Danger Ahead

by R. A. Spratt

  ‘I don’t think he faked it,’ said Friday. ‘You should have seen the look on his face when he opened the package. He always tries to play it cool, but he was so happy that his father was asking him to visit.’

  ‘It must be someone who knew Ian well,’ said Melanie. ‘That’s his one weakness. His need to be loved by his father.’

  ‘Everyone wants to be loved by their father,’ argued Friday.

  ‘Yes, but most fathers are worth it,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Hey, I’m still on the line!’ snapped Mr Wainscott through the speakerphone.

  ‘I know,’ said Melanie, ‘I’d say the same thing if you were in the room.’

  ‘Miss Priddock!’ the Headmaster yelled out through his open office door. ‘Get the police on the phone.’

  ‘But the kidnapper said not to do that!’ said Mrs Wainscott. ‘Who knows what they’ll do to Ian if you involve the police. They might cut off his finger and post it to me!’ She collapsed on Uncle Bernie again, sobbing loudly.

  ‘I’m sure they won’t,’ said Melanie. ‘Everyone knows you don’t have any money. It would be no good sending a finger to you, unless they were demanding vegetables from your garden.’

  ‘If you are not prepared to pay the ransom,’ said the Headmaster, ‘then we will have to involve the police.’

  Everyone was silent and stared at the phone. Mr Wainscott was silent too.

  ‘Mr Wainscott,’ said Friday, ‘do you want to pay the ransom?’

  ‘Five million dollars?!’ exclaimed Mr Wainscott. ‘I don’t have that kind of money! Are you kidding me?!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Melanie. ‘You’re always hiding money. Perhaps you stashed a diamond somewhere and forgot about it.’

  ‘I don’t have five million dollars,’ said Mr Wainscott.

  ‘But could you get hold of five million dollars?’ asked Uncle Bernie. ‘There are lots of ways an imaginative man such as yourself can come up with that sort of money.’

  ‘No,’ said Mr Wainscott. ‘Besides, I thought you weren’t supposed to give in to kidnappers. It only encourages them.’

  ‘That’s code for he doesn’t want to put up five million dollars,’ said Melanie, translating for Friday, who rarely understood conversational nuance.

  ‘Then we’ll have to bring in the police,’ said the Headmaster.

  Miss Priddock’s weepy voice crackled over the intercom on the Headmaster’s desk. ‘Sergeant Crowley is on line two for you.’

  ‘Are we agreed?’ asked the Headmaster, looking across to Mrs Wainscott and Uncle Bernie. Mrs Wainscott still had her face buried in Uncle Bernie’s shirt as she wept. Uncle Bernie nodded.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Mr Wainscott’s frustrated voice came over the speakerphone.

  ‘People are nodding,’ said Friday. ‘But please don’t expect me to narrate your phone call. I’m busy thinking hard.’

  The Headmaster picked up the phone.

  ‘Sergeant Crowley, I have a crime to report,’ said the Headmaster.

  Chapter 4

  Things Get Serious

  Things quickly escalated. Sergeant Crowley immediately realised this was the type of crime that was way out of his league. He struggled dealing with shoplifters and joy riders, so an international kidnapping and extortion demand was beyond him. He called in the Major Crime Squad.

  The lead detective, Inspector Brenda Ray, interviewed Friday and Melanie exhaustively, which Friday rather enjoyed, and just made Melanie sleepy.

  Inspector Ray was an impressive woman. She was elegant and efficient, and she had once been an elite level hurdler, so she had fearsomely strong quadriceps that could alone intimidate witnesses. Friday tried to explain to her that she was a detective savant.

  Inspector Ray was polite but disinterested.

  ‘I’m sure I could be of help to your investigation,’ argued Friday.

  ‘How?’ asked Inspector Ray.

  ‘I could fly out to the Cayman Islands and look around,’ said Friday. ‘I’m fluent in French, so I could talk to the locals.’

  ‘One child lost on an island full of tax exiles and smugglers is quite enough, thank you,’ said Inspector Ray with a calmness she had clearly been trained to use with hysterical family members. ‘My colleagues at the Cayman Islands police force will handle enquiries there. You can run along to class now.’

