Undercover

by Jacqueline Harvey

  The twins looked at each other.

  ‘I wonder what it is,’ Max said, cutting a tender piece of lamb and loading it onto his fork with some gravy and beans.

  ‘She did not say,’ Song said apologetically.

  Dinner was a far happier affair than anyone had anticipated. By the time the children polished off Song’s chocolate pudding and ice-cream, no one would ever have guessed about the earlier blow-up. The twins bid Fitz and Song goodnight, then hurried upstairs to Max’s room to check in with Autumn and found they’d already missed a call from her. Max quickly tried to connect.

  ‘Hi there,’ Autumn said. The twins were both in frame and gave her a wave.

  ‘Where are you?’ Max asked, trying to make out what was in the background.

  ‘Downstairs in the secure room. I was just about to give up – I’ve got English and Witherbee is on the warpath about students being late to class.’

  ‘Sorry, we won’t keep you,’ the boy said.

  ‘What have you found out?’ Kensy asked.

  Autumn looked down at some notes she had made and read out her findings. ‘The car is registered to a George Kapalos. The property is owned by a company called Dalefield and the trustee is The Chalmers Corporation. The Davidson family sold it two years ago,’ Autumn said, looking chuffed with herself. She glanced at her watch and grimaced. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go, but call me tomorrow, okay?’

  ‘Thanks, Autumn,’ Max said, flashing her a grin. ‘I could kiss you right now.’

  Autumn’s eyes bulged. With her cheeks burning, the girl fumbled around to end the call.

  ‘Yeah, thanks,’ Kensy said as the screen went black. She stared at it, her mind racing a million miles per second, until Max voiced what was on both of their minds.

  ‘Why would Dash Chalmers have lied to his wife about owning that land?’ he said.

  ‘Exactly.’ Kensy slumped back onto the boy’s bed. She lay there for a moment then sat bolt upright. ‘Dalefield – that’s the name in Mum and Dad’s message. You don’t think it’s connected, do you?’

  ‘I mean, it’s a stretch. There are probably a million things called Dalefield.’ Max typed the word into the computer, bringing up over 88,000 results.

  ‘Well, we know Dash Chalmers is hiding something,’ Kensy said. ‘And George Kapalos might just hold the key to his secrets. Come on, let’s see what we can find out about him.’

  Max had hardly slept at all when he heard the door to his room creak open and Fitz’s face appear.

  ‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ the man said.

  ‘I wasn’t asleep.’

  Fitz walked further into the room and sat on the edge of the boy’s bed.

  Thursday had been much the same as every other school day so far with hours of choir practice followed by cricket training and enough homework to last a week. He and Kensy had made some progress with their investigations into George Kapalos. The man was a freelance journalist and the fact that he was meeting with Dash’s EA, Lucy, probably meant that he was writing a story on Dash and the company. Given there had been a recent announcement that The Chalmers Corporation was now the richest pharmaceutical company in the world, it seemed feasible. Unfortunately, there had been no headway with Dugald or Dash. At least today there was a strong likelihood Fitz would see their parents and, with any luck, they’d all be reunited soon – and maybe with their mother’s parents too.

  ‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ Fitz said, giving Max a hug. ‘And for goodness sakes, make sure you win that choir competition. Thacker’s been in a worse mood than usual.’ The man stood up and walked out of the room. He’d already been in to kiss Kensy goodbye. She hadn’t even stirred.

  Max hopped out of bed and walked to the door. He pulled it open. ‘Good luck,’ he whispered loudly.

  Fitz turned and gave him a nod before disappearing downstairs.

  Friday felt like it would never end. The headmaster had timetabled an all-day rehearsal, which had gone from the heights of perfection to the depths of despair – and that was just Thacker himself. The man had more mood swings than the average domestic cat. Thankfully, Dugald hadn’t made good on his threat to leave, but Mr Thacker spent a lot of time cajoling the lad and telling him how amazing he was. He did the same with Lucienne. The pair of them didn’t seem to be getting on terribly well either, although that hadn’t affected their singing – it was just the argy-bargy during the breaks that was a little uncouth. Kensy hoped they’d be able to control themselves on stage at the Opera House. While she hadn’t been especially keen on the choir in the first place, now that they’d come this far, she was rather hoping they’d win.

