Holly opens the bathroom cabinet and makes a sound I’ve never heard from her before: part sob, part suppressed-squeal, and part little-bit-of-sick-coming-into-mouth.
“What?” I move closer. “Have you found the Space Rock?”
Holly shakes her head and points at the back of the cabinet door. I follow the direction of her finger and squeak when I realise that the white plastic casing is covered with a photo montage of Dad!
Pictures of Dad deep in thought; snaps of Dad poring over his inventions; screen grabs of Dad on the various TV shows he used to appear on. Some of the pictures look really old. In the centre of the display is a shot of two students outside a university building in Oxford.
“Ramanujan! Is that Dad on the right?”
“Yup,” Holly says absently, staring in horror at the girl on the left. A strange-looking girl with lopsided features, bulgy eyes and a tiny angry, just-sat-on-a-wasp mouth.
“No!” I peer closer. “It can’t be . . . ?”
Holly nods miserably. “Ms Grimm!”
“I remember her telling me they were at university together, but I didn’t know they knew each other. Urgh! The Grimm Reaper has a shrine to Dad in her bathroom cabinet. This is too freaky.”
Holly puts her finger to her lips and points towards the door as footsteps approach.
Will this never end?
I slide under the bed, staring at the dangling turquoise duvet. Where’s Holly? Do the footsteps I can hear belong to her or to the Voices? It’s impossible to tell above the thudding of my heart.
“Don’t forget to check under the beds,” Deep Voice shouts from the landing.
Great. Now where? Apart from the bin, the bed, the drawers and the wardrobe, the room is bare. I’m not trapping myself in the wardrobe. No way . . . Wait! There are glass doors. Key in the lock. Must lead somewhere. To a balcony? Maybe the Voices won’t go out on to the balcony. Especially if I lock it behind me.
Keeping low, I crawl over to the doors and reach up to turn the key in the lock. But my hands are shaking and the key won’t budge. The footsteps cross the landing. I’m taking too long. At the last minute, the key turns and I squeeze through the small gap, just as the door creaks open in the next room along.
As I try to lock the door behind me, something brushes past me and a hand presses over my mouth, muffling the sound of my scream.
“Shh! It’s me,” Holly whispers in my ear. “Quick, give me the key, I’ll lock it.”
“Archimedes! Holly!” I hiss when she removes her hand. “What are you? Some kind of cat burglar?”
She looks like she’s about to smother me again, so I add quickly, “I mean like a skilled thief, not a pet-stealing nutter.”
“I know what a cat burglar is,” Holly hisses. “I just thought if I ignored you then you might stop babbling. Now, give me the key. Your fingers are shaking.”
I drop the key into Holly’s hands-of-steel. She locks the door and pulls me back into the shadows as we attempt to shrink into the smallest space possible. The light flicks on in the bedroom. Moments later, the balcony door rattles. We have no cover; if they come out here, it’s over. I close my eyes and sink down into a squatting position, hugging my knees.
“Locked.” Deep Voice carries through the glass.
I shift my arms so they’re covering my ears. I don’t know how long I stay like that, but I don’t hear anything more until Holly pulls my elbows down and murmurs, “They’ve gone.”
I blink, reminding myself to breathe. “I can’t take any more of this. There’s no way I’m going back inside that house.”
“How else are you planning to get off the balcony? Parachute?”
I glance down, wishing I had a parachute and that was an option.
Holly points to the couple coming out of the front door. Deep Voice is shorter than I expected, but that’s all I notice. My attention is on the car that’s just pulled up to the kerb. A distorted silhouette emerges and I can tell by Holly’s sharp intake of breath that she’s experiencing the same shock of recognition.
“Ms Grimm!” Holly squeaks “We have to confront her. I’m not hiding here in the shadows.”
“We’re not hiding,” I murmur. “We’re spying. You said it yourself, if we confront her about the brain ray then she’ll just lie. And she’ll know we’re on to her. We have to keep the upper hand.”
