We have to solve this case quickly and get the Space Rock back where it belongs.
Remarkable Student Shazia is still talking. “We should tell the police what we know.”
“That would be like admitting we’re responsible.” That’s Remarkable Student Omar. “We can’t be held responsible for this.”
“We are not responsible.” Remarkable Student Alexander’s voice contains none of his friends’ panic or uncertainty. “We were just following orders.”
His words freeze me to the spot.
They have the opposite effect on Holly. She blazes into the room. “That’s what the Nazis said!” She pokes Alexander in the chest. “You big, posh Nazi.”
“Holly Hawkins!” He sounds amused. “Here in my home and as charming as ever. I wondered who was causing all the noise. Where are Tweedledum and Tweedledumber? He pokes his head through the door and grabs me by the hood. “Ha. Here’s one of them. So, where’s the other idiot?”
I wish I knew. Porter should be here. We’re a team. Ma Slater’s a bad substitute – too dangerous and smashy. I stare into Remarkable Student Alexander’s smug face and an evil idea floats into my head.
“Why don’t you call for him?” I suggest. “You could try yelling, ‘We’re in here, idiot!’ That should do it.”
“It’s not often I follow your advice, Hawkins,” Alexander says, “but this time I just might. Idi-o-t,” he calls as if coaxing a cat. “Where are you? Here, thicky thicky. Here, thicky thicky.”
He sticks his head round the door.
Big mistake. Seconds later it bounces back into the room with a resounding ‘Thwack!’
“Who you calling ‘thick’, you snotty-nosed brat?” Ma Slater throws her frying pan at him, and I half expect it to fly back to her hand like Thor’s hammer. “What did you do to my boy?”
Remarkable Student Alexander doesn’t answer. He just bends over and clutches his head.
With a roar of rage, Ma Slater grabs the pan and wallops him from behind, sending him sprawling headfirst on to his bed. Shazia reaches out to pat him sympathetically, but doesn’t get too close. I guess she’s worried he might mess up her white jeans.
Ma Slater spots her and Omar for the first time. “More snooty kids.” She glowers at them and lifts the frying pan. “Are you part of this?”
“No!” Shazia quickly withdraws her hand from Alexander’s shoulder.
Omar raises his arms in surrender, angling his fingers so they’re pointing at Alexander. “Nothing to do with us. Just him.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong. Owwwww!” Alexander rolls around on the bed, clutching his head, then his leg, then his head. “I was just following orders from our old headmistress.”
Wait! What?
Holly and I look at each other. He can’t mean . . .
“Ms Grimm.”
16
Grimm Reality
“Goodbye Remarkable Students Alexander, Shazia and Omar,” I say as Holly grabs my hand and drags me out of Alexander’s room.
We bump into Mr and Mrs West on the stairs. Fortunately for us (less so for their son) Remarkable Student Alexander gives another howl of frying-pan-induced pain and they push past us to get to him, leaving our exit free.
Holly races from the house as if Smokin’ Joe was hot on her heels. “Come on!” she calls. “We need to watch that security footage.”
I follow at more of an asthmatic trot, taking in the aftermath of Ma Slater’s destruction – massacred pot plants, brutalised traffic cones and slightly wonky lampposts. When we reach home, I head straight for my room and make my way through my to-scale Meccano solar system to insert the USB drive in my computer. Wheezing like a maltreated donkey, I collapse on to my bed.
Less than thirty seconds later, I leap up again.
“Archimedes!” I stroke Saturn’s rings and stare at the image frozen on screen. “The Remarkable Students were telling the truth. It’s Ms Grimm! The hair’s different and she’s wearing glasses, but it’s definitely her.”
Ms Grimm. The Grimm Reaper. The Brains behind LOSERS. The monster that stupidified Mum. The criminal who disappeared before the police could question her about child kidnapping and brainwashing. And now, apparently, Dad’s mysterious museum volunteer.
