Cadel nodded.
"Good." Prosper stooped, so that his mouth was almost level with Cadel's ear. "Incidentally, you can look as distressed as you like—don't worry about that. You're supposed to look distressed when your best friend's being rushed to the hospital."
"You didn't hurt Saul, did you?" Cadel couldn't restrain himself. The question erupted out of him, despite all his best efforts.
Sure enough, Prosper didn't like it. He narrowed his anthracite eyes. After a long pause, he said, "What if I did?"
Cadel bit his lip. Though he remained silent, the answer was written all over his face.
"As a matter of fact, I didn't need to hurt him," Prosper revealed. "Alias always gives a flawless performance, and we were both of us hiding behind armfuls of boxes. Your friend didn't suspect a thing—he opened the cupboard door for us. I just had to jump him from behind with my chloroform." Prosper's sneer exposed one razor-sharp canine tooth. "What a fool."
Cadel said nothing. To argue would have been risky—and in any case, he was concerned about what was happening in Sonja's bedroom. A loud clunk worried him so much that he started forward. But he didn't get very far. Prosper caught and held him before he'd advanced more than a few steps.
"Easy now," said Prosper.
"I just want to go in!"
"You don't have to. They're coming out." Prosper's embrace was like a harness or a straitjacket, encircling Cadel from behind. "See? Here they come."
Cadel gasped. Alias had emerged from the bedroom with Sonja, who was dangling from his arms like a wet towel. Every muscle in her body was limp. Her head lolled, and her eyes were closed.
She was unconscious.
"What have you done?!" Cadel cried.
"Shh!" Prosper braced himself as Cadel tried to break free. "A touch of chloroform. That's all."
Cadel caught his breath. "Chloroform?" He was appalled.
"It makes her easier to manage," Prosper explained. "She'll be awake in a couple of minutes. So calm down and be good."
"I couldn't spare the time to put on her street clothes," said Alias. But Prosper appeared to take this unfortunate development in his stride.
"That's okay," he said. "Pajamas will be more realistic. Are you all set?"
Alias gave a nod.
"Cadel? Are you going to behave?" Prosper muttered. "It wouldn't be very nice for anyone if we ended up besieged in this place, would it?"
Cadel shook his head. He couldn't speak.
"Right, then. Let's go." Prosper shifted his grasp, so that he once more had his arm draped around Cadel's shoulders. When they emerged through the front door together, it must have seemed—from a distance—that he was trying to comfort the anxious Cadel, who kept glancing back at Sonja in a very convincing way.
Their hurried exit was also convincing. (As Prosper said, during their sprint toward Saul's car, "You don't muck around in a medical emergency.") Within seconds Sonja had been loaded into the backseat and Cadel had followed her. Alias then started the engine. Prosper joined Cadel in the rear of the car.
Zac's van was parked nearby, but Cadel didn't get a chance to comment on this until they were rolling down the driveway.
"You took Zac's van," he said.
"It's very distinctive," was Prosper's reply.
"How did you take it?" Cadel was dazed. He couldn't imagine the hijack scenario. "What did you do to Zac? And to Cliff?"
Prosper sighed. He was sitting directly behind Alias, with Sonja's head pillowed in his lap. Her feet lay across Cadel's knees.
"You don't give me much credit, do you?" Prosper's eyes were riveted to the gates ahead, which were illumined by the headlights of Saul's vehicle. "I didn't do anything to anyone. I didn't have to. I simply called Trader and made a request." He lowered his voice suddenly, addressing Alias. "There they are. Our polizei friends. Do you see them?"
"I see 'em," Alias confirmed. Glancing up, Cadel spotted an unmarked police car under a streetlight. Both car and streetlight were visible through the wrought-iron framework of the gates, which were slowly starting to swing open. But he didn't spare the police more than a moment's thought, being far more interested in Sonja's breathing. It was harsh and labored. He didn't like the sound of it.
Then her eyelids fluttered.
"She's waking up!" he exclaimed. "Sonja! Can you hear me?"
"Don't acknowledge them," Prosper ordered. He was speaking to Alias. "They're supposed to be incognito. And we're supposed to be in a rush." As Saul's car swept past the surveillance team, gathering speed, Cadel saw Prosper checking a side mirror. "They're not moving," Prosper said. "They haven't moved. No—their lights are still off."
