‘Something did,’ admitted Gertrude. ‘Might not be reliable.’
Big Jon was stuffing something in the outside pocket of his pack. Because it was so wet, Dad had covered his camera in plastic and put it away. Others were wrapping their cameras too. But Big Jon did not have a camera shape in his bag. It looked smaller.
Just then, they heard Amy’s cry.
Her voice echoed around the mountain.
‘It’s heli-hiking for anyone injured.’ explained Zoe regretfully. ‘Sorry Amy. I’ve radioed ahead. We’ll carry you down to Quinton Lodge. And the helicopter will take you to hospital. ‘
They’d carried her up the slope to the path.
Amy’s ankle was twisted. Her face and hands were scratched, and her knee was bleeding. A bump was growing on her head.
Bertha hovered. ‘I’m so sorry. It was an accident. I was just standing there and I turned. I didn’t mean to knock you over the edge.’
Amy’s parents arrived. Dad hugged her and offered to carry her down the mountain.
‘What happened?’ Surprisingly Mum sounded calm. She was great when things went wrong.
‘Bertha’s height. And the high backpack.’
It was Christopher who first realised what had happened. Bertha was so tall, that when she turned to point out something about the view, her pack turned too. Amy was shorter. The backpack hit her.
An accident. Amy had been clobbered by a backpack. It just happened to belong to Ms Tree.
‘My ankle hurts,’ admitted Amy. She hobbled. ‘ But I’ll be able to walk, slowly.’
The path was crowded with packs and people.
‘No.’ decided Zoë.’ Your ankle’s twisted, and you’ll have to be carried down the alternative path. With an injury, this path’s too dangerous.’
Already Zoe had radioed ahead to Quinton Lodge. Then from the First Aid kit, she put ice on the ankle.
‘Let’s spread the load around,’ said Adam the other guide.’ And I’ll carry Amy.’ He gave his pack to Zoe.
‘Piggyback time Amy.’ Dad offered again, but Adam was fitter.
The muscles in Adam’s legs showed as he sat on his haunches. Amy was loaded onto his back.
‘Put your arms around my neck. But don’t choke me.’
Amy clung, embarrassed. Her ankle didn’t belong to her. She could feel his warmth and there was a faint smell of sweat. He stood, the strain showing on his thighs.
Zoe slung Amy’s pack on top of her own and Adam’s.
‘Okay Amy ?’ asked Adam. ‘Let’s move.’
Being carried by Adam was like the time Amy went camel- riding. She tried to move with his rhythm of walking. Like suddenly growing an extra set of legs.They stopped a lot on the steep path down to the lodge. In places, the water made the rocks extra slippery.
Adam had a great sense of balance. But sometimes drips went down the back of Amy’s neck. She tried to make herself as light as possible. She helped push back branches. But she could hear Adam breathing heavily.
‘Hi,’ a voice echoed from below.
Sandy, another guide came up to meet them. ‘Want to swap horses?’ he offered to Amy.
She wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to give Adam a rest, but she didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful.
‘Amy can stay with me if she likes, ‘ offered Adam. ‘ But it’d help if you can lead us through the easier parts.’
So Sandy led them down, holding back branches and choosing the safer rocks.
Walkers were spaced out along the wet track. In some steep places, it was hard to decide which was the safer route. So they tended to catch up at the tricky crossings.
They waded through one creek and climbed up the slippery path, holding the rope handrail. A painted sign said 2 M. Quintin Lodge.
‘Not two miles more!’ said Amy, concerned. Perhaps she should have taken Sandy’s offer.
‘Two minutes, not two miles.’ said Zoe thankfully. The rain was heavier. The trampers kept plodding until they reached a clearing, with several huts ahead. Smoke was coming from the chimney.
‘The Lodge. They hold an annual golf game there,’ explained Zoe. ‘ Unusual. Newspaper balls and tree trunks for clubs.’ She was talking to make Amy think of anything other than her ankle. Or so Amy thought. She noticed that Quintin Lodge had an airstrip. KEEP CLEAR ALL AIRCRAFT AND GOLFERS was the sign.
