September

by Gabrielle Lord

  They were only a few metres away when Gab dropped Winter’s hand and came running back to me, Winter following closely behind.

  ‘How come I’m wearing this?’ she said, holding up her hands to me. ‘I thought I gave it to you!’ She pointed to the little Celtic ring on her finger. ‘I did, didn’t I? I remember! It was after you nearly drowned in the bay. Back in the holiday house?’

  ‘You did,’ I agreed. ‘You did give it to me, but then I visited you once—in the hospital—and I put it back on your finger to show you I’d been there.’

  ‘Even though everyone was after you?’

  ‘I snuck in. And I’ll visit you again, I promise.’

  ‘But it will be too dangerous!’ she protested.

  ‘I’ll find a safe way. OK? Now quickly, you’d better get going.’

  ‘Come on, Gabbi,’ Winter said, taking my sister’s hand again.

  But Gabbi stood firm and twisted the Celtic ring right off her finger.

  ‘You have to take this back,’ she said, ‘It’s kept me safe so far. You need it more than me now.’

  She passed the silver ring through the window, and I slipped it back onto my pinkie-finger. I looked down at the two interconnecting strands that reminded me of the symbol for eternity.

  ‘When I come home for good, I’ll give it back. See you soon, Gab,’ I whispered, turning the ring on my finger.

  I watched again as the pair walked away. I still couldn’t believe Gab was OK, and that Winter—this girl I’d doubted, countless times, risked her own life by jumping into Spindrift River to save mine.

  We’d been back on the road for an hour and a half after collecting Winter. Sharkey decided it was safe enough for us to pull over for a quick bathroom break near a picnic spot in the bush.

  ‘Be back here in under ten,’ he called out, as the three of us—Winter, Boges and I—wandered off through the bush in different directions.

  In the distance, I spotted a family with little kids playing under shady paperbark trees beside the curving lagoon. The trees along the banks reminded me of how Dad used to make toy boats for us when Gab and I were little, playing around the ponds at Richmond Park. He’d use some of the long strips of papery bark that hung down from the massive trees to craft a little hull, then fasten some wafer-thin paperbark on a pointy willow stick to make a sail.

  I thought about Gabbi and imagined how shocked the cops back at the station would have been to find her at their door. And, far more exciting than that, I imagined Mum’s joy on receiving the news that not only was her daughter found alive, she was out of the coma.

  It was almost unbelievable.

  I’d lost the Riddle and the Jewel, but Gabbi was safe and well.

  It was September. I had less than four months left to sort out the Ormond Singularity before it expired. Or, as the crazy guy warned me, before I expired. By December 31st, I told myself, I must find the Riddle and the Jewel, get them back and then somehow get myself over to Ireland … All while escaping the clutches of the law, Vulkan Sligo and Oriana de la Force. It seemed impossible, but I was starting to feel convinced that going to Ireland was my only hope of tracking down the missing pieces.

  I stared sightlessly ahead as the hugeness of the job in front of me loomed in my mind.

  From one of the nearby trees, a magpie warbled.

  What should I do next?

  The magpie warbled louder. I turned my head, shielding my eyes from harsh sunlight that streamed through a gap in the leaves of the tree I was under.

  Within seconds, I was forced to duck as a fast-moving, black and white dive-bomber narrowly missed my face. Sunlight must have reflected from the silver Celtic ring on my finger.

  The black and white flurry whooshed past me, then settled on a willow branch growing from a half-submerged tree in the lagoon.

  Could it be?

  It couldn’t. Not a chance.

  I squinted.

  ‘Maggers, is that you?’ I asked, examining him.

  He squawked and ruffled his feathers.

  I was sure it was him! He was getting ready for another dive.

  ‘Maggers! It’s me! Enough with the dive-bombing, OK?’

  At the sound of my voice, Maggers stopped his attack and flew to a lower branch to check me out. I took a step backwards. I wanted to keep my eyeballs in their sockets.

  I noticed distinctive black flecks around his white collar, and the small white patch over his right eye. I was almost one hundred per cent sure it was Maggers—Great-uncle Bartholomew’s attack bird.

