Artemis Fowl_ The Opal Deception - Eoin Colfer [30]
Artemis routed the call through Fowl Manor, then sent the edited sound file by infrared to his own mobile phone.
“Principal Guiney.” The voice was unmistakably Angeline Fowl’s, and the caller ID would confirm it. “I’m worried about Arty. He has a dose of food poisoning. His outlook is marvelous and he never complains, but we want him home with us. You understand. I put Arty on a plane home. I am surprised he got a dose of food poisoning under your care. We will talk more on your return.”
That took care of school for a few days. The dark half of Artemis felt an electric thrill at the subterfuge, but his growing conscience felt a tug of guilt at using his mother’s voice to weave his web of lies.
He banished the guilt. It was a harmless lie. Butler would escort him home, and his education would not suffer through a few days’ absence. As for stealing The Fairy Thief, theft from thieves was not real crime. It was almost justifiable. Yes, said a voice in his head, unbidden. If you give the painting back to the world.
No, replied his granite-hearted half. This painting is mine until someone can steal it away. That’s the whole point.
Artemis banished his indecision and turned off his mobile phone. He needed to focus completely on the painting, and a vibrating phone at the wrong moment could cause his hand to jitter. His natural inclination was to pop the stopper on the Perspex tube’s lid. But that could be more than foolish: it could be fatal. There were any number of little gifts that Crane and Sparrow could have left for him.
Artemis took a chromatograph from the rigid suitcase that contained his lab equipment. The instrument would take a sample of the gas inside the tube and process it. He chose a needle nozzle from a selection of several and screwed it on to the rubber tube protruding from the chromatograph’s flat end. He held the needle carefully in his left hand. Artemis was ambidextrous, but his left hand was slightly steadier. With care, he poked the needle through the tube’s silicon seal, into the space around the painting. It was essential that the needle be moved as little as possible, so the container’s gas could not leak out and mingle with the air. The chromatograph siphoned a small sample of gas, sucking it into a heated injection port. Any organic impurities were driven off by heating, and a carrier gas transported the sample through a separation column and into a Flame Ionization Detector. There, individual components were identified. Seconds later a graph flashed up on the instrument’s digital readout. The percentages of oxygen, hydrogen, methane, and carbon dioxide matched a sample taken earlier from downtown Munich. There was a five percent slice of gas which remained unidentified. But that was normal. This was probably caused by complex pollution gases or equipment sensitivity. Mystery gas aside, Artemis knew that it was perfectly safe to open the tube. He did so, carefully slitting the seal with a craft knife.
Artemis put on a set of surgical gloves and teased the painting from the cylinder. It plopped onto the table in a tight roll, but sprung loose almost immediately. It hadn’t been in the tube long enough to retain the shape. Artemis spread the canvas wide, weighing the corners with smooth gel sacs. He knew immediately that this was no fake. His eye for art took in the primary colors and layered brushwork. Hervé’s figures seemed to be composed of light. So beautifully were they painted that the picture seemed to sparkle. It was exquisite. In the picture a swaddled baby slept in its sun-drenched cot near an open window. A fairy with green skin and gossamer wings had alighted on the windowsill and was preparing to snatch the baby from its cradle. Both of the creature’s feet were on the outside of the sill.
“It can’t go inside,” muttered Artemis absently, and was immediately surprised. How did he know that? He didn’t generally voice opinions without some evidence to back them up.
Relax, he told himself. It was simply a guess. Perhaps based on a sliver of information