Genius Squad (27 page)

‘What gaol?’ said Devin.

‘Anything we ought to know about?’ Cliff queried.

Cadel wiped a hand across his face. He was conscious of Lexi, sulking in the background. He was aware of his own confusion. Data was raining down on him from all sides; what he needed was some peace and quiet, to sort it out properly. To decide what was important and what could safely be ignored.

He was about to say as much when the intercom spluttered, and Judith’s voice rang out, distorted by feedback.

‘Get up here,’ she squawked. ‘Something’s going on.’

There was a moment’s stunned silence. Then Cadel found himself caught up in a stampede. Still somewhat dazed, he allowed Cliff to hustle him into the lift, which was a very tight squeeze for six people. Squished between Dot and Lexi, he was almost suffocated by the sickly musk of Lexi’s cheap perfume.

When the lift door slid open, after a brief but uncomfortable ride, Cadel spilled out along with everyone else. The kitchen was dark. It was hard to see. Nevertheless, he could just make out Judith’s bulky shape beside Sonja’s wheelchair.

‘What the hell –?’ Cliff began. But Judith wagged a finger at him.

‘Shh!’ she hissed. ‘Listen! There’s someone outside!’

Sure enough, distant shouts could be heard, issuing from somewhere in the enormous, park-like grounds. There followed a faint thumping noise, and the crunch of footsteps on gravel.

‘I can see a light,’ Judith whispered, squinting through the slats of a venetian blind that hung crookedly at the window over the sink. ‘I think someone’s got a torch . . .’

‘Everybody upstairs!’ Cliff instructed, but not a single person obeyed his directive. As he strode towards the back door and flung it open, even Dot pressed forward, keen to see what was going on.

While Hamish and Devin clustered around Judith, blocking Sonja’s view through the window, Lexi and Dot headed for the door. They jostled Cliff, trying to peer past him.

Cadel wasn’t about to fight for a vantage point. Instead, sensibly, he flicked the switch that turned on the outside carriage-lamp.

‘There! Look!’ squeaked Lexi. ‘I see someone!’

‘Is that guy wearing a
tie
?’ Devin yelped, and Cliff said, ‘Cadel. Come here.’ Reaching back, he grabbed Cadel’s arm. ‘That’s one of your stake-out goons, isn’t it?’

Dragged through a tightly packed scrum, Cadel became wedged between Cliff’s flank and Lexi’s. Before him lay a stretch of mangy lawn, bathed in electric radiance. Beyond it, a bobbing beam of light marked the passage of a heavy man in a dark suit, who was running so fast that his tie streamed over his shoulder, snapping in the breeze.

He was attempting to train his torchlight on the figure tearing along some ten metres ahead of him.

‘Well?’ Cliff snapped. ‘Is it the police, or isn’t it?

‘I – I think so,’ Cadel stammered. ‘I can’t really see . . .’

‘
Oi!
’ the formally dressed runner yelled at his mysterious quarry. ‘
Oi! Police!
’

‘It’s a cop,’ the twins chorused, just as the shadowy fugitive was swallowed up by darkness, vanishing around the northernmost corner of the house. His pursuer was close on his heels.

Cadel realised that they were both heading for the gate.

‘Veranda!’ Hamish cried, whereupon there was another stampede – this time down the hallway. Hamish and the twins all thundered towards the front door, jabbing each other with their elbows, while Cliff slammed the back door and locked it.

‘Get her out of the way,’ Cliff ordered, jerking his chin at Sonja as he addressed Judith. ‘Into the bedroom. Don’t stand near any windows.’ Reaching for a high cupboard, he directed his next command at Cadel. ‘You – upstairs.’

‘But – ’

‘
Upstairs
, Cadel!’ Cliff pulled down a large plastic jar. In the dim light, Cadel couldn’t tell whether the jar was full of sultanas or coffee beans. ‘Your copper friend will gut me if anything happens to you,’ said Cliff. ‘I want you out of harm’s way.’

‘But – ’

‘Go on, love,’ Judith urged stoutly. ‘I’ll look after Sonja.’

‘Just
go
!’ Cliff barked, fishing around in the jar. And Cadel went – not because he had any intention of heading upstairs, but because a sudden whoop from the front of the house indicated that something of interest had happened.

When he joined Hamish and the twins on the veranda, they were bouncing around like cheerleaders, beside themselves with the thrill of the chase.

‘There! There!’ Lexi shrieked. ‘Get him, quick!’ The boards of the veranda shook beneath her. ‘Oh my God, he’s getting away!’

‘No he’s not – look!’ Devin pointed. ‘There’s another copper!’

