Boges looked at me nervously. ‘I’m sorry, dude.’
Then I read the printout. Now there was another addition to my confused feelings—fear and terror. I had to read it again, trying to control my racing emotions and mind.
‘What is it?’ Winter’s voice cut through my confusion. I handed her both pieces of paper.
‘Your mum and uncle are getting married? On Halloween?’ She raised her eyes to mine. ‘That’s just days away.’
‘Read the other bit—the printout.’
Winter started to read aloud. ‘I have information from a very reliable source that a contract killer will be at the chapel. During the wedding, the groom—’ She looked up at me and then at Boges. ‘Is this for real or somebody’s idea of a sick joke?’
‘Keep reading,’ I said. ‘Decide for yourself.’
‘The groom,’ she continued, ‘is the target. The groom?’ Winter repeated. ‘Rafe?’
‘I just called Leporello,’ said Boges. ‘He insisted that according to his underworld contacts, this is no idle threat. Rafe is in danger.’
The three of us looked at each other, exhausted by this news.
‘He has to be warned,’ I said.
‘I already did that,’ Boges said. ‘Told him I saw something about it online.’
‘And?’ asked Winter.
‘He just laughed it off. I told him about Leporello being a well-known police informant and your uncle said I’d been watching too much TV. He’s not taking it seriously at all. He insists nothing will frighten him out of marrying the woman he loves.’
Hearing those words made me feel so uncomfortable. I wanted Rafe to care about my mother, but I didn’t want him to marry her!
‘This is serious,’ I said. ‘Maybe he’ll listen to me.’
‘You’re kidding,’ said Boges. ‘Dude, get real. If he wouldn’t listen to me, what makes you think he’ll take any notice of you? He thinks you’re deranged.’
‘Why would Rafe be on the wrong end of a contract killer?’ I said aloud, half asking myself. I remembered the gun I’d found in his bedside table, and remembered how he’d almost been killed in the January break-in.
Rafe knew he had enemies.
I had to get out, on my own, and clear my head.
I walked along the beach, the waves roaring and crashing beside me. I hunched against the wind, my hands gripping the straps of my backpack, head down, fighting a sickening mixture of fear and anxiety.
Guilt gripped me as I knew it wasn’t only the fear of my uncle’s murder that was troubling me. Somewhere, deep in my heart, I still carried the hope of me and Mum and Gabbi living happily together again back in our house. It was this image that had kept me going all these months. It wasn’t just solving the mystery of Dad’s death and the DMO. The biggest reason I was trying to do this was so that I would have something to give to my family. Even without the threat of a contract killer, this wedding meant the end of my idea of home.
But if anything happened to Rafe, how could Mum survive another sudden loss? She’d lost Dad, then me, then she’d almost lost Gabbi, and now came a very serious threat to another member of our family. The crazy guy had been right. The Ormond Singularity had caused nothing but death and destruction to my family. I had to do something to save Rafe.
I pulled out my mobile and dialled my mum’s number. My hands were sweaty and hot.
‘Hello?’ she said.
Hearing her voice, a voice I hadn’t heard for so long, hit me hard. ‘Mum, it’s me.’
‘Cal? Cal, darling, is that you? Is that really you?’
I looked around as the lights along the esplanade suddenly came on, shining like stars in the grey light of the evening.
‘Where are you? Are you all right? Cal, I’ve been so worried. You don’t know what I’ve been through.’ In her voice was the strange tone I’d noticed before, somehow flat, not like the voice she’d once had, which sounded full of life.
‘I sent a photo to you—Ryan Spencer. And I asked you a question.’
‘Ryan?’ She asked, in a shaky voice. ‘A photo of Ryan? Who’s that?’
‘Ryan Spencer. I sent you his bus pass … He’s the boy who looks identical to me.’
‘Identical?’ My mum gasped, then the phone line fell silent.
‘You there?’ I asked. ‘Did you get the bus pass?’
‘What bus pass?’
