‘Well, this is excellent news, Curtis, but I’m afraid right now we need to get our heads around all of the facts about our recent maritime incident and find out who is trying to do away with the Spencer family,’ Cordelia said as Song pressed a button that lowered a giant glass screen from the ceiling. ‘And then I want you children to go and pack so we can be ready to leave first thing in the morning for New York.’
Anna looked at her mother-in-law. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea? After what just happened?’
‘My dear, it’s clear that we’re in danger here at the moment. I would much prefer that you and Edward and Fitz were coming with us too, but I understand that your work comes first. I should think the children will be much safer squirrelled away in New York with me than here or in London.’
Anna smarted at the woman’s comment. ‘I’ll cancel my surgery roster.’
‘Oh, there’s no need to do that, Anna. The children will be fine and I know how hard you’ve worked to get your registration in order. You don’t want to disappoint your patients now,’ Cordelia said.
While her mother-in-law sounded genuine, Anna couldn’t help feeling that she was still being judged.
‘Mother’s right, darling. The children will be fine with her and we’ll join them for the awards ceremony on Thursday evening,’ Ed said. ‘You can’t postpone. People are relying on you.’
‘I’ll get there as soon as I can,’ Fitz said. ‘But in the meantime, Song can keep a close eye on things.’
Max felt a squirl in his stomach. Somehow he didn’t feel quite as secure with Song as he used to.
‘Right. Let’s get to work, shall we?’ Cordelia flipped open a small antique box and took out something that resembled a marker pen. ‘So what do we already know?’
Fenton Grady turned the key in the last lock. ‘Well, Smelly, are you comin’ or not?’ He eyed the scrawny black cat on the other side of the grille. The creature gave a devil-may-care flick of its tail before turning and walking away.
‘Suit yourself, but don’t blame me when Stinky eats all the treats,’ the man said as he straightened his cap and brushed some dust from his white superintendent’s overalls. They were surprisingly clean given he’d spent half the morning unblocking a pipe under the sink in apartment number five.
At the mention of the word treats, the cat spun around and scampered through the bars, meowing its approval.
‘Knew you couldn’t resist, you old devil,’ the man said as the cat followed him to his office in the apartment block’s basement. It jumped up onto a stack of cardboard boxes and Fenton gave the old moggy a rub on the head. ‘Don’t you go getting your mangy fur all over my deliveries. The people who live in this building notice things like that.’ He shooed the creature back down then put a handful of freeze-dried chicken snacks into a bowl on the floor. A second cat emerged and the pair scoffed the biscuits until there was nothing left. Both retreated to their preferred spots – Smelly on the top of Fenton’s filing cabinet and Stinky behind a pile of boxes.
Fenton poured himself a cup of strong black coffee and opened a packet of Oreos. He then carried the recently boiled kettle over to his desk where he watched the steam rising from the spout. It was a good trick his grandma had taught him many years ago – no one would be any the wiser. Fenton sat down at his desk and pulled the pile of envelopes towards him, then began what he considered to be his most satisfying work of the day.
Two black limousines had collected the Spencer family from Teterboro Airport ten minutes before midday. The vehicles were a familiar sight in the city – although not quite as prevalent as the yellow taxi cabs that clogged the streets.
Kensy, Max and Curtis were travelling with Cordelia at her request. They’d taken the FDR along the East River, which meant so far all they’d seen was a freeway and lots of high-rise buildings. It was only when the car turned right into East 63rd Street that the children began to get a proper feel for the place.
‘It’s so busy,’ Kensy commented as the car travelled west along the one-way avenue.
The lunch hour had deposited crowds of office workers onto the streets.
Cordelia nodded. ‘Yes, New York is the sort of place that one could hide in plain sight if that was the desired objective.’
The children looked at each other.
‘Is that what we’re doing?’ Max asked.
‘Of course not. We’re here for a holiday and so you can all celebrate my award. I just mean it’s the sort of place one might easily get lost among the millions,’ Cordelia clarified.