  ‘But what are you going to be doing?’ asked Friday.

  Inspector Ray sighed. Her patience clearly wasn’t as implacable as she might like it to be. ‘I will be pursuing every angle of investigation,’ she said, thinking that was as much explanation as Friday deserved.

  ‘Will you forensically examine Mr Wainscott’s business dealings to determine a list of his possible enemies?’ asked Friday.

  ‘Yes,’ said Inspector Ray.

  ‘Will you investigate Mrs Wainscott’s former career as a lawyer?’ asked Friday. ‘Just in case this is actually an attempt to get revenge on her, perhaps for wrongly imprisoning someone for crimes they didn’t commit?’

  Inspector Ray ground her teeth together. ‘We have limited resources,’ she said.

  ‘Ah,’ said Melanie, ‘that’s code for she didn’t think of that.’

  ‘It is improper of me to discuss details of a case with two children,’ snapped Inspector Ray.

  ‘But we were the last people to see Ian,’ said Friday, ‘apart from the driver. Have you found him yet?’

  ‘I only got handed this case two hours ago!’ exclaimed Inspector Ray.

  ‘But I gave you the licence plate of the vehicle,’ said Friday.

  ‘Police processes take time,’ said Inspector Ray. ‘They take even more time when members of the public are a nuisance.’

  ‘She means you,’ translated Melanie.

  ‘That’s not a very collaborative attitude,’ said Friday.

  ‘You are a child, I am a federal police inspector,’ said Inspector Ray. ‘We are not collaborating.’

  ‘You probably should,’ said Melanie. ‘Friday is good at this sort of thing. And Ian is her kindred spirit, so they’re psychically linked.’

  Inspector Ray stood up and walked to the door. She called to a uniformed officer standing in the corridor. ‘Drapalski, escort these two girls back to their class before I arrest them for interfering in a police investigation.’

  Inspector Ray left to interview other, less irritating witnesses. Friday and Melanie ambled back to class with Constable Drapalski.

  ‘I’m sure Ian’s all right,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Really?’ said Friday. ‘I don’t see why he would be. Kidnappers aren’t usually known for being kind and considerate.’

  ‘But if they want Mr Wainscott to pay, they’re not going to harm him, are they?’ said Melanie.

  ‘But Mr Wainscott is never going to be able to pay,’ said Friday. ‘His money is never in the form of actual money. It’s either “invested” in a dodgy scheme or hidden in some sort of transportable asset, like diamonds or postage stamps.’

  ‘Perhaps the kidnapper is a lady and she’d quite like a diamond,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I just hope they’re keeping him somewhere sanitary,’ said Friday. ‘They’ve done a good job of organising the kidnapping, I hope they’ve put as much planning into toilet facilities.’

  ‘Don’t worry, girls,’ said Constable Drapalski. The girls had forgotten their escort was there. ‘Inspector Ray is the best there is. If anyone is going to find your boyfriend, it will be her.’

  Friday nodded.

  ‘Aren’t you going to say, “He’s not my boyfriend”?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘What?’ said Friday. She was caught up in her own thoughts.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Melanie. ‘You’ve just had a relationship breakthrough, but we can talk about that later.’

  Friday and Melanie heard nothing more throughout the day. There were plenty of police milling around the school, searching Ian’s room and interviewing his friends. And there was a gaggle of media camped
out on the front lawn. The Headmaster had tried to make them wait outside the front gate, but students kept sneaking down to sell them exclusive stories. So he thought it was better to have the journalists right outside the administration building, where he could keep an eye on them.

  Students at Highcrest weren’t allowed to have any sort of electronic devices, which generally didn’t bother Friday. She wasn’t one for keeping up with fashion or celebrity gossip, or even politics and world affairs, which to her mind were just about as frivolous compared to the greater issues of physics and the meaning of life. But on this one occasion, she really wanted to follow the news.

