The Medusa Curse

by Gabrielle Lord

  ‘You heard what Mum said; it’s not her area of expertise. Best we can do is look through her reference books and find similar images.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ cried Jazz.

  ‘What?’ retorted Phoenix. ‘You’re the one who’s always quoting books back at me. I thought this would be your style of investigating.’

  ‘Do I need to keep reminding you we’re rapidly counting down the first 48 HOURS?’ demanded Jazz. ‘We don’t have time to leaf through page after page comparing microscopic images.’ She shook her head. ‘I should have known this would happen. Why don’t you try admitting sometimes that you don’t know everything?’

  Phoenix frowned. He looked ready to argue the point further when suddenly his face cleared and he laughed. ‘You know what? You’re right! I may not know about soil samples, but I do know someone who does.’ He reached for his phone.

  ‘Who are you calling?’

  ‘Mike.’

  ‘Belinski? From our science class?’

  ‘The very same. He lives round the corner.’

  ‘And he knows about soil samples?’

  ‘Yep, his grandparents have a farm outside the city. His final project last year was on soil sampling. It was so good that the head teacher wants to accelerate him through senior bio. Also . . .’ Phoenix flicked back his fringe and gave a disarming grin, ‘. . . he likes you. If you ask him for a favour, he’ll do it for sure.’

  He handed Jazz the phone as it began to ring. Shocked, she was about hang up when Mike answered.

  ‘Phoenix?’ he said.

  ‘Um, no, it’s Jazz. From science class.’ She felt a bit stupid.

  ‘Jazz? Hi! Why are you calling me on Phoenix’s phone?’ Suddenly his tone turned wary. ‘I hope this isn’t some kind of dare . . .’

  ‘What? No. We, um, we’re working on an . . . extracurricular project together. Phoenix said you knew a lot about analysing soil samples.’ She glanced at Phoenix who had a smug look on his face as he eavesdropped on the conversation. Annoyed, she grabbed some sterile tubes from a drawer and shoved them into his hands, pointing to the soil on the table. Still grinning with the same smug expression, he began to bag up the samples.

  Jazz switched her attention back to her phone. ‘Mike, you still there? Sorry. Look, we need a favour. Could you analyse some samples for us?’

  ‘Sure, I can do that! Want to meet up before class on Monday? You could give them to me then,’ he said, a little more enthusiastically than Jazz had expected.

  ‘Actually,’ Jazz said, embarrassed, ‘we kind of need your help today. Have you got time?’

  ‘What, to come to your place?’ Mike asked, sounding keen.

  ‘No, um, we’ll drop the samples round to you this afternoon. Can we meet tomorrow morning after you’ve looked at them?’

  ‘Sounds great!’

  ‘OK, see you then.’ She hung up.

  Meanwhile, Phoenix had placed samples of the soil into different tubes and was now labelling them. On the first he wrote:

  ‘Right, I’ll run these over to Mike’s. Want to come with me? He’ll be disappointed if you don’t,’ Phoenix teased.

  Jazz checked her watch. ‘Let him be disappointed. We’ve only got just over twenty-four hours left to find Dr Zhang, get Sapphire back and solve this case. I’ll clean up in here and call Mack to see if she’s heard anything while I wait for you.’

  28:21

  When Phoenix got back, Jazz was in the living room, checking the news on her phone.

  ‘Find anything?’ he asked from the kitchen, grabbing some soft drinks from the fridge. He sat down on the couch next to Jazz and put a can in front of her, taking a swig from his own.

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied. ‘I tried calling Mack, but the police were back at her place so she couldn’t talk. She texted me a link though. Take a look.’

  She handed him her phone. It showed an article on the state police news site about a burnt-out stolen car that had been found in an abandoned lot. They were asking anyone with information to come forward.

  Phoenix was confused. ‘Creepy. But what’s it got to do with Zhang?’

  ‘It doesn’t say on the site, but Mack’s text said Detective Sheppard thinks it could be the car that rammed the museum,’ she explained. ‘Also, I did a map search and the suburb where the car was found is just near Balfour Park.’

  ‘The suburb from the address on the ledger rubbing?’

  ‘That’s right. Think we should check it out? We’d need a lift there though.’

