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November Page 9

by Gabrielle Lord


  ‘Yes,’ I said, starting to get excited. ‘Queen Elizabeth the First!’

  ‘Something to do with her and Ireland,’ he added. ‘But that’s it.’

  I sat on the chair under the window, frustrated. I glanced at the yellow daisies, wilting in their vase.

  Eric heaved himself back off the desk and walked around, restlessly pacing, hands behind his back, head bowed.

  ‘As sick as I was, I couldn’t shake the sense of impending doom—not mine, but yours. The Ormond Singularity rings a distant bell.’ He shook his head regretfully. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t know why—I don’t know what it is or what it means. This viral infection destroyed a lot of the connectors in my brain. I became even more ill in the new year. I could no longer speak. My thoughts were scrambled …’

  ‘That’s what happened to my dad,’ I said. ‘Except he didn’t recover. He must have been suffering from a worse case of the virus than you. But,’ I reminded him, ‘on New Year’s Eve, you told me Dad had been murdered, and that I’d be next.’ I closed my eyes and tried to remember his words exactly. ‘They killed your father. They’re killing me!’ I said. ‘That’s what you said to me. You thought they were killing you, too. Who were you talking about? Who were they?’

  ‘All the doctors said it was some unknown viral infection. Something mysterious your dad and I had picked up overseas. I don’t understand.’

  Eric paused in his pacing, raised his head and gave me a piercing look. ‘What if it wasn’t an infection, Cal?’

  He’d practically taken the words out of my mouth, but it was shocking to hear him say it.

  ‘Are you suggesting something deliberate?’

  ‘Maybe I’ve spoken out of place,’ Eric said. ‘Without proof, I probably should remain silent. Forget it, Cal. I really don’t know. All I know is that I was very distressed when I realised Tom had died. He was a great photographer and an even better journalist. He was meticulous about what he wrote. He stood for everything that is good and true. There are not many like him any more.’

  It was good to hear that. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘And despite everything you might hear about me, I haven’t done anything bad either—I mean, nothing that’s harmed another person—not deliberately, anyway. I’ve just done what I had to. To survive.’

  ‘I believe you, Cal. The frightening thing is,’ Eric continued, ‘even though I’ve forgotten everything else, I sense that his illness and mine were somehow connected to the Ormond Singularity.’

  ‘So is that what you meant had killed my dad? That the Ormond Singularity was killing you, too?’

  ‘Possibly. Obviously, with the Ormond name, it’s something tied to your family, but maybe I got in the way. Maybe I knew too much. Not that I can remember anything now.’

  I thought for a moment and a shiver went through every cell of my body. ‘Someone tried to kill me and my uncle, way back in January,’ I said slowly. ‘Our fishing boat was sabotaged. Then someone shot Rafe, too, and attacked my sister. The crime that I was blamed for. People have been trying to kill me all year. Then there was the sniper at the chapel … My family’s cursed.’

  An awkward half-smile appeared on Eric’s lips.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, suddenly thinking of something. ‘Did you go to college with Dad?’

  ‘That’s right, we did. I didn’t know him very well. Just knew his name was Tom and that he had a twin brother who was always by his side. I couldn’t tell them apart. I didn’t meet Tom again until we started working together, many years later.’

  Rafe was ‘always by his side’? I couldn’t imagine it.

  ‘Can you tell me what you remember,’ I said, ‘about the last time you saw Dad? It doesn’t have to be anything important … I just like to hear about him.’

  I felt grief stir. It hadn’t been too active lately, I’d been distracted by so many other things. I pushed it back down.

  ‘For the conference I was staying at the hotel in Main Street in Carrick, and your dad invited me to dinner at the Clonmel Way Guest House, where he was staying. It’s just a little way out of the central part of the village, down along the river. He was beaming about a purchase he’d just made, something he’d paid a lot of money for—found in an antique shop. I figured it was something for your mum.’

  The Ormond Jewel, I thought to myself, nodding excitedly. He did buy it in Ireland.

