The Maltese Manuscript (LSD, #6)

13. The Illustrated Man

The Illustrated Man

Caution is a good teacher. A cap and a leather jacket hide my curiosity when I peek inside the tattoo shop, walking along on the other side of the street, where I enter a bakery, to buy bread and biscuits before returning to the place where I left Malik: "The lights are on, but the shop is empty. There's a door at the back, ajar. I suspect the entrance door has one of those bells to announce someone's entry. I hope I can handle that. We must enter without making any noise. Surprise is our main weapon here."

Malik nods and follows me to the door of the shop, but stays out of sight to watch my back and the deserted street. At breakfast, I told him I'd found Khalid El Bullít's secret identity. It surprised him, but for me, it was obvious. Khalid has a problem with book people. Why? Malala gave us the clue in Lin-Kin Park: Khalid can't read or he is word blind. He communicates with images, drawings, and emoticons. Like old Egyptians and modern Whassappers, Khalid writes with simple pictures. His perfect cover is... a tattoo shop. There's only one tattoo shop on Malta: it has to be his.

Doorbells come in two types: the electronic ding-dong, and the mechanical cling-cling. The best tactics are to bet on the mechanical version. If we're right, or if there is no bell at all, we can get inside without making a noise, and if we're wrong, there will be time enough to walk away and see if someone enters the shop or not.

I take a stiletto out of the inside pocket of my jacket, slip the blade between the upper right corner of the door and the frame, move it up, and feel the resistance of the mechanism that rings the bell. With my left hand, I keep the blade in place. With my right hand, I open the door. No sound.

"Malik. Go inside. Quickly.", I whisper.

My thumb takes over from the blade, so I can enter and, carefully, close the door behind me. It worked. We're inside. I switch the «open» sign on the door to «closed», switch the knife for the Beretta, make the gestures «hush» and «over there» to Malik, and tiptoe to the door at the back. Behind the door, there's a stairway, leading down to a cellar, to the atelier where the tattoo artist works his needles and pins. The steps of the stairs are concrete with tiles (no danger of cracks, foretelling our entrance), but the stairs go down; anyone in the cellar can see the feet of anyone coming in, while I can't see where I'm going to, or who might be waiting for me.

I open the door a bit more, slowly, without a sound, and lower my spiPhone with the video recorder running. The basement is empty except for one man. He's working at something that lies on a workbench at the back wall, concentrating on the job, not aware I'm looking at his back. Silent as a silken silhouette, I sneak down the stairs, my pistol pointed at the man's back. With my other hand, I sign Malik to follow me.

The man at the workbench is unquestionable the owner of the tattoo shop: every part of his flesh is covered with cartoons: the back of his neck, his arms and his legs, all visible thanks to the white Bermuda shorts and short-sleeved T-shirt he's wearing.

"Khalid El Bullít, the checkmate King of crime. Finally, we meet. We're running out of time.", I say. It sounds like a lyric from a blues song.

Khalid freezes. He didn't hear us coming. He didn't expect us. Surprise is a powerful weapon. The sharp click of the cock of my gun makes Khalid also aware of our other powerful weapon.

"Put your hands in the air, please, and turn around, so we can properly present ourselves.", I say.

Khalid raises his hands and turns around. He's awful. His entire face, including his lips and eyelids, the inside of his hands, even his tongue is decorated with colourful tattoos. His grin is one of genuine pleasure when he recognises Malik: "My dear poet. I have been looking for you. They told me it was a mistake to take your manuscript and let you live. HA! They said you could write the story again, perhaps even better. HA, HA, HA! It would have been better if I'd killed you right away, but I'm happy you come here to give me a second chance. Is it okay if I strangle you? My guns and my knives are all upstairs in the shop. All I have here are a few needles, as you see."