  Just when everyone was certain rehearsal was over, Mr Thacker announced they were all off to wardrobe to have their outfits double-checked by Ms Skidmore. Kensy couldn’t understand why they weren’t able to wear their school uniforms, especially as the concert was scheduled for midday. While Max had tried on at least a dozen tuxes when they’d gone shopping – which Kensy thought ridiculous, given they were practically identical – it had taken her all of two minutes to select an outfit: a long dark pink skirt with a lighter pink top – not a colour combination she would have necessarily gone for, but it was the first thing the shop assistant showed her and it fitted, so it would do. Song had insisted Kensy purchase new shoes as well, but she wasn’t to be persuaded. She was going to wear her favourite boots whether Ms Skidmore approved or not. Max thought the outfit looked great, but knew that was best kept to himself, unlike Van, who complimented Kensy loudly in front of everyone, earning himself a terrifying death stare from the girl.

  There was no news from Fitz or their parents, which was to be expected, as Fitz would only have arrived in New Zealand mid-afternoon. Although it was a short flight from Sydney to Queenstown, there was a two-hour jump ahead in time zones. Kensy and Max had decided the best way to keep their minds off what might have been happening was to ramp up their own investigations.

  After their outfits were approved, Mr Thacker decided on a last run-through of the song and another detailed explanation of what was to happen in the morning. They were to meet at the Opera House at eleven sharp, dressed and ready to perform. The competition commenced at midday. He expected them to get no less than nine hours’ sleep tonight and eat a hearty breakfast, though nothing too stodgy. It was just after four o’clock when they were finally dismissed.

  ‘Is Song coming to get us?’ Kensy asked her brother as they walked from the auditorium, lugging their schoolbags and clothes for the concert.

  Max took his phone out of his blazer pocket and looked at the screen. ‘He’s in the car park and he says that we’re taking Ellery and Van as well.’ Max turned and called out to Van that they were all going together.

  ‘How are you getting home, Curtis?’ Kensy asked the boy, who was walking along beside her, his suit bag dragging on the ground.

  ‘Ferry,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous – you can come with us,’ the girl said, earning herself a grin from Max and a sneer from Ellery.

  Song was standing beside the car dressed in a pair of white trousers, a royal-blue polo shirt with brown boat shoes and some very stylish new sunglasses.

  ‘Looking sharp, Song,’ Kensy said, waggling her eyebrows. ‘New outfit?’

  Song grinned. ‘I thought I would treat myself.’

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ Ellery asked anxiously as they reached the man.

  ‘Your mother had an appointment that was running late,’ the butler replied, and added, ‘She’s fine, I assure you.’ He didn’t want the child to worry that something else untoward could have happened to the woman.

  ‘Where’s your dad?’ Van said, realising that Fitz wasn’t with them. He opened the door for Kensy and motioned for her to go ahead.

  ‘He’s on a course,’ Max said at the same moment Kensy claimed the man had taken ill. They looked at each other.

  ‘Gerry had been at a course all day but has come down
with a dreadful flu,’ Song explained. ‘I have been making chicken soup by the potload.’

  ‘Yuck, I hate chicken soup,’ Ellery said. She tugged open the car door and climbed into the back seat.

  Max and Curtis forged through to the very back while Kensy hopped in beside Ellery. Van took the front seat, although not without looking a little disappointed.

  Song buckled his seatbelt and put the keys in the ignition. ‘Does everyone have everything they need?’ he asked.

  ‘No!’ Curtis gasped. ‘Sorry, I’ve left my dress shoes in the auditorium change room. I need them for the concert.’ He pushed the chair in front of him forward, almost catapulting Ellery into the back of Song’s seat.

  ‘Hey! Watch it, Pepper!’ she grouched.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Kensy offered, keen to put some space between herself and the girl.

