‘Oh, sorry,’ I said, forgetting how early it was.
‘Get your breath, and I’ll get you a drink of water,’ he said, before wandering over to the sink.
He came back with a glass of water, which I gulped down gratefully, and sat himself down at his cluttered table. He observed me with his pale possum eyes.
‘OK, down to business. Where’s the money?’
Finally I was able to straighten up and finish off the water. The muscles in my legs stopped burning and my heart rate slowed down. ‘Repro, it’s like this. The situation I find myself in is something like your Singapore martial arts championship.’
Repro frowned. ‘But I didn’t win the martial arts championship.’
‘Exactly. You said you would have won it, if you’d gone to it.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning I would have had the money for you, if I hadn’t already spent it.’
I watched his frown deepen, his cheeks sharpen and pale and his mouth become a thin line. Angry flickers around his eyes told me I was in for an earful.
I braced myself, ready for it.
But it didn’t happen. His face relaxed and he threw his head back, and burst out laughing. ‘You rascal! You cheeky rascal! Like my martial arts championship, eh? Something similar, eh?’
He stopped laughing and moved closer, enquiring with his eyes, suddenly serious. ‘Do you have any money at all?’
‘Not really,’ I said lamely. ‘But I still have every intention of paying you for helping me out. I just haven’t had much luck lately getting that organised. You saved my butt that day at Oriana’s. Last time I saw you, you were yelling at me to jump out the window while that skinny stooge Kelvin was coming at you through the door. How did you end up getting out of there?’
‘He got a lucky hold of me and was about to knock my lights out when I suddenly kicked him and head-butted him in the same movement. I call it my “double horse kick manoeuvre”. I learned it when I was in … never mind where I learned it. Did that make him cranky! He let go a little and that gave me time to spring out of his grasp and scramble out the window.’ Repro demonstrated his moves dramatically as he spoke, sending a couple of his collection towers toppling.
A noise outside made me jump. ‘What was that?’ I hissed.
Both of us froze, turning our attention to the outside world. I became aware of the thumping of a helicopter, and sirens coming closer. I heard feet running past the frail cover of the rusting filing cabinets. If they bash through that line of defence, I thought, we’re dead. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Had I brought danger to Repro again?
The feet moved away.
A few moments more and everything was quiet again.
‘You said there was another way here,’ I reminded Repro. ‘You said there were two tunnels?’
He shook his head. ‘No, no, no. Way too dangerous. Way too dangerous.’
‘What’s the problem?’ I asked.
He started pulling a bookcase away from the back wall. ‘Come see for yourself.’
Moving the bookcase had revealed the opening of a tunnel, about the size of a small fireplace. I peered into it. There was nothing but blackness.
‘I can’t see anything.’
Repro pushed the bookcase back. ‘That’s because I think it’s blocked. Dangerous rock falls. I haven’t been game to use it for a very long time. So anyway,’ Repro said, changing the subject back to his escape from Oriana’s place. ‘It was sheer artistry on my part. Do you know the advice of Sun Tzu, the great general of ancient China?’
I had to admit I didn’t have a clue who he was talking about.
‘I’ve learned a lot from him, as well as from the street and my martial arts training. The general’s advice worked perfectly with that hot-headed clown back at Oriana’s place!’ chuckled Repro. ‘“If the enemy is hot tempered and irrational, enrage him”,’ he recited. ‘And that’s why I mocked and laughed at him from the window before I left!’
Repro squatted and made a ridiculous face and waved his fingers around his head.
I nodded, understanding. When a person is hot tempered and irrational to begin with, more provocation can only make him worse, and therefore they are much more likely to make a mistake.
