Kensy & Max: Freefall

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Hector patted his wife’s hand and gave her a sympathetic smile.

  ‘But that will never ’appen now. He will be caught and brought to justice. Cordelia will see to it,’ he said with a firm nod.

  ‘I certainly will,’ Cordelia said, her lips pursed.

  Kensy picked up her bowl and swivelled around on her stool to face her grandmother. ‘Do you know where Dash is?’

  ‘We have some leads,’ Cordelia replied.

  Kensy thought she was being just as mysterious as Rupert and decided to try another angle.

  ‘What really happened to Abigail? I mean we know that she drowned, but Uncle Rupert must have found out a lot more to be sure that it was Dash who was responsible,’ Kensy said, munching on her muesli.

  ‘Your uncle received an anonymous tip-off last year that Abigail’s death wasn’t the accident we had all thought. He spent months investigating. Apparently there had been witnesses, a fellow named Danver Collings and an older woman, Etta Loveridge, who had both seen Abigail in the canoe from different angles on the lake. Tragically, Danver Collings was killed in a car accident a month after Abi’s death and poor Etta Loveridge didn’t last a week – having slipped and hit her head while out walking on a trail in the woods.’

  ‘Well, that can’t be a coincidence,’ Kensy said. ‘Maybe one of them could die an untimely death but not two – that makes no sense at all.’

  ‘Yes, I tend to agree. The coroner’s reports had strangely gone missing, but your uncle uncovered something else and was about to confront Dash the day you found Hector and Marisol,’ Cordelia said before being interrupted by the arrival of Max and Curtis who were laughing at something on their way into the room.

  Kensy was desperate to know more, but it was clear that their conversation was over for now.

  ‘Good morning, boys,’ Cordelia said with a smile. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Like the dead,’ Curtis said. ‘Not that I know what it’s like to be dead – and I don’t plan to anytime soon, but I really didn’t hear a thing.’

  ‘I cannot believe you slept through the thunderstorm, Master Curtis,’ Song said. ‘It was so fierce and frightening.’

  ‘Really?’ Max looked at the man and grinned. ‘You’re scared of storms?’

  ‘Of course not. Do not be ridiculous.’ Song made a pffing noise and batted his hand.

  Cordelia Spencer looked across at the man. ‘Oh, Song, astraphobia is nothing to be ashamed of. Although you did almost scare me half to death when I found you hiding in the laundry hamper at Alexandria last time.’

  The children giggled as Song’s face turned an ever-darkening shade of red.

  ‘Now, what shall we do today? Does anyone have a suggestion?’ Cordelia asked.

  Max looked at his grandmother in surprise. ‘You don’t have to work, Granny?’

  The woman shook her head. ‘I did bring us all here for a holiday so I should be able to take a little bit of time off, don’t you think?’

  Max beamed then did something his grandmother was not expecting at all. He walked over and wrapped his arms around Cordelia’s shoulders.

  ‘You deserve a holiday, Granny. You work harder than anyone I know, even Mum and Dad and they work a lot too,’ the boy said.

  Cordelia squeezed the boy back, then brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. She spotted Marisol’s eyes glistening too. It had been a long time between hugs and the twins seemed to do it quite spontaneously, which was lovely.

  ‘So what are we going to do today then?’ Cordelia asked.

  ‘The High Line?’ Max said.

  ‘What about the Met?’ Curtis added.

  ‘Roosevelt Island Tram?’ Kensy said.

  Cordelia suggested they go for a drive to see where they ended up, but Kensy wrinkled her nose.

  ‘And what do you find objectionable about that idea?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, Granny. I like riding in the airconditioned comfort of your limousine, but wouldn’t it be more fun to see the real New York and take the subway?’ Kensy said.

  Song looked up sharply from where he was thumbing through some recipes. ‘Excuse me, who are you and what did you do with the real Kensington Grey who yesterday afternoon was moaning and begging me to get her a taxi because walking was far too strenuous?’

  ‘I was tired, but there was a cool change last night after the storm and it’s not going to be as hot today. I just think we’ll see more,’ Kensy said. ‘Get a proper feel for things.’