"So far, so good," Alias remarked.
"Step on it until we turn the next corner. Then make sure you keep to the speed limit." Prosper's gaze dropped from the mirror to Sonja's head, which had moved slightly. One of her hands was beginning to twitch. "After all," he observed, "we don't want to make ourselves conspicuous, do we?"
"What if she starts throwing up?" Cadel demanded. He could remember vomiting after his own first encounter with chloroform. "Is there a plastic bag in here, or an old towel?"
"My dear boy, how would I know? It's not my car," said Prosper. He turned toward Cadel, smiling one of his slow, secretive smiles. His eyes glittered in the dimness. "You'd know better than I would. I gather you're quite familiar with this vehicle, after all your little outings."
Cadel stiffened. He dragged his attention away from Sonja and fastened it on the shadowy face beside him—which, though familiar in every curve and hollow, looked slightly odd without spectacles. The straggling wig gave it an uncharacteristically rakish air.
"Has Trader been spying for you?" asked Cadel, in a very small voice.
"Oh no. It's Dot who's been spying for me." Seeing Cadel's mouth fall open, Prosper chuckled. "Didn't you work that out? My goodness, dear boy—we do have a lot to catch up on."
THIRTY-SIX
There was something surreal about that drive. At times Cadel wondered if he had woken up at all. Having been abruptly wrenched from his warm bed, he now found himself gliding along in a dimly lit car occupied by Alias (disguised as Saul Greeniaus) and Prosper (disguised as Zac Stillman).
It was hardly surprising that the whole experience had a dreamlike quality.
"Yes, Dot's the one I hired to keep an eye on things at Clearview House," Prosper remarked, surveying Sonja's restless form with obvious misgivings. "Apparently Dot has a hard time holding down a normal job, because she finds it so hard to relate to people. And she was in dire need of money after her share portfolio went belly up. Never mortgage anything to buy stock, Cadel—it's a mug's game." He jerked his head back, as Sonja's arm flicked toward it in a sudden muscular spasm. "Dear me," he said. "Is this normal? Or is something wrong?"
"She's always like this." Cadel leaned over and caught Sonja's wayward hand. Her eyelids were beginning to flutter. "Can you hear me, Sonja? Are you feeling sick?"
At that instant she kicked out, catching him in the stomach. It wasn't a forceful blow, so it didn't hurt much. Nevertheless, Prosper was displeased.
"Get up front," he said to Cadel.
"Oh, but—"
"Get up front." Though Prosper spoke in a measured and deliberate fashion, his tone made Cadel's palms sweat. "She'll break your nose if you stay there."
"I'll hold her down! She'll be all right, see? I've got a firm grip now." Cadel wanted to be close to Sonja when she woke. He knew how frightened she would be even if he was nearby. And if he wasn't..."She might hurt herself, otherwise. It gets worse when she panics."
"My dear boy, I'm not worried about her. I'm worried about you." Prosper aimed his gun at Sonja's head. "Now, get up front, please—I won't ask you again."
Cadel clenched his teeth. Prosper's close proximity filled him with a strange, almost illogical fear, which paralyzed his thought processes and had its roots somewhere deep in his subconscious. Nevertheless, at the sight of that gun b
arrel resting against Sonja's skull, his fear was submerged in a tide of hot anger.
All at once, his mind cleared.
"You'd better be worried about her," he snapped, "because she's the only thing keeping me in line. That's why you brought her along, isn't it? So I wouldn't try to escape?" Receiving no response, Cadel peered into the semi-darkness. "You can't seriously think I want to be here? With you?" he spat. "If you do, you must be delusional."
The flicker of a streetlight briefly illuminated Prosper's crooked smile. "I did think it likely that you might still be nursing that unreasonable grudge of yours," he admitted, seizing one of Sonja's flailing arms. Then, in a sharper voice, he said, "It's nice to see that your unfortunate taste for the company of policemen hasn't destroyed your ability to think in a strategic manner."