She was stonewalling me. I didn’t have time for this just now. I went straight ahead with what was on my mind.
‘I just heard the news,’ I said. ‘That you’re marrying Rafe.’
‘Come home, Cal. Hand yourself in and we can talk about it.’
‘I don’t want you to marry him, but that’s not it. I’m really worried about Rafe. Someone I know—a reliable informant—has told me that Rafe’s life is in danger. That someone will make an attempt to kill him at the wedding.’
My mum gasped again.
‘You mustn’t go ahead with the wedding,’ I pleaded. ‘You mustn’t go to the chapel. Please listen to me for a change.’
The phone line was silent again.
‘Mum?’ I asked.
This time she’d hung up on me.
I slumped against a rocky ledge. She must have thought I was calling just to stir trouble. The pain in my chest was overwhelming. I let my head fall between my knees and closed my eyes.
You have to stop them, said a voice in my head, as a seagull squawked above me.
I didn’t have much time. A sniper needs a nest—a firing platform. I had to check out Chapel-by-the-Sea. I had to find the sniper’s firing platform.
67 days to go …
I headed off for Chapel-by-the-Sea, and on the way called Boges. ‘Boges, ages ago you were working on something and you wouldn’t tell me about it—something about invisibility?’
‘It’s still in the development stage. I haven’t worked on it for a while. You’re talking about my Disappearing Dust?’
‘That’s the one. Tell me about it.’
‘It’s a combination of chemicals, stored separately in a large capsule, but with the help of a little ignition device they come into contact and explode, creating a dense, impenetrable smoke-screen. It works like a smoke grenade except it’s a whole lot smaller and easier to hide.’
‘That’s what I need. I need to be invisible and I need to create a diversion.’
‘Dude, I don’t know how safe it is. I’m still working on the right amount of explosive for the detonation.’
‘I have to stop the wedding,’ I said. ‘I have to save Rafe from the hitman. Somehow.’
‘The detonator for Disappearing Dust is still very, very experimental.’ Boges argued. ‘I haven’t tested it. I’ve been working on the Caesar shift code-breaker.’
‘Boges, I have no choice. I need it. Please get it ready. The code-breaker will just have to wait.’
Chapel-by-the-Sea was a small, old-fashioned timber building famous for having the bell of a shipwreck in its tower. It sat on the headland surrounded by national park.
I’d been past it heaps of times whenever we’d driven with Mum and Dad along the coast. Once we’d even stopped there, and wandered inside the historic church, Gabbi and I climbing up into the choir loft to look down from high.
By the time I got there it was quite dark. I’d never broken into a church before and I wondered how I was going to do it until I noticed that the door was wide open. Cautiously, I moved inside. A woman was arranging flowers in vases on the altar, and she turned as I came in.
‘I have to lock up in a few minutes,’ she said.
‘That’s OK,’ I answered. ‘I won’t be staying long. I have a school project,’ I said quickly, whipping out a notebook and pencil, ‘On historical church sites in my area.’
She didn’t look completely convinced. ‘You only have a few minutes before I lock up,’ she warned, turning back to her work.
I looked around the church. There were some places to hide—shadowy niches with
statues in them, the small side altar that was partly screened off. But it was much more likely the contract killer would just mingle with the guests, do the job, and escape quickly through the shocked congregation.
I turned around and looked behind me and up to the choir loft. The killer might wait up there, hidden behind the organ, only stepping forward to make the vital shot.
How was I going to prevent this from happening? And get out of there alive myself?
63 days to go …
‘So the big day’s tomorrow,’ said Winter, as the three of us sat around, checking out the combat creations Boges had brought over for me.
‘Tomorrow night, actually,’ Boges corrected. ‘It’s an evening ceremony. It doesn’t start until eight. There aren’t many people going, but we were invited,’ he said, explaining to me. ‘Me, Mum and Gran. I figured we should go—it would be good for you to have me there—so I can keep an eye on Gabbi and your mum. Make sure they don’t get caught in the crossfire.’