Lurking behind the twins, Cadel could see enough to give him a reasonably good idea of what was going on. Two wavering torch beams were now visible; with their assistance, and in the milky light of a nearby street-lamp, Cadel could make out a dark silhouette pounding along the pale ribbon of the gravel driveway. Having outrun the first policeman, the fugitive had made a mad dash for the front gates – hoping, perhaps, to squeeze through them, or climb over them. But the sight of another torch-bearing, suit-wearing policeman just beyond those gates caused the fleeing trespasser to change his mind. He swerved back towards the house instead.

‘
He’s heading this way!
’ Lexi screamed. Cadel grabbed her arm to pull her inside.

At which point Hamish darted onto the driveway, with a shrill: ‘Come on!’

Cadel was gobsmacked. He realised that the fugitive, in desperation, was setting his course for one of the parked cars – and that Hamish was trying to intercept him. Behind Cadel, Cliff cried, ‘
Hamish! Come back here!
’ Then Lexi took off, disengaging herself from Cadel’s grip.

Almost everyone in sight seemed to be converging on the stocky, black-clad stranger, who, propelled by his own momentum, slammed into Cliff’s car before frantically jiggling the doorhandle.

‘
Get back!
’ yelled the closest policeman, making wild gestures at Hamish. ‘
Stop! Get back inside!
’

Hamish, however, was in a frenzy of excitement, and didn’t seem to hear. As his quarry broke away from Cliff’s car, Hamish made a clumsy attempt to tackle him. It wasn’t a successful manoeuvre. Hamish ended up on the ground, with his hands over his nose. He had been kicked in the face.

‘Oh, my God,’ said Cadel, and started forward.

But Cliff snatched at his collar, yanking him back. At the same instant, Lexi jumped out in front of the briefly delayed fugitive, blocking his planned trajectory. For some reason, he hesitated; possibly he was intimidated by her sturdy build, or her leather gear, or her eyebrow stud. At any rate, he stopped for a moment, allowing the first policeman to catch up.

It was immediately obvious that this particular law enforcer really knew how to bring someone down. He threw himself at his target like a first-grade rugby player; the noise of the impact made Cadel wince. There was a howl of pain from the trespasser, and a delighted screech from Lexi. She began to perform a kind of war-dance, punching at the air and springing from foot to foot.

‘We-did-it! We-did-it!’ she sang.

The policeman glared up at her, panting. ‘You get back inside!’ he roared. ‘Are you crazy, or what?’ He was holding his captive in a painful-looking armlock. His torch lay discarded on the grass.

Its steady beam was aimed directly at a damp, flushed, contorted face that Cadel recognised instantly.

‘Mace!’ he gasped.

TWENTY-FOUR

‘Who?’ said Lexi. And the breathless policeman croaked, ‘You know this guy?’

Cadel nodded. He was vaguely aware that Cliff had released him; that the second policeman was hurriedly approaching; that Hamish was gingerly dabbing at his split lip with one sleeve. But Cadel’s overriding interest in Mace caused him to disregard these events.

Mace was wearing a black beanie, black gloves, and a black nylon tracksuit. There were dark smudges on his cheeks and forehead. As he lay there, his chest heaving, he swore at Cadel – who retreated a step.

‘Okay, that’s enough,’ the breathless policeman warned Mace. ‘You’re only making it worse for yourself. What’s your name? Hmmm?’

The sole response was a four-letter word, crudely placed in front of a three-letter one.

‘He’s called Thomas,’ Cadel said quickly, before the breathless policeman could lose his temper. ‘Thomas Logge.’

‘Isn’t that the kid from your last billet?’ inquired the second policeman, who had suddenly materialised out of the shadows, waving his torch. Cadel knew him. It was Mick Mattilos.

‘Yes,’ Cadel mumbled.

‘Watch it, Glen, he’s a juvenile,’ Mick said to his partner. ‘Go easy, for Chrissake.’

Glen immediately rose. He hauled Mace up too, neatly side-stepping a couple of flailing kicks in the process. Hamish, meanwhile, had also staggered to his feet; his nose wasn’t bleeding, but his lip was.

‘Are you all right, Hamish?’ asked Cliff.

‘He kigged be in the bouth,’ Hamish complained, his voice snubbed and muffled. ‘I could have lost a tooth.’

‘You shouldn’t have tackled him,’ was Cliff’s unsympathetic response. ‘I told you to stay put.’

‘I was tryig to
help
,’ Hamish whined. And Mick said, ‘You’d better get a doctor to look at that. We might need photos, too – depending on the outcome.’

‘What the hell do you think you were playing at?’ Glen demanded of Mace, who stubbornly refused to answer, pulling against the policeman’s iron grasp instead. ‘Is this some kind of prank, eh? Some kind of practical joke?’