‘Golf!’ said Gertrude happily. ‘Maybe someone will play with me.’
‘Not just now,’ said Jon.
Sounding like an egg-beater, the police helicopter landed, just as they reached the hut veranda. Gratefully Amy slid off Adam’s back.
‘Why is it the police helicopter?’ asked Christopher. ‘Has a crime been committed?’
‘No, it’s just the search and rescue people,’ explained Adam.
‘We’ll see you at the Hotel in two day’s time, Amy, ‘ Mum and Dad fussed.
In one way, Amy didn’t mind about ‘being an emergency’. She flew in the police helicopter. And she got to Milford Sound first. She had time to look at group photos of walkers from previous treks. And to check on a suspect who just might have been smuggling gold nuggets.
Chapter 11
Watch Out
That night, Mum and Dad radioed Milford Sound to check that Amy was okay. She could stay in the hotel until they got there. Christopher was sure she’d be sleuthing around. She’d told him something before she flew out.
‘Travel insurance pays for the flight,’ Zoe explained. ‘It’s search and rescue. That’s why a police helicopter is used. Brian Todd, Gertrude’s son was flown out too.’
‘What happened to him?’
What Christopher learnt then, helped him piece together part of the mystery.
Big Jon remembered, ‘ He was on my Celebrity Walk. Hurt his leg looking for minerals in the creek. That cook helped him back to the hut. ‘
‘Was he the same guy who makes our sandwiches?’ asked Christopher.
‘Probably.’
Had there been a nugget sandwich, wondered Christopher? Meanwhile he would watch out for suspect Stan, Ms Tree who was still trailing them, golfing Gertrude and the fishing Big Jon. Even Zoe knew about gold and was still minding that kea watch.
‘We made it!’
The 33 1/2 mile sign marked Sandfly Point, the Track end.
‘A photo opportunity!’ Hiroshi clicked.
‘Guess where the name came from?’ Zoe itched her arm.
‘Is that a joke?’ Stan swatted a sandfly. ‘Missed!’
Sandfly spots on Christopher’s wrist itched. ‘How come they don’t have a Mackas Sandfly Snack?’
Squelch! Stan hit another fly, with his walking stick, which rattled!
‘Is that a left handed walking stick?”
‘No. Although I’m thinking of inventing one. I’m a part-time inventor you know.’
‘He’s made some clever things.’ interrupted Ms Tree who’d become Stan’s big shadow. While wondered how she knew, Christopher was more interested in Big Jon.
‘Have some of my anti-fly lotion,’ Big Jon pulled a big bottle of repellent from his backpack.
That was the suspicious shape!
Crack! Stan aimed his stick at a sandfly near Big Jon’s arm. He missed and hit the face of Big Jon’s watch. It cracked!
‘Er, so sorry.’ Stan looked really upset. ‘Can I buy you another one?’
‘Don’t worry. A well- travelled watch,’ Big Jon looked regretfully at the cracked face. ‘But I’ve got several more from our ‘Goldbuyers’ rugby sponsors.’
‘Does the back come off ?’ asked Christopher.
‘Yes. Unfortunately. Smugglers have already done that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My watch was taken from my hotel room during the international games.
The police got it back. And I wore
it past South African customs security. Later, I found that the ‘fan’ had smuggled out a nugget in my copy-watch. Unknowingly, I couriered it for them.’
Christopher was fascinated. ‘When did the smugglers try to get it back from you?’
‘At the airport. But Customs caught them.’
‘How?’
‘A tip off. I wasn’t blamed. Fans have taken my clothes before. I just thought it was another fan-theft.’
Sleuth Christopher had suspected the watches!
‘If you take the back off, ‘ Big Jon showed them.’ There’s room to carry a nugget or two.’
Was someone trying the same method here, Christopher thought.
‘Was the copy-watch method reported in the newspapers?’ asked Christopher.
‘Yes.’ said Big Jon.’ Internationally.’
‘So a copy-cat might use a copy-watch to smuggle Milford nuggets? ‘ suggested Christopher. But a nugget-smuggler must have been on the Track before to know where the nuggets were. Could it be Hiroshi? He’d walked the track before? Big Jon? Not likely. What about Gertrude? Or even Zoe? Or Ms Tree and Stan?