  ‘That was probably the last clear memory I have from Ireland,’ he said.

  There was a silence cut by the sounds of distant sirens. All my muscles tensed. It was time to leave.

  ‘What are you going to do, Cal?’

  That was the question I’d been asking myself in some way or another for nearly a year now. I came away from the window and stood in front of his desk. ‘I’m going to do what I set out to do. Discover why my dad died. Do whatever it takes to track down the truth about the Ormond Singularity. Discover what it means, clear my name and get my family back together.’

  I could see the pity in Eric Blair’s eyes. I wondered for a moment whether Dad had confided in him about what happened to my twin. My life so far had been bookended with crime—first the kidnapping, and now being wanted for crimes I didn’t commit. Was there a connection between the two?

  ‘I could help you,’ offered Eric. ‘Help you make a new life somewhere, interstate. A new identity, a job. I know a few people who might be helpful. At least you’d be safer under a new name.’

  I shook my head. ‘Thanks, but no, I still have too much to do.’

  I wanted my life back, not a new life.

  He reached for his wallet and pulled out a small wad of notes. ‘Here’s two hundred. Please take it.’

  I shook my head again. ‘I can manage.’

  The sirens came closer. I rushed to the window and peered out.

  I exhaled as a couple of ambulances raced past in the street outside. The sirens started to fade.

  Eric walked me down the stairs. ‘Be very careful, Cal. I’ve heard there’s even going to be a special airport watch.’ He frowned. ‘There’s a whisper around that you might be trying to leave the country.’

  I’d been about to step into the street, but that information froze me mid-step. Why would the police be watching the airports? How did they know I was even thinking of leaving the country? Who had talked?

  ‘Of course it’s probably nothing more than a rumour,’ said Eric. ‘Who knows how these things start.’

  Every instinct told me it wasn’t just a rumour. I thanked Eric, said goodbye and hurried out.

  33 days to go …

  The last few days had been tough. With the new police initiative, cops were literally everywhere. Boges warned me to keep a low profile until my passport was ready. The thought of Rathbone in Ireland was a constant worry. What was he up to? What was he discovering?

  Every day I called Nelson Sharkey with the same question: ‘Is my passport ready?’ And every day I got the same answer: ‘I told you, I’ll let you know when it is.’

  Midnight on the 31st of December—when the Ormond Singularity ran out—came closer and closer, like it was chasing me too. I only had a few weeks left! I’d survived, so far, like I’d been told to do, but I hadn’t exposed the DMO. I hadn’t cleared my name. I hadn’t fulfilled my promise to Dad. I couldn’t bring myself to think about failure. I wouldn’t fail. I couldn’t fail.

  I was looking through my notes, drawings and photos, spread out on the cramped floor of the treehouse, when I heard her voice outside.

  ‘Cal? You there?’

  Winter’s voice was urgent, scared.

  I stopped what I was doing.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Quickly. Toss me the rope!’

  I let it down and she climbed up, squirming through the back window, almost losing the ribbon that was tied around her hair in the process.

  As soon as I saw her face I knew something was wrong.

  ‘It’s Boges,’ she said, almost in tears. ‘The cops have Boges.’

&
nbsp; ‘What? Have they arrested him?’

  ‘I don’t know, but they’ve taken him in for questioning. He slipped a split-second call through to me. He couldn’t get through to you. They’ve been questioning him for hours. I was at Sligo’s when he called, so I couldn’t come straight over. Cal, I’m really worried. I’m scared that Boges will say where you’re hiding!’

  ‘Boges would never do that,’ I said, checking my mobile for service. ‘He’d never give me up. He would never betray me.’

  ‘You don’t know how hard the cops could pressure him. Even charge him with being an accessory to your crimes.’

  ‘They couldn’t do that!’

  ‘Can you imagine what that would do to his mum and gran? If Boges goes into juvenile detention? If they threaten to charge him with some criminal offence, he can kiss his future goodbye. They could make his life plan totally disappear. Everything he’s ever dreamed of down the toilet.’

