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October Page 9

by Gabrielle Lord


  Sumo sat beside her, fiddling with Oriana’s silver cachous box, picking it up and dropping it back onto the table. There was no sign of Kelvin.

  Oriana snapped, snatching the box from Sumo, making him jump.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Boges, suddenly alarmed.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Isn’t that Sheldrake Rathbone,’ he added in surprise, ‘sitting next to Sligo like he’s his right-hand man?’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ I said, squinting at the screen. But then, sure enough, the slimy solicitor came into focus, wearing a flower in his buttonhole and a smirk on his face. ‘They must be working together! What a creep! I should have known he was in deeper than he let on!’

  At that moment, Sligo handed Rathbone a wooden box, like a cigar case. There were too many voices overlapping and I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Just how involved was Rathbone?

  ‘Did he just say something?’ I asked.

  ‘Patience, my friend,’ said Boges. ‘At this stage, they’re all just making small talk. They’ll settle down in a minute. Hang on,’ said Boges, sounding even more shocked at someone’s presence. ‘Isn’t that Murray Durham sitting there? Murray “Toecutter” Durham?’

  ‘So it is,’ I said, cringing. ‘He doesn’t look too healthy. And he’s with his bodyguard—the guy who lives in the house Winter and I broke into to get back her locket!’

  The men at the table were all dressed in suits, but there was no hiding the tattoos that snaked up their necks, or the scars that disfigured their hands—these guys weren’t as clean cut as they hoped to appear.

  ‘I can’t believe the crims that are here,’ said Boges, ‘all gathered in one spot. The hornets’ nest. And here we are, spying on them, hiding in the pool shed out the back!’ he said with an uncomfortable laugh.

  For a while, all we heard were the sounds of people eating and drinking and the occasional laugh, but none of this came from Sligo, Oriana or Rathbone. Whenever Winter’s camera panned to their faces, they looked very unhappy.

  ‘Winter’s in a really good spot,’ I said, noticing how she’d joined the guests at the table now, and had positioned herself in such a way that we had most of Sligo on screen and about three-quarters of Oriana. ‘She’s good and close to the two people we’re most interested in. The two deadly enemies having a meal together. I just hope she’s sitting close enough for us to hear them talking. If Sligo’s planning some massacre, like Al Capone,’ I said, ‘we’ll have it all on video …’

  Oriana’s diamond earrings flashed as she moved to eat from her steaming plate. Sligo’s bald head moved from left to right as he spoke to his sidekicks. Then he leaned closer, towards Oriana, who was speaking to him.

  Everyone seemed to hush all of a sudden. Boges and I looked at each other with excitement because we could hear every word.

  ‘I’m willing to do a deal with you, Vulkan,’ she said. ‘I’m willing to work with you. We both want the same thing. Together, we’d make a brilliant team. I must say, although I was absolutely livid at first, I was impressed with the way you did it. I didn’t realise you were so intelligent. Hiring actors to impersonate me and my bodyguard—what a riot! I’ve been underestimating you all these years.’

  Sligo pulled back, a frown on his face. His green cravat puffed up like a pillow under his double chin. He put down his wine. ‘Hiring what?’

  Boges and I exchanged a split-second glance before returning, captivated, to the screen.

  ‘One day,’ said Oriana, ‘you’ll have to tell me how you hacked my fingerprint. But tell me now, how on earth did you obtain my PIN?’

  From the look on Sligo’s face, it was obvious that he thought Oriana had lost the plot.

  Boges and I looked at each other open-mouthed. ‘She has no idea it was us!’ I said. ‘I’m not even on her radar!’

  ‘Oriana, my dear,’ said Sligo, trying his best to remain composed. ‘What are you talking about?’ His pouchy face compressed in an angry frown. ‘What actors? Impersonating who? PIN? Hacking? What absurd allegations are you making now? Have you gone completely barking mad?’

  ‘Vulkan, darling, there’s no use denying it. I viewed the bank’s security tapes myself. They were quite convincing. Although I’d never use that shade of lipstick.’

  ‘Lipstick? I’m trying to make a deal here with you, and you’re raving on about actors and lipstick! Am I wasting my time? Why must you continue to be so—’ he paused, searching for the right word, ‘—difficult?’

