“What did Tom ask about?'
âAh, that would be telling.' The Post Mistress smiled.
âWas it about posting a package or collecting one?' Amy persisted.
âHe was asking about how someone might arrange to have a parcel delivered here for collection.'
Amy and Christopher looked at each other. Who was Tom Savvas chasing? Was he still researching his story? Or was he finding out for himself? What was in his own package? Was he a smuggler himself? Why had he told Christopher about the poste restante?
âWhere did he go then?' Christopher didn't really expect an answer. But it was worth trying.
âTo check on the lockers,' said the Post Mistress with a little smile.
âHe thought that somebody might just leave a bag there for collection by someone else.' She seemed pleased to have sleuths visiting her post office counter. Perhaps it made a change from just selling stamps?
âAh!' Christopher was pleased. They were on the right track.
âThanks. Could I have one stamp then please?' With one of the trolley dollars, Amy bought a stamp for her postcard. She put the change in her bum-bag.
Meanwhile, Christopher pushed back his glasses. He was thinking.
âIf mail order is one way the steroids can come in, perhaps someone from our plane will collect a parcel from the post office?'
âSomeone already has. Tom Savvas.' Amy was beginning to suspect the journalist. He knew too much about mail order steroids.
Christopher agreed. âBut maybe he was just trying out the system so he could write about it?'
âWhere is he now?' Amy looked around as if expecting
Christopher to produce Tom like a magician.
âWhen he left the Arrivals Hall, he said he was going with Gloria to interview a Cairns official.'
âBut he must have come here, to the post office. And the post mistress said he went onto the lockers. So was he lying or did something change?'
Christopher shrugged. âThe games start today. If a seller didn't have much time, this would be the closest post office to the International
Games.'
âThere must be others in Cairns. Anyway Gloria's already caught their smuggler.' Amy was thinking aloud.
Christopher wasn't sure now. âI reckon it's more likely there'd be something hidden in the lockers. One person could put them in and another take them out.'
âUsing what?'
âA key.'
âBut where would the key be left?'
âIn a secret place they'd arranged before.'
âLet's have a look at the lockers next.'
In the airport terminal, luggage lockers filled one corner. Most of the locker doors swung open. The lockers went right down to the floor.
âLock with key, then remove key.' Amy read the instructions as she dropped her backpack on the floor.
âNo keys,' said Christopher looking around.
âRemove key,' repeated Amy. âWell someone must have. No bags inside either.' She checked. âOnly in this one. Number 4. In the middle.'
Amy tugged at the door. She expected it to be locked. It looked locked.
It wasn't. But it was tightly jammed. Inside was an airline carry bag with a CAIRNS tag.
âIs there a name on it?' asked Christopher excitedly?
âNo.' Amy checked. âD'you reckon it's coming or going?”
âIf it's got a CAIRNS tag, that's the destination. So it must have come from somewhere else. Look. It's got the Singapore security tape around the bag. Yellow. This must have come in on our flight.'
âBut who does it or did it belong to?' Amy noticed a scuff mark on the side of the bag. Otherwise it looked just ordinary, like hundreds of others.
âD'you think they ... or he ... or she ... arranged to leave it in a locked locker ... and then the keys were all missing? So it was left anyway? For someone else to pick up?'
âYes.' Christopher nodded. The luggage lockers looked like empty tooth sockets with swinging flaps. Christopher swung on the open door. It creaked.
âGet off Christopher. Mum said no more damages bills
ANYWHERE!'
âLook!'
From the window, they could see little aeroplanes on the other side of the airport. Some were charter aircraft which flew out to the islands or up to the gulf.
âI like that one.' Amy pointed to the little boat-shaped seaplane with wheels. âIt can land on water, too.'
âAce.'
âWonder if that goes out over the reefs?'
Mum told me if we don't get into any trouble before they arrive, she might take us out on the reef with them.'
What Mum called âtrouble' the twins called âfinding out.'
Amy glanced around. âWe should hide and watch. Let's see if anyone collects this bag.'
âWe might be waiting all day. Where's Tom Savvas?' Christopher looked around. âD'you think he's been here already?'
A thought struck Christopher. âPerhaps it's his bag?'
