Game Play

by Hazel Edwards

  Amy moved, too. She darted out from behind the palm. Holiday makers walked past. Most wore colourful sun clothes.

  People dragged suitcases on the leads like dog-cases. There were lots of hullos and goodbyes with hugs and kisses.

  But just then, Different Socks headed in the direction of the bin. Amy turned her back and watched him through the reflection in the shop window. It worked like a mirror, backwards.

  What was HE doing there? He pulled out the newspaper. He unrolled it. He looked at something inside. He touched something, looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching, and stuffed the newspaper back in the bin.

  Then he strode away, too.

  With a quick check over her shoulder, Amy spun around. She was determined to see what was so special about that rolled newspaper. After all, MR MUSCLES had offered it to her when they were standing in the Customs line. But perhaps he had been trying to get it past Customs. Maybe she should have taken it then?

  Hurriedly she went to the bin. She pulled out the newspaper. She unrolled it. There was something strange. It was too heavy although the pages were thick. She unrolled the pages. Inside, some pages had been hollowed out.

  There were little strips of pills stuck inside. They looked smaller than the vitamin tablets.

  Was this a steroid-carrying newspaper? Or were they something else?

  Amy looked up. What was she going to do? Why had he dropped the newspaper here? He had already passed through Customs. He hadn’t been caught then. What should she do? Amy made a fast decision.

  She’d put the newspaper back in the bin. Just in case, someone else was expected to collect it. But she’d let Gloria know straightaway.

  Hurry back, Christopher. Why wasn’t he here when he was needed?

  She couldn’t watch the bin AND the lockers and find Gloria.

  Just then, the priest walked past.

  ‘Excuse me!’ Amy called in a loud whisper.

  He turned. ‘What’s wrong with your voice dear? Why are you hiding behind that palm?’

  ‘My brother has gone into the newsagent’s over there. Could you tell him I need him quickly?’

  The priest looked surprised. ‘Why can’t you go and tell him yourself?’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit difficult. Would you mind?’

  ‘Why?’

  Amy burst out, ‘It’s to do with catching smugglers.’ Her voice sounded so loud to her ears. Now everyone in the airport must know.

  She might as well have used a microphone.

  ‘Really? How will getting your brother help?’ Obviously, before acting, the priest liked all the details.

  ‘He’ll find Gloria, the undercover Customs officer. Then we can tell her what I’ve found.’

  The priest thought for a moment. ‘Then why don’t you describe this Gloria to me? I’ll go to the information desk and find her. If she works for Customs, they’d know. Will that help?’

  ‘Thank you.’ Amy wished he’d hurry.

  ‘I’ve had a bit of a problem with my luggage, too. The holy water spilled.’

  As he walked away Amy wondered if that would make his clothes holy? Would the sniffer dogs smell holy water? Why hadn’t the sniffer dogs picked up the newspaper pills?

  Soon, the airport loudspeaker crackled. COULD GLORIA X PLEASE REPORT TO THE INFORMATION DESK?

  Amy hoped Gloria was not still working undercover. That call might have warned every smuggler in earshot. But then they might not know her name. They might not know WHY she was needed.

  Just then Christopher raced up, waving the SPORTS magazine.

  ‘Did you hear that? Perhaps more smugglers have been caught? Someone wants Gloria. Who d’you reckon it must be?’

  ‘Me,’ said Amy in a low voice.

  ‘You?’

  ‘I sent the message ... sort of. Here. Pretend to be looking at this!’

  Amy pushed the Cairns cane-fires postcard under his nose. ‘We’re keeping the bin under surveillance.’

  Being undercover sleuths was hard with loud speaker messages and Christopher screaming around. Any smuggler would have been warned off unless he was blind and deaf. Luckily the priest hadn’t come back, so the twins stood on guard until the breathless Gloria arrived. ‘Got your message. Is that the container?’

  She pointed to the newspaper sticking out.

  ‘Yes.’ Amy pulled it from the bin. She unrolled it carefully, trying not to touch much of the page. She wasn’t sure how fingerprints were checked. Or even if Customs did that sort of thing.