‘He came at me running, just about busting out of his clothes with rage, just dying to get his ugly paws on me. But I skipped sideways, out onto the tree, and he went sailing through the window! I was fine, clinging onto the branch beside the window, while he crashed straight down. Not quite straight down, actually. He went through the roof of the garden shed which broke his fall and probably saved his neck. It was a very satisfactory outcome … for me. So while he was wailing and carrying on down there, pulling broken bits of pot plants out of his hair, I scrambled down the sensible way, using the tree and the drain pipes, and was back here safe and sound with my collection, probably before he was even up on his legs again.’
‘Awesome,’ I said, and I meant it.
I filled Repro in on what I’d been up to since we last saw each other, and I promised that I would pay him for his help in keeping Oriana de la Force’s thugs off my back that time.
‘You must be on to something very big,’ he said, ‘to have those sorts of heavies after you. Plus Vulkan Sligo. Must be worth a lot,’ he added, looking at me slyly.
‘I have to live long enough first,’ I said, standing up, ready to leave. ‘Thanks for letting me in, especially after lying to you. You probably saved me from being arrested.’
‘Maybe you’ll be a rich man one day, Cal Ormond,’ he said. ‘Just don’t forget me then.’ He gave his cheesy grin, and the possum eyes shone with mischief as I slipped out through the cabinet.
250 days to go …
Back at the boathouse, I’d been lucky with a fishing rod I’d hooked up and had caught a couple of redfin perch. There were plenty of carp, but you’d have to be desperate to eat them. And I wasn’t quite that desperate.
I’d made a frying pan out of the bottom of a large tin and fried up my fish on a small campfire beside the boathouse. It was a good little fire and didn’t smoke much at all.
As I waited for the small fish to cook, I thought about Rafe at the cenotaph. I also thought again of the strange words Mum had said to me back at the hospital. Something about telling me what had happened when I was very young … what had she meant by that?
I didn’t even know if the ‘something’ that had ‘happened’ had happened to me or to someone else in the family. Had something dreadful happened when I was little, like a house invasion or a bushfire? Or a car accident? What had she meant? It had sounded like something that she thought was responsible for me going crazy and hurting my uncle and my sister. Had she dropped me on my head?! Had the legacy of whatever had happened made me more likely to see things that weren’t there?
I carried the cooked fish back into the boathouse and ate them straight out of the pan. They tasted so good, but I couldn’t ignore the horrible feeling in my stomach—I needed answers, and I needed them bad. There were too many secrets in my family. Too many things hidden away. Whatever Dad had uncovered in Ireland was casting long and dangerous shadows over me. And what did Rafe know about the Ormond Angel?
Like Repro had said, whatever it was, it had to be big. And Mum’s words puzzled and intrigued me. Was she implying that the long and dangerous shadows had been there all along, from when I was little? Did she—and maybe Rafe—know something about me that I didn’t know?
248 days to go …
if all’s clear, i’ll b there in the morning.
great! c u then. just b careful who’s around b4 u come down to the river.
will do. cya. can’t wait 2 c riddle.
247 days to go …
I was wiping dust away from the boathouse bench, waiting for Boges to show up, when my mobile rang.
I knew the voice straight away.
‘Hey, Cal,’ she said. ‘How are you, stranger?’
There is such a th
ing as a happy shock, which is what Winter had just given me. It’s quite different from a bad shock. But it’s still a shock.
‘Hey,’ I said, ‘I was just thinking of you a little while ago.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Well, I hope it’s good—really depends on what were you thinking.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘I guess.’ I couldn’t exactly tell her what had been on my mind—that I didn’t fully trust her but I was willing to take a risk. ‘Do you mean,’ I asked, ‘what was I thinking when I was thinking of you a while ago? Or what I think about what you just said just then?’
I shut up suddenly. I was raving like a moron. Her giggle floated down the line and made me feel funny—a mixture between embarrassed and wanting to laugh out loud.
‘Not sure I followed all that,’ she said. ‘Maybe I better tell you what I’m thinking.’
‘Yep, do that,’ I said with relief.
‘Actually, I’ll tell you what I’m not thinking first. I’m not thinking that you left a man to drown in a creek.’
‘Of course I didn’t.’