  While other students were flirting with cameramen, Friday had a more practical approach to gaining information. She built herself a cathode-ray television set out of old equipment she found in the science storeroom, then tuned it to the local news station. This involved a lot of knob twiddling while they found the channel. And poor Melanie was inveigled into carrying a chain of wire coathangers around the room while Friday figured out the perfect configuration for their aerial. After ninety minutes of fiddling, the improvised television still had terrible vertical hold, but they could hear the sound well enough just in time for the intro music to the news bulletin.

  ‘Shhh, it’s starting,’ said Friday.

  ‘In leading news, floods in Preston have caused extensive damage to the local caravan park …’ began the newsreader.

  ‘It’s a good job Ian can’t hear this. He wouldn’t be very gratified that he isn’t the leading news story,’ said Melanie.

  ‘… And teenager Ian Wainscott remains missing. Police believe he was smuggled out of the country late yesterday. They are appealing for information from anyone who may have seen the boy. He is 182 centimetres tall, blonde-haired and of slim build.’

  ‘Slim build?’ said Friday.

  ‘You’re thinking of his rippling muscles again, aren’t you?’ said Melanie. ‘Slim build is just code for not fat.’

  The newsreader continued. ‘In other news, Zhi Zhi the panda gave birth to triplets today –’

  Friday switched the television off.

  ‘Hey, I was listening to that!’ protested Melanie. ‘Pandas are my spirit animal. They nap almost as much as I do.’

  ‘The police don’t seem to be making much progress,’ said Friday.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Melanie. ‘Will you try talking to Inspector Ray again?’

  ‘There’s no point,’ said Friday. ‘If Ian’s already in the Cayman Islands, the answers are all there.’

  ‘Then there’s nothing you can do,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I can go to the Cayman Islands,’ said Friday.

  ‘The Headmaster said that’s against school rules,’ said Melanie.

  ‘And I’m pretty sure I’m on an international watchlist,’ added Friday. ‘There’s no way I’d get past airport security without an adult.’

  ‘You could take Uncle Bernie,’ said Melanie. ‘He’d go with you.’

  ‘He just got married today,’ said Friday.

  ‘It isn’t going to be much of a honeymoon while his stepson is still kidnapped,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Friday. ‘Ian is his son now.’

  ‘Stepson,’ qualified Melanie.

  ‘That’s a type of son,’ said Friday, who was already heading over to her built-in wardrobe and pulling up the floorboards.

  ‘The Headmaster knows that all the kids hide things under the floorboards,’ said Melanie.

  ‘So long as we hide things, he can’t be accused of knowing about them,’ said Friday as she pulled out her secret ham radio. Uncle Bernie had given it to her when she first went to Highcrest Academy. Technically it wasn’t listed on the school’s banned electronics register, but Friday hid it anyway to be on the safe side. She set it up on the desk, switched it on and started tuning it to the correct frequency.

  ‘Grey Fedora, Grey Fedora, this is Green Pork Pie, do you read me? Over,’ began Friday. ‘Grey Fedora, Grey Fedora, come in. Over.’

  ‘Would he be listening in?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘He always keeps his CB radio on,’ said Friday. ‘It’s a habit from his police days. He likes monitoring what’s going on. Grey Fedora, come in, please.’

  The radio buzzed and beeped. ‘There’s a lot of static,’ said Friday, adjusting the knobs to tune it better.

  ‘Aamum … ot … ud … please,’ came a voice through the static.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Friday. ‘It could be a trucker, or someone out at sea. I don’t know why they’d be on this frequency, though.’

  ‘Barm … nit … hurr …’ continued the static-addled voice. ‘Shn … art … f …’

  Friday adjusted the knobs subtly and suddenly the voice became clear: ‘Help me! Friday, come in. Help me, please!’

  ‘That’s Ian’s voice!’ exclaimed Friday.

  ‘But he’s in the Cayman Islands,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Short-wave radio can travel massive distances,’ said Friday.

  ‘Hurry up,’ said Melanie. ‘Talk to him!’

  Friday pressed the button on the mouthpiece. ‘This is Friday. Ian, is that you?’

  ‘Friday, thank goodness! You’ve got to help me,’ said Ian. ‘I’ve been kidnapped.’

  ‘We know,’ said Friday. ‘The police have been here all day.’

