by Sarah Rubin
Della came back downstairs, looking around like she’d forgotten something.
‘All the other girls who got called back have red hair,’ she said. ‘I want them to know I’m committed, but I don’t want them to think that I’m . . .’
‘Desperate,’ I finished her sentence.
Della looked hurt.
‘I don’t mean you are desperate, I just mean it would look like it if you went and dyed your hair for a callback.’ I’m no good at pep talks. I tend to say the first thing that comes to mind. And apparently the first things that come into my mind aren’t very tactful. I wondered if Della was always like this at auditions, or if it was just because Mom wasn’t here to hold her hand.
‘Well, to be honest, I am a little desperate. I’m twelve. It’s probably the last year I can play Annie.’
‘But you’re a young twelve,’ Dad said soothingly. ‘You could pass for ten.’
Della must be the only twelve-year-old in the world who was happy to be told she looks younger. But Annie was a dream role, even I knew that much.
‘I think you should stay blonde,’ Dad said. ‘If everyone else has red hair, it will make you stand out more. You can always dye it later if they want.’
‘I think so too,’ I said quickly.
Della tilted her head to one side, to emphasize the fact that she was thinking it over.
Dad snuck a look at his watch. It was one in the afternoon, that meant he had five hours before they put the paper to bed. He was probably worried about getting his follow-up story on Dr Learner’s disappearance finished on time.
It didn’t look like Della was going to make up her mind any time soon.
‘Why don’t you call Mom?’ I asked. ‘It’s around dinner time in Italy now. It’s the perfect time to talk.’
Della hit me with her megawatt smile. ‘You’re a genius, Alice! I’ll be upstairs. Don’t interrupt me until dinner. We’ll be dancing at the callback, so I’ll need something carb heavy. Pasta, around six.’ And with that she turned around and went back upstairs.
Dad lifted his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. ‘And now that that crisis is over, I need to get back to the office.’
‘Did they approve your story?’
‘Not exactly,’ he sighed. ‘A corporate espionage story has to be vetted by the legal team. There’s no way they could do that in time.’ Dad walked over to the fridge and got himself a fresh water bottle. ‘The editor said I could keep working on it, but he needs something to fill the news hole for tomorrow. So now I have until the end of today to write a heart-warming tale of a man doing whatever it takes to find his friend.’
Puff pieces always made Dad cranky. They didn’t fit his Arthur Jones Crusader for Truth persona. Plus we both knew Mr Delgado was anything but heart-warming.
‘I’m sorry Dad,’ I said. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?
I saw the trap as soon as the words were out of my mouth, but it was already too late.
‘I’m so glad you asked. Yes, Alice, there is something you can do. I need you to get down to Dr Learner’s apartment and interview his neighbours. Get me some background details, you know, sniff out a personal angle.’
Overhead, Della started tap-dancing. I think she was showing Mom her kick-ball-change. It sounded like a million angry neighbours pounding on the ceiling. Or maybe that was me having a premonition. Dad took my momentary distraction as a chance to make his escape out of the front door. I only just managed to catch up with him.
‘Are you serious? You want me to go to Learner’s apartment building alone and interview the neighbours? What do you think I’m going to find?’
Graham Davidson’s voice popped into my head: He even took his notes home in a locked briefcase every night.
‘Do you think I’ll find Dr Learner’s top secret research? Wouldn’t the police have searched his apartment already?
‘Dr Learner’s only been missing for twenty-four hours. There’s no way the police have been to his place yet. At least not to do more than check and see that he’s really missing. Go on, have a look. Maybe you’ll get lucky.’ Dad smiled. ‘Just get me something sympathetic. Who was the man behind the scientist? That sort of thing. The neighbours will open up to you. No one wants to tell things to a reporter. It makes them feel bad.’
He climbed into the Plymouth and started the engine.
I ran down the steps and stood in front of the car with my hands on the bonnet, blocking him in.
I wanted to ask him why he didn’t get Della to go do his interviews; she is way more likeable than I am. But I didn’t. I knew why Dad asked me. We were a team. We had been since the day I came back to live with him in Philadelphia.