  ‘Difficult?’ shrieked Oriana. ‘I’m being difficult? What game are you playing now, Vulkan? I should have known better about coming here tonight! You always were impossible, and you haven’t changed!’ She banged down her glass on the table, sending red wine splashing all over the tablecloth like blood splatter. Sumo leaned in to mop some of it up with a napkin, but Oriana smacked his hand out of the way. ‘Leave that, Cyril,’ she ordered.

  The camera shifted up for a second, like Winter was getting out of her seat.

  ‘Sit down,’ said Sligo, and the camera returned to its former position. He turned again to Oriana. ‘I could say the same thing about you, my dear. You’re being impossible right now.’

  ‘Don’t you “my dear” me! Don’t patronise me, just because you have the upper hand.’ Oriana’s voice became coarser—even more threatening. ‘I know a lot about you, Vulkan Sligo. A lot,’ she said, exaggerating her point with a wide gesture. ‘I could do you a lot of damage. People talk, Vulkan. I know what you’re really like. That cravat can’t cover up the blood you have on your hands.’

  Sligo pounded his fist on the table and everyone fell silent. ‘How dare you accuse me! You don’t know what you’re talking about!’ he said, his face reddening with every word.

  ‘I’m a businesswoman,’ Oriana continued, unwavering. ‘I know you didn’t throw this banquet for my pleasure. You maintain the stronger position at the moment, I am aware of that. I thought I had secured … well, I believed I had secured the goods in question, but then you just came along and helped yourself to them.’

  ‘Oriana, who are you trying to fool here?’ interrupted Sligo’s angry voice. ‘I know you have the damn things. Quit the act! That’s why I invited you here tonight—so that we could come to some sort of arrangement. Something that would benefit both of us. I wouldn’t like any injury to befall you, but I’m afraid that could happen if you don’t cooperate with me.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’ Oriana’s voice was razor sharp.

  Boges frowned. ‘What’s going on? Why is Sligo playing hard to get?’

  ‘The only thing that would be beneficial to me right now,’ said Oriana, ‘would be for you to acknowledge that you stole the Riddle and Jewel from me—’

  ‘You stole them from me, you thieving, lying witch!’

  I grabbed Boges. ‘Man, this is unbelievable! She thinks he has them—’

  ‘—and he thinks she has them!’ Boges finished. ‘Dude, what a head-spin! And if we don’t have them, then who the heck does?’

  This was intense! Someone else was involved! Someone we didn’t even know about! A million crazy possibilities whirled through my mind.

  Back on the laptop screen, an expressionless man in a suit suddenly walked up behind Sligo, leaned down and whispered something in his ear. I could just make out Rathbone, beside him, squirming in as Sligo relayed the information to him. Sligo’s brow was covered in sweat. Suddenly he stood up and charged over to Oriana, and practically dragged her out of her chair.

  Sumo pounced, trying to tear Sligo off her.

  ‘This room is bugged!’ Sligo screamed, finally releasing his grip from Oriana. ‘My chief of security has just informed me that someone is wearing a wire!’ With that, he swung around to Red Singlet, seizing him by the shoulder. ‘Bruno! Search the place! Everyone up! This banquet is over!’ He swung round to Oriana once more. ‘If you’ve bugged my house—’

  ‘Me? Bugging this function? It’s not me who’s done t
his!’

  All of a sudden the images on the screen went berserk, swinging wildly from side to side, before the screen on Boges’s laptop went black.

  Silence.

  ‘Winter!’ I said to Boges. ‘What if someone realises she’s the leak?’

  ‘I don’t know, dude! This is not good!’

  Impulsively I opened the shed door, about to run out to her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Boges hissed, grabbing my arm and jerking me back inside. ‘It’s no use going and getting the two of us caught as well!’ The shouts from the house were audible now, even from where we were in the shed. ‘Sit down!’ Boges yelled at me. ‘We just have to wait it out! There’s nothing we can do right now. Everyone’s leaving—this would be the worst time for us to go out.’

  It took quite a while, but as soon as the noise from the house had settled back down, the two of us fled the shed, ran through the back gate, pounded down the lane and around the corner to the main road.

