‘I think we’ve got our channels crossed. Sorry. I think it’s my walkie-talkie, I keep picking up other people’s communications. I’m trying to tell my mate Martin about the fish I’ve just caught. Maybe if you turn your receiver off, I can get back to him.’
My heart sinks. ‘Right,’ I say. ‘Sorry…’
‘Hang on,’ says the voice. ‘What did you say your name was?’
‘Lori Mason.’
‘I thought that’s what you said. Listen, someone keeps looking for you on here. All the bloody time. Keeps coming through on my walkie-talkie. “Lori Mason, can you hear me?”’
‘That’s Max! What else does she say? Where is she?’
‘No idea, love. I’ve heard it a few times, though, over the last few days and in the evenings, too. She’s scanning the frequencies looking for you. You must be out of range. They only cover…’
‘Three kilometres. I know. Where are you when you hear her?’
‘Here by the river, down in Edge Hill Park. I only ever use the walkie-talkie when I’m fishing. There’s no mobile signal here.’
‘If you hear her again, ask her where she…’ The radio starts to crackle again. ‘Hello! Hello! Can you hear me? Are you still there?’
The line’s gone dead.
Chapter Twenty-two
Max is working her way through lots of detective books while she is a prisoner. Julie brings her piles from charity shops. Sometimes she skips through the boring bits. There’s a bit too much about weather and hats and not nearly enough about exotic animals, but she is learning from them. The main revelation is that nobody says what they really mean in detective books. Everyone tries to trick each other. Every story involves lies, hidden messages and traps.
When Julie arrives in the morning, Max puts on her worried face.
‘What’s up with you?’
‘Nothing.’ Max knows this is the one word guaranteed to make an adult more curious.
‘Well, there’s something. You’ve got even more of a face on you than usual.’
‘It’s just, I’ve been thinking … what happens if the stolen money turns up?’
Julie shrugs. ‘So?’
‘Well, if I don’t have the money, how am I surviving as a runaway?’
‘I told you before – you’re sleeping rough, stealing food, that kind of thing. We’ve been through this.’
‘But I’m supposed to be running away because I’m in trouble. If I didn’t steal the money, there is no trouble to run away from.’
‘Why don’t you just leave the worrying to me?’ She turns back to her phone. She always does that when she runs out of answers.
‘It’s just…’
‘What?’
‘Well, I was thinking. I don’t think people will really believe I’ve run away. That just isn’t me. I’d always let my mum know I was OK.’
‘For the last time, you’re not seeing your mum.’
‘But why don’t I send a letter? I could say clearly then that I’ve run away. Tell her not to worry. Otherwise, if they find the money, they might start thinking I’ve been taken and then they’d start searching everywhere – it’d be more risky for you.’
Julie considers this for a second, then shakes her head. ‘Nah, no chance. She’ll just have to worry.’
Max waits for a while and then says, ‘If only there was some way to make it look as if the note came from somewhere else…’
Julie looks at her. Max pretends to read and waits for the rusty wheels inside Julie’s head to turn.
‘Wait a minute!’ Julie says excitedly. Max lowers her book innocently. ‘I’ve got an idea. Another Julie Plan! You could write your little note and then I could send it from somewhere totally different … like London. Yes! Get a London postmark on it! They’d start looking for you there. There are thousands of runaway kids in London. That’ll keep them busy.’ She looks so pleased with herself.
‘Wow,’ Max says, ‘that is really good thinking.’
Chapter Twenty-three
Miss Casey tells me to go to Mr Wilson’s office but when I get there Mr Wilson is nowhere to be seen. Instead Detective Superintendent Alison Burrows is sitting in his chair.
‘Hello, Lori.’
‘Hello.’
‘I hear it was you who cracked the case of the stolen charity money.’
‘Oh, yeah. Well I just followed the evidence.’
Alison Burrows smiles: ‘You’re a clever girl. We could do with more like you in the force.’
I’m not here to be flattered. I get straight down to business.
‘So, I suppose this changes things, anyway.’
‘In what way?’
‘Well, now you know Max can’t have run away. She didn’t take the money, so she didn’t need to run away. And obviously she’s had no money to buy food and stuff with…’
‘We’re keeping an open mind and following up all leads.’
‘Good, because I’ve got a very important lead for you.’
‘Oh, yes?’
‘Last night I got a message on my walkie-talkie from a man. It was a crossed line. He was trying to talk to someone called Martin about a fish, but he got me instead. Then, when he heard my name, he said there was someone scanning the frequencies every night. Someone looking for me!’ Alison Burrows carries on looking at me. For some reason this isn’t sounding as convincing as I thought it would. I get the uncomfortable feeling that Alison Burrows might think I’m mad. I try again.
‘Don’t you see? It’s Max! She’s got my other walkie-talkie. It means she’s somewhere within a mile or two of Edge Hill Park.’
‘I’m sorry, Edge Hill Park?’