CLUE 23
Ms Grimm has been caught on camera at the Science Museum.
So she’s no longer ‘missing, whereabouts unknown’. Shame the same can’t be said for Porter. Does he know his mother’s back on the scene? Is she the reason for his disappearance?
I try his mobile. No answer.
“Trying to call Porter?” Holly fiddles with my Meccano model of Mercury, knowing it annoys me. “He’s probably sitting with the Grimm Reaper, staring at the caller ID, wondering what we know.”
“I’m wondering the same thing.” I try not to think about Holly’s dirty fingerprints on Mercury. “What do we know?”
“We know Porter’s keeping secrets,” Holly says. “We know Ms Grimm’s involved in the Science Museum heist. We know we only have eleven days to find the Moon Rock before brains start exploding. And we know we should stop calling it the ‘Moon’ Rock because it could come from anywhere . . . Maybe from here.” She touches my Meccano Mars. “Or here.” She pokes Venus. “Or he—”
“Stop it!” I yell, grabbing her hands.
To be fair, she might be right. Meteorites from Mars were found in the Antarctic, so it’s possible they also hit the moon. And meteorites from Venus might affect the human brain. Being closer to the sun, Venus lacks Earth’s geomagnetic protection field and its rocks are constantly blasted by high-energy radiation. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay for Holly to fiddle with my Meccano.
“Touch one more planet and I’ll start poking and prodding you. See how you like it.”
“Touchy.” Holly pulls her hands free, restarts the CCTV footage and pretends to reach for Neptune.
“NO touchy!” I smack her hand. “That’s my point!”
But my concern for my Meccano planets is forgotten moments later. “Fibonacci!”
Holly reaches out to touch the screen. “How did we miss that?”
Good question.
CLUE 24
Wrapped in tin foil, in plain view, on the top of the Mars lander is something that looks very much like the missing brain ray.
17
Foiled
“Another lift to the Science Museum?” Uncle Max grumbles as Holly forces her way into his car. “What do you think I am? Your personal taxi service? And where’s the lodger?”
“Missing in action. You’re going to London anyway,” Holly says. “I heard you say so on the phone. Surely you can give your two favourite nieces a lift?”
“You’re my only nieces.”
“Which means you have plenty of free time to chauffeur us around.”
When Uncle Max looks ready to refuse, Holly smiles with all her teeth. “I’ve been wondering what you do on these trips to London, Uncle Max? Perhaps I should ask Aunty Vera?”
I look up in surprise. Vigil-Aunty doesn’t know about his visits to London? How is that possible? She has eyes everywhere. Although, now I think about it, she hasn’t been her usual scary self lately. She’ll be fifty at the end of the month and it’s obviously bothering her because she won’t let anyone use the ‘f-word’ (fifty) and insists she’s turning forty-nine B.
She has become obsessed with watching old Star Wars movies. Apparently, she was always a fan of the actor who plays Han Solo and, on her wedding day, Uncle Max gave her special permission to kiss the Han Solo man if she met him in real life. Aunty Vera is worried she’s becoming too old to take advantage of that deal.
In an attempt to cheer Aunty Vera up, I pointed out that she has more chance of getting her kiss now, because Han Solo Man must be at least seventy so he probably can’t run as fast.
Vigil-Aunty hit me with her handbag.
“Should I ask her, Uncle Max?” Holly is saying. “Should I ask Aunty Vera what you’re
up to?”
“Just get in,” he growls. “But next time you pay petrol money.”
“Love you too, Uncle Max.”
Despite Holly badgering him all the way to London (‘badgering’ as in ‘asking something repeatedly’ not ‘digging tunnels and eating earthworms’), Uncle Max refuses to reveal where he’s going. I tell myself not to care. I have enough mysteries to solve without worrying about what Uncle Max is up to.