âShould we have a look inside?' Amy ran her fingers over the bag.
âCan't. It's locked. With a tiny padlock. But it' s an airlines bag, it isn't a mail package. So it must have come in on the flight, not through the mail. D'you remember what he was carrying?'
Christopher shook his head. Usually he did notice things like that. But he'd been busy sketching Mr Muscles and the soccer player.
âWhat about a name and address? The airlines make you write those.' Christopher checked. There was a name tag. But it was just three lines of runny writing. âIt could be an M, the first letter. Or maybe it's an S?'
Amy looked at the name tag sideways. That didn't help. In spy stories, they used mirrors to read backwards messages.
But this was just bad writing. âCould be Mr or Ms. That's not much help.'
Christopher agreed. âWait here and watch. Stand behind the palm over there. I'll go back to the newagency and buy that magazine. We'll show it to Gloria. And give her that pill for testing.'
âOkay.'
So Christopher left then and didn't hear Amy's exclamation. âHey!
Look who's over there!'
Chapter 12
Mr Muscles took a quick look behind him. Amy turned around to see who he was looking for. The soccer team was just getting its gear together. They looked ready to leave. A mini bus was waiting outside with TEAM written on it.
The driver left the engine running while he clattered down the step to help with the luggage. Different Socks was hanging around at the back of the group. He stared at passing people as if trying to recognise someone.
Just near the lockers was a bin. Mr Muscles looked around to see if anyone was watching. Amy ducked behind the potted palm. She was wider than the skinny trunk, but there were enough fronds for hiding.
Mr Muscles fumbled in his luggage. He pulled out the rolled newspaper. He dropped it in the bin.
Amy watched closely. There wasn't anything unusual about dropping a newspaper in a bin. But why had Mr Muscles carried it so far? And why hadn't he read it? Was it just that he didn't want anymore to carry? Or was he dropping it there for someone else to pick up? Was there something hidden or written inside?
With a glance in the direction of the soccer-players, Mr Muscles strode away. His clinging track pants revealed the shape of his leg muscles as he moved.
Amy moved, too. She darted out from behind the palm. Holiday makers walked past. Most wore colourful sun clothes.
People dragged suitcases on the leads like dog-cases. There were lots of hullos and goodbyes with hugs and kisses.
But just then, Different Socks headed in the direction of the bin. Amy turned her back and watched him through the reflection in the shop window. It worked like a mirror, backwards.
What was HE doing there? He pulled out the newspaper. He unrolled it. He looked at something inside. He touched something, looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching, and stuffed the newspaper back in the bin.
Then he strode away, too.
With a quick check over her shoulder, Amy spun around. She was determined to see what was so special about that rolled newspaper. After all, MR MUSCLES had offered it to her when they were standing in the Customs line. But perhaps he had been trying to get it past Customs. Maybe she should have taken it then?
Hurriedly she went to the bin. She pulled out the newspaper. She unrolled it. There was something strange. It was too heavy although the pages were thick. She unrolled the pages. Inside, some pages had been hollowed out.
There were little strips of pills stuck inside. They looked smaller than the vitamin tablets.
Was this a steroid-carrying newspaper? Or were they something else?
Amy looked up. What was she going to do? Why had he dropped the newspaper here? He had already passed through Customs. He hadn't been caught then. What should she do? Amy made a fast decision.
She'd put the newspaper back in the bin. Just in case, someone else was expected to collect it. But she'd let Gloria know straightaway.
Hurry back, Christopher. Why wasn't he here when he was needed?
She couldn't watch the bin AND the lockers and find Gloria.
Just then, the priest walked past.
âExcuse me!' Amy called in a loud whisper.
He turned. âWhat's wrong with your voice dear? Why are you hiding behind that palm?'
âMy brother has gone into the newsagent's over there. Could you tell him I need him quickly?'
The priest looked surprised. âWhy can't you go and tell him yourself?'
âWell, it's a bit difficult. Would you mind?'
âWhy?'
Amy burst out, âIt's to do with catching smugglers.' Her voice sounded so loud to her ears. Now everyone in the airport must know.
She might as well have used a microphone.
