Daniel West The Priory, Totley, Glos
222
6.33 p.m.
Louise Draper 38 Murray Road, Birmingham
301
I hurried back to La Splendide. It was seven twenty-five p.m. and, besides Susan’s group, there were about half a dozen people dotted around the restaurant. I slid back into my seat. Everyone was looking at menus.
‘Any news?’ asked Izzy.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I can at least confirm that the first of tonight’s two smugglers has arrived and which room he’s in.’
It had taken only a brief look at the register to spot the smuggler. Have you worked out who it was?
‘Only one person arrived at around six, the time the texter told me the first smuggler would get here. I’m pretty sure that’s him because he’s using the name Moss, which also ties in with what I was told. I doubt either the name or the address he put down are genuine. Anyway, he’s in Room 217, which if I’m not mistaken puts him on the floor above where we are now. I’m not sure what time his contact will arrive, the one codenamed Heather, but they’re due to meet at nine o’clock. Let’s see thaaaaat’s . . . exactly an hour and a half from now.’
‘By the way,’ said Izzy, ‘I checked the online news services, like you asked. There are indeed several articles about a smuggling operation. There are very few details, but they appear to back up what Mr Mystery said.’
‘Or Mrs Mystery,’ I added.
‘Or Mrs Mystery, right.’
Vernon the waiter slimed up to the table and asked if everyone had chosen what they wanted to eat. He made it sound as if we were selecting clumps of goo out of a gutter. Hurriedly, I picked up a menu.
While the others were ordering variations on the theme of whatever-sounds-poshest, I kept glancing out of the window. Bryan Beeks was there, in the office across the courtyard, tapping away.
I was just trying to work out what Soup du Jour might mean, when a movement caught my eye. I glanced back across the courtyard and saw Beeks limping over to the office window. He reached up and shut the blinds.
‘Sir?’
‘Huh?’ I said.
‘Are you ready to order, sir?’ sighed Vernon.
‘Oh! Ummm . . .’
I returned my gaze to the window. The blinds were open again. Beeks was back at his desk, working away for all the world to see.
‘Sir?’
‘Oh! Sorry!’ I said. ‘Er, have you got any curry?’
‘As it’s a special occasion, sir, I’m sure Chef can oblige,’ said Vernon.
‘Oh great, I’ll have that, then. Thanks,’ I said with a grin.
Once Vernon had oozed away to the kitchen, all the others at the table stared at me.
‘Curry?’ said Izzy quietly.
‘I like curry,’ I said, even more quietly.
The restaurant was getting slightly busier now. Our table was rippling with chatter.
I wondered why Beeks had shut those blinds for, what was it, no more than thirty seconds? Was he signalling to someone? However, as he was clearly carrying on with his work, I let the matter pass. Maybe he liked to have as good a view of the restaurant as the restaurant had of him?
Within a minute of each other, two people entered the restaurant who grabbed my attention. The first was a tall, neatly clipped man in a spotless black suit. Vernon indicated a table towards the back of the room, but the man asked if he could sit closer to the entrance.
He grabbed my attention because I could have sworn I knew him from somewhere. I couldn’t quite work out why.
I nudged Izzy. ‘That guy over there, the one in the black suit,’ I whispered. ‘I’m sure I’ve seen him before. Does he ring any bells with you?’
‘Nope.’ Izzy shrugged. ‘He could just be someone you’ve seen in a shop, or something like that.’
‘Hmm,’ I muttered. ‘Dunno.’
The second person to grab my attention appeared. This was a much shorter man, wearing a light brown leather jacket. His face had more lines than a school exercise book and was topped with a messy thatch of ginger hair.
This one caught my attention for a totally different reason. As Vernon approached him and asked if he was a hotel guest or just visiting the restaurant, the man replied that he was in room 217.
I nudged Izzy again. ‘That’s the smuggler. Moss.’
Izzy nudged Susan and whispered in her ear.
‘Ooooh,’ whispered Susan, leaning over to me. ‘Do you think his pockets are loaded with diamonds?’