  We ducked down at the sight of Oriana and Sumo on the street being hustled by security into the dark blue Mercedes. Sumo’s shirt had been ripped open—they must have searched him for a wire. The car doors slammed, then the Mercedes accelerated noisily and sped away.

  Now the yard and the street outside were empty. The other guests must have exited pretty quickly. There was no sign of Sligo himself. Or of Winter.

  I didn’t know what to do. If Winter had been discovered, spying on two of the biggest criminals in the city … Dread and horror seized me as I thought of the filling oil tank, and her trapped inside it.

  With Boges beside me I ran across the road, pulling my hoodie around my face, headed for Sharkey’s car. Something caught my eye on the footpath and I stopped to pick it up.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Boges, skidding to a halt.

  I showed him Winter’s bead necklace. It was broken, some of the beads were missing, but it was still threaded with the fine wire from the spycam. The tiny lens remained in place but the leads and the battery were missing. Had Winter managed to ditch everything herself or had Sligo ripped the spycam and its battery from her neck?

  ‘Over here, Cal! Boges!’

  Ahead, Winter leaned out of the back of Sharkey’s car and waved. ‘Quick! Jump in!’

  The two of us dived in and Sharkey slammed the accelerator, speeding us out of there. It was a tangle of bodies as the car seemed to accelerate from zero to one hundred in a nanosecond.

  ‘You’re OK!’ I said, straightening up in the back seat beside Winter, while Boges climbed over the centre console and into the front.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said, buckling her seat-belt. ‘Sligo’s so furious he didn’t even notice me slipping away. Nelson, can you please take us to my place?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ said Sharkey. ‘Boys, you OK?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, we’re fine,’ said Boges. ‘Awesome job, Winter. The spycam worked perfectly.’

  Winter gasped, clutching at her chest. ‘It’s gone!’

  ‘Here,’ I said, showing her the broken string of beads I picked up from the yard.

  ‘Thank goodness I didn’t leave that behind. You can have this back,’ she said, reaching round behind her skirt and peeling the battery pack off her skin, before handing it to Boges.

  ‘So what happened?’ I asked. ‘Last thing we saw and heard was Sligo yelling that the place was bugged, then the camera started doing somersaults.’

  ‘It was chaotic,’ she said. ‘I was sweating bullets, thinking they’d somehow trace it to me. I sure didn’t want to be found spying on my—’ she spat the words out, ‘—my great benefactor! But everything was so wild that it gave me the perfect opportunity to disappear upstairs.’

  ‘To Sligo’s office?’

  ‘Yep, Sligo’s office. So did you hear?’ she said, and I wondered if she was changing the subject on purpose. ‘Sligo doesn’t have the Jewel or the Riddle! Neither of them do! Can you believe it?’

  ‘Wow,’ said Sharkey. ‘Someone’s outsmarted them both. But who?’

  ‘We don’t know.’ I wound down the window for some fresh air. ‘My money’s on Sheldrake Rathbone.’ Sharkey’s eyes questioned me in the rear-vision mirror. ‘Rathbone was there,’ I explained. ‘Sitting next to Sligo like he was his advisor.’

  ‘It’s a good guess,’ Boges said, zipping up his bag. ‘Rathbone has the means. He also has access to a lot of information. He could have done the switch at his brother’s undertaking business—taken the Riddle and the Jewel out of Cal’s backpack and substituted the fakes to be collected by Oriana’s team. She was fooled—she thought she had the real things stolen out of the bank. Remember, only a few people know what they actually look like.’

  Inside Winter’s flat, the two of us sat side by side on the couch. Sharkey was dropping Boges home.

  ‘Our next move has to be a search through Rathbone’s place,’ I said.

  ‘Winter?’ I asked, when she didn’t reply. ‘Have you fallen asleep on me?’ I gave her a little nudge.

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she said, stretching out, ‘it’s just been a long day. You were talking about Rathbone, yes. Search his home or office?’

  ‘Both. Although I’m pretty sure we won’t find anything buried in the yard after springing him red-handed that night. Maybe we should try the office first.’

  ‘That’s not going to be easy. I could always help you with Sligo’s premises, but getting into a solicitor’s office isn’t going to be easy. Especially when it’s in the Pacific Tower building.’