I’m impressed by how convincing that sounds. It even silences Holly – but probably not for long. My sister has two modes:
i) Attack mode
ii) Questioning why we’re not in ‘attack mode’ mode.
I need to move fast. Calmer now, I tell Holly to unlock the balcony doors, and by a combination of pushing and scuttling, I manoeuvre her through the bedroom, down the stairs and out the back window, just as the creak of the front door announces Ms Grimm’s entry.
23
Top Parenting Skills
We arrive home at two in the morning to find Porter lurking in the front garden, peering through the bay window.
My mouth curls up at the corners and my hands do a little happy dance. I’ve missed him. Holly’s expression is impossible to read – and not only because it’s dark.
She sneaks up behind him and hisses, “Lost your keys?”
He makes a shrill, high-pitched sound that helps me understand the meaning of the phrase ‘squealed like a pig’.
“What are you doing here?” Holly pulls on a bramble and lets it snap back, dangerously close to Porter’s head. “Trying to sneak in without us noticing?”
Porter ignores the bramble and rubs at the window pane. “I just spotted a smear on the glass.”
“It’s ridiculous o’clock in the morning and you’ve nipped round to clean the windows?” Holly sneers. “I thought you’d decided to leave us and move into your new family home.”
I shake my head. There were no traces of Porter in Ms Grimm’s new house. “Where have you been, Porter?”
“Out.”
“Out?” I repeat. “For three days?”
“I’ve been at LOSERS,” Porter admits, looking down at the lawn. “Even though they shut the boarding house after the explosion, some of the rooms have been cleaned up. Mr Kumar said I could stay for a few days during the holiday. I needed space to think.”
“You knew, didn’t you?” Holly challenges him. “You knew your mother was back.”
“She never went away,” Porter says. “She bought a new house with some of the money she made from LOSERS, but didn’t register it in her name, so no one knows where to find her.”
“7 Albion Road,” Holly and I say, simultaneously.
Porter’s mouth drops open. “How . . .? Never mind. Okay, no one except you two knows where to find her.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you’d seen her?” Holly asks.
“Because I haven’t.”
“Don’t lie.” Holly reaches for another bramble.
“I’m not lying.” Porter’s moves out of prickly branch zone. “I’ve been to her house – many times – especially since your dad said that thing about the museum volunteers. But she won’t let me in. She told me not to come back in case someone follows me.” His voice wobbles and he rubs his eyes angrily.
Holly and I stare at Porter in disbelief, causing him to flush an interesting shade of red. I picture the Dulux colour chart and decide he’s ‘Ruby Starlet’.
“She’s been working in the Science Museum,” Holly points out. “She can’t be that worried about being spotted.”
“Yeah, thanks. Making me feel loads better,” Porter mutters dejectedly.
“Maybe she’s wearing some kind of disguise.” Holly ignores Porter’s obvious misery – she’s not known for her empathy skills. “Did you get a chance to ask her about the Science Museum while she was telling you to go away?”
Porter nods. “She said she wasn’t there on the day of the school trip.”
“She lied,” I tell him, feeling bad when his face goes all crumply. “She’s on
the CCTV footage, just before the camera goes blank.”
“She must have done it for your dad,” Porter mutters. “She has a thing for him.”
I cringe, wishing I could delete the cabinet-shrine from my mind. Curse my photographic memory.
“Why do you always try and make excuses for her?” I ask Porter.
“Why do you always try and make excuses for him?” he retorts.
“Touché,” Holly says. “The fact is you’re both idiots, and you’re both far too easy to manipulate. We have to ask Dad what happened to the Space Rock.”
“We?”
“Yes. We’re a team.” She narrows her eyes at Porter. “Even you. So stop lurking about in the garden and come inside.”
“Being a team is good.” I smile at Porter, not wanting to spoil the moment. “But I was asking what you meant by ‘We have to ask Dad’?”
Holly kicks the hedge as a thorn on the bramble cuts into her thumb. “I meant that Porter was right about you always making excuses for Dad. So, I’m coming with you on the next visit.”