  She and Curtis scrambled out of the car and sprinted back through the playground. The doors to the building were still open, but there was no one about. Curtis rushed into the change rooms while Kensy waited in the foyer. He returned in no time, triumphantly holding up a black shoe bag as if it were a trophy. They were about to leave when they heard the headmaster’s voice coming from inside the auditorium and he didn’t sound happy.

  ‘Let’s see what’s going on,’ Curtis said. ‘We can get to the stage from here.’

  Kensy couldn’t resist, and the pair hurried through the building and down a long passageway. Curtis pushed open a door and they tiptoed backstage, where he and Kensy peered through a gap in the black curtains. Mr Thacker and a haughty-looking woman wearing a teal suit were in the middle of a heated exchange.

  ‘We had a deal, Susan,’ Mr Thacker boomed.

  ‘Well, I don’t like this deal any more, Thaddeus,’ the woman retorted. ‘My client claims you have caused him considerable distress and he no longer wants to participate.’

  ‘He can’t do that! We need him,’ the man hissed through gritted teeth.

  Kensy and Curtis looked at one another.

  ‘Take it or leave it – either you deposit another ten thousand into the account by tonight or I’m afraid that my client will no longer be involved.’

  Thaddeus Thacker opened his mouth to speak, but the woman pressed a black talon against his lips. ‘There will be no further discussion and no more hissy fits. It’s unbecoming for a man of your stature. Just pay the money and everything will work out exactly the way you want,’ she said, then turned on her spiky black heels and stalked up the aisle towards the exit.

  Mr Thacker rested his head in his hands and began to cry, which Kensy thought was even more unbecoming for a man in his position. It was so awful that she and Curtis decided it was time to go too, which was just as well because the cleaners turned out the lights two minutes later.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Curtis asked as they ran for the car.

  ‘I wonder who her client is,’ Kensy said.

  ‘There she is!’ Curtis pointed to the other side of the car park, where the woman was stepping into a black sports car. Beside her was a man and in the back seat was none other than Dugald McCrae.

  ‘Whoa! Do you think Mr Thacker’s been paying that kid to be in the choir?’ Curtis asked.

  ‘I mean, he would have to be insane,’ Kensy said, ‘but it sure seems like it. We need hard evidence – more than just overhearing a conversation.’

  As they approached their car, Van leapt out to open the door for Kensy. Curtis clambered in first, accidentally whacking Ellery with his shoe bag as he made his way to the very back.

  ‘Ow!’ she whined, but no one paid her any attention.

  For the entire journey home, Kensy stared out the window, wondering about her parents and Fitz and hoping that their mission was going to plan. Curtis was equally preoccupied, mulling over what Kensy had said. He knew Mr Thacker liked to win, but the idea that the headmaster would pay some kid to be in their choir was madness – wasn’t it?

  Tinsley Chalmers had everything she needed. She’d packed three small carry-on bags with a change of clothes and underwear, their pyjamas and toiletries. She had money to buy clothes when they arrived at their destination, but in the meantime, they’d just have to make do. The bags were hidden in the bottom of her wardrobe. This time tomorrow they’d be gone. And now she had a foolproof plan to get Dash out of the picture too. If all went well, she and the children would be on a flight to the other side of the world before he even realised they were missing.

  ‘Right, we are going out this evening, children,’ Song announced, once they’d dropped their other passengers home. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that, despite Van’s best efforts to talk to Kensy, and Ellery whining that she was likely to have a bruise where Curtis had whacked her with his shoe bag, the twins had hardly said a word the whole way home.

  ‘Where?’ Max asked flatly. Like his sister, his mind had been on his parents ever since leaving school.

  Song grinned. ‘It is a surprise. We are doing something I never imagined I would, followed by a delicious meal – but we must hurry. You need to change and then we are off!’

  ‘Are you just trying to keep us busy so we don’t have time to think about Fitz?’ Kensy asked.

  Song frowned and shook his head. ‘I have no idea what Mr Fitz’s current engagement entails.’

  ‘Of course you do. I bet you know exactly what’s going on,’ Max said. ‘I mean, Granny probably trusts you and Sidney more than anyone.’

