And there it was.
The solution to all this was right there, in that name.
Suddenly all the clues came rushing out of my head at once, and the tiny pieces of diamond linked up together. The chain was complete. I snatched a piece of paper and scribbled everything down, like this:
“Ha!” I waved the piece of paper in Grandad’s face.
“It looks like a plate of spaghetti,” he said. “I hate spaghetti.”
“That’s the inner workings of my mind.”
“Well that explains a lot. So what do we do now?”
“First, I need…” I frantically looked around the office, rooting about in cupboards and drawers.
“You need…? Your head examined?” said Grandad.
At last, I found what I was looking for. I whipped open a large plastic bag with a flourish. “I need to hide the mask.” I slipped the bag over the mask so that most of it was covered. I used a smaller bag to hide the top. “Perfect,” I said. “Second, we need to get it out of here. I need to disappear out of this office, out of the school. And you and the Mumbari are going to help me.”
Grandad nodded. “That we can do.”
Chapter 32
The Bus Trip
After sneaking back into the library and slipping my mum’s keys back into her bag, I returned to the office and left by the office door. Grandad and the Mumbari scouted out my exit from the school, making sure I wasn’t seen by anybody as I left with the mask.
I flagged down the next bus heading into town.
There were only about three people on it, and two of them were asleep. Grandad slumped down beside me on the back seat of the lower deck. He didn’t say a word, he was just watching.
“You’re quiet,” I said.
He didn’t reply, he just blinked, showing me what the Mumbari were up to. There were about twenty of them crammed into the lower deck, some of them missing arms, some missing legs, some missing their heads. It seemed they thought they were on some kind of day trip. They were all babbling excitedly. In fact, I’d never seen people so excited by a ride on a Glaswegian bus before. They were gazing around in wonder, and gesticulating in amazement at things like the luggage rack and the ticket dispenser and even the disabled seat that flipped up and down.
A few had gone upstairs to see what the top deck looked like. They now beckoned down to their colleagues, who all rushed up in a great, ghostly, swirling spiral, sucking in the air as they went.
“Any chance you could get them to go back inside the mask for a bit?” I asked.
He puffed his cheeks out. “I will try, but I am not promising anything.”
When we reached the Clyde I pressed the stop button and we all got off – me, my ghost grandad and the horde of dead African tribesmen.
The river was glistening in the bright afternoon sun. I sat on a bench and pulled back the edges of the plastic bag, pointing as politely as I could towards the mask’s wide grinning mouth. It took ages for Grandad to persuade them to get back in. One of them spotted a kebab shop and they all wanted to go and have a look at it. Eventually, after being allowed to see the wonders of the rotating spit, and witness as someone ordered a doner kebab and then ate it, they all whizzed up in a great swooshing circle and disappeared into the mouth of the mask.
“Phew!” I said.
“What now?” asked Grandad.
“Next,” I said, “I need to make a phone call.”
I strolled over to a payphone, picked up the handset and dialled a number.
Specifically, the number for Big A Printers. I had a hunch that someone important might answer it, partly as the number ended in 212, and partly because by now someone back at school would have discovered the missing mask, and word would have got out. I was betting the person who answered the line was key to the investigation and that Big A Printers had very little to do with printing.
It rang a few times, before an answerphone message kicked in. That was a tiny bit disappointing, as I was hoping for a human voice, maybe even the voice of the person who caused all this.
“Hello,” I said, after the bleep, “it’s Jay Patel here. I have something you want. And you have something I want too…”
Chapter 33
The Squinty Bridge
A few hours later I was standing in the middle of a bridge across the river, with the African tribal mask stuffed under my arm.
They call it the Squinty Bridge. I’m not sure why, though squinty was a good word to describe how I was feeling after all I’d been through in the last few days.
The bridge was busy, both with people and traffic. Blocks of designer flats and hotels surrounded it on either side, and, slightly further away, the armadillo-like hulk of the Exhibition Centre and needle-like tower of the Science Centre dominated the landscape. A mild breeze blew up the river, bringing with it spits and spots of Atlantic rain.
“I do not like this,” said Grandad, eyeing the steel arch that curved overhead. “I am not sure this was a good idea. Why didn’t you call the police earlier? You could have let them deal with this.”
I’d telephoned Graves only ten minutes before I got here. But there was a good reason why: “They wouldn’t approve of me doing this.”
And I wasn’t wrong. DI Graves had nearly flipped after I told her my plan. I’m not sure she was all that bothered about me putting myself at risk, but she was more than bothered about losing the diamonds. And all she was going to get in return was yet another interfering child.
“SO?” said Grandad.
“So, this swap is the only way of saving Sian. The bad guys get their diamonds back, and we get her. Only…” I checked my watch, “as long as Graves arrives on time then the bad guys will not be making a getaway. And it is game, set and match to us.”
Still, I had to give Graves her due. Once she realised that I was determined to go ahead with my plan she warmed to it. She made a few calls. As soon as the swap was made and me and Sian were safe, the cop cars would all come swarming out of the side streets and seal off the escape. At least, that was the plan.