Cadel's heart sank. He knew that Prosper was referring to Saul Greeniaus. There could be no doubt whatsoever that Prosper knew all about Saul, and about Saul's dealings with Cadel.
It was grim news. For Saul, more than anyone.
"What's that to you?" Cadel cried. His dismay and impotent fury turned the question into a broken wail. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"Because you're my son."
"Oh, really?" Cadel couldn't contain his scorn. "Why wouldn't you admit it, then?"
"And have you spirited away by my abominable cousin Bernard? To a Scottish pig farm?" Prosper shook his head. "Believe me, Cadel, there are worse fates than a spell at the Donkins' house. I was only thinking of you." Then Sonja gave a high-pitched squeal, and he winced. "For god's sake, aren't we there yet?"
"Not far now," said Alias, as Cadel reached across to stroke Sonja's face. But her head wouldn't keep still.
"Sonja, it's me. Cadel. I'm right here. You don't have to worry."
"Watch that foot," warned Prosper.
"Can you hear me? Sonja? You have to calm down. You have to stop thrashing about, or you'll hurt yourself."
"Yes indeed," Prosper drawled. "We wouldn't want this gun to go off accidentally."
Cadel gasped. "Shut up!" he exclaimed. If his hands hadn't been fastened to Sonja's uncontrolled limbs, he probably would have struck Prosper. "Don't you dare threaten her!"
"I wasn't threatening anyone," Prosper replied coolly.
"She's not deaf, you know! She's not stupid! But you didn't bring the DynaVox—she can't talk without her DynaVox!"
"Which is probably just as well," Prosper observed. "Since I can't imagine she has anything of interest to say."
There was so much careless contempt in this remark that it left Cadel momentarily speechless. Though shaken, however, he wasn't surprised. Clearly, Sonja hadn't been forgiven for making friends with him. It was Sonja, after all, who had changed his understanding of the world. It was Sonja who had set him on the straight and narrow.
He realized that if he did anything reckless, he would put Sonja at risk. Because Prosper would not hesitate to kill her. He had killed Cadel's mother, after all. So why not Sonja?
Cadel took a deep, steadying breath.
"I hate you," he said evenly. And once again, Prosper smiled.
"Yes, I know," he rejoined. "You mentioned that at our last meeting. Just before I heard you begging the police not to shoot me." Without waiting for a reply, he leaned forward to address Alias. "Is this it? We should be close now."
"We are," said Alias. "It's just around the corner."
"What is?" Cadel demanded, and Prosper said, "We'll be making a switch. You know the procedure." Then he wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"
Cadel flushed. "It's Sonja," he revealed. "She can't always—I mean, she has to wear a diaper."
Over in the driver's seat, Alias almost choked on a cough. Prosper's raised eyebrow was visible for an instant in the glow of someone's passing headlights.
"Good god," he said. "Well, there's no accounting for tastes, I suppose."
Then they swerved into a side street.
Cadel was so preoccupied with Sonja that he didn't pay much attention to his immediate surroundings. He was conscious of a narrow lane lined with brick walls and wooden fences. He noticed the fluid shape of a cat darting behind a Dumpster. But by the time Saul's car had rolled into a poky concrete garage, Cadel's attention was focused exclusively on Sonja's face. So he didn't pick up many clues as to the building's exact location.
It was somewhere in Sydney's western suburbs. That was all he knew.
"Out," said Prosper, once Alias had cut the engine. As Cadel opened his mouth to protest, Prosper forestalled him. "Just do it, will you? And I'll take Sonja."
"But—"
"I won't hurt her, Cadel, if that's what you're worried about." Adjusting his grip on Sonja's arching torso, Prosper added, "She's far more likely to hurt me, at this rate."
"Did I hear somebody mention diapers?" asked Alias, who had already climbed out of the car. "We don't have any of them, you know."
"We'll improvise." Prosper pushed open the door next to him. "Give me a hand here, will you? Cadel, let go of her feet."
With an overhead light now illuminating the car's interior, Cadel had a clear view of Sonja's face. Her wide, staring eyes were straining toward him. Her mouth was working furiously. She began to make piping noises.
"It's all right," he pleaded. "No one's going to hurt you. Ow!" He had relaxed his grip on her slightly and a muscular contraction had driven her knee up into his jaw.