  ‘Yeah . . . maybe we could go and see Simon at the gym. He finishes work soon. He’d probably drive us,’ Phoenix said, checking the news feed on his phone. He selected a clip of a current affairs report about the museum raid. ‘This is interesting,’ he said, showing Jazz.

  The host was in the studio, interviewing guests via video link. ‘We’re joined now by Toby Grimshaw, whose father Sir Robert Grimshaw was gravely injured in a daring robbery last night,’ he said, turning to face a TV monitor. On screen was the face of Toby Grimshaw. Jazz recognised him from a celebrity blog that Anika followed. He had dark blotches under his eyes but the rest of his look matched the millionaire image—his hair was immaculately cut and styled. He wore a business shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, and a tattoo crept up his neck towards a fat diamond stud.

  ‘So that’s the guy who was meant to help us set up the exhibition,’ said Phoenix. ‘He looks like he hasn’t slept all night.’

  ‘That’s not surprising, after what happened to his father,’ said Jazz.

  ‘. . . a most dreadful accident,’ Toby Grimshaw was saying. ‘And to happen just moments after he called me last night, sounding like his usual, jolly self . . . it’s unbelievable.’

  ‘What? His “usual jolly self”? That’s a total lie!’ cried Jazz, eyes wide.

  ‘We heard that call!’ said Phoenix. ‘Sir Robert was furious. I wish I could remember what he said.’

  Jazz closed her eyes. A criminal investigation podcast she listened to had recently run a program on a technique for recalling audio memories. She’d been practising with Mack who thought it would be good for exams. Now Jazz tried on her own. First, she visualised the way Sir Robert had looked when he talked about his son. Then she relaxed and let the events fast-forward in order from there, as if in a movie. When she got to the part where Sir Robert had stared at the Medusa and ordered her and Phoenix to find Dr Zhang, she imagined herself standing next to him as he spoke on the phone rather than walking out to the lobby. Soon the conversation came back to her quite clearly.

  ‘He said, “I don’t care what you’re doing! Explain yourself immediately or you won’t get another cent out of me!”’ she recited.

  ‘Impressive,’ nodded Phoenix.

  ‘Toby Grimshaw is lying,’ Jazz said. ‘And I really want to know why.’

  27:59

  ‘First,’ said Phoenix, ‘let’s find out where Toby Grimshaw lives.’

  ‘How do you plan on doing that?’

  ‘He’s all over social media, and look, most of his posts are geotagged as Harbourside. That narrows it down.’ Phoenix scrolled through Toby’s Instagram posts. ‘Bingo,’ he said triumphantly, holding up his phone.

  It was an image of Toby standing in front of a slick high-rise building with the caption ‘Brand-new home sweet home! The penthouse is mine!!’

  ‘Look familiar?’ Phoenix asked.

  ‘Sure does,’ said Jazz, recognising it as a glamorous waterfront address.

  Seeing more evidence of Grimshaw’s lavish lifestyle on his Facebook page, Jazz mused, ‘There’s no sign here that he does anything other than spend money. How did he get the money to live at Harbourside?’

  Phoenix shrugged. ‘Toby Grimshaw has a very rich father who gives him money to live off.’

  ‘And he’s pretending that he’s close to his very rich father.’

  ‘Could he have some kind of grudge against his dad?’

  Jazz considered. ‘Maybe . . . but w
hat does he stand to gain by stealing Sapphire? If anything, that’s going to hurt his father. And if Sir Robert’s the one bankrolling this lifestyle, I don’t see how that will help.’

  ‘There’s a bus that goes from here to Harbourside. Let’s go. We can do more research on the way.’

  * * *

  ‘I reckon there’s plenty of stuff on Toby Grimshaw to dig up,’ commented Phoenix once they were settled on the bus. ‘He’s a bit too well known round town. Runs around with glamorous celebrities. You know, the classic spoiled rich kid who never grew up? Look at his Wikipedia entry. He’s started all these businesses that never seem to do any good. And you saw his photos—looks like he spends a lot of time at the casino.’

  ‘Does he win?’

  ‘I doubt it. But his penthouse apartment is practically next door. And apparently he spent tens of thousands of dollars redesigning his rooftop garden with rare trees and expensive water features.’

