November Read online

  ‘Scram bag?’ I asked, repeating her phrase.

  She nodded. ‘His emergency suitcase. Already packed. Ready to scram. So he can grab it and get out of the country at a moment’s notice. Everything’s there—passport, travel documents, clothes, toothbrush, cologne … and cigar boxes.’

  ‘Cigar boxes?’ I asked. ‘I don’t get it. Cigars aren’t worth that much, are they?’

  I turned to Boges, but he looked as confused as me.

  ‘It’s not the cigars that I’m interested in,’ said Winter, ‘it’s what else is inside the cigar boxes!’

  ‘Money?’

  ‘Cold, hard cash,’ said Winter, rubbing her fingers together in front of our faces.

  I recalled how Sligo had handed Rathbone a cigar case last month, back at the banquet. Was he paying him off for something?

  ‘Have you actually seen this cold, hard cash?’ I asked Winter.

  The look on her face instantly told me she hadn’t.

  ‘Look, I know it’s in there. I’ve seen him hand the cases over to people in the past, and I know Sligo’s passing around more than just cigars. I caught a glimpse inside the scram bag yesterday and he has a row of these boxes stacked along one side of the suitcase. He doesn’t even like smoking cigars! Trust me, they’re lined with money.’

  ‘Dangerous,’ I warned. ‘You said he’s been acting funny—more paranoid. What were you doing over there, snooping in his room?’

  ‘I wanted to confirm my theory on the money in the cases, but I ran out of time. I took lunch over to him, then snuck into his room while he was taking a call. I saw the cigar boxes in the bag, but I freaked out thinking he was about to walk in on me, so I didn’t get any further than that.’

  ‘So it’s just a theory?’ Boges asked.

  ‘I’ll say it again for you. I know the boxes have money in them. I don’t have to see it to know it’s in there.’ Winter shrugged. ‘I just have to go over there and take it. Sligo owes me so much,’ she said. ‘The guy stole my inheritance. If we help ourselves to his stash, I would just be getting back a very small fraction of what he’s taken from me. As soon as I’ve returned to his yard and scoped out the wreck of my mum and dad’s car, and as soon as we’ve solved the mystery of the DMO, my relationship with him will be over. I’ll be taking my evidence to the police, and then he’ll be dead to me. I’ll finally be free to move on with the rest of my life.’

  ‘And I’ll be right there beside you, when you go to the police,’ I said. ‘That’s a promise.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Boges.

  She flashed us a grateful smile. I loved the confident way Winter spoke, as if another trip to the car yard was just one minor obstacle standing in the way of the truth about her family. I also loved the way she spoke about the DMO, as if we were about to crack it, any day now.

  I just hoped Sligo wouldn’t find out prematurely that his ward was spying on him, trying to get evidence on him. If Winter took money from him and he found out, she’d be in real trouble. Underground oil tank trouble.

  ‘If you’re going to help yourself to his cash,’ I said, ‘you’ll need to cover yourself. Make it look like a professional break-in. Put him off the scent with a false trail.’

  I suddenly thought of something. ‘Hey, you have something belonging to Oriana that you could plant. That piece of the leopard-print scarf she used to half-throttle me. It’s still at your place, isn’t it? You could use that to complicate things.’

  Winter’s face brightened. ‘Love it,’ she said. ‘Yep, I’ll use that, Cal. And leave it at the crime scene. Maybe I could drop a few of those little silver things she’s always eating. The cachous.’

  ‘Sweet,’ said Boges. ‘They won’t be such tight allies after that!’

  ‘I will need your help, though,’ she said, looking from Boges to me, ‘to make sure of a clean getaway. Just someone to keep an eye on his place, in case something goes wrong.’

  ‘We’ll be there,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll drop by for a swim,’ said Winter, ‘and invite myself to dinner. I can do that any time. He loves an audience when he’s talking about himself. He thinks the rubbish he’s telling me—about sponsoring the ballet, about the art he’s acquired, about the huge party he wants to host next month—impresses me. I guess I can handle that. I won’t have to do it for much longer. In fact,’ she said, narrowing her eyes, ‘it’ll be kinda fun to sit there, nodding and smiling, while all the time I have his emergency stash hidden away in my beach bag!’

  ‘Winter,’ said Boges, ‘you are one fearless chick.’

  She winked at him. There was no mistaking the admiration in Boges’s voice.

