The Medusa Curse

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The Medusa Curse Page 3

by Gabrielle Lord


  ‘We have to do something,’ said Jazz. ‘The first 48 HOURS after a crime are vital for gathering the freshest and most useful evidence to help solve it.’

  ‘Yes, but look at the place,’ Phoenix indicated the investigators already crawling all over the Velocity wing. ‘Our staff passes won’t help us get past police tape.’

  ‘We have to find a way. We need to help Sir Robert and Dr Zhang. If we locate Sapphire we could get the launch back on track!’

  ‘But how?’ Phoenix asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Jazz.

  The two of them sat, dejected, backs against the wall, contemplating the scene of destruction around them.

  ‘At least none of the other artefacts have been affected,’ Jazz said.

  ‘The way the mud’s tracked,’ Phoenix commented, ‘they must have driven up the grass from the road, smashed through the glass sideways and skidded to a halt on that rug. Smart. If they’d come in head-on, at full speed, they would have destroyed Sapphire as well as Medusa.’

  ‘Sir Robert’s lucky to be alive. All that marble falling on him . . .’ she trailed off, remembering.

  ‘Medusa wasn’t as heavy as she looked. Gustav and I didn’t have any trouble moving that bit on his legs,’ Phoenix remarked. ‘I reckon the car had already broken Medusa into pieces when that big chunk knocked Sir Robert to the ground. It was probably the floor that knocked him out. I hope the blood around his head was just from the shards of glass he fell on.’

  Jazz noticed the police looking over at them and motioned for Phoenix to lean in.

  ‘They’re going to ask us questions,’ said Jazz. ‘Why do I feel so nervous?’

  ‘We didn’t do anything wrong,’ Phoenix replied.

  ‘What about the phone calls we heard?’ asked Jazz. ‘Dr Zhang was under some kind of pressure. And it sounded like Sir Robert was pretty mad at him too.’

  Phoenix indicated the scene—Sir Robert on the stretcher, the security guards answering questions, police officers taking photographs and making notes, the smashed remnants of Medusa. ‘Do you think Dr Zhang was somehow involved in this?’

  ‘No!’ said Jazz sharply. ‘But we should mention the phone calls.’

  ‘My advice? Don’t bring them up. You’ll just get your friend’s dad in trouble. The calls probably had nothing to do with any of this.’

  Jazz looked pained. ‘I can’t lie to the police.’

  ‘You won’t have to. Do you think they’re going to ask, “And did you happen to overhear any worrying conversations between the museum director and an unknown party?”’

  ‘No,’ admitted Jazz.

  ‘Just stick with the crime scene,’ said Phoenix as two officers came their way. ‘What you saw and didn’t see. If they do ask about Dr Zhang, we can just tell them that he seemed a bit stressed out. That’s no lie.’

  Jazz stood up as a slim police officer approached, her fair hair pulled back in a French roll.

  ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Jan Sheppard. You two were the first on the scene?’ Her voice was as crisp as her white shirt and navy suit.

  ‘Yes,’ Jazz said, as confidently as she dared. ‘We’ve been helping to set up for the exhibition opening.’

  ‘Where were you at the time of the crash?’

  Jazz and Phoenix told her about meeting Sir Robert and seeing his shocked reaction to the Medusa statue.

  ‘He got angry all of a sudden. He sent us to find Dr Zhang,’ Jazz said.

  Detective Sheppard nodded and made a note. ‘Did you find him? Dr Zhang, I mean.’

  Phoenix shook his head.

  ‘We’d seen him earlier,’ Jazz explained after a short pause. ‘He seemed worried about something. He told us he had to go.’

  ‘Do you know where?’ she asked, not looking up from her writing.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you touch anything, move anything when you came back here and saw what had happened?’

  Phoenix looked a bit guilty. ‘I slipped on the footprints and tyre tracks in the mud. I, ah, probably messed them up . . . sorry.’

  ‘That’s OK; it’s good that you let me know.’ She smiled reassuringly and took down their details. ‘I recognise your names. You two were involved in a kidnapping case back in March, right?’

  ‘Yes, my friend Anika was kidnapped,’ Jazz explained. ‘We found her.’