  ‘I’m being held on a boat,’ said Ian. ‘The guy who took me has fallen asleep. I broke out of my room and came up to the bridge, but I don’t know where I am. There’s no navigation system. And the kidnapper has the key. I can’t operate the boat.’

  ‘You could hot-wire it,’ said Melanie.

  ‘I don’t know how to hot-wire a boat,’ said Ian.

  ‘I thought you could do all sorts of wicked things,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Hot-wiring a boat is not one of them,’ said Ian. ‘Besides, if I start the boat he’s going to wake up. And this guy is crazy.’

  ‘Has he hurt you?’ asked Friday.

  ‘No,’ said Ian. ‘He gave me a soda when I got in the car. There must have been sleeping pills in it. The next thing I knew, I woke up on this boat and it was dark.’

  ‘The police assumed that the kidnapper was flying Ian to the Cayman Islands,’ Melanie said to Friday, ‘but instead they’re sailing him there.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Ian,’ said Friday. ‘We’ll find you. Is it cloudy where you are?’

  ‘What difference does that make?’ asked Ian.

  ‘Can you see the stars?’ asked Friday. ‘If you can tell me what stars you see, I can work out where you are.’

  ‘There’s lots of stars, a whole sky full of them,’ said Ian. ‘How does that help if I don’t know which way is north?’

  ‘Just tell me what constellation is directly above you if you look straight up at the sky,’ said Friday.

  There was a pause.

  ‘Orion,’ said Ian, his voice crackling over the radio.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Friday.

  ‘Yes, I’m directly below his belt,’ said Ian.

  ‘Are you certain you’re not confusing it with another constellation?’ asked Friday. ‘Capricornia or Libra, perhaps?’

  ‘I know Orion,’ said Ian. ‘It’s the easiest one to spot. I’m directly below it.’

  ‘Hold tight, we’re on our way.’ Friday checked her watch and turned to Melanie. ‘It’s 2.14 am. If Ian is directly below Orion’s Belt, then I know exactly where he is. Let’s go.’

  ‘Where to?’ asked Melanie. ‘To call the police?’

  ‘We’ll radio them on the way,’ yelled Friday over her shoulder as she ran out of the room.

  Chapter 5

  Rescue

  Melanie was jogging along behind Friday. It was a testament to the depth of her friendship that she was moving at this increased speed. Melanie normally didn’t jog. She didn’t even care for walking quickly. But when Friday took off running t
owards the swamp, a flashlight in hand and her dressing gown flapping after her, Melanie just followed. She liked Friday, and Friday clearly needed help.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘The boatshed,’ said Friday.

  ‘Why?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘Because I’m not very good at swimming,’ said Friday.

  ‘I thought we were rescuing Ian,’ said Melanie.

  ‘We are,’ said Friday.

  ‘Then shouldn’t we be calling the police?’ said Melanie.

  ‘We don’t have a telephone,’ said Friday. ‘But there is a radio in Mr Pilcher’s boat.’

  The groundskeeper had an inflatable runabout boat. He mainly used it for fishing student property out of the swamp, or intercepting students who were trying to bunk off school by swimming out to their parents’ luxury yachts anchored offshore.

  Friday set to work picking the lock on the door of the boatshed. Melanie caught up to her and looked about. She grew up in a very wealthy family, so she was more used to boating than Friday. Melanie went around to the main jetty door and pulled on the handle. It was unlocked.

  Friday came over when she heard the roller door go up. ‘You’re a genius,’ she said to her friend.

  ‘No, I just have insight into the way lazy boat owners think,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Do you know how to get the boat down into the water?’ asked Friday.

  ‘At home I would ask Jorge to do it,’ said Melanie, ‘but he isn’t here. So I think we’ll have to drag it in ourselves.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Friday. She knew how much her friend didn’t care for physical exertion.

  ‘That’s all right,’ said Melanie. ‘I like Ian too. Although obviously not like-like the way you do.’

  On the whole, Friday thought they did a pretty good job of getting the boat out to sea (she only fell in the water twice). Melanie soon had it powered up and motoring out into open water.

  ‘So where are we going?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘Just head straight out,’ said Friday as she turned on the radio and tuned it to the police frequency.