‘I could come, too,’ said Winter. ‘I have this cream-coloured hat that I could wear—it covers half my face—so no-one will know who I am.’
‘It’s too dangerous, Winter,’ I said. ‘I think it’s too risky at this stage for you to be recognised by someone. Who knows who’ll be there. And you have your own family mystery to concentrate on.’
‘That doesn’t mean I want to quit helping you.’
‘I know, but I’ll feel better knowing I have one less person to worry about, OK?’
Boges handed me two objects cased in light metal, each about the size of a small carton of milk. ‘Dude, please be very careful with these. I haven’t completely figured out the explosive charge. If one went off near or against you, you could be badly injured. The idea is to throw them—like a grenade—and ideally not into anyone’s lap. On impact, the chemicals combine and combust. The smoke is dense and almost instantaneous and covers a large area quickly. So you throw and you run—in the opposite direction, otherwise you’ll get caught up in it too and you won’t have a clue where you are. Or where anybody else is. Got that?’
I took them carefully from him and put them inside my backpack.
‘And take this as well. It’s another thing I have in the development stage—Special FX. I’m just not sure how much magnesium it needs. It works on similar principles as the Disappearing Dust, but this one makes a bit of a show with a big bang, big flame up and big smoke, but it won’t hurt anyone. It might come in handy.’
62 days to go …
Wearing a pair of grey school pants and a blazer that I’d picked up, I snuck into the chapel. The place was open, but empty. After spending fifteen minutes searching every possible hiding place, I was sure that the contract killer wasn’t there—yet. I crept to the upstairs loft and crouched down beside the organ.
This month had been so full-on, so much had happened, that it felt like a year in itself. My brain was overloading with information. And now I was hiding out in a chapel, waiting for a contract killer to interrupt a wedding between my mum and my uncle! I took a few deep breaths and tried to concentrate on what I had to do.
Marjorie and Graham, the next-door neighbours from our old house in Richmond, were the first guests to arrive, bringing with them an elaborate sound system, and small bouquets that they hung on the ends of each pew. From my position, high up in the back of the church, I watched them as they set up the speakers. Good—that meant no organist.
Eventually guests started drifting in and taking their seats. There weren’t too many, and most of them I didn’t recognise, apart from a few people from Mum’s old work. Boges walked in with his mum and his gran on either arm. He led them towards the front, to the side of the second row. That was the perfect spot to stay out of harm’s way, but to be close enough to help my mum and sister, if they needed it.
Soon everyone was settled, waiting for the bridal pair and Gabbi to turn up. All the time, my eyes were scanning the guests, constantly searching for something—anything—that seemed out of place. Wondering if I’d make it in time to stop someone raising their arm and taking aim.
As I looked along the first three rows of people, everyone looked normal, just like guests at a wedding should. They were seated quietly, occasionally turning to each other to say something in a whisper. How would I know what a contract killer looked like anyway? No doubt they’d have mastered the art of blending in to any group.
They were really late. Everyone in the chapel was getting edgy, and the killer must have been amongst them.
Rafe suddenly walked up the aisle to the altar, alone, wearing a dark suit which I swear was one of my dad’s. I visualised a small, red target on his head. He nodded to Marjorie, who was on standby, near the sound system. The sound of the famous wedding march music reverberated through the chapel as I clutched the canisters of Disappearing Dust and Special FX.
I peered over the top of the railing around the choir loft, and saw Mum walking up the aisle. She looked really thin and frail, and was wearing a pale blue dress that hung limply on her, accentuating her tiny frame. Gabbi held Mum’s hand, and was wearing a ring of white flowers on top of her head that she kept adjusting.
Should I throw one now? I hesitated. I didn’t want to make my move too late, but I also didn’t want to do it prematurely.
As they approached the altar where the celebrant—a friendly-looking woman in a navy dress—waited, Gabbi pulled away sideways and slid into a pew and I saw Marjorie put an arm around her.