  ‘You’re a long way from home, Maggers. What is it?’

  ‘Argle bargle,’ he said.

  ‘And the same to you.’

  He gave himself a little shake, then flew to the ground, not far from where I was, scratching around contentedly and checking things out with his beak, taking his surroundings in with his intelligent eyes.

  It was so good to see him again. As I watched him, I thought of the bug he’d swallowed, and how he’d taken Oriana de la Force’s thugs on a wild magpie chase through the bush after Bartholomew figured out they’d been tracking me.

  An idea started forming in my mind. An idea that I hoped would give us the information we so desperately needed—the whereabouts of the Riddle and the Jewel.

  ‘Time to get going,’ I said to the magpie. ‘See you again some time.’

  ‘Argle bargle,’ he said.

  I ran back to the car and Maggers stayed close by, flying from tree to tree. I swear that bird was following me.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ I said to Sharkey, Winter and Boges, who were all waiting for me inside the car. ‘You won’t believe it,’ I said as I climbed in the back. ‘I saw Maggers!’

  ‘Maggers?’ Winter repeated, confused.

  ‘Not the attack bird?’ Boges asked, with a dubious chuckle. ‘Your great-uncle’s magpie?’

  ‘It was him, I swear!’

  Sharkey sighed and started the car.

  ‘Look, there he is!’ I said, pointing out the window to Maggers, flying above the car.

  ‘You think that bird is Maggers?’ said Boges, while exchanging disbelieving looks with Winter. ‘As if!’

  I ignored him. I sat back and pulled the seat-belt across my chest and clicked it into place. I silently stared out of the window, carefully watching the black and white bird as we began pulling away from the kerb. Eventually, Maggers disappeared into the trees lining the side of the road.

  119 days to go …

  Boges had given me the all-clear to stay in the beachside mansion again, until further notice, so I was enjoying it while it lasted. I couldn’t believe there were people in the world who were so rich that they could have a house as amazing as this one without even needing to live in it.

  Winter and Boges had both had one too many mysterious absences recently to explain to one person or another, so they decided to lie low for a little while to subdue any suspicions. That meant, for now, my life was back to just me, myself and I.

  Knowing Gabbi was recovering at her new home—Rafe’s place—alive, awake and well, was a massive weight off my shoulders. I almost felt like I could relax a bit. At least until Boges and Winter could get back on the DMO case with me.

  I’d been working on my plan to get information from Oriana’s, but I needed to wait until Boges was free to see whether he thought we could pull it off.

  I didn’t want to waste the down time, so I headed for the home theatre room—to get back to working my way through the mansion’s extensive movie collection …

  115 days to go …

  boges, any chance we can meet up soon? i’m halfway thru the movie collection, but going a bit stir-crazy now …

  cabin fever, hey? i don’t blame u. i have heaps of work 2 do, but me and winter r both free on the 12th. meet u @ hers?

  sure. what time?

  after 4pm?

  perfect. do u remember that air rifle u had years ago? the one u adjusted so we could fire those little
plastic parachute soldiers out of it?

  sure do. it’s here somewhere, buried underneath all my stuff. what about it? where is this leading?

  i’ll explain @ winter’s. can u pls bring it?

  ok … i’ll start digging around for it now. ur not planning a shooting rampage, r u?

  nothing like that. there’s something else i need too.

  let me guess … bullets?

  haha. no bullets. i need the smallest listening device u can get ur hands on.

  114 days to go …

  I was on the street in hiding, scoping out Oriana’s house once again, looking for the best vantage point from where I could put my plan into action.

  She had improved the security around her house considerably since the last time I’d been snooping, searching for signs of Gabbi. There were small cameras that hadn’t been there before. The driveway had a new tall metal gate across it with a serious electronic lock. Another security door had been added to the front entrance.

  I considered and rejected a number of possibilities and then I noticed the regrowth on the pine tree from where I’d taken the photo that had revealed the Ormond Riddle. Each lopped-off bough was sprouting fresh green needles, making for more cover than I’d had on my earlier climb.