  ‘Well done. But don’t go looking for trouble this time, alright?’ Her face was serious. ‘The best way for you to help out is by coming down to the station tomorrow morning to sign witness statements and answer any more questions we may have.’

  They nodded their agreement, glad the interview was over.

  ‘Now, do you have some way to get home?’ Detective Sheppard asked.

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ said Phoenix. ‘Mum’s out tonight and Dad doesn’t do unscheduled pick-ups.’ Phoenix’s fraught relationship with his father hadn’t yet recovered from when he’d been suspended for hacking the school’s servers.

  Jazz turned to Phoenix. ‘Mum’s due to pick me up any minute now. We can drop you home.’

  Detective Sheppard nodded. ‘Good. After tonight’s events I know it might be hard, but try and get some rest and then we’ll talk in the morning, OK?’

  Jazz and Phoenix quickly gathered their things and made their way to the museum’s main entrance. Outside, a rabble of journalists fought to get a picture of Sir Robert being loaded into an ambulance. Another detective stood in front of the cameras making a statement.

  ‘. . . We don’t currently know the extent of his injuries, but Sir Robert will receive the best of care in a private location. A police guard will be in attendance around the clock in case the attackers make another attempt to harm him. We have no further comment.’

  The cameras turned to the doors to the museum as Jazz and Phoenix walked out. Suddenly they were bombarded with questions.

  ‘What were you doing at the museum?’

  ‘Did you see the raid?’

  ‘What has happened to Sapphire?’

  The two of them ducked their heads and hustled their way through the throng to where Jazz’s mum waited in the car. Once inside, a welcome quiet descended upon them.

  But Jazz didn’t feel quiet. She felt worried. They had no plan and already there was less than 48 HOURS to gather evidence to lead them to Sapphire and get the exhibition launch back on track. Failure to do so meant catastrophe for the Knowledge Institute and for Mack’s family.

  46:39

  Mrs Mandell was horrified to hear how close Jazz had been to the whole incident. Jazz’s mother was so upset that she drove straight home, forgetting to drop off Phoenix. As she did a U-turn to head back to his house, a dark vehicle accelerated and zoomed past, narrowly missing them.

  ‘I’ve had enough near misses with cars tonight,’ said Jazz grimly.

  Once they arrived at Phoenix’s, Mrs Mandell looked at the dark windows and turned to him with concern. ‘Is anyone home? I don’t feel right just dropping you off to an empty house.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Mrs Mandell,’ Phoenix replied stoically. ‘I’m used to taking care of myself.’ With that he hauled himself out of the car and lumbered up the front path. Jazz was surprised that, in truth, he did seem a bit upset.

  Back at her own house, Jazz found her older brother Tim in the kitchen, watching the news on his tablet. ‘You’re a star, sis,’ he said, showing Jazz the footage of her and Phoenix leaving the museum.

  ‘Can I get you something to eat?’ asked her mother.

  ‘We’d just had fish and chips before it all . . . happened,’ Jazz said, finding herself strangely short for words.

  Her mum looked at her with concern. ‘I’m making you some cocoa. You’ve had quite a shock. First Anika’s kidnapping, and now this.’ She dumped cocoa and sugar into a mug. ‘It’s hard not to panic every time you walk out the door!’

  Her mother was trying to make light of the situation, but Jazz could see the genuine concern etched on her face. She ga
ve what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘I’m OK, Mum, really. It was all a big shock, I admit, but what I’m really worried about is the Zhangs.’

  ‘It’s no secret that the museum was struggling,’ Mrs Mandell shook her head as she handed Jazz the steaming drink. ‘This robbery certainly isn’t going to help matters! Promise me that you won’t investigate this, Jazmine. Let the police do their job and stay out of it this time. This break-in is a serious crime. Promise me?’

  Jazz gave a tiny nod and sipped the cocoa. Her mother had only referred directly to the break-in. It was the exhibition and the future of the museum that Jazz was determined to rescue. Avoiding having to make a more direct reply, she collected her mug and stood up from the table. ‘Thanks for the cocoa, Mum. I’ll take it upstairs.’