Holly and I know the layout of the Science Museum now, so we march straight to the spot in the ‘Exploring Space’ gallery where the security footage showed the brain ray. How could I have missed it? It’s like they say, ‘the best hiding place is in full view’ (although they should have added ‘wrapped in tin foil’). My hands shake as we approach the Mars lander. To discover . . . nothing.
CLUE 25
The brain ray has vanished.
“Hypatia! What now?” I ask Holly.
Holly kicks the barrier.
“What now, other than kicking things?” I ask. “We’ve got two hours to find the Space Rock, the brain ray and the Grimm Reaper. Suggestions?”
“We need to figure this out,” Holly says. “Let’s take it in turns to act out stealing the Space Rock and brain ray to work out how it was done.”
In the end, all we manage to figure out is that the thefts should have been impossible.
CLUE 26
To leave the gallery carrying the Space Rock, brain ray or both, you would have to walk past at least one functioning security camera.
“‘Francis Crick! This makes no sense,” I say. “We’ve watched the security footage. We would have seen them. There is only one way the Space Rock could have left this place.”
Holly looks at me expectantly.
“It was stolen by the Invisible Man.”
Holly kicks me.
“Oww! Is that your way of telling me the Space Rock would still be visible even if the Invisible Man wasn’t? Do you think it would become invisible if the Invisible Man ate it? Or stuffed it up his—”
I’m interrupted by a crash on the other side of ‘Exploring Space’. The distraction is probably a good thing as Holly’s kicking leg is still swinging.
Across by the Apollo lander, the tall security guard I spoke to on my last visit whips back his arm to punch his fellow guard in the face. His aim is good but his colleague has incredible reflexes and steps back a split second before the fist makes contact, so it just skims his jaw. Stumbling slightly, the second guard lifts his left hand to his face and hits out at Tall Guard with the right. Tall blocks the move effortlessly as if he knew it was coming.
Grunting in frustration, Other Guard hooks his leg around Tall’s knees in an attempt to bring him to the ground, but he’s not fast enough and Tall steps out of harm’s way. The two men dart back and forth, aiming and dodging kicks and punches as if the moves have been choreographed beforehand. But they both look too angry to be doing this for show.
Tall jabs at Other, who shifts out of the way milliseconds before Tall’s fist reaches him. They stare at each other intently, circling and matching moves. Tall cracks his knuckles and Other wipes sweat from his face.
“I’m not saying I want them to beat each other up or anything,” Holly says. “Okay, maybe I do a little bit,” she admits. “But isn’t this the weirdest fight you’ve ever seen? Where’s the trash talk? And why can’t either of them land a punch?”
“Definitely the weirdest fight,” I agree. “This place gets freakier each time we visit.”
It’s a relief when Holly’s phone buzzes and Uncle Max announces our two hours are up.
18
Lost And Found And Insulted
Halfway home, Holly realises she’s left her sunglasses behind. Nice ones too: an old designer pair Mum gave away when she stopped leaving the house.
“Come on, Uncle Max,” Holly pleads. “We’re only forty minutes away. I love those sunglasses.”
“No way. Look at this traffic. And LET GO OF MY ARM! Do you want us to crash?”
“But—”
“But nothing.” Uncle Max returns his hands to the ten-to-two position on the steering wheel and stares straight ahead.
“You should call the museum,” I tell her. “They must have a Lost Property department.”
Holly beams. “You are a genius, Know-All! Uncle Max, I need your phone because mine’s out of credit.”
Uncle Max grumbles about blackmailers, phone thieves and road accidents waiting to happen, but he hands his mobile over.
“Sorry to bother you,” Holly says to whoever picks up at the other end. “I don’t suppose anyone’s handed in a pair of aviator sunglasses? I think I left them in the girls’ toilets and— They have?” she claps, nearly dropping the phone. “Someone handed them in? Wow! Science Museum people rule! No, I’m in the car on my way home, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to pick them up, but— You will?” She covers the mouthpiece and hisses, “They’ll post them to me. How cool is that?”