‘No, I’m sure the diamonds will have been put in the safe in his room,’ I whispered, switching my gaze nervously between Moss, Black Suit Man and Beeks over in his office. ‘Otherwise, why book a room at all? He could simply meet his contact here in the restaurant. No, I expect he’ll be worried about being ambushed by rival crooks. The diamonds will be locked away.’
Moss seemed to be deep in conversation with Vernon the waiter. He brandished a bright red slip of paper at Vernon, which Vernon took, read, handed back, took again and finally walked off with, looking slightly puzzled.
‘What’s that paper?’ I whispered to Susan. ‘I’m sure I saw the hotel’s logo on it.’
‘That’s an ACV,’ whispered Susan, looking as puzzled as Vernon.
‘A what?’
‘Sorry, that’s just what Mum and Dad call them. Awkward Customer Vouchers. They get given out when hotel guests have had loads of things go wrong. Luggage missing, forgotten wake-up calls, that sort of thing. It gives them a free dinner here in the restaurant. Goodness knows why he’d have one, he’s only just got here.’
‘He couldn’t have been given one by your mum when he checked in?’ I said.
‘No way,’ said Susan. ‘Dad says they can cost the hotel a small fortune because whenever someone gets given one they go mad and eat all the most expensive stuff on the menu. Only the real moaners ever get one.’
Moss was busy giving Vernon the waiter a long list of main courses and side orders. Meanwhile, I noticed Black Suit Man, who’d been sitting quietly waiting for his starter to arrive, get up and walk out.
I looked over at Beeks in his office, then back at Moss. Vernon was on to a second page in his waiter’s jotter.
Wait a minute! There was a reason Moss might have had that voucher. And it had nothing to do with having made a complaint.
Based on what I’d just been talking about with Izzy and Susan, and on what I’d been told was going to happen that evening, I could see part of a plan lurking behind that voucher. There was a clear reason for Moss having it.
Can you work out what I was thinking?
Those diamonds were locked away in room 217. If someone was going to steal them, they would want to find a way to get Moss out of his room for a while. What better way than if he had one of those vouchers? Beeks could slip it under the door of Moss’s room – a simple complimentary-hotel-welcome-thingummy. Moss would then be down in the restaurant while —
‘— Beeks sneaks up to 217 and nicks the diamonds. He’s the maintenance man. He can easily over-ride the lock on the room safe!’ I hissed.
‘Sorry, did you say something?’ said Izzy.
I almost yelped. I whipped around in my seat, expecting to see the office across the courtyard empty. Beeks would be on his way upstairs right now!
But . . .
No. There he was. As before. Working away at his laptop. He turned to check through some papers and I could see his face clearly.
‘You OK, Saxby?’ Izzy asked.
I turned back to where Moss was giving Vernon the waiter a long list of food orders. Something was going on here. Something I couldn’t quite see yet.
Everyone at our table turned round as a distant crashing sound came echoing along the corridor from reception. One or two restaurant diners gave a miniature cheer.
‘Sounds like Mum’s having trouble at the front desk,’ said Susan.
I leaped to my feet. I was starting to feel nervous – something was definitely g
oing on here. ‘I’ll go and check. Izzy, watch Mr Beeks over there. Don’t take your eyes off him!’
I hurried out of La Splendide and along the corridor to the reception area. On the way, I passed Black Suit Man heading back towards the restaurant. Where did I know that guy from?
At reception, Susan’s mum had just finished re-filling the display stand that was propped up beside the welcome desk. It was one of those stack-up things which holds fold-out leaflets advertising local attractions and places to eat.
‘What was that crash?’ I asked.
‘This display thing going over!’ said Susan’s mum. ‘Some clumsy clot comes along, asks if we’ve got a local map and he manages to knock all my leaflets flying. Never mind, no harm done.’
‘A guy in a black suit?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ said Susan’s mum.
Two things rang an alarm bell in my head. No, three things!
One: Black Suit Man hadn’t appeared to be carrying any map with him on his way back to the restaurant.
Two: That display stand was quite chunky. It would take a really clumsy clot to knock it over.