  ‘Ah. I see.’ Gloria’s voice was controlled but the twins could tell she was excited. Her eyes skimmed the surroundings noting the travellers close by. Carefully, she took one tablet and smelled it. Then she fired questions at Amy. ‘Who? When? Where? What else did you notice?

  Anyone watching you when you took it out of the bin the first time?’

  Amy gave quick answers.

  Now Gloria talked quickly into her walkie-talkie. ‘Yes. Pick him up at the front doors. Just for questioning.’ She turned to smile at the twins.

  ‘We’ll have to have the pills tested.’

  ‘Animal or human steroids?’ asked Amy.

  ‘We’ll find out.’

  That’s when Christopher remembered something else. He nudged Amy. ‘What about that other white pill in your pocket?’

  Amy had forgotten that. She felt in her pocket. The pill was still there.

  ‘Show Gloria,’ urged Christopher.

  ‘Show me what?’ Gloria didn’t miss much. She had ace hearing.

  ‘One of the pills which Mr Muscles dropped on the floor in the Customs Hall. From his vitamin container.’

  Gloria put out her hand. Reluctantly, Amy handed over the pill. Was she going to be arrested for smuggling?

  Gloria looked carefully at the pill. She sniffed it. ‘I’ll give it to the lab for testing. When did you pick this up?’

  Gloria rolled the pill in her hand. Flecks of white stuff stuck to her palm.

  ‘’Just before our bags went through. In the Customs Hall,’ said Amy quickly.

  ‘And where exactly was it before?’ Gloria persisted. ‘Was it IN the vitamin container or loose in his bag?’

  So Amy told her. ‘It fell out of the container marked VITTAMINS.’

  ‘I see.’

  Christopher interrupted. ‘How do games officials tell if athletes are on steroids?’

  ‘’Athletes’ urine is tested. Ever since the 1954 Olympic Games, when steroids were first noticed.’

  ‘Yuk!’ said Christopher. He was glad he wasn’t in one of the teams today. He remembered what it was like at the doctor’s.

  Gloria continued. ‘Legal importers of steroids need approval under Customs Prohibited Import Regulation 5H 2.’

  Amy wasn’t interested in all that official stuff. The only thing which interested her was whether Mr Muscles was smuggling steroids. If he wasn’t then she’d been wasting her sleuthing time. Then Amy remembered the CAIRNS bag in the lockers. She turned. ‘Gloria, there was something else. We were wondering about ...’

  But it was too late. The empty lockers looked like pulled tooth sockets. And number 4 was empty with the door swinging, too.

  The bag had gone! Without being noticed, someone had taken the bag from the locker. Who was it?

  Chapter 13

  Old Bags

  ‘Make sure you’re back here by half past,’ Sara called as the twins popped their heads into the UMs office, as promised. ‘There’s another call from your aunt. She’ll be here in twenty minutes.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks.’ They had twenty minutes of airport sleuthing time left. ‘Let’s check these.’

  On a seat outside, Christopher opened the SPORTS magazine to the back pages. ‘Here are the ads Tom was talking about. German ones.

  And
some from India. The ads where athletes are invited to send money for steroids. Only they’re not called that.’

  Amy peered at the ads. ‘But where are the packages to be sent?’

  ‘To the post office which the person writes down.’

  ‘Like Cairns Airport? The poste restante? Or the mail boxes?’

  ‘Could be, I suppose. D’you think Tom did that?’

  ‘Someone calling me?’ Tom Savvas stood over them, holding a large padded bag. ‘I heard you twins followed me to the post office.’

  Christopher wondered how he found that out. Did he watch them? But he said ‘heard’ so the post mistress probably told him. Or the grumpy newsagent. ‘Did you get your package?’ Turning his head,

  Christopher was trying to place the country the stamps came from. Or the currency. That might give a clue where the package was posted. It might match one of the SPORTS ads. ‘Amy collects stamps. Are those

  German stamps?’

  ‘Yes. Would you like them for your collection Amy?

  ‘They looked like deutsch marks.’ Amy said. ‘Thanks.’

  Was Tom researching or was he doing something else? Was he the hunter or the hunted?