But Max wasn’t convinced and neither was Curtis. Cordelia had said something about plain sight on the telephone the other night when they’d overheard her conversation. The boys exchanged curious glances.
‘What’s the name of the hotel we’re staying in?’ Kensy asked as she pressed her face against the window and marvelled at the mix of buildings, old and new.
Cordelia realised that in her haste to get the family away she hadn’t told them any details about their accommodation.
‘No hotel, darling,’ the woman replied.
‘Don’t tell me you have another house, Granny?’ Kensy said, thinking it was getting a touch ridiculous the number of properties her grandmother owned around the world.
‘Well, yes, I do, but don’t worry – it doesn’t sit here idle and unoccupied,’ the woman said.
‘What do you use it for?’ Kensy asked, but she didn’t get an answer.
The driver pulled up out the front of a stunning Georgian townhouse. It was wedged between a high-rise apartment block with a pretty blue striped awning and a doorman dressed in a smart navy uniform on one side and an ornate three-storey brownstone that housed an upmarket jewellery store on the other. The townhouse was at least five storeys high and had four windows across. The wrought-iron gate slid open before the car turned sharp left into a driveway and proceeded into a box-like garage. Max went to open the door, but was met with a sharp rebuke from his grandmother. He soon realised why as the vehicle descended into a basement large enough to house at least half a dozen vehicles. The car exited the compartment then the driver parked beside a lift where he opened the doors and the family hopped out.
Curtis looked around, taking everything in. ‘Didn’t expect that,’ he said.
‘Granny’s house in London has a garage almost the same – except you can fit even more cars in there,’ Kensy said. ‘She clearly loves paying engineers and builders.’
‘Well, they are the experts and I do enjoy a good entrance – especially when it’s a little surprising,’ the woman said with a cheeky grin.
‘You mean, like the boat lair,’ Max said.
‘Actually, your great-grandfather had that built during the Second World War,’ Cordelia said. ‘The British Navy used it as a base and afterwards MI6 requisitioned it to keep an eye on the Russians. It’s only been back in exclusive family use since the late 1960s.’
Max pondered what she’d just said. ‘So there would be people outside of Pharos who know about it then?’
Cordelia nodded. ‘That was a long time ago, but, yes, you’re right. Though how many of them would still be alive is debatable.’
Yesterday when the family had put their heads together about the identity of the person or people who wanted them dead, no one was considered off limits – except that, of course, Max didn’t mention his concerns about Song and the man’s strange ability to be out of harm’s way every time something really bad happened. It would have been tricky to accuse him while he was standing right there, but Max planned to share his thoughts with his sister when they got some time alone. Kensy had finally told everyone her suspicions about Shugs only to learn that it simply wasn’t possible. The day they were abducted in the taxi in London he was working with Mim in the garden, planting a new hybrid variety of corn – she checked her diary. There were photographs too. It couldn’t have been him.
So the list of potential suspects ranged from Huang and a slew of criminals
the family had dealt with in the past to almost anyone within the organisation – perhaps a mole who was working for two sides. Unfortunately they didn’t have much success narrowing things down. Dash Chalmers was cited, but it didn’t seem likely given that their interactions with him happened after the London house explosion.
The children alighted from the vehicle and helped their driver with the bags. His name was Mike and their grandmother had explained that he and the other driver were agents who worked for Pharos in New York. A few minutes later the second car arrived carrying their French grandparents, Mim and Song.
Cordelia insisted on taking Hector and Marisol up in the lift first, along with Mim, who promised to make some tea. Song would organise the luggage with Mike and Steve, their other driver.
Kensy, Max and Curtis stood in front of the lift doors, waiting for it to come back down. Max fingered the page in his pocket. He was desperate for some time on his own to see if he could decipher any more of it, but for now he would have to be content studying the code and cipher book he’d brought along with him. There was also the uncomfortable feeling that he still hadn’t revealed any of this to his sister. They didn’t have secrets and yet, for some reason, he hadn’t wanted to tell her. Maybe he was punishing Kensy for what had happened with Theo Richardson – but that was weeks ago and surely he was more mature than that. He would tell her tonight and see if she could help. There was something about the note that gave him a heavy feeling in his stomach – maybe the idea that everyone around them could fall under suspicion so easily. The spy business wasn’t one that naturally engendered trust, that’s for sure.
