Wraith

by Shane Smithers

  None of them noticed two pairs of eyes gazing on in bewilderment from the shadows.

  SIXTY

  Gaudy’s Jewellery Shop, Adelaide, South Australia

  ‘I love the old classics,’ said James, jumping out of the shadows.

  Aureole coughed. ‘Really? She scrunched up her nose and waved away the smell of burnt rubber with her hand. ‘I wonder who they were.’ She coughed again.

  ‘Something about them looked familiar.’

  ‘Even in the dark, wearing balaclavas?’

  ‘The two that got in last . . .’ James trailed off, trying to remember more details about them.

  ‘Males,’ said Aureole. ‘Both about 186 cm tall. One roughly 110 kg, the other . . . hmm . . . 75?’

  ‘Seriously? You could tell all that?’

  Aureole gave a smug shrug. ‘Couldn’t you?’

  They glanced up and down the street, and as they approached the darkened alleyway, James put on his shades and flicked them to night vision. ‘I love these things,’ he whispered.

  Aureole pointed to the splinters of wood and dented door. ‘They came in here,’ she said, keeping her voice low.

  ‘At least that saves us trying to break it down.’

  ‘I wasn’t planning on breaking it down. I was going to pick the lock.’

  ‘You? Pick locks – ha! How would you know how to pick locks? Another unit at school?’

  Aureole tilted her nose slightly in the air. ‘I learnt online, thank you very much.’

  They stepped over the remains of the splintered doorjamb and into the back room of the jewellery store. Aureole decided it was a good idea to close the door after them – just in case. ‘Nothing seems to have been touched in here. The safe is still locked,’ she said.

  James had already walked into the main shop. ‘There’s broken glass in here,’ he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

  Aureole walked in, came up beside him and pointed at the digital cameras lying discarded on the counter. ‘Looks like they went to steal some cameras and then changed their minds.’

  James held one up to examine it and then noticed the security cameras on the bench, not far away. ‘They certainly took care of these. Funny, though, they could have just smashed them, but instead they’ve been carefully unscrewed from the walls. They must have thought they had plenty of time.’

  ‘That’s not the impression I got when they were leaving.’ Aureole headed for the computer. ‘They looked in a real hurry.’

  ‘Yeah . . .’

  Suddenly, Aureole let out a gasp. ‘They’re after the SAFFIRE!’ she said. ‘The address is already on the screen.’

  James felt his heart skip a beat. ‘Do you think they were NIB agents?’ he asked.

  Aureole shook her head. ‘They didn’t look like NIB to me.’

  A bright blue light suddenly lit up the interior of the shop, blinding them. James put up a hand to cover his face, looked outside. ‘It’s the police!’ he hissed. He shot Aureole an incredulous look. ‘What happened to this 20-minute response time?’

  ‘Well, obviously the other idiots set off an alarm . . . that’s probably why they were in such a hurry to leave.’

  James didn’t miss the fact that Aureole had said “the other idiots”. He and Aureole were indeed as big a pair of idiots as the men who had just fled . . . probably bigger.

  They ducked and made a dash for the rear exit, but the sounds of heavy footsteps echoing off the alley walls pulled them up – the police were already in the rear lane.

  ‘We’re trapped,’ whispered James, his heart hammering.

  Aureole scanned the room. ‘Hurry, find somewhere to hide.’

  James spun in a circle. ‘Are you joking? Where?’ A table in the middle of the room, open shelves around the walls and a locked safe nestled in one corner, left them few options. Aureole blurred her appearance and hugged the wall closest to the exit as a shadow moved under the door.

  The ceiling, thought James. He jumped. Seconds later, the door flew inwards, narrowly missing Aureole’s arm. It bounced off the wall and nearly collided with the officer who had just kicked it. Aureole slinked behind the now half-open door. James pressed his body flat against the ceiling and tried not to breathe. Thoughts of Spiderman and, if only he had a web shooter, kept popping into his head.

  It was just like on TV. The officer clasped a torch close to his gun and made rapid sweeping movements of the area, surveying for danger. ‘Clear,’ he yelled. A second officer moved in and he motioned for his partner to take the next room. ‘Go.’ Moving swiftly and silently, they entered the main shop. James heard broken glass crunch beneath one of the officer’s boots. The torchlight darted this way and that, and, mingled with the red and blue siren lights, reminded James of a disco.