I shrugged. “I think it’s a good plan. I think my plan is going to work.” I was more nervous than I seemed, but it felt good to have so many police on the way. What could possibly go wrong? They do say pride comes before a fall, and I was about to have a bit of a big one.
A vehicle drew to a halt at the north end of the bridge, facing towards us. It flashed its headlights.
“That’ll be it,” I said.
“I will go ahead and check it out,” said Grandad, and he floated ahead of me. As I walked slowly in the direction of the van, a hooded figure got out of the passenger-side door and stood facing me, legs apart.
It wasn’t until I got quite close that I saw who the figure was, and it wasn’t who I thought it was going to be. That freckled face, ginger hair poking out, and the eyes, too close together. Eyes that gleamed with menace. He drew back his hood to reveal the beanie hat. It was Ginger.
“You’ve got something we want,” he growled.
Grandad’s ghostly form erupted from the side door of the van.
“OUCH!”
“I hate that!” He flapped at me. “Jayesh! She’s not here! There’s no Sian!”
I froze, wondering what was happening. If they’d tricked me, then why? What was their game?
Grandad pointed behind my shoulder, shouting, “LOOK OUT!”
I turned, only to find Ginger’s friend, Fred, breathing down my neck.
“Aye, we’ve got a wee something for you,” he sneered. “But first, you’ve to take a wee trip down the Clyde with us.”
“I… what?”
Before I knew it, the men grabbed me. They swiped the mask from under my arms, then hoisted me in the air and launched me over the side of the bridge. Ginger snarled as I fell: “Your friends aren’t watching the river, are they?”
What happened next was a blur. The pounding of my heart as I tumbled, the whirling city, the freezing cold smash of the water
hitting my face. A horrible thought… of plummeting into the dark depths… coming to rest on the muddy riverbed, in between the rusting hulks of old ships and discarded shopping trolleys.
Then, a pair of hands grabbing me under the shoulders, yanking me from the water and dumping me on the floor of a speedboat. A gun, an actual gun, poking in my face. Me, shivering, barely able to talk, my clothes dripping wet.
And finally, to cap it all off, a dull whack across my head. Blinding lights, and falling. A boat engine roaring to life, and the rush of water.
My brilliant plan wasn’t going brilliantly well.
Chapter 34
The Crane Revelation
By the time I came to my senses, day had turned to night, and the mild breeze blowing in off the ocean was less than mild. It was very cold indeed. At least it was to me, soaked as I was to the skin, and shivering. My head ached, my jaw ached, every part of me ached. And that wasn’t the worst part of my situation.
I jerked my wrist, only to find both hands were lashed to a rusty railing. But there was something worse. I gazed down to find I was slumped on a metal walkway grill. I could see lights below it, streetlights. Far below, a hundred metres maybe. And what did that mean?
“Jayesh! Are you OK?” It was Grandad, his pale, worried face peering into mine. “I thought I had lost you there, boy.”
“I’m OK,” I coughed.
“Good, I’m glad,” said another voice. I felt a tug on my arm. It was Sian, who was tied up next to me.
“Oh, you’re alive,” I said. That was a positive at least.
“The night is young,” she replied, watching a set of figures emerge from the darkness.
I recognised two of them straight away. One tall and thin, the other short and fat, both wearing beanies. They hung back, on the other side of a wide gap. A worryingly wide gap, with only very low railings blocking a sheer drop to the ground.
“Stay back, boys,” came the voice of the third figure, who stepped into the amber half-light from the city below.
In that one moment, all my theories were proven right. That person was the architect of all this: a diamond smuggler, a murderer – a TRIPLE murderer. And she hadn’t even started on me and Sian yet.
“Hello, Mrs Cravat,” I said.
Mrs Cravat’s eyes were cold and steely now. I’d never noticed that before. Were they always that cold, that steely?
Her hair was different too, not neat and conservative, tied back as it was at school, but hanging loose to her shoulders, almost wild, with stray bits flicking here and there.
And the clothes she wore were a far cry from the straight-laced outfits of a school office manager. She wore black leathers and cowboy boots.
The corners of her mouth turned up. I wouldn’t go as far as saying it was a smile, as there was no warmth in it, not one bit. It was more of a smirk.
“You didn’t think I was that stupid, did you?” Her voice was deeper, huskier than usual, and she was chewing gum.
I looked around, pretending I didn’t know who she was speaking to. “Oh, you’re talking to me,” I said.
She snorted. “Funny guy. You thought I wouldn’t twig that the cops were coming. Well, how did that work out?”
I would’ve liked to have come back with a joke, but that horrible throbbing in my head was only getting worse. “What happened?”
“They chucked you into the water,” said Grandad. “There was a speedboat waiting. Clever trick. The police turned up a minute later. They never even saw where you went.”
Mrs Cravat leant closer and blew a giant gum bubble in my face. It grew and grew and then it popped. “No one knows where you are.” She laughed. I could hear Fred and Ginger chuckling in the background too. “Thanks though, for getting my diamonds back for me.” She gazed up at the tribal mask, which was dangling from a pole above us, wafting gently in the breeze.