Ada Lovelace. This is going to get messy.
24
Visibly Invisible
Days Left to Save the Earth: 6
I secretly enjoy seeing Holly’s nervousness as we enter the prison. I stride in confidently to take my chair, this time at Table Six. Holly drops down beside me, then stands up, then sits back down and starts tapping a frantic rhythm with her foot. If she’d shown any interest in learning Morse code with me, I’d think she was beating out an SOS call.
Vigil-Aunty puts a hand on Holly’s leg and tells her to calm down. Holly puts a hand on Vigil-Aunty’s hand and tells her to go and stand by the vending machine because we want to speak to Dad privately. Vigil-Aunty blows air through her nose like a rhino preparing to attack, but grudgingly gets up and heads across to the other side of the room, just as Dad hobbles into the Visiting Hall.
Holly’s eyes widen in shock at the sight of him. I’m less disturbed because I’ve noticed something – well, two somethings – about his injuries:
• Although the bruises and the Rudolph nose are back, they’re not as bad as they were last time.
• While the Neanderthugs have stopped the smiles and the high-fives, they’re still giving Dad little nods.
CLUE 28
The Neanderthugs seem to be trying to teach Dad a lesson while keeping him on their side.
I put together a few clues and come up with my first theory:
(RECAP)
CLUE 10
Hell Raizah wants the moon (because, weirdly, he’s convinced it will make him stronger) and a piece of the moon has been stolen.
+
(RECAP)
CLUE 11
The Neanderthugs (were) being abnormally friendly to Dad.
+
(RECAP)
CLUE 28
The Neanderthugs seem to be trying to teach Dad a lesson while keeping him on their side.
=
THEORY A
DAD DOESN’T HAVE THE SPACE ROCK, BUT HE HAS CONVINCED THE NEANDERTHUGS HE CAN GET IT.
Holly is looking at Dad the way she usually gazes at Mum – as though she’s the parent and he’s the one who needs looking after. I try to see Dad through her eyes and decide the grey blanket wrapped around his shoulders is the main problem. It makes him look old and tired, particularly the way he has to hunch over to hold the ends together.
“Are you cold, Dad?” I ask. “Or is that a style choice?”
“This is my STEALTH BLANKET!” Dad declares so loudly the whole room turns to look, and Vigil-Aunty walks into the vending machine. “Good, eh?”
“Er, yeah . . . Lovely.”
Dad straightens up, no longer weary and wounded. “It’s my best invention to date.”
His characteristically smug tone wipes the sympathy from Holly’s face. “Congratulations,” she mocks. “You’ve invented the blanket.”
“The Stealth Blanket,” Dad corrects her. “In this blanket, I am invisible.”
We stare at him. I wonder how to break this to him gently.
Holly doesn’t do gentle. “We can see you, you stupid man.”
“Holly!” I hiss.
“You can?” Dad asks. “There must be some malfunction.”
“Argh!” Holly leaps to her feet. “Hasn’t being in here taught you anything, Dad? Don’t you feel any guilt about the brain rays? How can you still be as ridiculous as ever? The stolen Space Rock could blow up our brains at any minute and all you’re worried about is some dumb invention that doesn’t even work. I can’t stand it. I’m not going to sit here, waiting for my head to explode, listening to you waffling on about invisibility cloaks.”
“Stealth Blankets,” Dad corrects her.
“Whatever! I’m done. Know-All, are you coming?”
“No,” I say firmly. “We’re in the middle of an investigation. I came to talk to Dad and that’s what I’m going to do. If you can’t handle being near him, go and chat to Aunty Vera about Han Solo for half an hour.”
Holly is on the verge of sitting back down when Dad hands her his blanket. “Here, wear this. Being invisible might help you calm down.”
“OHMYGODDAD!” Holly shoves the blanket at him, muttering, “My dad is an idiot. My dad is an idiot,” over and over, like a mantra, as she storms over to the other side of the room and kicks the vending machine.