  ‘What d’you think this is?’ Tom tapped the padded bag

  ‘Were you researching about mail order steroids?’ asked Amy. ‘Is that why you arranged for a package to be sent here?’

  Tom looked defensive. ‘Ah. A journalist should not reveal all his sources.’

  ‘Have you sent your story in yet?’ asked Amy quickly.

  Tom looked at his fake-designer watch. ‘Ten minutes to my deadline.’

  ‘Did Gloria arrest Mr Muscles?’ Amy asked. ‘We would have come too but she told us not to ...’

  Tom Savvas shook his head and told the twins something surprising.

  ‘No. She detained the soccer player. The one whom Christopher so kindly pointed out to us as wearing different clothes.’

  ‘The one with the different navy track suit?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We became suspicious. He looked at Mr Muscles’ newspaper in the bin. And put it back!’

  ‘I know. I was there! I told Gloria.’ Amy was indignant. That clue was part of her sleuthing.

  ‘Why d’you think he did that?’ asked Christopher.

  ‘Because his luggage already contained steroids,’ suggested Amy.

  ‘Was Mr Muscles his opposition?’

  ‘We’ll find out soon.’ Tom glanced at his watch. I’ve got to meet Gloria, now. To get a quote.’ He strode away, leaving the twins confused.

  Who was the other steroid smuggler? Mr Muscles? Tom Savvas? The soccer player or someone else? And where were the steroids? In the rolled up newspaper? In the CAIRNS bag? Or in Tom’s padded bag? Or somewhere else?

  ‘That’s the same bag. The one with CAIRNS on it.’ Amy pointed.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Christopher stared at Mrs Silver and Mrs Gold who were sitting on a seat, waiting. The bag was between their legs.

  Other bags were piled on the seat.

  ‘There must be hundreds of bags like that.’

  ‘But not with a scuff mark at the side,’ observed Amy. She walked across and sat down beside the elderly ladies.

  ‘Hi, again.’

  ‘Hullo, dear. Hasn’t your aunt arrived yet? We’re waiting for our grand nephew to come. He’s late.’ Mrs Silver fiddled nervously with her gold necklace. ‘He promised he’d be here to help us. Haven’t seen him for years. Probably won’t recognise him.’

  Christopher stared at Mrs Silver’s gold necklace. It was an unusual collection of round pill-like shapes. Could they be steroids? Or was he getting Amy’s ‘mystery-itis’ and suspecting everything?

  ‘Our Aunty Viv is going to collect us in twenty ... er ... fifteen minutes.’ Christopher reached for the bag. ‘Do you need help with your bag? It feels heavy. Is that why you left the bag in the locker?’

  ‘How did you know that?’ Mrs Gold spoke sharply.

  ‘We saw the CAIRNS bag in locker 4,’ explained Amy. ‘The door was unlocked.’

  ‘Yes. And he told us that there would be a key.’ Mrs Silver touched the bag, as if to reassure herself. ‘That’s why we took it out again. It wasn’t safe.’ She fiddled with a nail file.

  ‘We were to leave the key in an envelope for him at the MESSAGES board,’ said Mrs Gold. ‘Such a kind young man to save us carrying such a heavy bag.’

  ‘Shhh,’ cautioned Mrs Silver.

  Amy wondered what was so valuable. Surely the gold and silver bling was so obvious. Customs would have checked.

  ‘Did you have any trouble going through Customs? With your jewellery?’

  Mrs Silver’s hand went to her neck. ‘Not as much as we expected.’ She played with the coin set in the brooch.

  ‘Why did you have the coins set as brooches?’ As a coin collector, Amy was curious. Money was for spending rather than wearing, she thought. It seemed a waste of money to wear it

  ‘One belonged to my aunt. The other one is new.’

  Amy peered at the date on the Mrs Silver’s coin. ‘1964’ Was she a very young aunt?

  ‘We have a very big family. All over the world. Some of the nephews and nieces are older than the aunts and uncles.’

  ‘Are any 100 years old? Like antiques?’

  ‘What do you know about antiques?’ Mrs Gold asked abruptly as a dark haired man strode quickly towards the elderly women.

