by Ailsa Wild
‘That would be bad,’ Jessie says.
I tick things off on my fingers. ‘The police won’t talk to us, and we can’t call Mr Hinkenbushel or interrupt Alice’s lecture. It’s bad Human Rights to lock them up for too long.’ I shrug. ‘I don’t know what we can do.’
Jessie stops sucking her snake’s tail. ‘What we need,’ she says, ‘is an expert.’
We all look at each other hopelessly. We don’t have an expert.
‘I’ve got it!’ Vee says. ‘We need to talk to the zookeeper. She’s an expert.’
Perfect. I think about the zookeeper’s neat hair and tucked-in shirt and the way she smiled on the video at the museum. She’s perfect.
Luckily Vee has been playing a game on Red Sneakers’ phone and the screen hasn’t locked yet. Jessie searches the internet for the zoo number and calls it.
‘Hello,’ she says, in her best grown-up voice. ‘My name is Jessie and I’m doing a project on animal smuggling. We visited the zoo three days ago and listened to a fascinating talk by a zookeeper –’ she pauses. ‘Oh, she’s right there? Could I please speak with her?’
Jessie is so good at this kind of thing. She even looks like a grown-up when she talks like this.
‘I believe you’re the expert I need,’ Jessie says into the phone. ‘I want help with a silver suitcase of black cockatoo samples.’
There’s a pause and Jessie looks confused.
She moves the phone away from her mouth and whispers to us. ‘She’s just going into another room. She said I shouldn’t call her at the zoo.’
Then she listens to the phone. ‘Ummm. OK. I’m at Melbourne University. The biology building.’ She runs to the lab door and reads a number off the other side of it. She listens and then frowns. ‘No, there’s no-one else here. Just –’
The zookeeper says something else.
‘Right away?’ Jessie asks. ‘OK, see you soon.’
She hangs up. ‘The zookeeper is coming here now. She didn’t even give me the chance to talk. She sounded really strange.’ Jessie’s face is crinkled with worry.
‘At least she’ll be able to tell us if the Dodgies are telling the truth.’
We wait for twenty-six minutes. I know because I keep checking on Red Sneakers’ phone, partly to keep the screen unlocked and partly because there’s nothing else to do. I sit on the bench next to the silver suitcases, swinging my legs.
The Dodgies are talking quietly and I can hear the jelly-snake packet rattling. Vee has found a roly-spinny chair and is doing tricks across the room.
Then there’s a knock on the lab door.
Jessie opens it and the zookeeper stands on the other side. Her mouth and eyes are wide open like she’s completely surprised. She’s clutching another silver suitcase, only this one is quite big, and she’s staring at Jessie.
‘Who are you?’ the zookeeper asks. ‘Why did we change transfer location? Where’s –’ She looks around the room. Her eyes get wider and wider as she sees me sitting on the bench and Vee spinning on the roly chair. ‘But you’re just kids! You’re not –’
Some grown-ups don’t think kids can do anything.
‘We called you ourselves,’ I say. ‘We need you to be our animal-smuggling expert. We’ve caught some criminals. At least, we think they’re criminals. We need you to tell us if they’re lying.’
The zookeeper looks down the corridor. She looks like she’s trying to decide whether to come in, or run away.
‘Um. Criminals?’ she asks.
‘Yes, we’ve imprisoned them here,’ Vee says, pushing away from a table towards the storeroom door and letting her roly chair bang into it.
‘Oi, what’s going on?’ Red Sneakers asks.
‘Don’t you think the game’s over by now?’ Growly Voice asks. ‘We really don’t have very much time.’
‘See,’ Vee says. ‘They’re fine. We gave them their Human Rights.’
‘The thing is,’ I explain, ‘the police didn’t believe us when we called them, so we needed an expert.’
‘The police didn’t believe you?’ the zookeeper looks slightly happier and takes a step into the room. ‘So no cops are coming?’ she asks.
I shake my head.
The zookeeper’s silver suitcase looks pretty heavy. She puts it down on the ground by her feet. ‘And what did you want to know about animal smuggling?’ she asks.
‘Well,’ I start, waving at the storeroom door, ‘we think the Dodgy Duo are pretending to chase animal smugglers as a cover for other criminal activities, so we locked them in.’
She nods and smiles politely, like grown-ups do when they don’t believe you but they’re just playing along.
Vee rolls her chair closer to the zookeeper and her silver suitcase.
The zookeeper wrinkles her face at me, looking confused. She steps further into the lab, leaving Vee sitting next to her silver suitcase.
‘You think scientists are chasing animal smugglers as a cover for illegal activities?’