  I leaned back, thinking and sipping hot chocolate. ‘Maybe I could approach him in a straightforward kind of way,’ I said. ‘Tell him I want to turn myself in—come clean about everything—that I’m sick of life on the run, and need his help.’

  ‘But Cal, if he’s the one who has the Riddle and the Jewel, he doesn’t need you. What can he gain from meeting you?’

  I shook my head. ‘There are still some things that he doesn’t have, and that he needs to know about the DMO. Like the missing two lines of the Riddle, like the link to the Keeper of Rare Books at Trinity College in Dublin. He doesn’t have the real drawings and he doesn’t know about the transparency with G’managh and Kilfane on it. I can use those to keep him interested.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘So were you worried about me?’ she asked. ‘When you and Boges were hiding out in the shed.’

  I nodded. ‘Of course. We both were.’

  ‘That’s nice of you,’ she said, playing with a loose thread on one of her cushions. ‘So nice.’

  ‘Are you OK, Winter? You sound a bit funny or something. What is it? What’s on your mind?’

  ‘Oh,’ she groaned, snapping the thread and tossing the cushion aside. ‘It’s this.’

  She pulled a small writing pad out of her shoulder bag and threw it on the table in front of me. It landed with a clap. ‘I found it at the bottom of one of Sligo’s office drawers.’

  I picked it up and looked at the first page of the pad. It was blank.

  ‘Go to the end of it,’ she said. ‘The last three or four pages.’

  I did what she said and found that the last three pages were covered in signatures; the same signature, repeated over and over.

  I looked up at her, puzzled. ‘Your dad?’

  She nodded. ‘His surname was originally “Fong” but he changed it to Frey when he moved to this country. Charles G. Frey.’

  I carefully examined the signatures. The first few were shakier than the later ones. I looked into Winter’s dark, troubled eyes.

  ‘So it wasn’t your dad practising his signature, it was Sligo.’

  ‘Exactly,’ she said, solemnly.

  ‘And there’s only one reason why Sligo would have practised your dad’s signature,’ I said.

  ‘Forgery,’ she said.

  ‘Forgery,’ I repeated.

  Winter stared blankly at the floor. Everything seemed darker all of a sudden, like the moment immediately after a candle’s blown out. I w
anted to say something to her—something that would make her feel better—but nothing would come to me.

  Finally she pulled her legs up onto the couch, curled up, closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  68 days to go …

  ‘Rathbone will be out of the office between twelve and two today,’ Winter announced as she shook me awake. After she’d fallen asleep on the couch last night, I’d draped a blanket over her and crawled into her bed. It was funny waking up and looking at the flat from another perspective.

  ‘How do you know that?’ I asked as I rubbed my eyes.

  ‘Easy. His receptionist just told me. I rang his office to make an “urgent appointment” with him, and this super-chatty lady picked up the phone and went on to tell me how he was in this morning but he’d be ducking out for a meeting at twelve, and then he’d be back at two, but wouldn’t be able to see anyone because he had a bunch of conference calls to take with—wait for it—his associates who are currently interstate!’ Winter paused to take in an exasperated breath. ‘Cal, the office is practically empty!’

  ‘This is too good,’ I said, climbing out of bed. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Half-past nine. Get ready, and let’s go.’

  Rathbone trotted out of the building and hailed a taxi around a quarter to twelve. As soon as he was gone, Winter and I made our way inside and up the lift to level five. Winter told me to stay behind for a minute while she took care of the receptionist. I had no idea what she was planning as a distraction, but had to trust her. She turned and winked at me as she approached the glass doors of suite two.

  My hands were sweaty and the parcel I was carrying, again in an effort to look like a courier, felt warm and awkward. I fumbled with my phone as I waited, keeping my head low.

  There were only two businesses on level five, an accounting firm on the left, and Rathbone & Associates on the right. In the foyer between the two, in front of the lift, was a sleek, black leather lounge. I put the package down beside it, then bent down, pretending to tie my shoe, while I peered through to the reception area. Winter was talking to the woman behind the counter. From the large nameplate on the reception desk I could just make out her name as Dorothy Noonan.

 

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