  Cordelia nodded. ‘I couldn’t agree more, but what about Hector and Marisol? I don’t want to exhaust them.’

  ‘Actually, my dears,’ Hector said. ‘Mim has arranged a backstage tour of the Museum of Natural History to see some special archives that could help with our work.’

  ‘No offence, but that sounds a bit boring,’ Kensy said. ‘I mean, if you were looking at robotics, I might want to come, but plants and diseases – they’re not really my thing.’

  ‘Kensy!’ Max chided, but she simply poked her tongue out at him.

  ‘Well, I’m only telling the truth and in our business we don’t always get to do that,’ Kensy quipped.

  ‘Too true. It’s settled then. Let’s go exploring. Song, you will join us?’ Cordelia asked, though it wasn’t so much an invitation as a directive.

  ‘Of course, ma’am,’ he nodded. He’d been hoping to have the day at home, making ice-cream and cooking something spectacular for dinner. Perhaps he’d order in pizza – that was a New York experience.

  ‘Right, we’ll leave in half an hour,’ Cordelia said, pushing back her chair and standing up. She carried her teacup and saucer to the kitchen bench despite Song telling her that he would do it.

  ‘I’ll bring a map,’ Kensy said then grabbed her brother’s sleeve.

  ‘Very funny.’ Max rolled his eyes.

  Curtis grinned. He’d take his backpack – after all, you never knew what sort of things you might need on an urban exploration.

  ‘That was the best pizza I’ve ever tasted!’ Curtis exclaimed, having finished his third slice.

  ‘I can only agree. This pepperoni is excellent,’ Cordelia said with a grin. Max touched his bottom lip and made googly eyes at his grandmother who hastily wiped away a blob of tomato sauce. ‘Thank you, dear. Nothing worse than walking around with food on your face.’

  The children had started their day at the 63rd Street Lexington Avenue subway station, where they rode the train downtown to the Brooklyn Bridge City Hall stop. From there they walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, stopping to take photographs of Lower Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty. It was quite a way though, and by the time the group reached the other side everyone was ready for lunch. Song voted they try the renowned Luke’s Lobster restaurant, but none of the children were keen. Dame Spencer suggested Grimaldi’s, one of the most famous pizza parlours in the city, which was met with great enthusiasm by all, except Song as it messed up his plans for dinner.

  ‘Shall we take a look at the park under the bridge?’ Cordelia asked when everyone had finished their lunch. ‘If my memory serves me correctly, last time I was here, there was a fantastic ice-creamery around the corner.’

  ‘And a beautiful carousel too,’ the waiter interjected.

  ‘That sounds like fun,’ the woman said, getting directions from the fellow.

  ‘Two ice-creams in two days,’ Curtis said. ‘Now it feels like we’re on holidays.’

  ‘That’s because we are,’ Kensy replied, although she couldn’t help thinking that there was so much else going on. The mystery of who was trying to do away with the family and whether that really was Tinsley that she and Max had spotted yesterday. Then there was her brother randomly chasing petty criminals on the street. Being a spy was a way of life, not a nine-to-five career and to think they were still only trainees.

  The family walked to the carousel via the ice-cream shop where Song ordered a cardamom black pepper cone and Cordelia went for goat’s cheese with a b
eet swirl. The children screwed up their faces at both of those, selecting choc fudge, vanilla bean and cookies and cream instead.

  The antique carousel was housed inside a modern glass pavilion on the water’s edge with sides that concertinaed, opening the whole thing to the air. It was quite the juxtaposition of old and new, and Max couldn’t help thinking it was a bit like a life-sized automaton.

  ‘Shall we?’ Cordelia asked.

  ‘Perhaps I will sit this one out, ma’am,’ Song said, a sheepish look on his face.

  Cordelia frowned then suddenly her eyebrows jumped up. ‘Oh yes, of course. How could we ever forget the notorious night of the flying chairs?’

  ‘What happened?’ Kensy asked.

  Song shook his head. ‘I would prefer not to say. It is a bad memory.’

  ‘Come on, Song. We love a good story,’ Kensy was insistent. ‘Did you throw up?’