‘Yes, that’s where the man was fishing. For him to pick up her message, he must be within a three-kilometre range of wherever she is, because that’s the maximum range of the Kommunicator 150 system.’
‘I see. Did Max identify herself to the man?’
‘Well, no, I don’t think so. He didn’t say anyway. Just that someone was looking for me and obviously that can only be Max, as she’s got the walkie-talkie.’
‘Do you know for a fact that she has the walkie-talkie with her?’
‘She must have if she’s using it!’
I’m not sure Alison Burrows is that bright. She’s quiet again for a long time, deep in thought. Finally, she says, ‘OK, Lori, I’ll talk to this man. Follow it up. What’s his name?’
‘Well…’ I bite my lip. ‘I don’t actually know his name. We lost contact before he could tell me. But he has a friend called Martin and he fishes in Edge Hill Park. I mean, I’m sure you could find him.’
She takes off her glasses and rubs her eyes.
‘Lori, what exactly is it that you think has happened to Max?’
‘I think…’ But now for some reason I find it hard to speak, there’s an annoying lump in my throat. ‘I think,’ I try again, ‘that maybe she’s been kidnapped.’ I take a deep breath. ‘There are things you don’t know.’ I speak in a low voice. ‘I promised I’d never tell anyone, but … Max’s dad gambles. All the time. He owes lots of money to lots of bad men. Criminals. I think maybe one of them has taken Max to get money from him.’
‘A ransom?’
I nod.
Alison Burrows gives me a kind smile. ‘Lori, you’re a clever girl and I can tell you’re interested in detective work, probably read every detective book under the sun, I know I had at your age. But the thing you’ll learn when you grow up and become a real detective – as I very much hope you will one day – is that life isn’t much like detective books. People don’t always act in the way you think they will. Sometimes people do unexpected things. I really appreciate everything you’ve told me today. First of all, I want to reassure you that we already know all about Max’s dad’s gambling issues, and we’ve looked very closely indeed at his associates but, as you know, nobody has demanded a ransom, so it doesn’t look as if money is a prime motive here.
‘The thing is, Lori, the reason
I came today is to tell you that we’ve received a letter from Max that seems to confirm our belief that she’s run away. It doesn’t mean we’re not looking for her. Of course we’ll keep looking for her, but it does look as if she has chosen to go away for herself. The letter was addressed to her mum but she wanted to pass on a message to you, too. Here, you can read for yourself.’
She hands me a photocopy. There’s no mistaking Max’s long, spidery handwriting.
Dear Mum,
I’m so sorry for the worry I’ve caused you. I want you to know that I’m OK and I can look after myself. I had to get away, Mum. London is fine, I’m being careful and I have money to get by. I love you and this is not your fault.
Please say sorry to Dad too in case he is worried.
Also to Lori. I miss her and Peggoty but not Dandybird. Tell her to keep up with the detective work.
I’m sorry if I’ve let everybody down. Please don’t worry about me and take care of yourself.
Love
Your Maxie
Xxx
I carry on staring at the piece of paper for a long time after I’ve finished reading it. Eventually, I speak.
‘What does she mean “London”?’
‘It looks as if that’s where she is. The letter was postmarked there.’
‘But that’s more than three kilometres away. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Look, Lori, I’m not sure the walkie-talkie witness really stands up. We don’t know who this man is. He might have just been pulling your leg. There are some strange people out there.’
She points to a line in the letter. ‘Can you tell us who Peggoty and Dandybird are?’
‘Peggoty is a cat. I’ve never heard of Dandybird.’
‘Is it your cat?’
‘No. I’m allergic. It’s the cat from the sweet shop, Max always makes a fuss of her.’
‘I see. Is it possible that Dandybird is another animal?’
I shrug. ‘Maybe. Max is nuts about animals.’ I’m not really interested. I’m still trying to take in the note.
I walk back to the classroom in a daze. The first thing I see as I open the door is Max’s face staring back at me from everyone’s “Find Max” T-shirts. She looks as if she’s smirking.
Chapter Twenty-four
Last night Max had the sweet-factory dream again. Only this time it was more like a nightmare. The sweets were passing by too quickly and she was having to try and stuff too many in her mouth. The man with the notepad was getting cross because he couldn’t understand anything she was saying. Sweets started flying off the orange conveyor belt and suddenly an alarm started sounding. The factory had to be evacuated. Max ran and ran but still the beeping sound followed her. She woke up and realised that the sound was not in the dream. It was there in her room. She was sitting up trying to make sense of the noise when she realised. It was the call signal! The walkie-talkie! She grabbed it from under her pillow and pressed the receiver button:
‘Lori. Lori. It’s me! Can you hear me! Over.’
The radio crackled briefly and then died. She tried again and then again. She shouted into it as if that would work and that’s when she noticed: the red power light wasn’t on any more. The battery had died.