‘Come on Alice, we’re on a deadline. If you’re worried about going alone, call a friend.’ Dad leant out of the window and wiggled his eyebrows at me.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Who’s going to go on such a crazy errand?’ I asked. ‘And don’t say Sammy. I just got rid of him.’
I could tell Dad wasn’t going to give up. When there was a story at stake, he was a man on a mission. I had about thirty seconds before he’d start nudging me with the front bumper to get me out of the way. But just because I was going to help him didn’t mean I had to make it easy.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll do your background research for you. But I want something in return.’
‘Name it.’
‘The killer sudoku puzzle in the paper is mine for the rest of the summer. And the cryptic quip. I get to do the whole thing, and I don’t want you peeking over my shoulder making suggestions.’
Dad looked appalled, like I’d asked him to give me a kidney. ‘How about a month?’
I leant forward and stared him down through the wind-screen. ‘The rest of the summer, take it or leave it.’
‘You drive a hard bargain, Alice.’ He sucked on his teeth. I couldn’t believe he had to think about it. ‘OK, fine,’ he said. ‘It’s yours, but I want detailed notes and photographs of the scene.’
‘Deal.’ I stepped back on to the pavement and Dad cranked the wheel and started to drive away. He slammed on the brakes while he was still halfway in the parking spot and leant out of the window again.
‘Find out if he has a cat. People love a pet angle.’
And then he hit the accelerator and disappeared up the road.
Dad had five hours before his story was due. And I had four before Della needed me to make dinner. There was no time to waste. I took the stairs up to my bedroom two at a time.
‘Della, I’m going out. I’ll be back in time to make dinner.’ That’s what I was going to say, anyway. But I didn’t get the chance.
When I opened the door Della had her back to me, but I could tell from the hunch of her shoulders that she was upset.
‘I know, Mom,’ she said. ‘But it’s really hard. Dad and Alice don’t understand. And Dad’s working on a story . . . ’
I took a step back and shut the door as quietly as I could. The floorboard under my left foot creaked. I froze, but Della didn’t seem to notice.
‘I’m fine,’ she said ‘Alice is cooking dinner tonight. Yes, I told her, carbs.’
It made me roll my eyes and smile at the same time. Even when she was upset, my sister was serious about being an actress.
‘I don’t know. I don’t think she minds. But it’s weird. He’s supposed to be the one taking care of us, not the other way around.’
It felt like I’d been kicked. Della went quiet. I could imagine Mom on the other end of the line, somewhere in a fancy hotel in Italy saying comforting things. They must have worked. Della gave a kind of let’s put all of this behind us sigh.
‘You’re right, I should just focus on the callback. Will you listen to my routine again?’
I used the cover of Della’s time-step to sneak down the stairs. I scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen counter before grabbing my bike and heading out of the door.
It was just after quarter pa
st one and the bright, sharp heat of mid-afternoon was fading into a thick mugginess that radiated off the sides of buildings and sun-baked streets and would last long after nightfall. I rode on the pavement even though you aren’t supposed to. There weren’t many people around, and it seemed a lot safer than being on the street.
I couldn’t believe Della was being such a drama queen. Then again, it was Della. Drama was what she did best. I pedalled hard and wished I hadn’t gone upstairs in the first place, then I wouldn’t be back stuck in the middle of Mom and Dad, the absolute worst place in the world. It was like I was eight all over again, telling Mom I wanted to go back to Philly to live with Dad. My palms were sweating just remembering it.
I took a breath and tried to pretend the whole thing away. Della didn’t know I’d heard her, so as far as I was concerned, it never happened. I was never choosing sides again.
‘Numbers! Hey, what’s up?’
Kevin Jordan came flying out of an alley on the other side of the street. I slammed hard on the brakes. My stomach flipped so impressively it could have run away to join the circus.
‘What do you want?’ I asked.
‘What? Nothing.’ He checked the road quickly and cycled across traffic when it was clear. ‘Your dad just called me. He said you were going to some guy’s apartment and he couldn’t go with you so he asked me.’