âReally? How will getting your brother help?' Obviously, before acting, the priest liked all the details.
âHe'll find Gloria, the undercover Customs officer. Then we can tell her what I've found.'
The priest thought for a moment. âThen why don't you describe this Gloria to me? I'll go to the information desk and find her. If she works for Customs, they'd know. Will that help?'
âThank you.' Amy wished he'd hurry.
âI've had a bit of a problem with my luggage, too. The holy water spilled.'
As he walked away Amy wondered if that would make his clothes holy? Would the sniffer dogs smell holy water? Why hadn't the sniffer dogs picked up the newspaper pills?
Soon, the airport loudspeaker crackled. COULD GLORIA X PLEASE REPORT TO THE INFORMATION DESK?
Amy hoped Gloria was not still working undercover. That call might have warned every smuggler in earshot. But then they might not know her name. They might not know WHY she was needed.
Just then Christopher raced up, waving the SPORTS magazine.
âDid you hear that? Perhaps more smugglers have been caught? Someone wants Gloria. Who d'you reckon it must be?'
âMe,' said Amy in a low voice.
âYou?'
âI sent the message ... sort of. Here. Pretend to be looking at this!'
Amy pushed the Cairns cane-fires postcard under his nose. âWe're keeping the bin under surveillance.'
Being undercover sleuths was hard with loud speaker messages and Christopher screaming around. Any smuggler would have been warned off unless he was blind and deaf. Luckily the priest hadn't come back, so the twins stood on guard until the breathless Gloria arrived. âGot your message. Is that the container?'
She pointed to the newspaper sticking out.
âYes.' Amy pulled it from the bin. She unrolled it carefully, trying not to touch much of the page. She wasn't sure how fingerprints were checked. Or even if Customs did that sort of thing.
âAh. I see.' Gloria's voice was controlled but the twins could tell she was excited. Her eyes skimmed the surroundings noting the travellers close by. Carefully, she took one tablet and smelled it. Then she fired questions at Amy. âWho? When? Where? What else did you notice?
Anyone watching you when you took it out of the bin the first time?'
Amy gave quick answers.
Now Gloria talked quickly into her walkie-talkie. âYes. Pick him up at the front doors. Just for questioning.' She turned to smile at the twins.
âWe'll have to have the pills tested.'
âAnimal or human steroids?' asked Amy.
âWe'll find out.'
That's when Christopher remembered something else. He nudged Amy. âWhat about that other white pill in your pocket?'
Amy had forgotten that. She felt in her pocket. The pill was still there.
âShow Gloria,' urged Christopher.
âShow me what?' Gloria didn't miss much. She had ace hearing.
âOne of the pills which Mr Muscles dropped on the floor in the Customs Hall. From his vitamin container.'
Gloria put out her hand. Reluctantly, Amy handed over the pill. Was she going to be arrested for smuggling?
Gloria looked carefully at the pill. She sniffed it. âI'll give it to the lab for testing. When did you pick this up?'
Gloria rolled the pill in her hand. Flecks of white stuff stuck to her palm.
â'Just before our bags went through. In the Customs Hall,' said Amy quickly.
âAnd where exactly was it before?' Gloria persisted. âWas it IN the vitamin container or loose in his bag?'
So Amy told her. âIt fell out of the container marked VITTAMINS.'
âI see.'
Christopher interrupted. âHow do games officials tell if athletes are on steroids?'
â'Athletes' urine is tested. Ever since the 1954 Olympic Games, when steroids were first noticed.'
âYuk!' said Christopher. He was glad he wasn't in one of the teams today. He remembered what it was like at the doctor's.
Gloria continued. âLegal importers of steroids need approval under Customs Prohibited Import Regulation 5H 2.'
Amy wasn't interested in all that official stuff. The only thing which interested her was whether Mr Muscles was smuggling steroids. If he wasn't then she'd been wasting her sleuthing time. Then Amy remembered the CAIRNS bag in the lockers. She turned. âGloria, there was something else. We were wondering about ...'
But it was too late. The empty lockers looked like pulled tooth sockets. And number 4 was empty with the door swinging, too.
The bag had gone! Without being noticed, someone had taken the bag from the locker. Who was it?