‘Well no, they’re not really scientists. I mean, yes, but –’ Now I’m confused. I’ve forgotten Jessie’s explanation about DNA matching. Jessie starts to talk her special science gibberish and Vee hauls the zookeeper’s silver suitcase onto her lap. She starts spinning and the light glitters on the shiny surface.
Just then, I hear a new set of footsteps coming up the corridor towards us. We fall silent and look over at the door.
Jessie whispers, ‘Is someone coming in here?’
The footsteps get closer and closer.
Then a familiar, cranky voice calls up the corridor, ‘I need that DNA evidence now! More cockatoo shipments are being made every day!’
It’s Mr Hinkenbushel. He stops in the doorway and stares into the room.
We stare back at him. I’m sitting on the bench with the zookeeper beside me. Vee is caught mid-spin with the silver suitcase on her knees. Jessie stands by the storeroom door, which suddenly shakes with pounding knocks.
‘What is going on?’ Mr Hinkenbushel asks, staring at the door. Then he looks more closely at the zookeeper. ‘You?’ he asks. ‘What are you doing here?’
The zookeeper turns pale. She looks as though she’s been turned to stone.
But I don’t really care about the zookeeper. ‘Mr Hinkenbushel,’ I ask, ‘are the Dodgy Duo really scientists, or are you investigating them for a crime?’
‘Kids!’ Mr Hinkenbushel throws his cranky arms in the air. ‘Can’t I ever get away from you three? What are you talking about? Who are the Dodgy Duo? Where are Steve and Amy?’
There’s another round of knocks from the storeroom.
‘We’re in here!’ calls Red Sneakers.
‘Let us out!’ shouts Growly Voice.
‘Amy?’ Mr Hinkenbushel asks. ‘Steve? Where’s my DNA evidence, and why are you locked up? This is the last time the police form a partnership with Melbourne University on a case.’
He runs to the door and unbolts it.
The Dodgies appear, looking a bit red-faced.
‘Thank you, Mr Hinkenbushel,’ Red Sneakers says, shaking his hand.
‘We would have determined if you had a match, sir,’ says Growly Voice, ‘but these truth-seeking heroes locked us up.’
‘But they weren’t cruel,’ Red Sneakers crinkles the jelly-snake packet. ‘They gave us our Human Rights.’
The Partnership was between the Dodgies and the police! They were working for Mr Hinkenbushel. I should have realised Mr Hinkenbushel doesn’t just shout at the Bad Guys. Mr Hinkenbushel shouts at everybody. Back when I spoke to him in the lift, he wasn’t talking about needing evidence to arrest the Dodgies. He was talking about the Dodgies getting evidence so he could arrest the cockatoo smugglers!
Jessie sidles up next to me. ‘I told you they were real scientists,’ she says.
‘Well,’ I shrug, ‘they should wear lab coats. Otherwise they’ll keep confusing people.’ But secretly I feel bad for judging them on their looks.
The zookeep
er says brightly, ‘I really should be going!’ She rushes back to Vee and tries to snatch the suitcase off her lap. But Vee holds on tight, so when the zookeeper pulls on the suitcase, she gets bashed in the shins with the roly chair. She slips over backwards and lands with a bump on the floor.
‘You’re not going anywhere, cockatoo smuggler!’ Mr Hinkenbushel shouts at the zookeeper.
‘You don’t have evidence!’ the zookeeper says, scooting backwards on her bottom. ‘You can’t prove anything!’
‘I’ve got an arrest warrant,’ Mr Hinkenbushel declares, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. ‘And if these incompetent scientists can finally do their job, I’ll have evidence any day now.’
The zookeeper looks afraid.
‘You’re under arrest for smuggling black cockatoos out of Australia,’ Mr Hinkenbushel says.
I suddenly realise what Mr Hinkenbushel is saying. The zookeeper! The zookeeper is the cockatoo smuggler!
Then I see that the zookeeper isn’t looking at Mr Hinkenbushel at all. Her eyes are on Vee, who’s fiddling with the clasps on the suitcase.
‘No!’ the zookeeper calls to Vee. ‘Don’t open that case! I didn’t have time to –’
The case makes a satisfying click and Vee says, ‘Got it!’
She throws open the lid.
Three black cockatoos leap from the suitcase, flapping their wings and screaming. Black feathers fly everywhere.
‘I didn’t have time to boost their sedative,’ the zookeeper finishes.
Jessie, thinking quickly, runs for the door and slams it closed so the cockatoos can’t fly away. They squawk and flap even harder around the room.