Max shouted out every bad word she could think of at the very top of her voice but at the end of it she felt just as frustrated as before, but now she had a sore throat to go with the frustration as well. She asked herself what would Sherlock Holmes do? Or Miss Marple? Or Lori? And she realised that the answer was: think.
The next morning, she mentioned to Julie that it was really driving her nuts never knowing what the time was, or how long she should sleep or how many hours till the next meal. She asked, in her nicest possible voice, if there was any chance she could have a small clock in the room. Julie thought for a minute but could see nothing suspicious in a clock. She said OK she’d bring one next time. Max smiled a grateful smile. She thought of the batteries. The Kommunicator 150 would soon be back in action. Detective stories were all just lies and traps.
Now Max hears footsteps coming up the stairs and waits eagerly to see the clock, but instead, for the first time since she arrived, Max hears another voice. A man is speaking quietly, but angrily.
‘I’m not coming in there with you. What? Do you think I’m as stupid as you are?’
‘Keep your voice down,’ Julie says. Max hears a creak and then the thud of a door. Their voices are muffled now. They’re in the next room. Max gets up and quickly tips her glass of pop down the sink. The wall is paper-thin and when she puts her glass up against it, she can hear the man’s voice clearly.
‘You’ve lost your mind.’
‘I thought you’d be pleased. £50,000! I get half and half goes to the dad. Only he owes most of that to you, so we end up with all of it! You were giving out about the money he owes you and I came up with a plan to get it all back … twice over!’
‘You ain’t gonna get that reward. Can you really be so thick? The first thing the police will do is investigate anyone claiming the reward. You’re going to be their prime suspect.’
‘No, you don’t understand. I won’t be a suspect. I’ll be a hero.’
‘No, Julie, you don’t understand. Anyone who makes any money out of this is a suspect.’
‘Well, let them suspect. I don’t have a criminal record. I’ve always been very careful about that. They can investigate and they’ll find nothing.’
The man shouts something angry-sounding, Max doesn’t think it’s even a word.
‘You’re my girlfriend! You’re connected to me! I’m connected to her dad! He owes me money. It will take them five minutes to work that out.’
‘Well, I don’t see how.’
‘You don’t see lots of things, Julie, but it don’t mean they’re not there. I’ve told you before about interfering.’
Max’s mum always said it was wrong to eavesdrop, but Max is sure there are exceptions and that this must be one of them. She can’t help grinning as she hears Julie being told off.
‘Do I have to spell it out to you?’
He’s speaking more quietly now. Max has to really crush her ear up against the glass.
‘You’re being a pessimist, Karl. I don’t know if I’ve told you before but you can be a real downer at times. You’re just jealous because you could never have come up with a plan like this.’
‘You’re right, I couldn’t. I’m nowhere near stupid enough. If you carry on, you’re going to go to prison for a very long time. Worse, I’ll be in prison, too, because they won’t believe for a second that I had nothing to do with this. Nobody in their right mind would ever believe that this was all just some lovely surprise you were hatching for me.’
Julie’s quiet.
‘You’ve kidnapped a little girl,’ he says.
‘Don’t say that. That makes it sound bad. It’s not a kidnapping, it’s a fake kidnapping! There’s a big difference, Karl. I’ve looked after her. Multipacks of crisps and everything. More than her dad ever did.’
‘You locked her up, Julie. Wake up. Nobody likes child kidnappers. Not even other criminals. Do you know what prison’s going to be like?’
Max wants to go and shake this man by the hand. He’s finally talking some sense into Julie.
‘So, what are you saying?’ says Julie. ‘I just let her go? After all this?’
‘You didn’t even disguise yourself.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘She can identify you!’
‘So, now you’re saying I’m going to go to prison even if I let her go.’
‘That’s what I’m saying.’
‘Well, that doesn’t make any sense. Prison if I go ahead, prison if I don’t. You’re not giving me any options.’
‘You haven’t given yourself any options … except one.’
They’re silent for a long time. Max tries to imagine what the option could be. She starts to have a very bad feeling.
�
��No,’ says Julie. ‘I don’t think I like what you’re saying.’
‘We’ve got to act and we’ve got to act soon. Every day she’s here is another day the police might find her. I’ll be back tomorrow night. You’ve left us no choice. We’ve got to get rid of her.’
Chapter Twenty-five
I’m standing in Meacham’s sweet shop, though I don’t really understand why. It’s obvious that Max has run away to London. The evidence couldn’t be clearer: a letter in Max’s handwriting, postmarked London. And I know that a good detective should always follow the evidence … But sometimes, very occasionally, even a good detective has to follow a feeling, or if you want to use the correct TV cop terminology: a hunch. Good detectives follow the evidence; brilliant ones follow their hunches. That’s what I’m trying to tell myself anyway.
This is the line in the letter that I can’t quite get past: ‘I miss her and Peggoty but not Dandybird. Tell her to keep up with the detective work.’
Lori and Max Page 9