Grandad made a flapping motion. “Those Mumbari guys, they really are mad now. They’ve all come out again. ‘Where are we?’ they say. ‘Where have they taken us?’ I have tried to explain. They just want to go home.” He turned and shouted, “Keep your heads, eh, boys!” Even though they didn’t all have heads.
“What is this place?” I croaked.
“It’s the ‘Mammoth’,” chipped in Sian. “One of those humungous cranes that sits on the banks of the Clyde.”
“Very good, someone’s been paying attention in class,” said Mrs Cravat. “It’s a giant cantilever crane to be exact, one of the last ones.” She began strutting around, as if conducting a tour. “You know, I bought this thing for a pittance. My plan was to open it up as a tourist attraction. Fifty thousand fake visitors were going to pass through here every year.”
“Fake visitors?” said Sian.
“Another one of her money-laundering businesses,” I said. “She takes the hard cash she gets for selling the smuggled diamonds and puts it through one of her fake businesses. In this case, it would look like visitors were paying cash to come and see the crane. She puts it in a bank, and the money seems legitimate again.”
“Wow!” said Sian. “That’s fifty thousand people at, what, five pounds a head?”
“Seven pounds,” said Mrs Cravat.
“Hmm…three hundred and fifty grand a year.” Sian puffed her cheeks out. “That’s a lot of laundry.”
“Exactly,” said Mrs Cravat. “You’re quite the sleuth, aren’t you, Mr Patel? And you, Ms Hanlon, quite the budding reporter. Well, thanks to you two and your meddling, all this is never going to happen.” She poked a rusted piece of metal with her foot. It spun off the edge, into the darkness below. “Just as well, really. I mean, look at this place. It’s a health and safety nightmare. In fact, the whole thing is on the point of falling down.” She cupped her hands to her mouth and whispered, with a gleeful smirk, “There’s a huge gas main underneath. It could blow at any moment. One spark, and…
”WHOOF!”
Mrs Cravat pointed out a bright orange glow in the skyline to the south. “See that? That’s Big A Printers back in Pollockshields. That was my main money-laundering operation. It was part legit as well, to be fair, as we did the odd bit of printing work that came our way, just for appearances sake. Not that I could really be bothered. How did you link Big A to the murders, by the way?”
“I noticed that Big A Printers did equally bad work for the school and for Duke’s Laundry.”
“Shame, because of you it had to go. I’m good at starting fires, me. On the bright side, it was a brilliant diversion. Most of the emergency services in Glasgow are at the scene. Oh, and that includes your friends, Mr Patel. They all think that’s where we took you. Like I said, no one knows you are here. Which means I can do what I want with you. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” She leaned even closer. I could smell the sweet bubblegum flavour on her breath, tinged with cigarette smoke and coffee. “A nice little explosion should do the trick.”
Chapter 35
The Gangster Pancake
“You can’t escape,” I said to Mrs Cravat. “They know you’re responsible for all this. They’ll track you down.”
“Na!” she said, with a self-satisfied grin. “I’ve got my cash, got my diamonds…” She patted a bulge in her jacket pocket. “Also got a private jet ready to whisk me off. By tomorrow morning I’ll be in Brazil. They’ll never get me. Of course, my boss won’t be very happy. This was a nice little earner for him too, and you ruined it.”
“Your boss?” I asked. “You have a boss?”
She shrugged. “Everyone has a boss, even in my business. He’s a very important guy. He underwrote the whole thing. Dangerous too. But there are places in the world that even he can’t reach, and that’s where I’m going.” She pushed herself up so she was sitting on top of a metal cabinet, swinging her legs. “So, how did you know it was me?”
“Yeah,” said Grandad. “I want to know that too, because for the life of me I cannot work it out.”
“A lot of things really,” I sa
id. “I kept thinking about what linked Morrison to the school. I mean, what brought him there. Then I checked out Big A Printers online. Companies House have your name listed as company director. You wear a beaded African necklace and you have a huge African mask on your office wall – the only evidence I’ve ever seen of our supposed twin school in Africa.”
Sian gasped and pointed a finger at Mrs Cravat. At least, she would have if she’d been able to move a finger. She couldn’t even get it past her ear. “You! You’re the person Morrison met on the Squinty Bridge.”
“That’s right,” I said. “That’s what you were about to tell me in the smoothie bar before Fred and Ginger kidnapped you.”
“Yes, and don’t think you weren’t noticed, dear,” Mrs Cravat said to her. “I saw you too that day on the bridge. Why else do you think I kidnapped you?”
“Morrison came to threaten you and demand more money,” I said. “You killed Morrison with the wooden stave that goes with the mask. And then you called your business partner, Maw Cleggan, who sent over her two pals to help shift the body. Unfortunately, my mum found the body before they had a chance.”
“But that wasn’t the biggest clue,” I said. “There was Big Davie. He died before he could report what we’d found on the CCTV. I checked the school handbook, the one printed by Big A. It said:
All incidents of a criminal nature are to be reported through the school office.
That’s when I worked out, he didn’t go and shift the grand piano first, like he said he was going to do. He must have changed his mind. He must have thought better of it, given that there was a dead body and all. He came and spoke to you first, the school office manager.”
Top-Secret Grandad and Me Page 11