Red Sneakers shouts and ducks as a black cockatoo zooms over her head.
‘Everyone calm down,’ shouts Mr Hinkenbushel, running in circles.
The cockatoos squawk even louder. The zookeeper runs for the door, but Red Sneakers gets there first and stands beside Jessie, arms folded, staring down the zookeeper.
I jump down from the bench and run to them. ‘What do we do?’ I ask the zookeeper. I know she’s a criminal, but she’s also the cockatoo expert.
The zookeeper lifts her chin and scowls. ‘Why should I help you?’ she asks. Mr Hinkenbushel runs past us, trying to catch one of the birds.
‘But I thought that you loved the cockatoos?’ I ask the Zookeeper.
‘Only because they made me rich. Now they’re about to put me in prison. They can flap until they drop for all I care.’ Her eyes are cold and hard.
I stare at her. It doesn’t matter anymore that her hair is neat and her shirt is tucked in. She’s not a shouty person, but she’s actually much meaner than Mr Hinkenbushel. She’s not even looking at the frightened cockatoos. She’s got her eyes on the open suitcase on Vee’s lap. Vee isn’t looking into the suitcase. She’s trying to watch all three cockatoos at once, ducking and glancing around the room.
Maybe there’s something in the suitcase that can help us.
I dodge past Mr Hinkenbushel towards Vee.
‘What else is in the suitcase?’ I ask, looking down.
There’s a plastic bag, which I grab and open. Cockatoo treats. Exactly what we need. I hold up a palm full of the treats and try to make the clucking sound I made for Zora.
But none of the birds are going to notice me while Mr Hinkenbushel is chasing them.
‘Stop it, Mr Hinkenbushel!’ I call.
‘Someone needs to catch these blasted birds!’ he shouts.
I rattle the treat bag at him, but he doesn’t notice.
Growly Voice reaches out a big hand and holds Mr Hinkenbushel’s shoulder. ‘Shhh,’ he says. For the first time since we opened the suitcase, all the people in the room are still.
I make the cluck-cluck noise with my tongue again.
There’s a long pause.
Then one cockatoo swoops down and lands on my arm. It gently takes the food from my hand and sidles up to my shoulder.
Vee grins at me from the roly-chair as the cockatoo strokes my cheek with its beak. Squishy Taylor, Cockatoo Whisperer.
We’re back on South Lawn, lying on the grass, waiting for Dad and Baby.
Mr Hinkenbushel arrested the greedy zookeeper and took her away. It turned out the cockatoo treats were also sleeping tablets so it was easy for Growly Voice to carry them back to the zoo. He said the zoo would know how to free them into the wild.
‘I told you they were real scientists,’ Jessie says. The Dodgies even showed us their lab coats, for use in the next room, where nothing can get contaminated. I roll over and poke Jessie for being right, but it’s too hot to really argue.
‘I still wish we could go to the beach,’ I say. ‘It’s not a proper summer holiday without water.’
‘Hi kids!’ calls a voice across the lawn. It’s Dad. As he gets nearer, he puts Baby down on the grass. Baby starts crawling over. He’s got a massive, drooly smile on his face and we start cheering him on. Our Baby is already a master crawler.
But before he reaches us, something stops him. A burst of water rises up from the grass and sprays across his back. Baby looks frightened. Behind him, and all across South Lawn, water starts sprouting in small fountains.
‘Caught by the sprinkler system!’ Dad calls, with a big grin. I’m worried Baby is about to cry. But then he sits up, holds out his hands, opens his mouth and tries to catch the drops.
The next second, I am squirted in the face with cool, cool water.
Jessie, Vee and I leap to our feet and start running through the jets. We laugh and chase each other under the spray. My clothes get drenched and I can feel my wet hair draggling down my face. I can still feel the hot sun, but the water is cool on my skin.
This is what summer should feel like.
THE END
I would like to thank the fabulous Dr Jenny Giles, who explained DNA extraction and analysis to me, and who is in no way dodgy. All mistakes are my own (or Squishy’s).
In case you were wondering, the Melbourne Museum does have a Dinosaur Walk with a Tarbosaurus skeleton but I made up the rest of the museum layout for this story.
Squishy Taylor and the Silver Suitcase
published in 2017 by
Hardie Grant Egmont
Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street
Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia
www.hardiegrantegmont.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.
A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.
eISBN 9781743584965
Text copyright © 2017 Ailsa Wild
Illustrations copyright © 2017 Ben Wood
Series design copyright © 2017 Hardie Grant Egmont
Series design by Stephanie Spartels
Illustrations by Ben Wood
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