Christopher still suspected Stan’s stick. Something had rattled in there.Could it be a gold nugget? As he returned it to Stan, he deliberately dropped it.
‘Something’s rattling Stan. Let me fix it for you. I’ll screw the top.’ Christopher unscrewed the top of the walking stick. Out fell something!
‘Diet pills,’ explained Stan.
Despite having to hop, Amy had been busy sleuthing. She watched the hotel-guide check in backpacks of the group in front of theirs. Most went into the drying room but two were put aside.
‘What are you doing with them?’ asked Amy.
‘Straps need mending. I’ll replace those packs with others for the next group.’
‘Do you record the pack numbers and who uses them?’
‘Of course. Occasionally people leave things zipped in the pockets. We post lost items onto their home addresses. Occasionally we miss something small.’
Quickly Amy checked the equipment list. In Group 66, backpack 108 was booked out to Todd. For the next few walking groups, it was in the store, being mended.
So no-one had used it in-between Todd and Amy. Maybe that’s why the map hadn’t been found earlier. Why had Todd carried a kea copy-watch? To hide a nugget?
Why had it been left behind? Had he left in a hurry?
‘Did Gertrude Todd book backpack 108 for our walk?’ asked Amy.
‘Look in the equipment book. Sometimes people have lucky number requests.’
Amy found what she was looking for. But it didn’t all fit together. Had Todd left the marked map in backpack 108 by accident? Were the crosses the nugget locations? Did he tell his Mum to ask for that backpack, knowing they were her favourite numbers? Would he have known about the backpack being mended?
If Todd was a gold smuggler who was now in the prison farm, maybe that’s why he sent his Mum. No-one would suspect her.
In the hotel office Amy found old group photos. She checked faces. On the back were the names. She found a Labelled photo of Brian Todd in the celebrity walk of Big Jon! Autographs were scrawled on the back. But not Brian Todd’s. Was that important?
By late afternoon, when the trekkers arrived at the hotel from Sandfly Point by boat, Amy had solved some of the mystery. But she was too late to catch the nugget-thief. That person flew out early.
‘How did you find that out?’ Christopher asked. They were sharing clues, sitting on the front steps. Amy’s leg stuck out at a strange angle.
Amy grinned. ‘I hobbled into the hotel chemist shop. I wanted something for my blister. So I asked the chemist about diabetics.’
‘Gertrude told me about her son. The cook made some diabetic meals, several weeks ago. I think the cook was also a nugget-thief who took the photo. I matched Brian Todd’s legs, shorts and boots in the half photo with the Group photo. ‘Amy was talking faster as she got more excited.
‘So what did that prove? Only that he was on the tour.’ Christopher was unsure.
‘Brian Todd was the Loser. Left his stuff behind. And left crosses on the map. At first I thought the crosses were photo opportunities. Then pick- up points for smuggled keas. The kea watch had to fit in somewhere.
But the keas were too big to hide. So it had to be nuggets. Brian marked where he’d found the main nuggets on his first visit. This was a sign for the next pick-up.’
‘I know why the things were left in backpack 108. Brian Todd was injured and flown out unexpectedly.
Maybe his backpack was left behind with the guide?’ suggested Christopher.
‘Right! But why didn’t he have his things posted on? SShh. Here comes Zoe.’
‘But he was arrested and sent to the prison farm.’ Christopher ignored the ‘be quiet.’
Overhearing them, Zoë said.’ Brian Todd wasn’t arrested for smuggling gold. He was imprisoned for credit card fraud.’ Zoe hurried away. ‘See you for the special dinner in half an hour.’
‘Fraud!”
Her leg might be out of action, but Amy’s brain was working at full speed.
‘What if each nugget was hidden in a tiny plastic sandwich bag at those crosses? During this trek, someone transferred them to the back of a copy- watch.’
‘Who? Was it Big Jon when he stayed back to fish?’
Amy shook her head. ‘He knew about the copy-watch scam. He’d already been ‘fleeced’ by that South African fan.’