What if, I thought, I’m too late, and the contract killer fires his weapon and Rafe falls down—or worse—the killer misses, taking down Mum instead?
Rafe and Mum stood in front of the celebrant near the altar, looking at each other from time to time. The image of them together was making me feel dizzy. I had to focus.
A guy in a suit stood up and joined them, holding a cushion with a couple of wedding rings on it.
Now everyone was sitting still, listening to the words of the celebrant. She lifted her head and smiled as she spoke, looking around at the small group in front of her.
‘And now,’ she said, ‘I’m required to ask—’ she cleared her throat and in a louder voice said, ‘if any of you gathered here before me this evening know of any reason why these two persons should not be joined together in holy matrimony, please speak now.’
From nowhere, a man, dressed in a long coat and a hat that hid his face from my view, stepped out of the shadows. Beneath me, this stranger reached in under his coat.
I sprang up and gripped the first capsule of Disappearing Dust in my fist. ‘Everyone! Look out! There’s a gunman in the church!’
The stranger held a weapon in his hand.
I started racing down the stairs, and hurled the first capsule down into the body of the chapel. A massive cloud of thick, brown smoke erupted. I continued down the staircase, toward the mushrooming cloud.
As I hit the last step and jumped onto the floor, I heard my mum cry above the panicked screams of the fleeing guests. ‘Cal! That’s my son! Cal, where are you?’
I caught a glimpse of Boges briefly looking up in my direction. He’d already pushed his mum and gran out the door, and he had Gabbi’s hand gripped in his.
People were screaming, and tripping over each other as they fought their way out.
Then the dense smoke took over and hid everything from my view. I had no idea where the gunman was. I hoped he couldn’t line up a shot under these conditions.
‘It’s Ormond! He’s here! He’s trying to kill his family!’ I heard someone cry.
I yelled out again. ‘Everyone out of this church! There’s a killer on the premises! Leave now!’
I thought I saw the contract killer’s long coat swirling in the smoke near me, heading for the exit. Immediately, I lobbed the second capsule of Disappearing Dust up into the loft.
I threw myself out the back door just before the choir loft and the whole of the back wall of the chapel exploded in a supernova of flame and smoke.
Boges had warned me it wasn’t quite ready, and he was right about that!
From what I could make out, the chapel had now emptied. I bolted for the door and just made it outside as the whole back of the chapel wall collapsed. The timber side walls and parts of the ceiling caught alight, flames and sparks spiralled up in thick plumes of smoke, the back of the roof sagging at an angle, threatening to crash to the ground.
Guests were running clear of the burning building towards their cars, and safety. Among them I spotted Mum and Rafe stumbling along, followed by the celebrant. There was no sign of the gunman.
I had to get away. I’d been identified and already I could hear the sirens. From the direction of the city came the staccato whoomp, whoomp, whoomp of a helicopter.
Behind me, the fire burned furiously, crackling and spitting, with the occasional loud explosion as old timber and paint went up.
As I raced away, I took in my surroundings. Ahead there were suburban streets with houses on both sides and cars parked along the tree-lined kerbs. I needed to get away from this area. There were too many people—too many witnesses. I hoisted my backpack higher on my shoulders, put my head down and started charging along the footpath, glad that the night had well and truly closed in. People emerged from their houses to look back past me to the burning chapel that was lighting up the sky.
The sounds of the helicopter came closer. I was suddenly blinded by a brilliant light.
Desperately I ran faster, trying to get past the circle of light that fell on top of me. I ran and ran, but no matter which way I ducked and weaved, so did the helicopter. It kept right on top of me, following me with its spotlight. Trying to run from it was like trying to shake a shadow—impossible.
I raced under a tree and with eyes that were still dazzled, I saw what lay ahead of me. A huge semicircle of SWAT officers with shields and batons, were charging down the road, coming straight at me.
October Page 11
