‘Oh, don’t you worry, this is only temporary,’ he said. ‘It took me ages to clear away the rock-fall at my old place, just so I could get back in and collect my stuff. I have another lair lined up, I’m just using this for storage,’ he said, looking around the place with his wiry hands on his hips. ‘I could do with some help with the move. I was just sitting here this morning, wondering how in the world I was going to manage shifting everything from here to my new place. It’s funny,’ he said, ‘how help sometimes lands, quite literally, in your lap!’
I smiled, wishing he could also help me solve my problems.
‘Because of the bluecoats and other nasty types, like those little thugs who trashed my collection and tied us up,’ continued Repro, ‘it’s best to make the move to the cavern at night.’ He looked at me as though he were waiting for an answer.
I knew I owed Repro. Big time. ‘Of course I can help you,’ I said. The cavern sounded interesting.
We moved as Repro wished, under cover of night, using narrow old shafts and tunnels. I followed him with a heavy-duty torch, carting and hoisting boxes of his collection up and down a near-impossible path.
We finally stopped at a place where a tunnel widened out into a low-roofed cavern. Beyond the reach of our lights was blackness, darker than the darkest night. I had no idea what lay beyond, and didn’t have much time to think about it—as soon as we laid our loads on the ground, Repro dusted off his hands and led us off again to fetch more.
It took us countless exhausting trips, hauling his remaining belongings, his dismantled bookshelves, the artworks, all the stuff that he’d collected over the decades. We retraced our steps through the tunnels, emerging in the cavern, and then back to the shed for yet more of his stuff.
Finally, after lowering the last of the cartons down the shaft to where the rest of the collection was piled up in the cavern, Repro stopped. He stood his torch upright on the ground and sat on one of the boxes. I joined him, exhausted and relieved the job was done. We listened to the distant rumble of the trains through the rocks around us, and shivered in the chill of the air.
Once the rumbling passed, I became aware of the sound of dripping water. Plink, plink, plink … I picked up my torch and approached the pitch-black end of the cavern. What was beyond there, I wondered? More tunnels? A honeycomb of other, smaller caves? This place was more private for Repro than the shed, but it still wasn’t what I imagined for his new home. It was too vast, too open.
‘Take my torch, too,’ said Repro, tossing it to me. ‘You may as well check out the next part of the job.’
‘The next part?’ I asked, looking around at the huge pile of stuff we had just moved over the last few hours.
‘The night is young and we’re already halfway.’
‘Halfway!’ I said, almost choking. Was this guy for real? Where were we headed, the centre of the earth?
I took the torch from him and went where he pointed, to the place where the blackness spread beyond us. I held the two torches high and they penetrated the inky wall of darkness.
‘Oh man!’ I gasped, shocked and amazed.
Close beside me, Repro chuckled. ‘You didn’t think you’d be going boating tonight did you?’
I stood gaping at what lay ahead. Black and rippling in the torchlight, beneath a continuation of the cavernous roof, stretched an endless underground lake. Stalactites from the ceiling dripped water onto its placid surface, making wide ripples in the water. A few metres to my right, on the shore of this amazing underground sea, a small wooden boat barely rocked.
‘Come on. Don’t just stand there like a galah. Give us a hand to load up the boat.’
We piled cartons into the boat until the water-line was only a few centimetres below the prow. I steadied the small craft while Repro climbed on board, then I hopped in and used one of the oars to push off. I picked up the other oar and soon developed a steady rhythm, cutting through the dark and silent lake. Repro sat at the bow, shining the torch ahead.
‘OK, navigator. Where to?’ I asked.
‘Straight ahead. To the other side. I’ll give you plenty of warning before landfall.’
Repro’s torch cut a narrow swathe of light ahead of us. It was an eerie trip, gliding across the black water, dipping the creaking oars into the surface and propelling us along.
I realised Repro was smiling proudly and looking at me as I took our surroundings in. ‘You like it?’ he asked.
‘It’s amazing,’ I said. ‘I’ve heard stories about a lake under the city, but never believed them!’