  ‘Confucius says you cannot open a book without learning something,’ Song replied. ‘Similarly, you cannot live in this household without knowing a little. But a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, so perhaps it is best to stay in the dark. Please, children, I promise we will have an enjoyable evening and the time will pass much more quickly and then tomorrow we have all the excitement of the concert at the Sydney Opera House, no less.’

  ‘If you say so,’ Kensy sighed, trudging up to her room.

  Meanwhile, Curtis pushed a trolley down a supermarket aisle, deep in thought. His mother had insisted he help her, but he was dying to get home. He had an idea that he was keen to share with Kensy and Max.

  A half-hour later, having unpacked the groceries, Curtis asked his mother if he could go next door. With his backpack fully stocked, he stood on the porch at number two and rang the buzzer. He waited an age but no one came. Curtis took a deep breath. Having Kensy and Max by his side would have been a bonus, but if they weren’t available, he’d just have to go it alone.

  ‘I look ridiculous,’ Kensy griped as they hurried up the Opera House steps. She tugged at her skirt, wishing she could have worn pants.

  ‘You look great,’ Max said, adjusting his bow tie. ‘I mean it.’

  Kensy shot him a smile. ‘I feel sorry for you in that suit. You must be so hot and, no, for your information I didn’t say you looked hot.’

  ‘You both look very smart,’ Song said. ‘I would like to take a photograph for your grandmother and Mr Fitz. Let’s see if we can manage to get the bridge in the background too.’

  Last night, the children and Song had climbed the Harbour Bridge at twilight. The view was breathtaking with the western sunset and the sparkling city lights. They then had dinner at one of Song’s favourite restaurants, where the dumplings were even better than his – if that was possible. The children had loved every minute and were glad that Song had organised to take them out.

  Song snapped a couple of shots before the twins insisted he hop in too and master the art of the selfie. After several misfires, they finally got a picture with all of them in the frame.

  Max glanced at his watch. ‘We better head in before Mr Thacker has an aneurysm.’

  The trio entered the foyer, where there were already hundreds of children and parents milling about. There was an undeniable buzz in the air. Max and Kensy went to join their choir while Song spotted Curtis’s parents and walked over to say hello. Van gasped when he saw Kensy.

  The girl shook her head vigorously a
nd pointed her finger at him. ‘Don’t you dare say a word,’ she warned.

  Van frowned in confusion and was swiftly whisked out of harm’s way by Max.

  ‘Someone’s feeling the heat,’ Kensy said to Curtis, when she noticed the trail of perspiration running down their headmaster’s temples. Ms Skidmore was prancing about, checking that everyone looked perfect.

  ‘And so he should,’ the boy replied mysteriously. ‘I know what he’s up to.’

  Kensy looked at the lad. ‘We think we know what he’s up to, but we don’t have any proof.’

  ‘I do,’ Curtis said with a glint in his eye. But before he could say another word, Miss Sparks declared that all singers needed to assemble backstage. The bells were ringing too, signalling for audience members to take their seats.

  Kensy noticed Curtis had his trusty backpack with him, which clashed horribly with his tuxedo. She wondered what he thought he might need for the concert.

  ‘Right,’ the headmaster hissed, ‘I don’t want to hear one peep out of any of you unless we’re warming up or on stage singing. Voice preservation is the name of the game from here on in and, if I see anyone flouting the rules, you will be on playground beautification for the rest of the term.’

  The children were led through a series of backstage doors and down a labyrinth of tunnels to a large dressing room, where there were several other schools already waiting. The stage manager read the list of performances in order, with Wentworth Grammar scheduled last of all. In total, there were twelve choirs, which was apparently a lot less than previous years due to the competition being brought so far forward.

  Kensy and Curtis sat in the corner so they could continue their conversation, hoping that the other children would provide cover, but Mr Thacker had eyes everywhere. Miss Sparks and Ms Skidmore were patrolling like commandants. At one point Kensy opened her mouth and was shushed by both of them before she’d uttered a word. Soon enough Mr Thacker directed the children to another rehearsal space to warm up, where they were he-heing, ha-haing and mo-moing with gusto.