  Jazz whistled as she looked through some of his older Instagram posts. ‘He sure likes his travel,’ she commented. ‘Look at all the shots of him living it up in the south of France.’

  ‘Is that his girlfriend?’ asked Phoenix, pointing to a woman with a dark bob and square-cut fringe. ‘She’s in lots of his photos.’

  ‘I’ve only noticed her in the French ones,’ replied Jazz.

  A tag identified her as Camille Wolf-Ferrari. Jazz clicked through to her bio but found only the barest information.

  ‘Looks like she’s a bit more into online privacy than our buddy Toby,’ Phoenix commented.

  They jumped off the bus. It was a fine sunny day and seagulls hovered overhead on outspread wings, diving and squabbling over scattered chips. Waves slapped softly against the piers.

  At the eastern end of the boardwalk, expensive town houses and apartment blocks rose, gleaming against the blue sky. Nearby was the casino Neptune’s Chest, a tall building at the top of an imposing set of stairs. It dominated the landscape, red and gold neon shooting stars in an arch over the entrance fell into a huge neon treasure chest overflowing with coloured lights. Next to it, more imposing apartment blocks had been built behind well-kept lawns, and a line of palm trees rustled gently in the sea breeze.

  Jazz stared up at the tall apartment building just past the row of palms. Right at the top she could see more trees waving in the wind, part of a rooftop garden. ‘That must be Toby Grimshaw’s penthouse right at the top.’

  Jazz and Phoenix walked up to the grand marble pillars of the entrance, noticing the security doorbells on a panel to the right of the doorway. Beneath the panel, the building’s name was picked out in gold letters: Harbour Vista.

  ‘I guess this is Toby’s,’ said Phoenix, pointing to a button labelled PENTHOUSE. ‘What are we going to say when he answers?’

  Jazz fished in her pocket and pulled out the business card Sir Robert had given her. ‘It’s probably easiest to just say that we met Sir Robert yesterday and wanted to ask how he was.’ She pressed the button. ‘Besides, it’s true.’

  They waited, but it was clear that no-one was home or, if they were, they weren’t going to answer. Together, they walked around looking for a back entrance. But on the side of the building an elaborate wrought-iron security gate ensured that nobody could get through.

  ‘Now what?’ asked Jazz.

  A screech of braking tyres filled their ears, overtaken briefly by the sound of hip-hop music thumping out of speakers, as a glistening red sports car slammed to a stop in front of the side gate. Its engine gave a last guttural roar before cutting out.

  A door opened upwards, like a bird stretching its wing. The driver stepped out and removed his sunglasses—Toby Grimshaw!

  ‘Hey,’ he called, pointing to Phoenix. ‘You security?’ Phoenix looked down and realised he was wearing a T-shirt he’d bought from a music festival. It was all black with the word SECURITY printed on it.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ he replied.

  ‘Watch this baby. I’ll be back in five.’ He walked away, turning to go into the casino.

  ‘Sure.’ Phoenix walked over to the car, ready to admire its sleek lines and regale Jazz with a lengthy description of horse power and torque.

  ‘Red sports car!’ said Jazz.

  ‘Yes, I can see that, Jazz. Is that the extent of your luxury car knowledge?’

  ‘Very funny, but no. Remember what Maureen told us? This could be the car she saw Dr Zhang getting into. And look,’ she added. ‘See there?’

  The corner of a shiny, brand-new laptop was just visible, sticking out from under the front passenger seat.

  ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ asked Phoenix, with a sly smile.

  ‘I’m thinking he said he’d be back in five minutes,’ Jazz replied.

  ‘And then he headed to the casino! I reckon we’ve got at least half an hour. Here, hold this.’

  Phoenix grabbed a USB out of his backpack then shoved the bag at Jazz before diving into the sportscar.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she hissed. ‘What if someone sees you?’

  ‘It’ll be fine. I’m just going to copy all his files onto here. We’ll be able to see who he’s been emailing and find out about his business dealings.’

  He pulled the laptop out from its unsuccessful hiding place and stuck the USB into the slot. ‘Happily the latest version of my white-hat app is on here. So unless Toby’s system’s more secure than the one at school, the app should be able to work out his password too. Keystroke analysis.’

  Jazz raised an eyebrow. ‘Explain to me again how your hacking is any different to someone like Delgado?’