‘Max,’ Kensy said sharply.
He looked up.
‘Are you coming?’ she asked from inside the lift.
‘Sorry, I was just thinking about something,’ the boy replied as he stepped into the elevator.
‘Careful of brain strain, little brother,’ the girl quipped as she reached out and pressed the button.
Max rolled his eyes. ‘I’m sure I can cope.’
‘Is Kensy older than you?’ Curtis turned to Max.
‘Thirty minutes,’ Kensy answered. ‘And he’s been trying to catch up to me ever since.’
‘As if.’ Max poked his tongue out at her.
Curtis grinned as the lift ascended at great speed before the door opened into a hallway. ‘Anyway, Max, you’re lucky if your head doesn’t hurt. Mine is spinning. I keep on expecting to wake up and find out I’ve been in the middle of a super-strange dream and it was all a figment of my overactive imagination.’
Kensy pinched the boy’s arm.
‘Ow!’ he cried out and rubbed the red mark.
‘You’re awake, Curtis. Trust me,’ she said, grinning.
‘Which way?’ Max asked as they stepped out of the lift into a long hall.
‘Anyone here?’ Kensy called.
‘We’re out the back,’ Mim replied.
The children followed the sound of her voice towards the rear of the building, which opened into a vast white kitchen where Mim was making tea. Off the adjacent open-plan family room was a large garden terrace, accessed via a wall of French doors.
‘Wow,’ Curtis said. ‘Nice place.’
Cordelia Spencer smiled. ‘Yes, it is rather lovely. Why don’t you all take a look around?’
‘Granny, before in the car, you said that the house wasn’t empty. Who lives here?’ Kensy asked.
‘It’s a safe house for agents,’ the woman replied. ‘The McMahons Point house is too.’
Curtis frowned. ‘I’ve seen a few people coming and going from there lately. I’ve got all their descriptions if you’d like to do any checks – they’re in another notebook I brought with me from home.’
Cordelia stifled a grin and shook her head. ‘Thank you, Curtis, but I’m quite confident I know who’s been there recently.’
‘Is anyone staying here now, apart from us?’ Kensy asked.
‘No, it’s only the family at the moment,’ Cordelia said. ‘Now I suggest you settle into your rooms and we’ll get some lunch sorted.’
‘Can we go for a walk after that?’ Kensy asked.
‘I’d love to, but I’m afraid I have a little bit of work to do. Perhaps Song can take you. I think Hector and Marisol and Mim are planning a quiet afternoon at home – it’s been a big day and it’s not over yet.’
‘Of course, ma’am,’ Song replied. ‘I would enjoy an outing with the children. Though perhaps I will get changed first. It is rather warm out there and I do not fancy playing tourist in my suit.’
‘Yes, I quite agree,’ Cordelia replied.
‘I thought you were supposed to be on holidays, Granny,’ Max said as he opened one of the cupboard doors, looking for a glass then walked to the fridge and poured himself some iced water and asked if anyone else would like the same.
‘Unfortunately, darling, the news doesn’t stop for anyone,’ Cordelia said.
‘And neither does being a spy, I imagine,’ Curtis added. ‘It’s not a job, it’s a way of life, and we have to be ready for whatever comes our way. But I was pretty much like that before, so don’t worry, Dame Spencer. I’m always on the lookout for anything unusual.’
‘Well, I suggest you clock off for a while, Curtis. You must remember you’re still a child and you need to enjoy being one.’ Cordelia smiled at the boy.
Max put his glass down on the bench. ‘Where are our rooms?’
Song told the children that they were on the fifth floor – Kensy on her own, and Max with Curtis. He also explained that there were two staircases – one just off the kitchen and the main one in the foyer.