Repro insisted on transporting everything over before he’d let me check out his new place. It took five trips there and back before we’d shifted all his stuff, and by that time, my arms were aching, my clothes were soaked and my sneakers were squelching, filled with water … but still, I couldn’t wait to look around.
‘I’ve been working on this site for a while now,’ said Repro, hanging up a lamp, ‘and already bought the conduit for the wiring down here. Another day or two and I’ll have full power again. There’s a sewer line just over there,’ he said pointing to the side of the lake, ‘and I’ll build my bathroom on top of that. I’ll add my little pipe in. No-one will even notice.’
We were in the dead end of a tunnel, that no-one else would probably ever realise existed. I looked around at the weird set-up, the harsh shadows cast over the walls and the water by the lamp.
‘Another few weeks and you won’t know the place,’ Repro chuckled. ‘There’s plenty of air here and I’m even planning an open fireplace with the chimney running up one of those shafts. Imagine an open fire in the winter. With a bit of luck, Santa Claus might even visit me!’
It took a bit of imagination, but I was starting to picture some pretty cosy living quarters.
‘I’ll build a nice rock wall here,’ Repro continued, pointing to the open end of the tunnel, ‘and make another secret door.’
He dug out a packet of chocolate biscuits from a washing basket of stuff. ‘Now, take a seat and have a break. No, not on that one. That’s the box of track detonators. Don’t want to set off an explosion!’
I kicked off my sneakers, rolled up my wet jeans, and sat on another one of the upturned boxes. I grabbed a couple of biscuits and tucked into them.
‘What’s that?’ Repro suddenly asked, looking at my legs.
‘What’s what?’
‘The numbers. On the inside of your ankle?’
‘I wish I knew,’ I said.
Repro stared intently at the marks.
‘How did they get there? Did you write them?’
‘I’m pretty sure Kelvin put them there last month, after he dumped me in the desert. He’d been ordered to kill me, but he couldn’t do it, and when I woke up I found them there. Won’t rub off.’
Repro looked again at the fading numbers and letters. ‘You know what it is, don’t you?’ he said. ‘You know what those numbers mean, right?’ He made it sound like only an idiot wouldn’t know exactly what he was talking about. ‘I suppose,’ he said, rubbing his fingers together, ‘the question is, what’s inside?’
‘I don’t get it.’
Repro laughed, his eyes wide in disbelief.
‘I wasn’t the only lucky one today, my boy!’ he said. ‘You’re just as lucky you ran into me!’
‘Please,’ I urged, ‘just tell me what you’re talking about.’
‘Why would someone write the number of a safety deposit box on your ankle?’
‘The number of a what?’ I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. ‘Did you say “safety deposit box”?’
‘Sure did. That’s what that is. SDB stands for “safety deposit box”, and that’s the PIN following it. Whose is it? Obviously not yours!’ He cackled again with laughter.
The PIN! It had been with me, staring me in the face, all this time! Kelvin, who’d been told to kill me, not only spared my life but gave me access to Oriana’s treasures!
Kelvin whom I’d saved from a bas
hing. Kelvin who was sick of Oriana’s orders. Kelvin who’d informed the police of Oriana’s involvement in Gabbi’s kidnapping!
Did Kelvin hate her enough to betray her like this? Had he handed over her PIN to me in revenge? Or was it all part of an elaborate trap?
‘Are you sure?’ I asked.
‘Of course I’m sure. I have an SDB myself at Zürich Bank. That surprises you, doesn’t it?’
I jumped to my feet. ‘Repro! I have to go!’
He looked up at me, his big, warm eyes shining by the light of the lamp.
‘Repro, I could kiss you! Now how do I get out of here?’
75 days to go …
boges, winter! this is HUGE! I have the PIN!
Winter opened the door and her eyes searched mine, waiting for me to explain myself. She was wearing that oversized T-shirt she often wore to bed, and her hair was all over the place. Her eyes looked red, like she’d been rubbing them.
‘Well?’ she urged.
I sat down on the couch and lifted up my jeans, showing her my ankle.
