August

by Gabrielle Lord

  Boges started scratching his head and opened his big mouth to interrupt, but Winter quickly shut him up again with one look.

  ‘As I was saying, you needed the Jewel and the Riddle, and that was it. I had an opportunity to reach into your bag and remove the other stuff from it, so I did.’

  I couldn’t believe it–I hadn’t lost everything after all!

  ‘Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to do that?’ I asked her.

  ‘What, and completely freak you out? I didn’t want you to feel like you were in danger! I wasn’t even sure if I needed to do what I did, I just did it. In case.’

  ‘And why haven’t you told me this already? I’ve been stressing out thinking I’d lost everything, and all along you’ve had all this here!’

  ‘Well, I wanted to, but see there was a slight hitch with my plan … so I needed to sort that out first. Before I could tell you.’

  ‘Don’t stop talking now,’ said Boges. He was enthralled!

  ‘The hitch,’ she repeated. ‘Somewhere in the craziness at the cemetery, I lost them. I thought you were going to die, Cal. I wasn’t thinking straight.’

  ‘I thought you were dead, too,’ added Boges. ‘It was one crazy scene. Winter was on her hands and knees trying to find you and dig you out.’

  Winter smiled at him, happy to have him defending her.

  ‘When you showed up here I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I’d retraced our steps twice already, trying to track the documents down, without any luck. But then I went back there again this morning … and voila!’

  She sat down, quietly. Her eyes were wide with anticipation. I could see she was nervous and really unsure. ‘I’m so sorry, Cal, I was just trying to–’

  ‘Thanks, Winter,’ I said, cutting her off with a hug. I held her tight. ‘This is the best present,’ I whispered in her ear.

  ‘Enough already, guys, you’re going to make me cry,’ joked Boges.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ I said. ‘I thought I’d lost everything.’ Gabbi’s freedom was in reach. ‘Now I have bargaining power.’

  Boges grinned widely. ‘I’m going to concentrate on checking out Oriana de la Force,’ he said. ‘Follow her. See what I can find out.’

  ‘Her place was empty this afternoon,’ I said.

  ‘Winter,’ continued Boges. ‘I suggest you keep concentrating on Sligo.’

  ‘I’m already onto it,’ said Winter. ‘But I might sniff out the books–see if there have been any strange arrangements made, like the purchase of any medical equipment.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Boges.

  ‘Why haven’t they made contact?’ I asked. ‘Isn’t that what kidnappers do? What’s the idea of this waiting game?’

  ‘They probably want you to sweat a while,’ said Winter. ‘Make you panic a bit, in the hope that you’ll give up more than you would normally. Maybe they weren’t counting on you being caught by the cops either … it depends on who has her.’

  ‘Boges,’ I said, suddenly thinking about my online page, ‘have you been monitoring my blog?’

  ‘There hasn’t been anything on there worth mentioning, but you should check it out.’

  I pulled out my new phone and entered my blog address. Winter nibbled on a cupcake while Boges watched over my shoulder.

  He was right. There weren’t any new private messages, or any clues on my wall, but there were a few messages of support.

  Boges stood up and swung his own backpack over his shoulders. ‘I have to run, guys,’ he announced. ‘I’ll check in again soon, OK.’

  ‘Want to take some cake or something?’ asked Winter.

  ‘Do I look like I need more cake?’ he said, patting his belly. ‘I’ll answer that for you–no.’

  ‘Thanks again,’ I shouted as he ran out the door.

  140 days to go …

  A whole week had passed since I’d blown out the candles on my belated birthday cake. It had been the fastest week on record. Time was flying through my fingers and we weren’t any closer to finding Gabbi.

  I was still hiding out in Winter’s flat. I had to leave a few times–when she was being tutored–but I felt safe. Boges dropped round whenever he could so we could all talk over any developments. Nelson Sharkey and I had also been in touch, but we were dry on information.

  How can a little girl just disappear? Someone must have seen something. I had three people helping me work on it, and so far we’d unearthed nothing. When were the kidnappers going to contact me? I kept thinking of my little sister, wondering if she was still alive.