‘I thought it might be Stan,’ suggested Christopher. ‘He was always hanging back to meet that Freedom Walker. And his sandwiches were specially marked. At first I thought the cook was smuggling the nuggets out as crunchy peanut butter.’
Amy said seriously, ‘I think the cook was involved. He took the photo of Todd.’
‘Why was the photo ripped?’ Christopher hadn’t worked that out yet.
‘Accidentally? But it also meant that Gertrude would know her son’s accomplice. He could match it with the other half. They did that when no-one else was around.’
‘Talking of photos. Why did Stan want two group photos as proof?’
Zoe was locking passports in the hotel safe. Stan’s was still on the counter as the twins handed in theirs. The Visitors’ Book which Stan had already signed, was nearby.
Remembering Big Jon’s autograph collection, Christopher asked ‘Can you tell a fake from a real signature?’
‘Depends whether I’ve seen the original or not,’ replied Big Jon.
Christopher pointed to Stan’s passport.’ Look. Was that written by the same person as the autograph in the book?’
Big Jon squinted. ‘Different ink. Same hand.’
‘But what about his photo?’ Christopher pointed to the passport.
‘Stan wears contacts,’ said Amy. ‘And he used to have a beard. He told me.’
At that moment, Bertha arrived, all dressed up, in a hot pink suit. She offered a box to Amy. ‘Sorry about the accident. Here’s a present.’
‘Thanks.’ Amy unwrapped the very rich chocolates.’ I thought you and Stan were smugglers .’
‘No. I’m just a failed dieter,’ admitted Bertha. ‘And probably an ex-girlfriend by now. I lost the bet.’
‘What bet?’
‘That I could do the Track alone, without even talking to him. He didn’t want me there. Remember when you asked me about the bomb-scare on the plane. I pretended it wasn’t me. I was so mixed up.’
‘Was he collecting keas?’
‘No, he was just looking at them. Bird- watching is his new hobby.’
‘New hobby? How well did you know him before?’’
‘Not well. He was a different person then. He used to invent things.’
‘Then why did he
want two group photos as proof he’d been on the Track?’ asked Amy.
‘He wanted to give one to our Weight Loss Club for their magazine. He won the trip as a prize because he lost the most weight last year,’ said Bertha quickly. ’The Greatest Loser!’
‘Ah. That’s why the passport photo didn’t fit the man,’ Christopher said.
One mystery solved. A before and after diet-shaped Stan.
Their parents had finished filming and Dr Al was very pleased with the result. He gave Amy some Antarctic stickers as well as autographing for Big Jon’s collection.
‘Let’s recycle the birthday candles,’ he suggested.
‘As Pompolona scones?’ joked Dad.’ After we edit Dr Al’s video, we’ll do one on the kea. Just a short documentary. The frequent flyer kea-thief from the Celebrity Trek.’
‘What was the high point of your trek, Stan?’ asked Zoe.
‘The Mc Kinnon Pass was the highest point,’ said Stan.
‘I don’t think that’s what she meant,’ said Mum quietly. ‘What did you like best?’
‘Finishing the walk. And winning my bet with Bertha. She didn’t believe I could pretend to be a different personality for a whole four days. But I did. I wasn’t shy, was I? ‘ Stan appealed to them. ‘It was all because of the prize. I’d never had that much money before. On top of the air tickets , the rugby match and the Milford Track trip. You see it was a ‘lose the most weight’ competition. And I won the ‘Biggest Loser’. So I decided to become a new person. At home, I’m usually shy and quiet. I’ve always been fat. And since I was 18, I wore a beard. So I decided to lose weight, shave off the beard, buy new clothes and pretend for a week that I was the person I always wanted to be.’
For the first time, Amy almost liked Stan. But who he was going to be next week? Would he be Stan- the- Funny Man or Stan-the-Shy? Would it be hard going back to what he was before?
‘Why did you pretend not to know Bertha?’ asked Amy.
‘Because we had a dare. She said she’d walk it all by herself. And stick to healthy food. But I cheated. I had my diet pills in the top of my walking stick,’ admitted Stan.
Fleeced Page 7