  Jazz could feel her mother’s eyes on her back as she left the kitchen and headed to her room. Once there, she closed the bedroom door and sent Mack a text.

  * * *

  Jazz got ready for bed while she waited. After almost an hour, she started to wonder if Mack had forgotten. But then her phone buzzed.

  ‘Mack!’

  ‘Hi, Jazz. Sorry, the police left a little while ago, but I had to put Cooper to bed.’

  ‘What about your dad?’ Jazz asked. ‘Isn’t he there?’

  ‘He never came home,’ Mack said. ‘We have no idea where he is.’

  ‘He didn’t call your mum?’

  ‘No. Did you see him at the museum?’

  ‘Phoenix and I ran into him coming out of his office,’ Jazz said carefully. ‘He looked worried, but he was OK.’

  ‘The police seem to think he had something to do with the robbery.’ Mack sounded miserable.

  ‘What? No way!’

  ‘I know,’ Mack said. ‘But they talked about him like he was some kind of criminal on the run.’

  Both girls were silent for a moment. Jazz couldn’t believe that the police suspected Dr Zhang. The museum meant everything to him.

  ‘When did you see Dad?’ Mack asked. ‘Could you prove he was somewhere else when Sapphire was taken?’

  ‘To give him an alibi? I don’t think we can. We only saw him a while before the robbery. We were trying to find him again when it happened. I’m sorry, Mack.’

  ‘Th-that’s OK.’

  Jazz’s heart went out to her friend. ‘Mack, you know how Phoenix and I found Anika when she went missing? Well, if your dad doesn’t turn up by morning, maybe we could try and find him, too.’

  Mack didn’t answer right away, and when she did, she sounded uncertain. ‘Jazz, I don’t know . . .’

  Jazz flushed and tried to backtrack, ‘I mean, only if you want us to, and we wouldn’t interfere with the police investigation. I’d call Detective Sheppard right away if we found any—’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Mack said. ‘I’d love your help. Dad’s missing and Mum’s sick. I have no-one else I can count on.’ She paused, and it sounded like she was trying not to cry. ‘I just don’t want you to be in any danger. You and Phoenix almost got killed trying to find Anika.’

  ‘Oh, Mack.’ Jazz felt a rush of affection. ‘I promise, we’ll be really careful. We’ll leave anything dangerous to the police, we’ll tell them everything.’

  ‘No,’ Mack said with unexpected force. ‘That detective thinks Dad is guilty. I don’t trust her. Please, just promise that you’ll come to me with whatever you find, and then I’ll decide when we go to the police for help. Deal?’

  ‘Deal,’ Jazz said, smiling.

  There was a knock on her bedroom door. ‘Jazz, are you on the phone?’ It was her mum. ‘Don’t stay up too late, we need to be at the police station early tomorrow.’

  ‘OK!’ she called out. ‘I’m just hanging up now.’

  ‘You gotta go?’ said Mack.

  ‘Yeah, sorry. Look, I’ll talk to Phoenix tomorrow and see what we can do.’

  Jazz ended the call and climbed into bed, but her mind was racing. In the first 48 HOURS, every second counted.

  She switched on her tablet and opened up CrimeSeen, the investigating app she used for all her cases. She found her fingers hovering over the screen. What to add? She had frustratingly little to work with, but that didn’t stop the clock ticking in her head.

  Then Jazz remembered the photos she’d snapped at the scene. She uploaded them to the app and opened up one of the images. Twisting her tablet this way and that, she tried to examine the red and orange fragments from different angles, but couldn’t tell what they might once have been.

  She began a fresh note for Sapphire. Online, nearly every tech blog had a post that raved about its brilliance. Many experts believed that Sapphire’s unique operating system would allow it to track black-market activity on the darknet, allowing police to pinpoint the real-world location of unscrupulous dealers in real time. That would put a lot of criminals out of business, Jazz thought, from hackers selling illegally-sourced information to collectors buying stolen art. She made a note of this in CrimeSeen as a possible motive for Sapphire’s theft.

