“He’s staring at me.”
“It’s a statue. Just stand somewhere else.”
I moved along the courtyard. His eyes followed me.
“Not helping,” I said.
Von Han Hammerson groaned.
“Look, it’s just a statue. It’s not looking at you. It’s just . . . ” his voice trailed off.
“You see what I mean?” I said, walking back the way I had come. “His eyes just sort of follow you wherever you go.”
“Weird,” Han said.
He stood there silently rubbing his chin, his unblinking gaze boring into the chiseled stone while I paced before the statue watching its eyes follow me back and forth.
The evening was cool, and my breath rose like the steam from an engine. Puff, puff, puff, went up. Von Han Hammerson too, letting out a long, contemplative sigh, produced a white cloud which obscured his face a moment. Then I saw, just a little bit, a little white cloud escaping from the statue’s nose.
“There! There, you see?” I gesticulated wildly.
“What?”
Walking up to the statue, I raised my fist and sent it flying into that stony cheek.
“Ow!” we both shouted.
The statue came down from his pedestal, holding his jaw, while I shook the pain out of my hand.
“Jeremy?” said Von Han. “When’d you get here?”
“Last night. I was waiting for this idiot to leave so I could talk to you.”
I considered my reddening knuckles.
“Jeremy?” I said to myself. Looking up, I asked, “The Jeremy? Jeremy Brahoust?”
Von nodded.
I studied my hand.
“I just uncovered the world’s greatest spy!”
Von Han harumphed at this, mumbling, “The world’s most famous spy.” A grumble. “The whole point is to be unknown.”
“Who is this?” the statue asked.
“He knows too much. Can’t kill him. Best to keep him on a short leash so he doesn’t cause trouble.”
“I decoded your messages. Very clever code. I thought it was just kids playing.”
“How long has he been listening in on us?” Jeremy asked Von.
“About a week,” I answered.
“Well, I don’t want him hearing anything else,” Jeremy said.
Von smiled at me and said, “Hey mate, go take a walk.”
“Fine,” I said.
I sauntered down the courtyard. Very clever of Jeremy to dress up as a statue. Probably how he’d gotten away from us in ’63.
Tale Told 