I spread my hands to show a large amount of coolness.
“How much will that cost?” Holly asks. “You’re joking! It’s free? Okay, wait a minute. I’ll give you my address . . .”
While Holly tries to remember where we live, it occurs to me that this might be a clue:
CLUE 27
Science Museum Lost Property are prepared to send a lost item, free of charge, to the address of anyone who claims it.
I grab the phone.
Me:
“Is it official Lost Property policy to send items to people who lose them?”
Lost Property Man:
“Yeah.”
Me:
“Even now, with the police checking everything that goes out of the building?”
Lost Property Man:
“Huh?”
Me:
“Aren’t the police checking your post?”
Lost Property Man:
“Nah. Not really.”
Me:
“Has anyone asked you to send them a lost rock?”
Lost Property Man:
“ . . .”
Me:
“Would that be an offended silence?”
Lost Property Man:
“Yeah. I’m not stupid. I’m hardly gonna go posting stolen Moon Rocks to people, am I? Put the nice girl back on. I need her address.”
Me:
“I can give you that. We live at—”
Lost Property Man:
“Nah. Don’t wanna talk to you. Gimme the nice girl.”
Humph. I hand the phone back to Holly, who rattles off our address and giggles at something the Lost Property Muppet says.
I grab the phone back.
Me:
“Has anyone asked you to send them a brain ray?”
Lost Property Man:
“If you wanna make prank calls, call someone else.”
Me:
“It’s hardly a prank call when she’s just told you where I live, is it? Be sensible. Now, has anyone asked you to—?”
Lost Property Man:
(Cough.) “Have you lost any property in the Science Museum?”
Me:
“No, but—”
Lost Property Man:
“Then I don’t gotta talk to you.”
. . . Dial tone . . .
Fine. I don’t want to talk to him either. I have a lot to think about.
19
Mum Moves
Holly kicks Uncle Max’s car door shut, boots our garden gate open, and karate kicks the front door. And Lost Property Man thinks she’s a ‘nice girl’? Pah!
“I don’t understand why you’re kicking things,” I say. “I thought you were happy they found your sunglasses.”
“I’m multi-emoting. It’s a skill. I can be both happy about the sunglasses and mad about the brain ray at the same time. Look!” Holly sticks her thumbs in the air with a big grin and then lowers her right hand to punch the living-room door. “And I can be deeply suspicious ab
out the timing of Porter’s disappearance. What does he know about the brain ray? It was on the Mars lander. We saw it.”
“Brain ray?” Mum says from the sofa.
Holly and I jump. Mum spends all day watching TV and not saying a word, so it’s easy to forget she’s there. That sounds bad, but I think Mum forgets she’s there herself sometimes. Maybe it’s a brain-ray thing. After having your mind emptied it must be hard to fill it up again. Occasionally, though, something grabs her attention. Today, that thing is the brain ray.
“Are you saying someone stole the brain ray from the Science Museum?” she asks.
“We never mentioned the Science Museum.” I take a step back from the sofa. “How do you know it was there?”
Mum speaks slowly as if I’m a bit simple. “I put it there, didn’t I?”
Holly and I gawp at her. Synchronised staring. “You put it there?”
“Yes. Your dad asked me to.”
“Dad asked you to?” I echo.
Mum nods. “When he called me after his arrest, I told him I didn’t want that thing sitting in the attic.”
“In the attic?”
“Are you going to repeat everything I say?” Mum asks. “I’m sure I remember conversations being slightly more interesting.”
“But . . . ?” I say.
“But . . . ?” Holly continues.
“Ah, yes, much better.” Mum’s laugh sounds out of practice, reminding me that my conversation skills are being mocked by someone who’s barely spoken since Christmas.
“But . . . I don’t understand.” Holly manages to get a full sentence out. “You’re saying you took the brain ray?”
The Case of the Exploding Brains Page 7