  I started pacing in the tight space. She was right. I recalled the conversation with Toecutter Durham, about how lives can be destroyed with just one mistake.

  ‘Cal, we have to do something!’

  I had to think of a plan to get him out of trouble, while staying out of trouble myself. The only chance I had of discovering the truth about the Ormond Singularity waited for me in Ireland. I couldn’t be caught at this stage.

  Overhead I heard the sound that I’d come to dread—the chopping reverberations of a helicopter.

  Winter saw my fear. Without a word, she poked her head out of the window and peered through the leaves.

  ‘It’s the police,’ she said. ‘Let’s hope it’s just flying over.’

  We waited and the moment passed, the chopper was moving away towards the city.

  She turned back to me. ‘Sligo has been watching me like a hawk—it’s getting worse. He’s always wanting to know where I am—what I’m doing. It’s making it impossible for me to get back to the car yard. He thinks I’m at the flat right now but if he drops round and realises I’m not there, I’ll be grilled with questions. I’m convinced he’s suspicious of me. I’m scared he’ll notice his scram money is missing and know I had something to do with it.’

  ‘Why would he think that?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I’m freaking out. I have to go. I have to get back to the flat.’

  ‘What should we do about Boges?’

  ‘I don’t know! I’m too afraid to call him right now. You shouldn’t call him either—the cops might zero in on where you’re hiding if you try. I’ll find out what I can and call you back. OK?’

  ‘OK,’ I said, even though it wasn’t OK. I hated the thought of Boges being pushed around by the police simply because he was my friend. But I knew he would never betray me, even though Winter had a point—they might trick him or manipulate him in some way. They were experts in extracting information, even from the toughest criminals. That didn’t worry me. Boges was smarter than all of them combined.

  ‘Cal, when all of this is over—’ Winter said, dismally looking around the treehouse before jumping to the ground. ‘I think we should—’

  She stopped abruptly.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘Another time,’ she said. ‘I’d better go.’

  I watched her through the gaps in the leaves as she snuck over the Lovetts’ back fence, wondering what it was she had wanted to say.

  As Winter vanished, I suddenly felt very alone. I couldn’t do anything to help my friend, after he’d done nothing but help me throughout this whole year.

  A message beeped on my mobile and I dived for it. For once I was disappointed it was Sharkey.

  meet me at the gym in an hour.

  I headed for the gym, striding fast, glad to have a distraction.

  In less than an hour, I was almost there. I was just a couple of streets away when my mobile beeped again.

  cal! been trying to call u! sligo had to go to a council meeting so i went back to the car yard … i just found what i was looking for in my parents’ car! now i have proof it’s theirs! call me asap!

  I was about to call her back when a deep uneasiness squirmed through me. I was becoming an expert at knowing when something was wrong.

  I noticed a guy standing about a hundred metres from the gym, eyeing me. He quickly looked away as if he’d realised I’d spotted him staring. There was another guy looking at me suspiciously, from the other side of the street.

  Was I under surveillance?

  I started hurrying back the way I’d come when I thought I saw a woman talking into her collar. I swung back. The two men I’d seen before were no longer there.

  Without warning, someone crash-tackled me to the ground. I fell heavily.

  The side of my face and my right hand grated painfully along the ground. I tried rolling over but the heavy body on top of me pinned me to the ground.

  ‘Get off me! Who are you?’ I shouted. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Police! Stay right where you are! Stay on the ground! Don’t move!’

  I strained my head up to see. Black police boots scuffed the footpath near my face.

  My hands were wrenched behind my back and secured.

  Eric’s warning about the airport security suddenly hit me. He’d said someone had started a rumour about me fleeing the country. I had no idea who that person could have been … until now.

  Sharkey had betrayed me! He’d set me up. I took a breath and tried not to throw up.