Her mouth opened wide as she gasped. ‘S. D. B,’ Winter said slowly. ‘Safety Deposit Box—and then the PIN! No way! Kelvin? He must despise that woman as much as we do to betray her like that!’
‘I ran into Repro,’ I explained. ‘As soon as he saw it, he identified it. He has a safety deposit box too!’
‘So that’s it! We have the fingerprint and now we have the PIN!’
‘I have it all figured out,’ I said. ‘You’re going to impersonate Oriana.’
‘Me? You’re joking. I look about as much like Oriana de la Force as you look like that scrawny Griff Kirby.’
‘Don’t worry. We can fix that. Big, red hair, purple sunglasses. Bright lipstick. A stuffy suit. I know you can pull off that kind of staggering, leaning walk thing she does on her high heels.’
Winter went to her dressing-table drawer and pulled out a pair of huge sunglasses, putting them on. They hid the top half of her face.
‘See, you’re halfway there already! We’re going to get into Zürich Bank and we’re going to get back the Ormond Riddle and the Ormond Jewel!’
It was when Winter sat down beside me that I realised there were scrunched-up tissues all over the couch and floor.
‘Hayfever,’ she said.
‘Since when do you suffer from hayfever?’
‘Oh,’ she sighed. ‘I told you I can never get away with crying. It’s just … I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Mum and Dad’s car at the car yard. I snuck back there the other day, to have a closer look at the wreck, but Zombie Two was on patrol.’
‘We’ll do it together,’ I promised. ‘I’m here to help you solve your mysteries, too, remember?’
‘Thanks, Cal,’ she said, standing up and kissing me on the forehead.
We hadn’t been awake long but Winter had already pulled out some potential ‘Oriana’ clothes from her wardrobe. She skipped around and draped them over a chair, popping different pairs of shoes on the floor.
When we heard Boges puffing on the doorstep, we both looked at each other and wordlessly agreed. Winter disappeared into the bathroom, taking the clothes with her.
Boges knocked. ‘Wakey wakey, you two,’ he called.
‘Hang on!’ I said, waiting by the door for Winter to emerge. Her hand snaked around the wall, reaching for a lipstick from a small make-up bag.
‘Almost ready,’ she whispered.
She stepped out and did a little twirl. She was wearing a white blazer, a straight, knee-length black skirt, white high heels, a red scarf around her head to give the effect of Oriana’s hair, bright lipstick, and huge sunglasses.
I gave her the thumbs up and opened the door.
Boges stood in the doorway, his face white with shock.
Then he had a closer look at the tall red-head with the sunglasses and purple lipstick who stood in Winter’s flat, and cracked up laughing. ‘Awesome!’ he said.
I slapped him on the back. ‘That’s how we’re getting into Zürich Bank. That’s how we’re going to get the Riddle and the Jewel back! And this,’ I said, kicking my ankle out into his view, ‘is the magic PIN we thought we were missing!’
‘I’ve always wanted to impersonate a homicidal criminal lawyer,’ said Winter, posing with a pencil, sucking on it dramatically like it was one of Oriana’s cigarillos. She leaned back and almost fell over, balancing awkwardly in the high heels. ‘Oops!’ she said, kicking them off. ‘They were my mum’s—I’m not used to wearing heels!’
Boges and Winter watched the video from Zürich Bank on my phone. ‘The thing that really stands out,’ I said, ‘is how nobody gives them a second glance. They are obviously a very familiar sight at the bank.’
‘So I guess you’re about to tell me I’ll be playing the role of the sumo wrestler?’ Boges asked.
‘You won’t even have to shave your head!’ I pleaded.
Boges stood still, tolerating me while I began stuffing his football jersey with some of Winter’s shawls and scarves.
‘Now put your jacket back on,’ Winter ordered in a loud, intimidating voice—she was already impersonating Oriana.
With his jacket back on, over the padding, Boges looked seriously round. He checked himself out in the mirror.
‘Cool,’ I said. ‘Now all you have to do is borrow a suit jacket from one of your uncles, and put on your mirrored sunglasses.’