  Something in my heart told me she was.

  137 days to go …

  My mobile started ringing just as I was drifting off to sleep. I almost fell off the couch as I scrambled for it.

  ‘I have a name for you,’ said Sharkey. ‘But you need to be very wary of her.’

  ‘Her? Who is she? Does she have Gabbi?’

  ‘This is someone who might be able to help you find out who does. Her name is Ma Little. You’ll find her in the parlour at Fortescue House–a big old tumbledown mansion she runs as a pub and boarding house. Go there tomorrow, but be very careful. People like Ma, who run messages for both sides, are often in the pay of both sides. That way they can sell secrets to the highest bidder. She can put you in touch with a well-known police informant. I can’t do it myself. It’s important I keep my mug out of the picture.’

  136 days to go …

  ‘Where are you going?’ Winter sleepily called out from her bed as I was tying up my shoes.

  ‘Sharkey has a lead for me. He’s given me the name of a woman he thinks can help me out. I have to go speak to her now.’

  ‘When will you be back?’

  ‘Don’t know. I have my phone with me. Wish me luck.’

  ‘I can do better than that,’ said Winter, climbing out of bed and pulling on a pair of jeans. In the blink of an eye, she had a cardigan and sneakers on, and had her hair tied back in a ponytail. ‘I can come with you,’ she said.

  She swung her bag over her shoulder, then grabbed two apples from a bowl near the sink.

  ‘OK. Let’s go.’

  We found Fortescue House after a few wrong turns. It was an old building, needing a fresh coat of paint, down near the docks and across the road from something called the Mission to Seafarers.

  From the flagpole over the main entrance, a banner flew with a striking image of a lionfish on it. Above the open doorway was a handwritten sign: ‘Reception’.

  I looked into the dark hallway and saw floorboards, covered in part by worn carpet pieces, empty tables and chairs by a bar, and a rickety staircase leading up to the second floor. At the top of the stairs hung another handwritten sign: ‘House Guests Only’. The small reception alcove was just around the corner to our left.

  ‘I’ll go inside,’ I said to Winter. She nodded to me. ‘You stay out here. Wait a minute–’

  ‘What is it?’ she asked looking back at me.

  ‘You haven’t taken anything out of my backpack, have you?’

  Winter rolled her eyes. ‘Should I have?’ she mocked.

  I stepped inside and walked on creaking floorboards to the reception alcove. The smell of stale cigarettes was thick in the air, despite a strong antiseptic cleaner that was being sprayed and wiped on tables by a thin man who turned around as I entered. There was no expression on his face, nor in his cold blue eyes as he stopped what he was doing.

  ‘Can I help you?’ he asked. He made it sound like a threat.

  ‘I’m looking for Ma Little. She’s expecting me,’ I added, although it wasn’t strictly accurate. But I wasn’t here to be accurate. I was here to be convincing.

  ‘She’s expecting you?’ he asked, like I was some sort of cockroach.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Who’s there, Ray?’ called a man’s voice from somewhere deep in the reception area.

  ‘Some kid reckons Ma’s expecting him,’ said Ray, not taking his cold blue eyes off me. He
clutched the cleaning spray trigger like a gun.

  ‘Tell her it’s Mouse,’ I said. ‘From Armitage.’

  Ray laughed hard at my name, and accidentally squeezed the cleaner. A fine mist of antiseptic shot out.

  From the corner of my eye I saw movement behind the reception area. I blinked in disbelief when the dark shadow I’d imagined was a couple of tall filing cabinets started to move and I realised I was looking at a huge mountain of a woman.

  As she approached the grilled area that separated the reception counter from the rest of the entrance, I saw that she was wearing a tent-style dress covered with purple and white flowers on a black background.

  ‘What are you staring at, Mouse?’ the huge woman asked in a deep, intimidating voice, which I’d mistaken earlier for a man’s. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

  Ma Little was almost two metres tall, and looked almost as wide. Her eyes glittered in a stern face topped with a big, black bob, so thick it could have been a wig.