‘I’m also not thinking that you went to the hospital to try and hurt your sister.’
‘Right again,’ I said, relieved to hear from another person who knew I wasn’t out to harm anyone.
I knew that Boges was on his way and I felt awkward because I knew he didn’t trust Winter. And yet she was smart—maybe she could help with solving the Ormond Riddle.
‘It would be cool if I knew where you were right now,’ she said, ‘because if I did, maybe you would invite me to join you? We could have something to eat. Listen to music. Just sorta hang out. My tutor isn’t coming today. So what do you think? Where are you now?’
I hesitated for a second. ‘I found a new place; it’s an old boathouse. Down on the riverbanks under the backyard of the house that I guess owns it. I don’t think anyone’s been near the place in years. Besides me,’ I added.
Winter took down the address and I explained to her how to find it. Like I’d said to Boges, I warned her about coming in quietly and unseen. I didn’t want old Elvira noticing the new tenants in her boathouse.
‘So when are you coming?’ I asked.
‘Soon!’ was all she said before hanging up. I didn’t know what to make of her. Maybe she liked me. Maybe not. I wanted so bad to be able to trust her, but all I could say was that she confused the hell out of me.
I heard someone outside and froze. When a careful glance out of the dusty window revealed who it was I quickly opened the door.
‘Boges!’ I said, so happy to see my friend.
‘Man, this is cool!’ he said, as he carefully stepped inside and looked around. ‘You have yourself a waterfront property! Oh, so posh,’ he added, walking over and turning on the cold water tap and trying the light. ‘Even an indoor swimming pool,’ he added, indicating the dark water that gurgled at the river-end of the boathouse. ‘It’s weird to be back near the river, after such a long time.’
Boges had come with plenty of good stuff for me—tinned soup, bread, ham, biscuits, nuts, energy bars, chips, bottled water and a few more chocolate bars. From the very bottom of his bag he drew out a cool little electric hot plate that he’d retrieved from the throw-out in his street.
‘All it took was a bit of fiddling with the wiring,’ he said proudly, setting it down on the counter after clearing some space for it among the jars of fish hooks and dusty reels. ‘Works perfectly now.’
He switched it on to demonstrate, and very soon the coil of the hot plate glowed a dull red.
‘Thanks, Boges,’ I said. ‘That’s awesome. I cooked myself up some fish the other night, but was a little worried about the smoke. This,’ I pointed to the hot plate, ‘is perfect. I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you for all this stuff.’
‘Leave that to me,’ laughed Boges. ‘There are quite a few jobs I’m going to be calling you in on. Like painting the ceiling at our house. It’s even worse than this place.’
‘When I crack the Ormond Riddle, find out the secret my dad was onto, and become rich and famous, maybe I’ll be able to pay someone to do it for you!’
‘You never know!’ Boges laughed. ‘Now, my friend, show me the Ormond Riddle!’
Carefully, I lifted the soft parchment out of its sleeve in the folder in my backpack, and handed it to him. He had already pulled out a pen and his battered little notebook with the elastic round it.
‘Wicked! Here it actually is!’ he said, scratching his head. ‘The Ormond Riddle!’
I listened while Boges read it aloud.
Boges lifted his head from his reading and looked at me. ‘Nothing’s coming to me … yet. Have you had any brilliant ideas?’
‘First thing I should tell you,’ I said, ‘is that there are only six lines here, not eight. You can see where it looks like the last two lines have been cut off.’
Boges looked more closely at the paper’s edges and frowned. ‘You’re right. Someone’s cut this, for sure. That’s not going to make it any easier. But I guess that was the idea. Actually, I can tell you one thing. “Gules”.’
‘Gules? What about it?’
‘It means “red” in heraldry,’ he said, as he scribbled in his notebook.
‘Sorry, but I don’t speak heraldry,’ I said.
‘Heraldry,’ Boges repeated, ‘is the study of families and their shields—like the Ormond shield.’