  ‘Kensington, I don’t think Song wants to discuss it,’ Cordelia said with a glint in her eye. ‘But I’ll tell you, because even though it was horrid, it was also the funniest thing I’d seen in years.’

  Kensy, Max and Curtis looked at her expectantly.

  ‘I cannot bear to listen,’ Song said, covering his ears.

  ‘Poor Song. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sight of you losing a raspberry swirl soft serve all over that ghastly man, Hector Woodgate.’

  ‘Oh, ma’am, please. It was terrible,’ Song cringed.

  ‘After what he did, forcing up the price of that apartment in the Barbizon building that I was negotiating on, he deserved it,’ Cordelia giggled. Song cradled his face in his hand and wandered over to sit on a park bench in the shade.

  ‘Well, come on then, let’s have a spin,’ Cordelia said. She paid the money and told the children they should go and find a horse that truly spoke to them – they’d get on better that way. Max grinned when he spotted his grandmother nimbly alighting a pretty palomino pony up ahead. The carousel was beginning to fill with parents and children of all ages – from toddlers to teens – and couples old and young as well.

  Kensy selected a dark brown steed towards the middle while Max leapt onto a grey a couple of rows across and Curtis found a black horse that he took an instant shine to.

  The old wurlitzer organ moaned and groaned as the mechanism picked up speed and within a minute the music was blaring with a thumping bass drum and cymbal clashes while the carousel began to spin.

  Max’s pony rose up as Kensy’s went down.

  Curtis was grinning and pretending to be a trick rider, standing up on the frame that acted as stirrups. Kensy decided to show off too, jumping onto her horse’s back and performing an arabesque.

  The children were laughing while up ahead their grandmother had closed her eyes and lulled herself into an almost trance-like state, rising and falling with the rhythm of the horse beneath her.

  Max spun around to face Curtis behind him and was distracted by a small girl who was giggling, her blonde plaits flying. He gave her a wave, but then he spotted someone else. The man looked just like a regular guy – maybe a dad, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with black trainers, but there was something odd about the way he ran from the cover of the trees and jumped onto the carousel, weaving his way through the horses and sleighs. He was looking for someone and Max wasn’t taking any chances.

  ‘Kensy!’ he shouted above the din of the organ, but she was too busy practising her new found riding skills, much to the delight of three little boys who were sitting in one of the sleighs with their mother.

  As the man drew closer, Max jumped down from his pony and wove his way over to his sister, pulling on the leg of her cargo pants.

  She startled and almost fell. ‘What?’

  ‘We need to go,’ the boy shouted.

  Further around Curtis had sat back down on his horse. He craned his neck to see Max and was surprised when the grey pony popped up without its rider.

  Kensy jumped down onto the platform and looked over her brother’s shoulder. The man was heading straight for them. By now Curtis had spotted him too.

  Max grabbed his sister’s hand and the pair began to run. The man picked up his pace, dodging in and out of the horses and running right past Cordelia, who still had her eyes closed. It was clear the twins were his target. Apparently, he wasn’t interested in Curtis, which was undoubtedly a good thing.

  Max turned to see the man gaining. He was right behind them and Curtis was on his tail.

  ‘Max! Look out!’ Curtis yelled as the fellow reached into the back pocket of his jeans. He couldn’t see what he was about to pull out.

  The boy held his breath, but Max leapt up onto an empty horse and used the pole to spin around, landing a kick on the unsuspecting fellow’s chin. He stumbled and grabbed hold of another pony, much to the horror of a mother and her daughter who had been snapping some photographs and laughing.

  ‘We need to get Granny and find Song,’ Kensy called. The woman was currently on the opposite side of the carousel thoroughly enjoying her ride and completely oblivious to the drama.

  The man wasn’t about to give up. He lunged at the twins, clutching Max around the middle.

  ‘Let go of me!’ the boy yelled over the organ din. The fellow lifted him off the ground, but Max kicked out and connected hard with his shin.