My father. The Hero. I planned to kill him when I got home.
I stood still, one foot on the ground, the other perched on the pedal. The boy was like a bad penny. Kevin circled his bike around me.
‘What exactly do you think you’re doing?’ I asked.
‘I just said, your dad asked me—’
‘Yes,’ I cut him off, ‘ but what do you think you’re doing? We aren’t exactly friends. Don’t you have something better to do with your summer than hassle me?’
‘Hey, I’m here to help. No need to get so hostile. Besides, you owe me. You know I was on my third strike at school. I got summer detention because I tried to save you from those guys yesterday. I’m your hero.’
Kevin screwed up his angel face and stared at his shoes. It looked like I was bullying a choirboy. An old lady walking her Maltese gave me a look so dirty you’d think I just crawled out of a sewer grate. A nicer person might have felt bad about that. Not me.
‘No need to be hostile? Look Kevin, I don’t like you. And you don’t like me, so why . . .’ I trailed off. ‘My dad said he’d pay you, didn’t he?’
‘Twenty bucks.’ Kevin grinned so wide I could see he’d forgotten to brush his teeth that morning.
‘Do what you like,’ I said.
Dr Learner lived in the Drake Towers, a small apartment complex next to the Delaware River. We pulled into the car park at the front and locked our bikes to the chain-link fence. The building was made out of concrete, three storeys of pale grey that cut into the skyline like a chisel. An open walkway ran along the second and third floors, so all of the apartments had their own outside door. It looked more like a motel than a place someone would live full-time. It seemed odd that Mr Delgado lived in a mansion while his close friend lived in a place like this, but I guess that’s the difference between owning a business and working for one.
Dr Learner lived in apartment 203, so I skipped the doors on the ground floor and headed straight for the steps. Kevin jogged behind me.
‘So are we just going to knock on the doors and ask people questions?’
‘Pretty much.’
I stopped in front of the first door and raised my hand to knock. Then I stopped and turned to face Kevin. He was grinning like an idiot and making me more than a little nervous.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘This is for my dad’s work. So try to act normal, OK?’
Kevin crossed his heart and hoped to die. The grin didn’t go away. I shook my head. I bet Dad had made this sound really exciting over the phone.
‘And let me do the talking,’ I said.
No one was home at 200. Or at 201. Or, if they were home, they were ignoring me.
I was just starting to think I might get lucky and not have to talk to anyone when I knocked on the door of 202. Whoever lived there must have heard me knocking on the other doors, because they were ready for me.
As soon as my knuckles brushed the wood, the door jerked open so hard it rattled the security chain.
‘What do you want?’
The woman on the other side of the door eyed us like we might be wanted criminals. She was wearing a powder-blue sweatsuit and her hair was dyed the colour of a dull penny. She was due for a touch-up. I could see a line of grey at her roots. I made a mental note to tell Della she should definitely stay blonde.
‘Uh, hi,’ I said. ‘My name is Alice and this is Kevin. We just wanted to ask some questions about Dr Learner. He lives in apartment 203.’
The woman narrowed her eyes.
‘He’s my uncle. He’s gone missing and we’re looking for him,’ Kevin said, polishing up his halo.
I elbowed Kevin hard. What part of ‘let me do the talking’ didn’t he understand?
‘I don’t know what your game is, little missy, but I ain’t playing. And you,’ she sniffed at Kevin, ‘that pretty face doesn’t fool me for one second. If you think you’re gonna smile my door open and steal my jewellery, you picked the wrong old lady to mess with.’
‘Honestly,’ I said. ‘We just want to talk.’
She snorted. ‘If you want someone to talk, try ol’ jabber-jaws in 206. That woman could talk the hind legs off a donkey. Now back up and back off!’ And with that, she slammed the door.
I should have asked for more than just the sudoku puzzle and the cryptic quip.
‘Wow,’ Kevin said.
‘Come on, let’s try the rest of them.’ I walked past Dr Learner’s apartment and knocked on the door to 204. No answer.