  I’d be safest at night, although that would bring about its own problems. For what I intended to do, I needed some visibility.

  111 days to go …

  I ducked around the back of the apartment block, hauling myself up the fire-escape stairs until I reached the very top. I was starving—I hadn’t eaten all day—and was feeling a bit light-headed.

  As soon as I stepped onto the roof and looked towards the door of Winter’s little flat, I could smell something delicious in the air. My stomach grumbled loudly.

  Winter must have just washed her hair because it was all wrapped up on top of her head in a white towel. She was wearing a grey-and-white striped sweater and dark blue jeans. Her face was scrubbed clean. I thought she looked cute and wanted to tell her so, but instead I walked inside and said, ‘Something smells good.’

  ‘I made us some lasagne.’

  ‘I love lasagne.’

  ‘Well, you’d better try it before you get too excited. I’ve never made it before.’

  ‘I’m so hungry right now I could eat almost anything. Although,’ I added, ‘I’m sure if you made it, it will taste delicious.’

  ‘Take a seat,’ she said, sliding out a chair for me. ‘Like my new desk?’ she asked, flashing her eyes over to a neat white table, with ornate, carved legs, that sat in the place of her old one. ‘Vulkan didn’t even end up bringing it over for me—he sent some other guy around with it.’

  ‘Who did he send?’ I asked, wondering who Sligo was counting on to do his dirty work these days. ‘Wasn’t Red Singlet, was it?’

  ‘Nah, it was Max. You know, the rev-head guy I had to distract when you and Repro broke into the safe? Bruno’s been behind bars ever since the shootout in Redcliffe—there was no escaping the cops when he was perched up the bell tower. So Vulkan’s been relying on Max a lot more lately.’

  ‘Hello?’ came Boges’s sing-song voice from the front door.

  Winter scurried over to let him in, pulling the towel out of her hair in the process. Her hair was longer than I’d ever seen it before. It twisted almost all the way down to her waist.

  ‘Hi!’ she said as she greeted Boges.

  ‘What’s cookin’, good lookin’?’ he joked, reaching in for a hug.

  ‘Lasagne,’ I called out. ‘Sit down, I’m starving.’

  Boges came over and squeezed my shoulders before sitting down opposite me. He placed a long duffel bag on the floor, and I hoped it had the air rifle inside it. ‘Wow, it smells good,’ he said.

  ‘I hope it tastes as good!’ said Winter, heaving the dish out of the oven, with the help of red and white, polka-dot oven mitts.

  ‘Dude,’ Boges said, ploughing a fork into the giant slice of steaming lasagne that had just landed on his plate. ‘I have some information I need to pass on to you. Winter,’ he said with his mouth full, ‘this is amazing!’

  Winter beamed.

  ‘Sure is,’ I added, before looking back at Boges, waiting to hear his news.

  ‘I called into Rafe’s house and talked to Gabbi yesterday,’ he said. ‘She looks and sounds so much better; she’s getting stronger every day … It’s so good to have Gabbi back to her old self.’

  ‘That’s great to hear, but why are you saying it like it’s bad news?’ I asked, not liking the tone of his voice.

  Boges scratched at his head. It was such a normal thing for him to do, but it looked so different without all of his dark hair flopping about over his hands.

  ‘The media has gone crazy over the story—it’s been an absolute frenzy,’ he said. ‘The paparazzi’s camped out the front of Rafe’s place 24–7 at the moment. I spoke to your mum, too. She’s happy to have Gabbi back but—but—’

  ‘But what?’ I asked.

  ‘What?’ I repeated, puzzled.

  ‘Look man, don’t take this the wrong way. But it’s your mum …’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘Gabbi’s noticed it too. She thinks she’s … changed. I know we’ve talked about it before but—I don’t know how to put this—she’s—’ Boges shrugged, gesturing with his open hands. ‘Do you think she’s taking something? Something to help with all her anxiety and stress?’

  ‘Possibly,’ I said. ‘I know she’s changed. She hasn’t been herself since this whole mess began unfolding. It’s just all the bad things that have happened to her, building up, overwhelming her.’