Max spun around and his grandmother pointed towards the entrance hall while Mim pointed to the back stairs, which were through a door next to the pantry.
‘Race you!’ Kensy shouted and sped away. Curtis stepped one way then the other, not knowing who to follow.
‘Take the lift, Master Curtis. You will be there before both of them,’ Song said with a wink and Curtis took off at a sprint.
‘Where would you like to go first?’ Song asked as he led the children out onto the street. Before they’d even reached the footpath Curtis had his phone out and was snapping pictures.
‘What about the Empire State Building?’ Max asked. ‘It would be great to get a bird’s eye view of the city – see exactly where we are.’
The others agreed though Song suggested they head to the Top of the Rock instead – it was closer and the views were every bit as good. Perhaps they could visit the Empire State Building with their parents over the weekend.
‘I’m surprised you haven’t already memorised a map of the whole place, Max,’ Kensy said.
The boy raised his eyebrows. ‘Who said I haven’t?’
‘Can you really do that – remember an entire city?’ Curtis asked.
Max nodded.
‘Oh, have you been implanted with a microchip or something?’ Curtis said knowingly.
Kensy chuckled. ‘No. Max just has a different brain to the rest of us. Though I wonder if we could develop something like that – it would make life so much easier.’
‘I don’t understand how, but I seem to have a photographic memory, especially for maps,’ Max said.
‘He’s like our own personalised GPS, which comes in especially handy when you’re being pursued by bad guys and need to escape in a hurry.’ Kensy grinned.
‘Not that that happens very often, Master Curtis.’ Song made a face at the girl then mouthed, ‘Stop scaring the boy.’
‘Oh no, I’m not scared, Song. I find the whole idea absolutely thrilling,’ Curtis said.
‘Confucius says a lion chased me up a tree, and I greatly enjoyed the view from the top,’ Song said as the children pondered what he meant. Kensy thought he probably made that one up but the man objected strenuously when challenged, telling the children that it was absolutely attributable to the master.
‘And by the way you have excellent hearing, Master Curtis.’ So
ng was surprised the boy had picked up his words.
‘Mum and Dad have always said that it’s like I’ve got bionic ears or something – and it helps that I can lip read a bit too. I have a deaf cousin and she’s been teaching me for years,’ Curtis said, glancing around at the shops and street signs and people. ‘I only hope that I can live up to everyone’s expectations when we start training.’
The group trotted past a long glass shopfront. Kensy glanced across and was surprised to see Song eyeing his reflection. She could have sworn he even gave himself a smile. There was no denying that he did look rather stylish in his navy shorts, pink polo shirt, boat shoes and sunglasses. Kensy was glad he’d abandoned the tux. It always made people stare, but still, she couldn’t help giggling.
‘I’d go on a date with you, Song,’ the girl teased. ‘If I was fifty years older.’
‘What are you talking about, Miss Kensington?’ Song snapped. ‘What date?’
‘I was only making a joke,’ the girl said, rolling her eyes. ‘Touchy much?’ She ran ahead to join her brother and Curtis who were still talking about Pharos.
‘Are there many new recruits?’ Curtis asked.
‘Hardly ever, according to Granny,’ Max said. ‘You pretty much have to be born into the organisation, but they introduce new blood every now and then and you are allowed to marry outside of Pharos as long as your potential spouse is properly vetted. They must undergo agent training but can remain dormant.’
Curtis was feeling even more pleased with himself. But it went to show that life was strange. If he hadn’t been Kensy and Max’s next-door neighbour for that short time, he’d never have this opportunity. He suddenly realised that he wouldn’t be going back to Wentworth Grammar, even if he did head home to help his parents pack up the house. He’d be a bit like Van and Ellery and just drop off the radar, which actually suited him fine. Kensy and Max were, without a doubt, the coolest kids he’d ever met and the thought of being able to spend the rest of his school days with them was incredible. He was excited about moving to London too – history was definitely his thing and the city was full of it.
Kensy & Max: Freefall Page 8