Read Online The Night Tourist by Katherine Marsh - Free Book Online Page A

almost as soon as they get here. For others it takes a long time. They’re waiting.”
    “For what?”
    “An answer that allows them to move on, or . . .” Euri’s voice drifted off. “Look,” she said, “there’s Professor Schmitt.” She pointed to the farthest table in the room, where a white-haired ghost hovered just above his chair, tracing the lines of a book with his finger. “He knows eight languages,” she said in a voice as reverential as Jack had heard her use.
    As they floated down to the table, he noticed that Professor Schmitt’s spine was bent. “He’s a hunchback,” Euri whispered. “If Elysium is fair, he’ll be six feet tall.”
    “What did you say he taught when he was alive?”
    “Classics, I think.”
    A fellow Classics scholar—certainly Professor Schmitt would help him find his mother. But before Jack could say anything, Euri flew over to the old man and touched him gently on his deformed back. “Professor Schmitt?”
    The professor looked up from his book. His neck was long and gave him the appearance of a turtle poking out of its shell. “Euri, my dear! The most beautiful girl in the underworld. Voulez-vous parler en français ?”
    “ Non, merci, professeur. I want to introduce you to someone. Mon ami Jack.”
    The professor shifted so that he was facing Jack. His pale gray eyes studied Jack’s for several seconds. “Euri, how did you meet this young man?” he finally asked.
    “Oh, I just met him after he got off the Circle Line. He died this morning. . . .”
    “I’m a, was a, Latin scholar,” Jack added, trying to change the subject. “I was translating the Metamorphoses before I died. But tempus edax rerum . Time devours all things,” he said, translating the phrase for Euri.
    “Omnia tempus revelat,” said Professor Schmitt.
    Time reveals all things. Did the professor know he was alive?
    But the old man smiled kindly and patted the seats next to him. “Euri, as you might guess from her name, is a great fan of the Orpheus myth,” he said. “We read it together in French a few years ago. What can I help you children with?”
    Jack pulled the Viele map out of his backpack and handed it to him.
    “We’re trying to find Jack’s mother—if she hasn’t moved on yet,” Euri explained. “Just before Jack died he found this map of the underworld rivers with her name on it. We think it’s a clue. We’re hoping you can tell us something about it.”
    Professor Schmitt opened the map and flattened it out. “Aha,” he said. “This wasn’t meant to be a map of the underworld rivers, Euri. It’s Mr. Viele’s water map.” He traced the green streams with his finger and then coughed gently as if beginning a lecture. “In my century, the city of New York was growing at a fast rate. There wasn’t enough fresh water in those days, and the drinking water was often polluted and carried diseases like cholera and malaria. Viele was an engineer. He felt that builders needed to be more responsible where they built, so as to not contaminate the water supply. So he studied all the maps and drawings ever made of Manhattan, and from them he constructed this master map showing all the streams and rivers that ever existed on the island—both those above the surface and those underground. It’s the only map showing Manhattan as it was when only Indians lived here, when it was just hills, marshes, and trout streams.”
    “What would a living person use it for today?” asked Jack.
    “I’ve been told by newer ghosts that builders still use the Viele map to decide where to put down foundations for new buildings, to check whether they’ll be prone to flooding. So a lot of people probably have this map. I’m not sure what it can tell you about your mother.”
    Euri looked disappointed. “So there’s nothing unusual about it?”
    Professor Schmitt looked around him and then lowered his voice. “Well, there is something I’ve heard.”
    “What?” Euri and Jack whispered