  Boges shook his head. ‘Just as many bad things have happened to you. And to Gabbi. And both of you are still the same person. Gab looks a little different, but every day, as she recovers, she’s showing that she’s still the same old Gabbi. You’ve had to toughen up, I know that, but you’re still the same Cal Ormond underneath. With your mum, it’s something else. I’ve known her almost all my life, like since I was five. I know how she handles things.’

  His face brightened all of a sudden. ‘Remember that time when I stacked it off your new red BMX bike, when we were about seven or something? I had blood gushing out of my forehead, and my mum and gran were wailing, completely freaking out about it, running around like headless chooks. But your mum was the one who came over to my side, held my hand and said, all steady and calm, “Well, you’ve had yourself a bit of an accident, haven’t you? Let’s get you into the car and go get you patched up.” She kept me calm by acting as though all I needed was a bandaid, but I ended up with nine stitches! Look,’ Boges said, pointing to a scar high on his forehead that used to be covered up with his long hair. ‘Check out that scar!’

  ‘Yikes,’ said Winter, leaning across the table to have a closer look. ‘I’ve never noticed it before.’

  ‘Cal’s mum was always the calming voice of reason,’ he explained to Winter. ‘Even when his dad died, she was the rock. Wasn’t she?’ he said to me.

  ‘She was the rock in tough situations,’ I agreed.

  Sadness gripped my heart. That part of Mum’s personality felt like a distant memory.

  Boges paused and took a deep breath, and the concern on his face brought me back to reality.

  ‘I’m going to talk really straight, dude. I think she’s taking way too many pills, or something. It’s like she’s in la-la land. I mean, there’s no way she would be acting like this—this weird, detached woman who almost switched her own daughter’s life support off, and who believes her son is a murderer. Not the Mrs Ormond I’ve known all my life.’ Boges fiddled with his fork. ‘No offence.’

  ‘No offence taken.’ I thought some more before I spoke again. ‘You know, the few times I’ve spoken to Mum, since all this happened, I have felt like she wasn’t really there. It’s weird because even when Dad was dying, and even after he died, Mum didn’t take anything for the pain. He was her best friend, her soul mate, her life �
�� and he was taken away. But she fought through it with nothing but sheer will.’

  Winter put her hand on mine.

  ‘What has Gabbi said about it?’ I asked.

  Boges shook his head. ‘Nothing about medication. But she said she’s really worried. She had a bit of a tear in her eye when I saw her. She asked me if I thought there was something wrong with your mum. Rafe’s really worried, too. You can see it in the way he looks at her. Maybe it’s not pills. Maybe she’s …’ His voice trailed off but I knew what he was thinking.

  ‘You’re thinking she might be having a break-down? Going crazy or something with all the stress?’

  ‘I don’t know, Cal. At least now she has Gabbi back safely. That might help calm her down a bit.’

  ‘Is Gabbi going to be safe there?’ I asked. ‘She was kidnapped from there once before. Have they upped the security?’

  ‘She’ll be fine at Rafe’s place. The security there is tight as,’ Boges said. ‘Rafe’s had all sorts of new gadgets, bars and alarms installed for protection. He walked me around the perimeter, explaining everything to me. Pretty impressive. He’s done his research. He knows what he’s talking about.’

  Thank goodness, I thought. Although it would make it very hard for me to visit Gabbi.

  ‘It’s weird how much he looks like your dad,’ said Boges. ‘I mean, I know they’re identical twins, but I never really saw the similarities in them before.’ Suddenly distracted, he eyed a chocolate cake that Winter had begun unveiling, from underneath a tea towel. ‘No way, you made chocolate cake for me too?’

  Winter’s flat was starting to look like the operations room in a TV police show. We had our notes spread everywhere. The photos from Ireland and Dad’s drawings were stuck against cupboards or propped up on the counter so that wherever you looked there was something to study, something to consider. The freaky little monkey puzzled me a lot. He didn’t seem to fit in anywhere at all. What could he possibly mean?