  ‘Is this your grand nephew?’ asked Amy.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Mrs Silver. ‘Could be. He’ll tell us.’

  That was a bit suspicious. He kissed both of them loudly. He looked quickly at their jewellery and said in a loud voice. ‘Hullo, Aunty Golda. Hello, Aunty Sylvia.’

  Amy listened in amazement. There was something wrong here. Could anyone be named Golda Gold or Sylvia Silver? The elderly women looked confused, too.

  ‘I’m Mrs Gold and this is Mrs Silver. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m your grand nephew Bruce. Don’t you recognise me?’

  Obviously they didn’t.

  ‘My mother wrote and told me you’d be arriving on this flight. She was so happy that you were bringing out the family jewellery. You have got it all, haven’t you? I’ll carry the bag for you.’ He seized the carry bag with the scuff mark.

  ‘When I couldn’t find it in the locker, I was worried. No trouble with Customs about the inherited stuff then?’

  ‘We told them that it was inherited from Great Great Aunt Ruby’s estate.’

  ‘Good. Would you like me to carry it for you now?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. He seemed more interested in getting the bag than helping the elderly women. ‘I’ll bring my car to the front, over there. Then you won’t have to walk so far. I’ll take the luggage now. Meet you out the front in about five minutes.’

  ‘What colour is your car?’

  They didn’t seem to know anything about him.

  ‘It’s a green Toyota. Number plate EJV 362.’

  He fumbled in his pocket for the car keys and a white slip fell out.

  That detail about the number plate seemed to reassure the women. But the twins weren’t so sure. Was he really their nephew? He didn’t seem to know their right names. And why was the original arrangement to leave the bag in the locker for him to collect? Another thing made Amy very suspicious. She nudged her twin. Why was the grand nephew taking out only the CAIRNS bag? Why didn’t he offer to take some of the others, too? What was inside that bag which he wanted so badly? It was very suspicious.

  Christopher picked up the white slip. It was a parking ticket. It was time and date stamped. ‘He won’t be able to get his car out without this.’

  ‘But he’s coming back for us,’ said Mrs Gold and Silver. ‘To drop us at the
hotel.’

  The twins weren’t so sure. They decided to follow him. To return the ticket of course. They followed him and the jewellery bag towards the carpark. He was moving quickly and they had to hurry to keep up.

  They might just have caught up with him if they’d called or ran full speed, but they tailed him instead. Just to see if he did intend coming back.

  ‘Eleven minutes,’ warned Christopher checking the clock above the car-hire counter as they dashed past. ‘Then we’ll have to get back for Aunty Viv. She’ll chuck a mental if we’re not there. That’s five and a half minutes one way. If we don’t find out anything, five and a half minutes back, running!’

  ‘And what if we do find out something?’ Amy protested. ‘Sara expects us back soon.’

  Christopher was getting bossy. Usually she made the ‘hurry up’ decisions.

  ‘We’ll work that out when it happens.’

  Hurrying was the reason Amy fell in the mud of the salt marsh. Grand nephew Bruce strode across the marsh, heading for the carpark. Further out, beyond the ring road was a boardwalk across the mangrove swamp. Would he go that far? Looking up at the air traffic control tower to get their bearings, the twins followed. Luckily other people were walking towards the carpark too, so they didn’t stick out.

  But then Amy slipped. ‘Yuk. My new sneaker!’ Carefully she dragged her sneaker sole along the dry edge. Some mud oozed off. At that moment, grand nephew Bruce stopped, to change hands with the heavy bag and fumble in his pocket for the parking ticket. Luckily for the twins, he seemed to have forgotten where he left it.

  ‘Turn around so he doesn’t see our faces,’ warned Christopher holding his nose. ‘Muddy sneakers will smell in the van later.’

  ‘No worse than the animals. And it’s only one sneaker. It’s almost clean.’

  Christopher was always complaining about smelly feet. Usually hers. Amy sniffed. It wasn’t too bad. If they had time on the way back, she’d go in the chemist and squirt the free perfume near her sneaker.

  That would disguise the smell.

  ‘Hey. Look. He’s moving again.’ Christopher suspected that he was not going to come back for the elderly ladies. And he was right!