‘She was crazy.’ Kevin followed me down the walkway to 205. He might have had a point, but I wasn’t about to admit it.
‘Why? Because she didn’t buy your angel face?’
‘No. Because she was crazy.’ Kevin crossed his arms and leant against the concrete wall while we waited to see if anyone would answer. ‘What are you trying to find out anyway? Do you think one of these people will know where he is?’
‘Not really,’ I said. We walked down to the next door. ‘I’m just doing my dad a favour.’ I knocked on 206. The sooner I could find some background information and get out of there the better.
This time the door opened.
An elderly woman in a flowery tropical dress smiled out at us. She was almost my height, with dark skin that wrinkled happily around her eyes and short, curly grey hair.
‘Hello there. Can I help you?’ A small Pomeranian yipped at us from behind her legs. ‘Quiet, Betsy!’
‘My name is Alice and this is Kevin. We wanted to ask you some questions about Dr Learner from 203.’
‘Come in, come in,’ she said, and shooed us into the living room. Betsy ran circles around her legs. The furniture was as floral as her dress. Small porcelain figures of dogs dressed up as flowers filled the shelves.
‘Please, sit down. It’s so nice to have company. I just baked some cookies. My grandson loves these, but I can always bake some more for when he comes over later.’ She put a plate full of chocolate-chip cookies on the coffee table in front of us, then settled herself down. ‘Now, what did you two dears want to talk about?’
‘Well, Mrs, um?’ I started, picking up a cookie from the plate to be polite.
‘Call me Dot, dear. Everyone calls me Dot.’
‘OK, Dot. We wanted to ask you about Dr Learner. Your neighbour in 203.’
‘Oh, Adrian, such a charming man. He always used to bring me my post. So helpful, although, well, it hardly matters I suppose . . .’
‘What is it?’
‘Well, one doesn’t like to speak ill of the dead . . .’
‘He isn’t dead,’ I said quickly. ‘He’s just missing.’
‘Oh, we
ll, that’s good, then. Would you like another cookie?’ I hadn’t finished the one in my hand, but Kevin had already had three and reached out for another.
‘No, thank you.’ I shot Kevin a disapproving look, which he expertly ignored. ‘What were you going to say about Dr Learner?’
‘Hmm?’
It was like watching treacle roll uphill.
‘Dr Learner. Something was different? You noticed something?’
‘Oh, that. Well, I’m not one to tell tales. And I do think he must have been very busy, so I’m sure it isn’t all his fault. But, well, busy or not you do need to have some consideration for your neighbours.’ She paused. ‘You see, there’s been a sort of smell coming from his apartment. I wouldn’t say anything normally, but poor Betsy makes such a fuss every time we pass the door. Her nose is so sensitive. Isn’t it, Betsy darling?’
My heart sank. It wasn’t exactly the personal angle my father was looking for. I asked a few more questions, but it was pretty clear Dot didn’t know Dr Learner more than to say hello in the morning.
We had to listen to Dot talk about poor Betsy and her sensitive nose for another ten minutes before I managed to talk us out of there. Kevin was no help. He was enjoying his cookies too much.
‘Well, that was a waste of time,’ I said after Dot shut the door. There were four more doors to go. I was starting to get a headache. ‘Come on,’ I said ‘Let’s see who’s behind door number 207.’
I raised my hand but didn’t get the chance to knock.
‘Not another step!’ It might have been the gruff voice, or it might have been the very large hand on my shoulder, but I listened. I didn’t move an inch.
After a second that felt like a year, the hand let go of my shoulder. I saw Kevin breathe again, and I turned around and found myself face to face with the stomach of a very large man. I had to crane my neck to see his face. And even then, all I could see was the underside of his chin. He’d missed a spot shaving that morning.
‘Are you the kids related to Dr Learner?’
‘Who are you?’ I took a step back and got a better look at him. He was wearing a denim jumpsuit decorated with grease stains. It looked like he was the Drake Towers handyman. He had a large toolbox in his left hand and a roll of black plastic bin bags under his arm.