  ‘Nelson Sharkey suggested we talk,’ I said, approaching the grille.

  ‘Old Sharkey and I go back a long way,’ said Ma in her gruff voice, giving me a look I couldn’t read. Had they been friends? Enemies? ‘Let’s find somewhere quiet to talk, shall we?’ she said.

  I walked behind the huge woman as she wobbled into the parlour of Fortescue House, a seedy area past the bar with a few old-fashioned dark leather armchairs gathered around a fake fireplace. Ashtrays sat on stands near the furniture.

  Ma Little stopped at a wide lounge chair, turned and practically collapsed into it. Some of the folds around her waist spilled over the arms.

  ‘Nelson said you could help me,’ I said, easing myself into a chair nearby. ‘I’m trying to get information.’

  ‘What kind of information?’ she asked, sounding out of breath.

  ‘A little girl was kidnapped. I need to get a message to her kidnapper.’

  A bemused expression creased into her face. ‘You’re speaking of the Ormond child?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘The one with an older brother on the run?’

  ‘So I’ve heard,’ I said, keeping my voice steady.

  ‘Some sort of psycho kid,’ she said, peering closely at me. ‘Violent, dangerous, unpredictable, deceitful.’

  ‘It’s his sister I’m interested in. I have to get a message to the people who are holding her.’

  ‘And you think I know who that is?’

  ‘I don’t know. I hope so.’

  ‘And who do you think has her?’

  ‘I have my suspicions,’ I said. ‘I want to put an offer to them.’

  ‘Oh, really? What makes you think you can get her back, Mouse?’

  ‘I have some things that they need. Things that will be crucial in achieving their … greater goals.’

  ‘Things?’

  ‘Things,’ I repeated, unwilling to say too much.

  ‘And you’d like to offer these items in exchange for the little girl? What do you have? A treasure map?’ she joked. Her laughter quickly turned into wheezy coughing.

  A treasure map …

  ‘Something like that,’ I said. ‘I also have information that will help them understand any items they might have already. Without this information, nothing will make sense.’

  ‘I may have heard a whisper of the girl. But I don’t work for nothing.’

  I was tempted to pounce and shake the information out of her, but I restrained myself.

  ‘If it’s money you’re after,’ I started to say, with a feeling of despair. ‘Then I’m not sure you are the woman to help me.’

  ‘It’s not your money I want. If I help you, I’ll collect from Sharkey. You tell him that.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘What are you going to tell him?’

  ‘That you’ll collect from him.’

  ‘That Ma Little will collect from Nelson Sharkey,’ she repeated.

  ‘I have it,’ I said.

  ‘Repeat it after me,’ she demanded.

  ‘Ma Little will collect from Nelson Sharkey,’ I recited.

  ‘That’s good. As for information about the little girl, I hear all kinds of things here in this boarding house. All sorts of people come here. People who are just out of prison. People who are on the run. People who talk too much. They’re always talking about what’s happening on the street.’

  Her eyes narrowed in her pudgy face.

  ‘Like I know there is some kid with a huge price on his head who’s giving the cops a very hard time.’ She threw back her head and laughed, making me really uncomfortable. ‘Don’t I just love it when the cops are having a very hard time!’ she cried, slapping her knees. ‘And you! You must be wetting your pants laughing!’

  I wasn’t wetting my pants laughing. I didn’t feel like joking around–I was worried sick about my sister. I stood there wondering if this woman would ever agree to help me, or whether she just wanted to play with me like a toy.

  Her laughter suddenly stopped. Her mouth was a hard, tight line as she spoke. ‘You want me to pass on the deal you’re offering? The things?’

  ‘Yes. Make sure you tell them that without the information I have,’ I added, ‘they’ll never get what they want in time. I’m also offering everything I have up here,’ I said, tapping my forehead.

  ‘Your head on a plate?’ She leaned back in her chair and laughed again, the rough, scratchy sound ending in another wheeze.