‘Do any of you kids know anything about this?’ Mick added, surveying the assembled company with a gimlet eye. He looked from Hamish to Lexi to Cadel; when his gaze reached Cadel, it lingered on his face. ‘This isn’t some lunatic role-playing scenario, is it? Some trick you’re all in on?’

‘No!’ Lexi yelped, convincingly outraged. But then she undermined her show of injured innocence by turning to Cadel and saying, ‘Was it your idea?’

Cadel shook his head. Cliff growled: ‘I bloody hope not.’ Glen, who had been expertly frisking the uncooperative Mace, suddenly pulled something from a pocket in the black nylon tracksuit pants.

It was a little velvet-covered box.

‘Uh-oh,’ said Glen. ‘Does this belong to anyone?’

His partner frowned. ‘But we caught him coming
in
!’ Mick protested, as Mace bucked and jerked like a dog on a rope. In the process of tightening his hold on the prisoner, Glen dropped the velvet box – which was pounced upon by Lexi.

She immediately opened it, and proudly displayed the antique fob-watch that was nestled inside.

‘Looks like real gold,’ she declared.

‘It’s nod mine,’ said Hamish.

‘Here,’ Mick commanded. ‘Give that to me.’

His tone must have caused Lexi some offence, because she shut the box with a
snap
and tossed it at him, bridling. He only just managed to catch it. Cliff said, ‘Do you recognise it, Cadel?’

Again, Cadel shook his head. He was mute with shock. Nothing made sense; he couldn’t quite believe that Mace had turned up at Clearview House so late at night. It seemed so risky. So
enterprising
. How had Mace managed to track him down? And for what purpose?

‘No weapons,’ Glen concluded, after completing his search of Mace’s pockets. ‘Unless you count a Swiss army knife.’

‘We’ll have to get to the bottom of this,’ said Mick. ‘I suppose I’d better call the boss.’ And he produced a mobile phone from somewhere inside his jacket.

Hamish, by this time, was lurching towards the veranda. He announced that he was going to wash off the blood, but was promptly advised by Cliff to ‘put some ice on it first’. Devin was eyeing Mace with frank curiosity. Lexi sidled up to Cadel and said, ‘Did you actually used to
live
with that guy?’

‘Yes,’ Cadel murmured.

‘In the foster-home?’

‘Yes.’

‘So that’s how he knew where to find you?’

It was a good question. As far as Cadel was aware, no one had mentioned his new address to Mace. In fact Saul had been trying to ensure that Cadel’s whereabouts remained a well-kept secret.

How had Mace, of all people, learned that secret?

‘All right, everyone inside,’ Cliff ordered. ‘Lexi – Cadel – it’s time for bed. Dot, will you get them upstairs, please?’

Cadel realised suddenly that Dot had joined them, looking almost eerily detached. Hamish had disappeared into the house. Mick was muttering into his mobile phone. As for Mace, he had stopped fighting when threatened with a pair of handcuffs. ‘It’s up to you, mate,’ Glen had warned him. ‘It’s your choice.’

Mace had chosen the sensible course.

But he still refused to speak. And he glowered at Cadel in such a ferocious way that even Dot reacted, nudging Cadel in the ribs.

‘You heard Cliff,’ she said. ‘Go to your room.’

‘The boss says he’ll meet us,’ Mick declared. He was addressing his partner. ‘Says he’ll make the necessary calls. We’re to wait in the car till back-up arrives. He says to be sure our subject’s well clear of the scene.’ Mick turned to Cadel. ‘That’s you, kid. You’d better go upstairs, right now.’

Cadel didn’t argue. Though his gaze was riveted to the spectacle of Mace in burglar’s attire, he wrenched himself away without too much effort, trudging numbly back into the house. His last glimpse of Mace was a flash of snarling teeth and frightened eyes, briefly spot-lit as Glen retrieved his torch.

Judith was hovering in the doorway of Sonja’s room, looking worried.

‘It’s all right,’ Dot announced, without waiting to be asked. ‘Everything’s under control. Where’s Hamish?’

‘In the bathroom,’ Judith replied. ‘What happened?’

‘It was just some kid,’ said Dot, and Lexi added, ‘It was some loony friend of Cadel’s.’

‘He’s not my friend,’ Cadel countered. ‘He hates me.’

‘Perhaps he came here to kill you, then,’ Devin observed, in a dispassionate tone. Judith frowned.

‘Devin!’ she snapped. But no one else reproved him. On the contrary, Lexi became quite excited.

‘Oh, my God!’ she exclaimed. ‘Do you think so? Do you think that’s what the pocket knife was for?’