Seeing this, Prosper scowled.
"Get out of the car!" he snapped, before turning to Sonja. "And if you do that again, my dear, I'll cheerfully repay the compliment."
"She can't help it!" Cadel could hardly speak; he was nursing his throbbing chin. "Why don't you listen? If you scare her, she'll only get worse!"
Prosper studied him for a moment, apparently pondering this advice. At last the impenetrable black gaze shifted from Cadel's face to Sonja's, and Prosper began to address her in the tranquil, pleasant tones with which he had so often beguiled his teenaged patients—not to mention the staff and students of the Axis Institute.
"Sonja, let me introduce myself," he said. "I'm Prosper English. You must have heard about me. I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, but I've brought you here to make sure that Cadel doesn't escape, since he wouldn't dream of running away and leaving you." A quizzical smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Now, I'm reliably informed that you're an intelligent girl. So I'm sure you've already deduced that if I were to kill you, it would be defeating the purpose of your abduction. That's why there's really no need for you to panic. All I ask is that you cheer up and calm down. At the moment, you're just worrying Cadel, and we neither of us want to do that, I'm sure."
Something about the slow, silky rhythm of his delivery was having an effect on Sonja. Though still nodding and trembling, she seemed slightly more tranquil. Her brown eyes searched his face, while her tongue butted at the back of her crooked teeth.
Prosper caught her gaze and held it.
"You're very fond of Cadel, aren't you, my dear?" he said, and continued as if he had received an answer. "Well, so am I. That's why he'll be perfectly safe with me. It's also why you'll be perfectly safe with me, as long as he's around. Because I don't want to upset him. And if you get hurt, it's going to upset him." A soft chuckle. "God knows, I've upset him enough already. I don't want to make things worse."
Sonja honked then, and he looked to Cadel for a translation. But none was forthcoming.
"I don't know what she said," Cadel confessed miserably. "I can't tell without the DynaVox."
"Well ... we'll sort that out later," Prosper decided. "Right now, we all have to change our clothes. Cadel can do that first, and then he can help you with your outfit, Sonja. After he's fixed his hair and put on his makeup." Even to Cadel's jaundiced eye, Prosper's sympathetic expression was very persuasive. "You can cope with a short absence, can't you? He'll only be in the next room."
Another honk.
"Blink twice if you agree. Can you do
that?" When Sonja blinked twice, Prosper smiled again. "Good. Excellent. I felt sure we'd come to an understanding. Now, see if you can put an arm around my neck, and I promise I won't drop you."
Cadel wanted to warn Sonja that such a promise was worthless—that Prosper simply couldn't be trusted. But a warning of that kind would only serve to frighten her. And if she became frightened, she would start to thrash about.
So Cadel held his tongue. He followed Alias through a door at the rear of the garage into a small kitchen. Here the counters were strewn with open chip bags and used coffee cups. In the living room beyond, dirty dishes shared the pale pink carpet with a sleeping bag, a scattering of newspapers, and a portable television.
It was obvious that someone had been camping in this unfurnished house, which looked like a cheap rental accommodation. Everything in it was grubby and battered, from the tired old light fixtures to the damaged venetian blinds. After giving the place a quick glance, Cadel decided that nothing about it alarmed him.
Then he checked over his shoulder and was relieved to see Prosper edging through the kitchen door, with Sonja writhing away in his arms.
"Come on," said Alias. "Your stuff's over here." He conducted Cadel into the bathroom, which was pink like the carpet (where it wasn't black with mold). There was no shower curtain. The bone-dry bath was full of clothes.
When Cadel saw all the cosmetics and prosthetics laid out on the fake-marble vanity, he recognized many of them from his days at the Axis Institute. The mustache kit, for example. The collection of fake fingernails.
Cadel had always liked Alias. While most of the institute staff had behaved in a way that was both disturbed and disturbing, Alias had been consistently cheerful, supportive, and matter-of-fact. For all his clandestine talents, he'd never quite fitted in. He was simply too pleasant.
"Why are you doing this?" asked Cadel, studying the face that was almost—but not quite—the face of Saul Greeniaus. "Why are you helping Prosper English?"
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