Boges looked thoughtful all of a sudden. ‘I think I can rig up a sound system that will keep us in contact with you. Leave it with me. Anyway, help me get this stuff out will you?’ he said, pulling a long cashmere scarf out from his sleeve. ‘There’s no way I can rock up to school like this.’
73 days to go …
‘You’ll be operating the two-way,’ explained Boges, as we went over the technical side of our bank bust plan. ‘I’ll wear this connector—a little earbud on an almost invisible cable that’ll tuck under my collar. You’ll be in radio contact with us throughout the bust, so if anything happens and we have to get out of there fast, you’ll know about it.’
Winter caught my eye. She was twirling her hair into a bun on top of her head, preparing to pull on an incredible red wig she’d picked up at a market stall.
‘This is the radio,’ Boges explained, handing me the larger of the two devices he was holding. ‘You can contact me and I can talk back to you, using this.’ He patted the radio connector that was now hidden inside his jacket pocket. ‘Switch it on, dude. Let’s test it.’
I walked outside, hurrying over to the furthest end of the flat roof. Above me the sky was blue and the city lay spread around, a faint haze above it. A crow squawked from a nearby television antenna. ‘Can you hear me, Boges?’
His voice came through the radio receiver in my hand. ‘Affirmative.’
‘And I have you, loud and clear, Boges.’
‘Let’s hope it works as well in the bank,’ said Boges, as I walked back inside the flat. ‘I’m just not sure what sort of interference we might get.’
We recited Oriana’s personal identification number over and over again until we all knew it off by heart, and we went over the layout of the bank, so that Boges and Winter could sweep in confidently, just like the people they were impersonating.
Next, we studied the footage I’d taken. Sumo had a way of holding his arms stiffly out by his sides, and Oriana’s unique lean-back style of walking in her stilettos wasn’t difficult for Winter to mimic, once she’d mastered the art of the heels.
‘How’s this?’ asked Boges, lumbering back and forth across the small flat, with his shirt stuffed and his arms held out in Sumo’s odd way.
Winter loped along beside him, her hips leading her.
‘Well!’ she screeched, again doing her best to impersonate Oriana. ‘You heard him! Tell us what you think! Don’t just stand there like a stunned mullet! Answer me!’
‘That’s creepily convincing!’ I admitted, squirming in my seat. She’d pinned the red hair up p
erfectly, just like Oriana, and had that ferocious, unrelenting look in her eyes.
‘What about me?’ Boges suddenly demanded, in his best Sumo impersonation. ‘I’m talking to you, buster!’
I grinned at my two deceptive friends. ‘You’ve both nailed it!’ I said proudly. I was starting to feel pretty good about our chances. ‘OK guys,’ I said, as Boges prepared to leave. ‘Let’s do it. Tomorrow.’
72 days to go …
I didn’t sleep very well on Winter’s couch. I woke up every couple of hours, tormenting myself with the ‘what ifs’. What if the radio failed? What if the fake fingerprint didn’t work? What if my friends were sprung?
Boges arrived, just as nervous and excited as me. Winter disappeared to get ready.
‘Wow!’ I said, when Winter emerged in full costume. She wore a tight purple suit, red patent-leather high heels, a huge pair of sunglasses with leopard-print frames, and a silver handbag. A delicate scarf was wrapped around her elaborately styled red hair.
‘Spitting image,’ added Boges, as he bulked up his own outfit. With his crew cut, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes, and his suit jacket bulging, he seemed to have grown taller as well.
‘I borrowed Uncle Vladi’s boots,’ he explained, showing them off.
‘The heels are almost as high as mine!’ scoffed Winter.
Boges dug into his school bag and pulled out the two-way radio. He popped the earpiece into his ear, pulled the transparent cable down under his collar, and slipped the small radio connector into the inside pocket of his suit coat.
Very carefully, with tweezers, he drew out a small object from a little plastic box. ‘And here’s the fingerprint,’ he announced.
Winter looked mesmerised. ‘It fits perfectly,’ she said, slipping it over her forefinger. It was almost invisible and covered her own fingertip completely.
October Page 5