Three: The Do Not Disturb sign on the admin office door behind the reception desk was slightly askew.
Something was definitely going on here!
‘Has Mr Beeks come out of that office?’ I asked.
‘No,’ said Susan’s mum.
‘Are you absolutely sure?’
‘Yes! Why? Listen, you can hear him typing.’
It was true. I could, just about, hear the tapping of laptop keys.
‘I’m sure he won’t mind if I pop in and ask him something,’ I said.
‘Oh yes he would,’ said Susan’s mum, raising a warning hand. ‘He’s behind on paperwork and he’s asked that nobody interrupt him.’
‘Yes, but —
‘But nothing. Several members of staff need to book that office from time to time to catch up on things and we all respect each other’s catch-up time.’
I had so many alarm bells going off in my head, I could hardly think straight. I decided to take a look at room 217. I’d be taking a big risk. What if Moss came back to his room? But a lot was at stake. What if the diamonds had already gone and I was too late? What if a robbery was going on right under my nose?
I ran up the wide staircase which led to the upper floors, the thick carpeting absorbing every footstep. The silence around me as I ran made the anxious thumping of my heart feel all the more severe. Although that may partly have been down to how unfit I am. By the time I got upstairs, I was out of breath. I really must get more exercise.
Without the slightest pause, I flung open the fire door at the top of the stairs and hurtled along the tastefully lit – WHUMP!
I ran into Bryan Beeks so hard that we both bounced backwards. I landed with a thud on my bottom. For a fraction of a second, we stared at each other in a daze. Beeks slapped both hands to his leg.
‘Owwww! My leg! Oww! Watch where you’re going, young man! That hurt!’
‘S-Sorry!’ I stuttered. Then I came to my senses and thought, What am I saying? It’s an act!
Beeks staggered to his feet, rubbing at his leg and wincing. ‘Holy moley, what are you doing running around like that? You’re one of Susan Lillington’s friends, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. Sorry. Er, rushing to the loo. About to burst. Got my best trousers on.’
I picked up his heavy walking stick and handed it back to him. Then I turned and ran back the way I’d come.
My mind felt as if a swarm of bees had been let loose inside it. Bryan Beeks was upstairs! Bryan Beeks, the guy I’d been warned was planning to steal the diamonds! What had he just been up to? Where was he going? Where had he been?
I’d just seen Bryan Beeks.
But . . . wasn’t Bryan Beeks in the admin office?
I scuttled past reception. (‘Hi!’ I waved to Susan’s mum. She smiled flatly. She obviously thought I was a bit strange.) I scooted back into the restaurant, just in time to see everyone at my table finishing their soup.
‘Saxby, there you are!’ cried Susan. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Getting my mind boggled,’ I muttered.
As I sat down, a phone started warbling. Black Suit Man snapped open a tiny handset from his top pocket.
I turned to look out of the window, across the courtyard. Bryan Beeks was working away in the office, just as he had been before.
‘Did you watch him?’ I whispered to Izzy.
‘Yes,’ said Izzy. ‘He hasn’t budged.’
I felt slightly feeble at the knees. ‘You’re sure? You’re absolutely, one hundred per cent sure?’
Izzy shrugged. ‘Well, I saw him open a drawer and take a pen out, but apart from that, no, he hasn’t budged.’
Black Suit Man slotted his phone back into his top pocket. Then he walked out of the restaurant again.
I sat gazing at the getting-a-bit-cold-but-really-nice-looking tomato soup in front of me. I dug out my notebook.
Was I going mad, or had I just witnessed the impossible? Time: seven thirty-eight p.m.
A Page From My Notebook
Think! Think! Any ideas?
There are two Bryan Beekses! Not very likely. A clone suddenly turns up out of the blue? Or a long-lost twin?
No, I don’t think so.
I really am going loopy! Hmm, yes, that’s possible.
I’m mistaken! I haven’t really seen what I THINK I’ve seen. Yes, logically that’s probably it. But how?
Is Beeks acting alone? Does he have help? If so, who?
(Am I any nearer to discovering the identity of the mysterious texter? Er, no. It could still be anyone!
