Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 The 39 Clues may have been a high-stakes treasure hunt with world domination as the prize. But sooner or later you always ended up in some dumb museum. Sad but true, Dan thought as the smiling tour guide led them through vast halls filled with floor-to-ceiling display cases. The Palace Museum inside the Forbidden City held more than three hundred thousand ceramic and porcelain pieces alone. "You could have soup in a different bowl every day for, like, a thousand years," he whispered to Amy. "This is the greatest art collection I've ever seen," she marveled, missing his wisecrack. "Even better than the Janus stronghold in Venice!" "Those emperors were Cahills, all right," Dan decided. "Totally loaded— like everybody else in

the family except us." Amy's brow knit. "The emperors lived here for six centuries. How do we know which generation was involved in the clue hunt?" "Our parents must have had an idea," Dan put in. "Why else would they come here after Africa?" She nodded. "Good point. Let's listen to the tour guide. We might learn something important." Dan groaned. Like there was going to be a Clue in the butterfly pattern on an old chamber pot. They already knew what they were looking for— the crest from The Last Emperor. It was out there somewhere, faded but still visible, on the wall of one of these buildings. Dan checked his watch. Still more than three hours to go before they were meeting Nellie, who was off with Saladin, looking for a hotel. And no chance of pushing the time up. None of their new phones had service in China. They were trapped here with three hundred thousand plates. "This collection began in the Ming dynasty, but the size increased greatly during the Qing," the guide was saying. "The Qing emperors were

renowned for their obsessive commitment to the arts…." "That's it!" Amy hissed. "That's what?" "Obsessed with art? Does that sound familiar?" Dan was beginning to clue in. "The Janus! Those guys would trade their mothers for a painting!" Amy's eyes were alight with excitement. "Dan, it's all coming together. Whatever brought our parents to China— it has something to do with the Janus branch. Something big." Dan nodded. "But how are we going to find the Janus crest if we're stuck doing the dishes?" Amy took in the walkie-talkie dangling from the guide's belt. "If that guy sees us sneaking away, he'll call security. Besides, we don't know where to look. The Forbidden City is the largest palace complex in the world. There are more than nine hundred buildings!" Dan opened their brochure to the grounds plan of the 180-acre Forbidden City. "I think I remember the movie. If I can figure out which

way to tilt this map—" He shifted the page, studying it intently. Dan had a photographic memory, but coordinating film scenes with a printed diagram was tricky. "Let's see, the doohickey of supreme whatchamacallit is over there—" "Hall of Supreme Harmony," Amy corrected. "—so I bet the Janus crest should be somewhere in this section, over by the whatchamacallit of tranquil thingamajig." "Palace of Tranquil Longevity," Amy supplied. "I'll find it," Dan decided. "Okay, you create a diversion—" His sister was nervous. "What diversion? I can't do cartwheels in here. Something could get broken." "Yeah," Dan said, "you wouldn't want these guys to run out of plates. It's not rocket science. Just go to the other side of the group and start asking boring questions. And while he's giving you boring answers, I'll slip away." "Fine," she replied, sounding only a little miffed at his word choice. She raised her hand. "Ex-ex—"

Stop it, she commanded herself. Her stammer often came out at moments of stress, but this was important. "Excuse me, how old are those pieces— no, these over here—" Amy had chosen well. A line of tall glass cases separated Dan from the group. It was no problem for him to slip out of the room. His sister was annoying, but he had to admit they made a pretty good team. Not bad for a couple of Madrigals, he reflected, and immediately regretted the thought. It was no joke. In Africa they'd learned that the aliases on their parents' passports— Mr. and Mrs. Nudelman— matched the names of a notorious pair of murderers and thieves. Mom and Dad— the Bonnie and Clyde of the Southern Hemisphere? Ridiculous. A coincidence. And yet… Husband and wife… ruthless killers… Madrigals… Just the thought of it made his shoulders sag. He got lost a few times sneaking out of the building, wandering through the labyrinth of

ornate rooms. At last, he managed to find an entrance and stepped out into the Forbidden City. It was an immense complex, with five ginormous palaces and seventeen that counted as merely huge— not to mention nearly a thousand smaller buildings of various shapes and sizes. The temples, monuments, and gardens seemed to go on forever. It really was a city— as if half of downtown Boston had all been built for one guy to live in. But this was far more colorful than any part of Boston— a kaleidoscope of imperial yellow, rich red, and glittering gold leaf. Everything screamed wealth and luxury beyond imagination. Yet despite the size of the place, Dan couldn't escape a shut-in feeling— the four massive outer gates, the high walls, the observation towers at the corners. He tried to picture Puyi— the kid emperor from the movie— having all this as his personal playground. According to the tour guide, Puyi had officially abdicated at age six, but the Chinese government let him stay here until he was a young man. Using the Gate of Heavenly Peace as a point of reference, Dan got his bearings and headed for the