  Moving on to the Grimshaw Medusa, Jazz found source after source blaming the statue for some catastrophe or other ever since it was unearthed more than two hundred years ago. None of it served to soothe the anxiety that coursed through her veins, fuelling her desire to do whatever she could to help her friend and solve the crime. But after scouring dozens of sites, the shock of the evening eventually caught up with her and she drifted into a fitful sleep.

  * * *

  Phoenix was also up late. He sat on his bed, face illuminated by his phone screen as he flicked through news stories about the robbery. Commentators expressing shock about Sir Robert’s injury praised the man as an innovator and game-changer, someone who could revolutionise computing and make hacking something that benefited the community.

  Trawling through older posts, he found some questioning whether or not Sapphire would actually work. ‘Too much new technology’, said one, and ‘the crystal would melt’, claimed another. Several blogs linked to a rare interview with Pablo Delgado. He was notorious for being aloof and curt with the media. But in this particular interview he seemed more open than usual. He claimed to be one of the few brave enough to speak out against Sir Robert, saying he was building Sapphire for selfish reasons. He even accused Sir Robert of wanting to use Sapphire to launch cyberattacks and blackmail governments and corporations.

  Phoenix didn’t believe a word of it. ‘As if,’ he muttered.

  He put his phone down with a sigh and went over to his window to close the curtains. Someone in a van was parked directly opposite his house. They leaned across from the driver’s seat and seemed to look up at him—Phoenix could just make out the pale shape of a face, but no details.

  Seconds later, the vehicle was pulling away from the kerb. Phoenix stared after it. Was it a coincidence that the car had driven away just as he spotted it?

  Then he remembered Anika pointing out the van that had been parked outside the museum that evening. Could this be the same one?

  He turned away from the window. You’re just tired, he told himself, your imagination is playing tricks on you.

  34:30

  First thing the next morning, Jazz and Phoenix fronted up to the police station.

  Jazz was surprised to see Mr Lyons step out of the car. Although Jazz worked part-time with Phoenix’s forensic scientist mother, she’d never met his father.

  Phoenix made the introductions. Mrs Mandell shook his father’s hand. ‘This isn’t much of a way to spend a weekend morning, is it?’ she asked brightly.

  ‘Let’s just get inside and get this over with.’ He strode off, leaving Phoenix rolling his eyes.

  Inside the police station the pairs split up, Jazz and her mother going with one officer and Phoenix and his father with another.

  Phoenix sat with his father in a sparsely furnished interview room. In front of him on the table was the short witness statement he’d already written while waiting for Detective Sheppard. He was aware of
the police video camera set up in a corner, recording the interview. Now, he was explaining to the detective yet again what they’d seen the night before.

  ‘And you say you heard the crash and came running into the room after that?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘But you didn’t see a vehicle?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘We’ve discovered that the external security cameras were disabled. Can you tell me anything about that?’

  ‘No.’ Phoenix frowned. ‘Although we noticed that the monitors weren’t working inside the security office.’

  ‘You had access to the security desk. You said there was no-one there immediately before the raid.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Phoenix slowly, wondering where the detective was going with this. Last night she’d been cool. Now she seemed almost angry.

  ‘See, I’ve got a problem, Phoenix. You say neither of you were there at the time of the crash because you’d left the room. But we only have your word for that. The security cameras were switched off. You were the last person to speak with Sir Robert before a car came crashing through the glass and knocked him out. The thieves do a smash grab on the Sapphire exhibit before driving away. Yet you say you didn’t see anything?’

  ‘That’s right!’ he said again, more forcefully this time.

  ‘Are you sure you’re telling us everything?’

  Phoenix felt a pang of guilt at not mentioning Dr Zhang and the strange phone call they’d overheard outside his office. His thoughts were interrupted by his father.

  ‘Really, Detective Sheppard, are you suggesting that my son had something to do with this crime? Or that he has perverted the course of justice in some way? Because if you are, I’ll certainly be talking to my lawyers.’

  Phoenix wished his father would just keep out of it. ‘It’s OK, Dad. I’m telling the truth.’

  ‘No, it is not OK. Detective, what you’re insinuating is absurd. I’m taking my son home.’

 

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