Probably someone in this hotel . . .)
Three urgent questions:
• HAS Beeks stolen the diamonds?
• WHAT can I do when Moss finds out?
• HAVE I totally failed?
CHAPTER
FIVE
MY NOTEBOOK SCRIBBLING WAS INTERRUPTED by a second crashing sound coming from reception. Several more diners gave another small cheer.
A plate of delicious-smelling curry and rice was placed in front of me by Vernon the waiter, along with a naan and a tiny pot of chutney. He took away my bowl of barely-touched-but-very-tasty tomato soup with a sniff.
Finally taking note of Black Suit Man’s absence again, I began to put two and two together, made three, added one, and arrived at the correct answer. An important element of the evening’s events was at last becoming clear to me!
I had a quick go at the curry. It tasted even better than it looked, but there was no time for that now. I told Izzy to watch Beeks like a hawk and I hurried back to reception.
As I expected, there was Black Suit Man. He had an armful of leaflets and Susan’s mum was, once again, putting the display stand back into place.
‘I’m so, so sorry!’ declared Black Suit Man. ‘Trust me to forget that map and then knock the whole thing over again. I’m being a total pain in the neck tonight. I do apologise.’
‘No problem, sir,’ said Susan’s mum, with a look on her face which said, ‘Yes, you are being a total pain in the neck’. She slotted the last few leaflets back into the stand. ‘Right now, sir, do you have your map?’
‘Yes!’ said Black Suit Man, waving a leaflet. ‘I’m going back to the restaurant, and I promise I won’t come near this stand again!’
‘Not a problem, sir, really,’ said Susan’s mum, in a tone of voice which said, ‘Yes, it’s a huge problem and if you knock this stand over one more time I’ve going to knock you flat on your face’.
Black Suit Man sauntered casually back in the direction of La Splendide. I scooted over to the reception desk.
‘Honestly,’ growled Susan’s mum under her breath. ‘Some people!’ The faint sound of Bryan Beeks tapping at his laptop came from inside the office. The Do Not Disturb sign was still hanging a bit off-centre.
I smiled to myself. This whole weird evening was rapidly sort
ing itself out in my mind.
It’s here that you need to cast your mind back to that magician I told you about. The one on TV who fooled me for a while into thinking he’d predicted those lottery numbers. I remembered how I’d worked that one out – how the magician had done some very simple things, but in a very roundabout way, to produce an apparently impossible result.
I had no doubt. Beeks had stolen those diamonds. He’d stolen the diamonds and he’d never left that office. In a simple, but roudabout sort of way.
What finally made me so sure was spotting the answer to an important question: Where had he hidden the gems? The solution to that little problem convinced me that I was right and that the theft had indeed taken place.
It was all down to one small detail. I’d encountered Mr Beeks twice since arriving at the hotel and there had been one difference, one physical change, between our first meeting and our second. Something to do with that phoney leg injury of his.
Can you spot it too?
The first time I met him, in the admin office, I’d noticed how light that walking stick of his had been. When I bumped into him upstairs, and handed the same walking stick back to him, it had been heavier.
Why the difference in weight? It must have been hollow. There must now be something hidden inside it.
The diamonds.
I looked at my watch – the time was exactly seven forty-eight p.m. I ran back to the restaurant’s entrance. Black Suit Man was now nibbling at a salad. Moss the smuggler was wading through a giant plateful of steak and chips. Susan, Izzy and the other girls were tucking into their main courses and nattering away to each other.
I caught Izzy’s eye and beckoned to her urgently. She pulled a face at me. I beckoned even more urgently and eventually she came over.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Have you been watching Beeks in that office?’
‘Yeeeees,’ she sighed. ‘And no, he hasn’t budged.’
‘I bet he closed the blinds a couple of minutes ago,’ I said.
Izzy gaped at me. ‘Yes! How did you know?’
‘It happened earlier. It confirms what I’ve already suspected. You and the others have to come to the admin office with me. Now. Beeks has nicked those diamonds and we have to stop him.’
Secret of the Skull Page 7