Vigil-Aunty grabs her by the shoulders and leans in to tell her off. Holly’s violent gestures in Dad’s direction suggest she’s defending herself by blaming everything on him. When she’s finished, Vigil-Aunty kicks the vending machine too.
“You wound Holly up on purpose!” I accuse Dad.
Dad grins.
I can’t help grinning back, remembering a time when it was me and Dad against the world. Or, more often, me and Dad against Mum and Holly because the rest of the world was busy.
But things have changed. I’m on Holly’s side now. I drop the smile, put my elbows on the table and stare at him. “I want to talk to you about the ‘clue’ you gave me. We know Ms Grimm was in the museum that day. Was she stealing the Space Rock for you?”
“I told you, I don’t have the rock,” Dad fiddles with his blanket.
“I know.”
Dad looks up sharply. “You do?”
“Yup. That’s why you’re no longer Lord of the Neanderthugs. But they still think you can get it for them, don’t they?”
“Nicely deduced.” Dad nods approvingly. “But I’m not admitting anything. And I know nothing about exploding brains.”
“You don’t have to admit it because I know I’m right. And even if you didn’t realise the rock was dangerous at the time, you do now. It has to be returned to the museum fast. What will your Neanderfriends do then?”
“I have a backup plan.” Dad taps his Stealth Blanket.
“You do know everyone can see you, right?” I check. “This is just one of your bizarre attempts to wind people up?”
“There’s more to invisibility that meets the eye.” Dad winks theatrically on the word ‘eye’.
Before I can ask what the wink’s supposed to signify, one of the guards sneaks up behind us and tries to snatch Dad’s blanket. Dad squeals like a baby in a blender. Everyone turns to look and the guard backs off quickly. His fellow guards move forward, signalling the end of our visit.
“It’s only a blanket,” one guard mutters. “Let him keep it. He has enhanced privilege status.”
That means Dad has earned extra treats through good behaviour. Why is he wasting them on a stinky blanket?
“He thinks it makes him invisible,” I say, answering my own question.
“No he doesn’t,” the guard corrects me. “He’s pretending he does. He hopes that by convincing us he’s insane he’ll get himself released early. We see it all the time.”
I’m not so sure. This is more than fake insanity. I know it is. As I follow Holly and Vigil-Aunty to the car, Dad’s comment keeps playing
through my head.
CLUE 29
Dad says, “There’s more to invisibility than meets the eye.”
I think about Dad’s research.
(RECAP)
CLUE 13
Dad was exploring how the camera lens sees things differently from the human eye.
Eureka!
Halfway to the car, it comes to me.
Ignoring Vigil-Aunty’s protests, I drag Holly back towards the prison building. “Quick. Have you got a camera?”
“You want some happy family snaps with our banged-up Dad?”
“Ha. Hilarious. Have you got a camera or not?”
“Not.”
“I can’t let you back in there, Miss,” the man at the gate says I as I try to push past him. “Visiting time is over.”
“I need to take a picture of my Dad – Professor Brian ‘Big Brain’ Hawkins. It’s urgent. It could save the Earth.”
“Of course it could. Unfortunately, you’ll have to save the Earth using your special powers of photography on your next visit. He’s back in the cell block now.”
“You don’t know that. He could still be near the Visiting Hall. I just need to get close enough to take a picture.”
“I do know that. No pictures. Go home.”
My shoulders sink and I half turn to go. Then I realise something. “You said you know he’s in the cell block. How do you know? Can you see him on that screen?” I point to the monitor between us. I’d have thought the CCTV here only covered the gate area and perimeter fence, but the guard’s eyes keep flicking to the screen shiftily. If he knows anything about computers, he might be able to access more areas than he’s supposed to. It must be boring sitting out here all day. Perhaps watching the inmates in solitary confinement qualifies as entertainment?
“You can see the cells. I know you can. You have to let me look.”
“I don’t have to let you do anything. Hop it.”
The Case of the Exploding Brains Page 9
