Luckily, Artemis had been able to rescue him with Butler’s help. It had been an eventful year. Since Artemis senior’s return, he had been making good on his promise to turn over a new leaf and go straight. Artemis junior was expected to follow suit, but was having trouble abandoning his criminal ventures. Although, sometimes when he looked at his father and mother together, the idea of being a normal son to loving parents didn’t seem like such a far-fetched one.
“Is he doing his physiotherapy exercises twice a day?”
Angeline laughed again, and suddenly Artemis wished he were home.
“Yes, Granddad. I am making sure of that. Your father says he’ll run the marathon in twelve months.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Sometimes I think you two would spend your time wandering around the grounds holding hands if I didn’t check up on you.”
His mother sighed, and static rushed through the speaker. “I’m worried about you, Arty. Someone your age shouldn’t be quite so . . . responsible. Don’t worry about us; worry about school and friends. Think about what you really want to do. Use that big brain of yours to make yourself and other people happy. Forget the family business. Living is the family business now.”
Artemis didn’t know how to reply. Half of him wanted to point out that there really would be no family business if it weren’t for him secretly safeguarding it. The other half of him wanted to get on a plane home and wander the grounds with his family.
His mother sighed again. Artemis hated that just talking to him could make her worry.
“When will you be home, Arty?”
“The trip ends in three more days.”
“I mean, when will you be home for good. I know Saint Bartleby