  Once she’d recovered, she sat staring at me.

  Finally she spoke. ‘Give us a hand up, will you?’

  I got up and grabbed her hands, but I could barely budge her. She started yelling for Ray.

  Ray came running, wiping his hands on his jeans. It took all our strength, with Ma Little heaving and grunting and trying to help, to finally pull her out of the deep lounge.

  We slowly walked her back to the reception area. She squeezed through the archway near the counter, calling back. ‘I’ll pass the information on to someone who might be able to help. But don’t forget. Tell Nelson Sharkey I’ll collect from him.’

  Ma Little and Nelson Sharkey seemed to know each other well. I wondered what it was she wanted to collect from him. I didn’t think he’d have a great deal of money to hand over. But before I could think any more about it, I heard Ray’s voice shouting after me.

  ‘Hey! I know who you are! You’re that psycho kid!’

  I bolted. I heard him break into a run behind me, and I jumped down the steps leading out of Fortescue House, straight onto the footpath, head down and running as hard as I could. Ma Little might not be after the price on my head, but Ray sure was.

  He was running hard behind me. He was fit and lean and probably stronger than me, but I was running for my life, and Gabbi’s life too. My feet were pounding down the street. I had to shake him off my trail, but couldn’t see any openings, or lanes to turn down. Ray was gaining on me.

  From out of nowhere, Winter suddenly materialised in front of me. She ran straight past me, in the opposite direction, and seconds later I heard a big thud, followed by Ray’s angry shouting and swearing.

  A quick glance behind me showed Winter and Ray scrambling on the floor.

  Winter’s profuse apologies and Ray’s shouting faded into the distance as I escaped.

  I made my way back to Winter’s flat and was surprised to see that she’d beaten me back there.

  ‘Poor Ray,’ she said. ‘Every time he tried to get up, I seemed to slip again. I just kept saying “I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz!”’

  ‘He almost had me. You saved my skin.’

  ‘Told you I’d be useful. So how did it go?’

  ‘Good, I hope.’ I told her about the freaky owner of Fortescue House, Ma Little, and our brief conversation. ‘I wasn’t even sure if she really was a woman. She was so big and had this really deep voice. Anyway, she said she’d pass on my message.’

  ‘I guess we just have to wait,’ she said. ‘And hope she comes through.’


  133 days to go …

  More days had passed without a word from anyone about Gabbi. Sharkey told me to be patient while waiting to hear from Ma Little. But it was tough. I was constantly fighting off thoughts that my sister had been killed, or had died because she wasn’t being cared for properly.

  Winter’s search for information at Sligo’s properties hadn’t turned up anything interesting–no unusual purchases, no suspicious activity.

  Boges was keeping a watch on Oriana de la Force when he wasn’t at school, and I scoped out her place whenever I could, too, but it was quiet there. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  I was in the middle of checking my blog when Winter returned. I’d been trying to ignore the constant news headlines with updates on the number of days since Gabbi went missing–I couldn’t bear seeing another mention of ‘grave fears for her safety’.

  This morning Winter had gone to Sligo’s car yard again to watch what was going on from afar. She rushed through the doorway in a blur and flung her bag onto her bed, before plonking down cross-legged beside me.

  ‘I thought Zombie had come back from the dead!’ she said, wide-eyed. ‘I was hiding inside a wrecked car body, monitoring the place, when this guy in a four-wheel drive rolled into the yard. When he climbed out of the car I almost choked! He was the spitting image of Zombrovski!’

  ‘What?’ All of these doubles were sending my sanity into a spin.

  ‘Sligo comes out of the building to meet him, and it turns out this guy is Zombie’s brother! Zombie Two! And I reckon this guy’s even bigger and uglier!’

  I swore, dreading what this meant for me.

  ‘Sligo was looking for a replacement,’ said Winter, ‘and now he’s found the ultimate recruit–someone who’s swearing vengeance on the psycho kid who killed his brother.’