  ‘I told you, he’s a black hat—a cracker. I’m one of the good guys, a white hat.’

  ‘Seems to me, you’re more of a grey hat,’ Jazz teased.

  Phoenix ignored her as he activated his program. Then he raised his right fist in a triumphant gesture. ‘Ha!’ he said. ‘Guess what his password is?’

  ‘1234? TobyG? Winner?’ Jazz suggested.

  ‘Neptune! The name of the casino!’

  Phoenix is way too pleased with himself, Jazz thought. She scanned the area. After a few minutes she began to worry about the time it seemed to be taking to copy the files.

  Phoenix noticed Jazz frowning. ‘It won’t take too much longer,’ he reassured her.

  ‘When you say “too much longer” how long do you actually mean?’ asked Jazz. ‘If Toby Grimshaw comes back while you’re hacking his laptop, things could get nasty.’ Another thought occurred to her. ‘Is he going to be able to tell you’ve been on there?’

  ‘He’ll never know a thing.’

  ‘Unless he catches us . . . Ah, Phoenix, you’d better hurry up.’

  ‘I’m only at eight per cent.’

  ‘I don’t care, he’s coming back.’

  ‘Couple more minutes.’

  ‘Phoenix, I mean it. You need to get out NOW. Just grab what you’ve got and let’s go.’

  ‘If I pull the stick out now I’ll corrupt the whole thing!’

  ‘He’s walking over.’

  ‘Stall him!’

  Jazz thought quickly. She grabbed her tablet and held it in front of her like a clipboard. She smiled brightly and intercepted Toby Grimshaw on the footpath.

  ‘Hi there, sir! Would you have a moment to talk about the environment?’ Grimshaw looked determinedly down at the ground. He obviously planned to ignore her and walk straight back to the car.

  ‘Our campaign has great social media exposure. Care to show your support for the cause with a few photos that I can share on our feed?’

  At that, Grimshaw stopped and turned back to Jazz. ‘What campaign did you say that was?’

  ‘Uh, Save the Animals. We have, like, two million followers. I’d be happy to tag you and any business interests.’ When he nodded his assent, she pointed to the other side of the building, away from the sports car. ‘Maybe stand there, against the wall? The light is better.’

  Jazz held up the tablet and waited as Grims
haw preened himself. She kept an eye on his sportscar in the background. Seeing Phoenix slink from the back seat and away from the car in a crouch, she quickly snapped a shot.

  ‘Thanks! I’ll upload that back at headquarters.’ She gave him another bright smile and started backing away. ‘Remember, Save the Animals!’ she called before turning to walk as quickly as she dared in the opposite direction.

  He gave a shake of his head, then strode back to the car. Phoenix stood there waiting, nonchalantly leaning against the door.

  ‘Nice wheels, sir,’ he said, moving aside.

  Grimshaw lowered himself into the driver’s seat then looked up at Phoenix, who still stood at the open door. ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ he asked.

  ‘No, sir,’ said Phoenix.

  Grimshaw shrugged and pulled the door shut, almost catching Phoenix’s foot. The engine roared to life and the car screamed away, leaving Phoenix spluttering in a cloud of exhaust.

  ‘Tell me you got it,’ said Jazz, running back to him now Grimshaw was gone.

  Phoenix turned, a grin splitting his face as he held up the USB stick. ‘Got the lot! Come on, I think we’re due for a workout!’

  26:28

  Schmick n Fit was run by Phoenix’s boxing coach and good mate, Simon. Simon’s blue eyes were always smiling and he was a man who didn’t feel the need to ask too many questions.

  ‘Phoenix!’ Simon cried, offering a high five and giving Jazz a friendly pat on the arm as the pair walked inside. ‘Good to see you, mate. I miss our daily sessions now you’re not suspended.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Phoenix. ‘Trust me, double chemistry doesn’t get the blood pumping the same way.’

  ‘So, do you two want a ring to spar in?’ Simon joked.

  ‘We do enough of that in the lab,’ muttered Jazz under her breath.

  ‘Actually, we were just in the area and needed a quiet space to do some—ah, homework in,’ Phoenix explained.

  Simon raised an eyebrow. ‘Of course, where better than a noisy gym, huh?’

  ‘You’re just such a good motivator, Simon.’