  ‘You sure this is the kid? He doesn’t look like this in the poster,’ said a voice behind me, as I was jerked to my feet.

  ‘It’s him, all right. They never look like the poster.’ Two plain-clothes police officers grasped me on both sides. I had no chance of escape.

  ‘Let me go! What have I done wrong?’

  ‘You’re Callum Ormond. We’ve been after you for nearly a year,’ said one cop. ‘Just wait till the boss hears we’re hauling him in!’ he said to his partner.

  ‘I’m not Callum Ormond!’ I scoffed. They started dragging me off the street and towards an unmarked car. I couldn’t let them take me to a station. If they fingerprinted me, I’d be dead. ‘You have the wrong guy!’

  ‘Yeah, well if you ain’t Callum Ormond, then who the heck are you?’ the cop demanded with a sneer.

  ‘He’s Matt Marlow, that’s who,’ came a familiar voice, loud and commanding.

  I managed to twist around to see Nelson Sharkey approaching. He rushed to my side and swiftly produced something, seemingly from my back pocket.

  ‘You have the wrong kid, officers,’ he said, waving a small book in his hand. He flipped through its pages. ‘This is certainly not Callum Ormond. Take a look for yourselves,’ he said, handing it to them.

  It was my new passport! Unbelievably, and in the nick of time, it had finally arrived!

  ‘Don’t make fools of yourselves and the police force,’ continued Sharkey. ‘You can’t arrest kids like this without even checking their ID. Senior Sergeant McGrath would not be happy about this. He can’t stand it when the rookies on his shift mess up.’

  The cops squirmed uncomfortably.

  ‘And who are you?’ one of them asked.

  ‘Detective Dane Cooper,’ he lied, ‘from Clarendale. You’d better let this kid go before I report you two turkeys. I could hit you both with a false imprisonment charge, or detaining a minor without a supervising adult present.’

  ‘Thanks, Detective,’ I said. ‘I tried telling them they had the wrong person. They thought I was that fugitive kid, Callum Ormond. They wouldn’t believe me when I said it wasn’t me!’

  The two cops released me from their grip, and shamefully hung their heads.

  ‘Come on, Matt,’ said Nelson, yanking my arm.

  Once we were a few metres away, he whispered to me. ‘We’d better go our separate ways now. Stay focused. The police hunt for you has intensified. Strike Force Predator has doubled in size. They’ve promised the public that you’ll be behind bars bef
ore the year is out. You have the passport—that was the reason I called the meeting—so take it away and get out of here. You can thank me later.’

  And with that, he darted across the road and out of sight.

  Guilt sat in my chest like heartburn. I’d thought for a second that Sharkey had betrayed me, and then he’d come to my rescue, yet again.

  The pressure was on. It seemed like everyone was working to the 31 December deadline. I had the passport, now we just needed to book flights … and get Boges out of the limelight.

  After a few minutes of walking, I quickly rang Sharkey to thank him for saving me again.

  ‘Hi, Detective Dane Cooper,’ I said when he answered the phone. That made him laugh. He said he couldn’t think of anything better on the spot.

  I filled him in on the Boges situation, and he told me he’d do anything he could to help. He also said he’d look into December flights to Ireland for us.

  ‘I’ll see what I can find out about Boges,’ said Sharkey. ‘If I can help him, I will. I have to go now. The big game starts soon, and I have to get my couch ready!’

  I was so out of the loop, I had no idea what game he was even talking about. And I’d forgotten to ask him about how his hot date went, the night Winter broke into Sligo’s scram bag. I knew Sharkey wasn’t going to offer up that information without a fair amount of pestering.

  My phone started beeping; I had a voicemail message from Winter. She must have called again while I was on the phone to Sharkey. I didn’t bother listening to it, dialling her number instead.

  Just before it began ringing, a squad car cruised past and I was forced to hang up and shove my phone back in my pocket, pull my collar up and my cap down, and walk on. Eric Blair and Nelson Sharkey were right. Strike Force Predator had intensified.

 

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