  Curtis saw an opportunity. He ran at them from behind, and shoved the fellow in the back. Startled, he released Max, who dove out of the way. The attacker fell forward and caught himself on an empty pony. But this time Kensy was ready too. She pulled a tiny box from her pocket and took Ferdinand the bee from his case, stabbing the creature’s abdomen against the man’s bare neck.

  He flinched but didn’t call out.

  ‘Hurry!’ Kensy said as almost immediately the man’s eyes rolled back. As the horse bobbed down low the boys pushed him onto the saddle, while Kensy wrapped his arms around the silver pole. Curtis and Max leaned against him from either side to keep him upright as he slumped forward.

  ‘Here, use this!’ Curtis threw a roll of duct tape at Kensy. He’d already unpicked the end.

  ‘Where on earth did you get . . .?’ Kensy began then realised that Curtis had brought along his trusty backpack and who knew what treasures it contained.

  She wound the tape around the man’s hands, securing him to the pole.

  ‘How long will he be out for?’ Max asked.

  Kensy shrugged. She was trialling a new sleeping potion that her grandfather had given her and had no idea of its time limit. The carousel was slowing down.

  ‘Is there anything in his pockets?’ Curtis asked.

  Max frisked him and found a licence, but that was it. If he did have a weapon, it was gone.

  Kensy noticed a woman staring at them and so she did the first thing that came into her head. ‘Oh, Dad, you are so hilarious! Quick, guys, let’s get a picture before he wakes up. Honestly our father could fall asleep anywhere – even on a carousel with all this noise. Mum will love it,’ she said loudly, covering his hands with hers. ‘Dad, you are so funny!’ She laughed raucously and the others did too – pretending that it was just a regular family outing, though perhaps a little overacted as the woman quickly ushered her children off the ride, sneaking sideways glances at the strange scene.

  Curtis pulled out his phone and snapped a few selfies, which would also come in handy when trying to identify the man.

  ‘Where’s Song?’ Max frowned as the carousel slowly rotated past where he had been sitting under the trees. ‘Seriously, he’s never around when you need him.’ The thought was not lost on Kensy either.

  The ride came to a stop, but the children stayed put, shielding their prisoner from the curious glances of other passengers who were spilling out onto the concourse.

  Unfortunately the sleeping potion was beginning to wear off and it seemed to have a side effect that neither Kensy nor her grandfather had been aware of. Without uttering a word the man’s muscles flexed and he tore his hands from the pole.


  ‘Look out!’ Kensy yelled as he took aim at Max.

  But he missed his mark. The children sped off into the crowd, searching frantically for their grandmother.

  ‘Granny!’ Kensy yelled.

  But she was nowhere to be seen. Kensy ran back to the carousel, but she wasn’t there either.

  ‘Where’s the guy?’ Curtis yelled, realising that he was gone too.

  ‘There!’ Max shouted as the man vanished among a large group of tourists who were being led by a small Chinese woman holding a red flag in the air. They were walking away towards the car park.

  The children struggled to see if they could spot him again, but it was Kensy who saw someone else.

  She gasped. ‘Is that Dash?’ But as soon as she’d said the words, he was gone.

  Max fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his phone, noticing he’d missed a call from Cordelia. He quickly dialled her number, but it went straight to voicemail.

  ‘You don’t think the guy on the carousel was a distraction?’ Kensy said. ‘And Dash is here to get Granny? You know what he was prepared to do with Grandmère and Grandpère – he’ll kill her for sure.’

  ‘Why would he do that? It makes no sense,’ Max said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kensy blurted. ‘He’s a very bad man.’

  Curtis felt sick to the pit of his stomach. ‘Maybe Dame Spencer got called away for work or something.’

  ‘No. She wouldn’t just leave us,’ Max said, shaking his head. He could feel the panic rising. But that was no way for a spy to behave even if he was still a trainee. He took a few deep breaths to calm his pounding heart.

  ‘Children,’ Song called as he hurried towards them.

  ‘Where’s Granny?’ Kensy demanded. ‘And where have you been?’

  After their conversation last night the twins were even more wary of Song than ever.

  The man looked guilty. ‘I had to make a call and your grandmother has been summoned away on urgent business, but she will meet us at home. She said that we should continue our sightseeing.’