  Once the officers were out of view, James flew to the ground. ‘Come on. Now’s our chance,’ he whispered. He grabbed Aureole by the arm as she emerged from behind the door, dragging her outside.

  ‘Hey, you – stop!’ yelled an officer standing at the entrance to the alley.

  ‘Run!’ screamed Aureole.

  They darted down the lane, the officer in hot pursuit. As they turned the corner to the next alleyway, James stumbled, his shoulder smashing into the brick wall. Aureole slowed to see if he was all right. ‘Keep going,’ he cried, waving her on. ‘I’m okay.’ He took off, running again.

  The officer was gaining ground quickly. ‘Stop – Police!’

  ‘We’ve . . . got . . . to . . . fly . . . up,’ panted James, finally catching up to Aureole.

  ‘Not yet,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder. ‘Wait till we’re out of sight.’

  ‘I’m in pursuit of one male and one female suspect . . .’ James heard the officer say.

  Fifty metres along the alley James and Aureole skidded to a halt. Before them stood three storeys of solid brick wall. ‘Dead end!’ groaned James, panting, his face burning.

  Aureole noticed the narrow gap before James did and yelled, ‘Quick, this way.’ She took off down the little passageway, which was only wide enough for one person.

  An open drain ran down the middle, forcing them to run with their feet on either side. It was more like skipping than running. The officer followed, but found it much more difficult to manoeuvre with his big feet. James heard the officer let out a sudden yelp and James chanced a look over his shoulder. The officer’s foot had slipped into the drain and twisted. He hobbled forward and let out another cry of pain.

  ‘I think we’re losing him,’ said Aureole, gasping for air.

  ‘I feel like a rat in a maze,’ said James. They’d finally reached the end of the narrow passage and darted down the next alley.

  ‘Now’s our chance,’ said Aureole. ‘I think we’ve lost him.’

  James placed his arm around her waist and took a running leap.

  ‘Just to the roof top,’ she ordered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  A police car swung into the lane, the darkness dissolving before its headlights, but James and Aureole were already above the beam of light. They landed safely on the roof and crawled close to the edge to listen. A car door opened, and they could hear the injured officer’s voice, amplified by the confined space and tall brick walls.

  ‘Lost ’em,’ he said, puffing slightly.

  ‘Did you get a good look at them?’ said a second voice.

  ‘Nah . . . but I think they were kids.’

  ‘Kids! Hell. Breaking into a jewellery store . . . what’s the world coming to?’ James imagined the officer shaking his head in disgust. ‘You don’t think they’re the same kids that assaulted that sailor and stole his money, do you?’

  James opened his mouth in indignation, but Aureole held a finger to her lips.

  ‘Yeah, maybe . . . I can’t understand how you didn’t see ’em. They were only just here when you turned up.’

  ‘Unless they’re some kind of ninjas and climbed the walls, they’ve probably scarpered down another alley. The place
is riddled with them.’

  ‘I suppose a patrol might pick ’em up.’

  ‘Yeah, there’s a good chance of that.’

  There was a brief silence and then the injured officer let out an expletive. ‘Ankle’s bad,’ he moaned.

  ‘Needs strapping by the looks . . . better get you back to the station.’

  Moments later the police car was gone.

  ‘We didn’t touch Mr Watanabe’s money,’ blurted out James now that they were alone.

  ‘Obviously somebody has,’ said Aureole.

  ‘Probably those men at the jewellery store,’ said James. ‘And I bet they’re the ones we saw at the hospital and in front of the pawnshop too.’

  ‘Which means we don’t have much time,’ said Aureole. Her face looked grim. ‘They are following the same leads we are . . .’

  ‘They’re probably already on their way to that address.’

  ‘Do you still have the map?’

  James felt inside his jacket. ‘Yep,’ he said, producing a large pamphlet and unfolding it.

  Aureole leaned over to examine the map and then said, ‘There it is,’ pointing to a spot on the paper. ‘It’s too dangerous walking with the police still on patrol. Do you think you could fly us there in the dark?’

  James snorted. ‘Of course I can,’ he said and tapped the side of his nose. ‘I have a keen sense of direction.’