‘There’s an Ormond shield?’ I asked.
Boges whisked through the photographs on his mobile until he found the one he was looking for. ‘Here it is. I got it off the net. It might be helpful.’
It was divided into four quarters, two of them red with what looked like eggs in cups on them. I pointed to the red bits of the shield. ‘So that’s gules,’ I said. ‘OK, now all we have to do is work out the rest of it.’
Boges turned his attention back to the Riddle and read it again.
‘This is going to require all my brain capacity,’ he sighed, tucking the notebook back in his pocket. ‘So let’s get all the drawings out again. Maybe if we put everything together—the drawings and the Riddle—and study them as a group, something will make sense. I think I also need some serious brain food. Give us one of those chocolates I brought, will ya?’
I tossed him one, which he tore open and then snapped in two. He passed the smaller piece to me.
While Boges sorted through the drawings, I filled him in about what happened at the hospital, and also back in the country. I told him all about being run off the road by the monster SUV driven by Kelvin and Sumo, and having to hold Lachlan’s head above water so that he wouldn’t drown. I told him about my crazy night in the bush in the middle of a freaking live fire exercise, with bullets whistling past my head and the sumo wrestler tracking me down and getting himself wounded in the crossfire. What a stroke of luck that was.
I told him about stowing away in the back of Mrs Snipe’s car, and how she’d known all along I was there, and instead of freaking out and calling the cops, invited me in for dinner. And lastly I told him about meeting Griff Kirby, the guy who woke me up while trying to steal my bag.
Boges grinned and made a joke of it. ‘What is it about you? Ending up in the boots of women’s cars?’
I looked up from the last drawing, hesitant about what I was going to say next. I didn’t want Boges to think I was cracking up. But I had to tell him.
‘Boges, I saw that kid again,’ I said, ‘the one that looks—or used to look—the spitting image of me.’
‘Where?’ he asked.
‘Not far from here. I was on my way to the shops because I’d run out of food. He was coming out of the Greenaway Park high school. We eyeballed each other. But I took off because he was pointing me out to a friend of his. He was just as shocked as I was.’
Boges stared at me in silence.
‘I tell you, Boges. I know what I saw. It was him.’
‘You’re telling me you saw the guy who looks exactly like you?’
<
br /> ‘He’s heavier than me, and looks a lot … healthier than I do.’
‘And he just keeps turning up all of a sudden. How can you be so sure?’
Now, some time after, I had to admit that I didn’t know how I could be so sure.
‘Boges, I reckon he’d be trying to change his appearance, too. He wouldn’t want to be going around looking like the State’s Most Wanted! He must know that he looks like the Psycho Kid. People must give him crap over it all the time!’
But who was he really? I wondered.
I went on to explain to Boges my latest theory—that maybe the look-alike kid had attacked Gabbi and Rafe, and that was why they thought I was responsible.
Boges considered this for a while. ‘I just don’t see why some total stranger, even if he does look like you …’ I could see Boges was not remotely convinced. ‘There’s got to be a motive,’ he continued. ‘Human beings don’t do things without a reason. Even crazy things—there’s always a reason—even if it’s the voices in their head.’
‘The look-alike kid could have a reason—if he did it. We just don’t know about it yet.’
‘I don’t think so, Cal,’ Boges said firmly, before turning back to the drawings.
Even Boges with his supercharged brainpower had to admit defeat. He couldn’t find any strong connections. He threw down the pen he’d been holding. ‘I’m not making any sense of it,’ he said. ‘But I’ll take it home with me and keep working on it.’ He took a shot of it with his mobile.
‘Now let’s do something about your blog,’ he said, opening his laptop and turning it to face me.
I read out what I’d written to Boges and he nodded with approval. ‘Sounds good, man. I’ll upload it as soon as I can get to an internet cafe,’ he promised. ‘Nothing personal, dude, but I don’t want anything related to you anywhere on my system.’
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