  ‘What are you going to do – sniff it out?’

  ‘No, dopey,’ said James. ‘We all have a tiny compass in our nose, and mine is rather acute . . . if I do say so myself.’

  Aureole cast a sceptical eye at his nose. ‘Whatever. Just get us there.’

  James stood up, looked over the building rooftops into the distance. ‘So we’re flying north, right?’

  ‘South!’ said Aureole. ‘Along the coast.’

  ‘Better keep the map open, just in case,’ said James. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close, ready to take off.

  Lyndoch, South Australia

  As Cirro made his way out of Lyndoch to the woods where he’d hidden his hopper, he analysed his options. There was still no word from Tactical Response, which meant they would be cutting this much too fine. Their delay was putting James and Aureole in more danger, not to mention an entire city. The children might just be clever and resourceful enough to find the SAFFIRE. What then? They had no idea the SAFFIRE was a ticking time bomb. Cirro wished James’s grandmother could have been of more help. But he couldn’t involve an elderly citizen, even if she was a remarkable woman. She had remained surprisingly calm, considering the critical nature of the situation.

  He reached the hopper; finding the children was still his major priority. Tactical Response should be here soon to deal with the SAFFIRE.

  ‘Open,’ he said and the door slid back. He climbed in and the door closed. ‘Search regional police activity over the last twenty-four hours and cross-reference with person of interest, James Locke.’

  ‘There are three new reports, lodged by officers in respect to an incident at the Kookaburra Motel. Nothing else,’ Angie replied a few moments later.

  ‘Check police transmissions with any reference to adolescent boys.’

  ‘There are more than seven thousand transmissions. Care to narrow your parameters?’ came Angie’s voice with attitude.

  ‘Cross reference to adolescent boy and girl, and robbery or break-in.’

  ‘Two hundred and twenty-six transmissions.’

  ‘Better,’ said Cirro. ‘Add, James Locke’s and Aureole Welkin’s descriptions.’

  ‘Twenty-three transmissions, all relating to one incident – robbery at Gaudy’s Jewellery store.’

  ‘Plot a course,’ said Cirro. ‘Estimated time till arrival?’

  ‘Twenty minutes.’ There was a pause and then Angie added, ‘I love it when you take control.’ The hopper’s engine hummed into life and the hopper lifted off.

  SIXTY-ONE

  Marino, South Australia

  James and Aureole made several wrong turns and had an emergency toilet stop but eventually they arrived at a luxury, double-storey beach house. It was perched on top of a cliff with spectacular view of the Gulf St Vincent. The surrounding neighbourhood seemed fast asleep. Only the sound of the ocean and a few lovesick crickets disturbed the tranquillity.

  ‘No grey station wagon,’ said Aureole. ‘I think we beat them.’

  ‘Are you sure this is the right address?’ James whispered.

  Aureole pointed to the numbers on the letterbox. ‘Number 52. And we are in Clarence Drive. This is it, all right.’

  James observed the manicured lawns and ornate water fountain. ‘They must be loaded,’ he said. It was a stark contrast to his family’s home. The closest they had to a water feature was the stinky duck pond.

  ‘You make it sound like we are going to rob the place,’ whispered Aureole.

  ‘We are. We’re here to take something these people own.’

  ‘But Mr Goldstein had no right selling it in the first place. He’d bought stolen goods.’

  ‘The engineer didn’t steal it – he found it.’

  ‘Ah yes, but . . .’ said Aureole, raising a finger knowingly. ‘You can’t sell something just because you found it. You are supposed to hand it in to the authorities.’ She gave James a curious look. ‘Why the righteous act all of a sudden? Are you getting cold feet?’

  James glared at her. ‘No.’

  ‘Well then,’ said Aureole, taking a deep breath. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

  Even though dawn was still a few hours away, the sky had already begun to lighten. James stepped onto the gravel drive, cast an eye over the shadows surrounding the house. ‘I hope they don’t have a dog,’ he muttered.

  They neared the edge of the house and suddenly the driveway flooded with light. James dived one way, Aureole the other, scrambling for cover. A minute passed, and then another, and then the light was gone. Aureole, having changed into her natural form, rose slowly to her feet, un-blurred. James waited another few seconds then crept out from the shadows, gave a shrug. They’d only taken a couple of steps when the light dazzled them again and sent James fleeing into the shrubbery.

  ‘It’s a motion detector,’ Aureole whispered. James peeked out, saw her standing just off the path. ‘Let’s go around to the other side,’ she said.

  They scurried across the lawn to the far side of the house, found a pebbled path and followed it until they came to a window. James checked to see if it was unlocked, shook his head. The next window was also locked. It wasn’t until the fifth that their luck changed.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ he said. ‘And no arguments.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to argue,’ said Aureole.

  James lifted an eyebrow as if to say, “That’s a first”, and then crawled through. He stood up and looked around. He was in a gym room with lots of expensive exercise equipment.

  ‘Is it clear?’ came Aureole’s hoarse whisper from the window.

  ‘Yes.’ James held out his hand to help her in.

  ‘What are all these things?’ she said, eyeing the machinery.

  ‘Exercise equipment. Don’t Azuriens exercise?’ said James. He walked over to the barbell. It must have had at least 100 kg on each end. He gripped the bar with one hand and lifted it over his head in one quick movement.

  ‘Put it down and come on,’ said Aureole. She walked to the door and turned the handle. Somewhere inside the house a clock chimed. She poked her head out of the doorway and whispered, ‘The coast is clear – let’s go.’ In the hall, she sniffed the air. ‘There is a funny smell, like burnt plastic.’

  James sniffed. ‘I can’t smell anything. You’re probably just imagining it.’ His body was tingling with energy, he wanted to get started on the search. Who cared how the place smelled? ‘Where to first?’ he said in a hushed voice.

  ‘You search down here . . . I will search upstairs,’ Aureole whispered in his ear. And before James could protest she add
ed, ‘Remember, this is not a horror movie.

  We have got to split up – we don’t have a lot of time.’ She gave him a don’t-argue look, and then tiptoed away.

  James watched her disappear around the corner, admiring her bravery, and then turned to inspect his surroundings. The living room was just ahead. To say it was lavish would have been an understatement. A mega plasma TV took up one complete wall. For a minute, James forgot why he was there. Finally, tearing his eyes away from the plasma screen, he puffed out one cheek and muttered to himself, ‘Where to start?’

  The mantelpiece looked as good a place as any. He picked up a piece of abstract art and ran his fingers along its smooth curves. Not the SAFFIRE . . . obviously, he thought. He trailed an eye over the room again and then it suddenly struck him that he still didn’t know what the SAFFIRE looked like. How was he going to recognise it? Mr Goldstein had spoken of its amazing angles and colours, but what did it look like? If those people who had seen it thought it was a meteorite, he guessed he’d just look for a huge chunk of rock. There were no rocks in this room.

  James thought he might have better luck in the next room, which turned out to be a study with a thick wool rug on the floor and bookshelves lining the walls. He pulled out the nearest book and read the title: Being and Nothingness by Jean-Paul Sartre. ‘That’s deep,’ he said, before carefully placing it back on the shelf.

  Papers covered the study desk, sprawled across it in a haphazard sort of way. Clearly, millionaires could be just as messy as anyone else. James sifted through a few documents, mostly bills, and then noticed a large bump under a pile of papers to one side. His heart missed a beat – could it be? Excitedly, he brushed them away.

  ‘A Newton’s cradle,’ he whispered. Not the SAFFIRE but just as exciting. Without thinking, he pulled one silver ball back and let it swing; clack . . . clack . . . clack . . . cla –

  He quickly muffled it with both hands, thankful that Aureole wasn’t within earshot.

  Next, he turned his attention to the desk drawers, pulled out a neat stack of receipts held together with a rubber band. Right on top was one from Gaudy’s Jewellery store, dated five days ago. A Rolex watch, $10,000. A pearl broach, $4,400. A jewelled necklace, $25,000. They were very expensive items. Puzzled, he flicked through the other receipts. Where’s the SAFFIRE? He knew the receipt wouldn’t say SAFFIRE, but surely it would give a description of some sort. Meteorite maybe. Or, maybe it was an under-the-counter transaction so there was no receipt given. In that case the SAFFIRE might be stowed away somewhere out of the ordinary.