  My mobile beeped. It was a text message from Sharkey.

  let me know if u want me to go ahead with the passport. as soon as you give me the nod, my friend can get on with it. he’ll need the $ and a photo.

  ‘I’ll call him back and see if he’s keen to help us watch over Sligo’s, while you,’ I said, turning to Winter, ‘sneak into his scram bag and collect.’

  51 days to go …

  It was the eleventh of November—the date that had mysteriously appeared across my blog, and the date of Ryan Spencer’s birthday. I was huddled in my sleeping-bag, on the floor of the treehouse, woken up by the sound of birds squawking in a nearby tree.

  I was pretty sure the date on my blog was from someone trying to alert me to Ryan’s existence, but now that the day had come I felt uneasy. What if it was a warning about something completely unrelated to him?

  Talking to Ryan would have been a good idea, but I didn’t know how to get in touch with him unless I went to his house. I couldn’t spring that on him again. Not only that, but I didn’t want to risk a trip out. Was I in danger?

  I hated the unknown.

  I decided it was safest to stay put. I pulled the sleeping-bag up over my ears and tried to go back to sleep.

  49 days to go …

  Boges and I waited in the back lane behind Sligo’s place. Sharkey had dropped us off on the street, but he couldn’t stick around—he reluctantly admitted to us that he had a ‘hot date’ to go to!

  Winter had disappeared inside the house sometime earlier, wearing a purple sarong over her black bikini, and carrying a towel and the beach bag that concealed the crucial piece of Oriana’s leopard-print scarf. Sligo was out right now, so her plan was to get into his room while the place was empty, steal the money from the cigar boxes, stash it into her bag, then dive into the pool just in time for his return home. She’d pretend she’d been splashing around in there all afternoon.

  I thought of the last time we’d been at Sligo’s, hiding in the pool shed, waiting for Winter’s hidden camera to come online, and sweating it out when Bruno almost found us in there.

  ‘I hope she’s going to be OK,’ I said. ‘Sligo will go nuts when he realises his money’s missing. Especially when he thinks Oriana’s the thief.’

  ‘Maybe he won’t even notice for a while,’ said Boges. ‘Unless he checks the bag every day, it could be weeks before he realises it’s been taken.’

  It was still hot even though the sun was setting. I took a sip of water out of a drink bottle Boges had brought along.

  ‘Quick,’ said Boges, ‘look who’s coming! You’d better call her.’

  The black Subaru, driven by Zombie Two, with Sligo sitting beside him like a toad in a cravat, was cruising along the street. I grabbed my mobile and hit Winter’s number.

  ‘They’re here,’ I hissed, as soon as she picked up. ‘Pulling up outside now.’

  ‘He’s locked it,’ she said, despairing. ‘I can’t find the key to the suitcase. I don’t know where he’s put it!’

  ‘Winter,’ I said, ‘you’ll have to forget about it. Just get out of his room and into the pool. You’re supposed to be over there for a swim, remember?’

  I hung up.

  ‘The suitcase is locked,’ I whispered to Boges. He swore under his breath as we waited anxiously in the back lane. After a
bout two minutes—two painfully slow minutes—we heard a splash in the pool. Both of us exhaled with relief.

  It was a long time before we finally saw Winter leaving Sligo’s through the back gate. She’d wrapped her sarong around her like a dress, tied at the neck. The beach towel and bag were slung over her shoulder, and her hair still looked sleek and wet.

  She shook her head slowly in our direction, warning us with her eyes. Then we heard footsteps following her. Someone was walking her out. Sligo!

  Boges and I crouched down even further, but not before seeing Winter stop and turn to Sligo, who took her in his arms and kissed her on the forehead.

  Once the coast was clear, Boges and I made our way to the beach. Winter had agreed to meet us there as soon as the job was done.

  We were sitting on the breakwater, kicking our legs out, both feeling dejected, knowing that Winter had been unable to get into Sligo’s suitcase. I couldn’t get the image of Sligo kissing her on the forehead out of my mind. Who did he think he was, replacement father of the year? It made me mad.

  Impatient, I pulled out my mobile and called her. She picked up almost immediately.

  ‘We’re already at the beach. Are you on your way?’

  ‘Almost there,’ she said, before hanging up.

  ‘What did she say?’ asked Boges. ‘What happened?’

  Winter suddenly jumped out from the darkness, almost giving us both heart attacks. ‘Ten big ones happened!’ she said, ducking between us and swinging her arms around our shoulders.

  ‘Ten big ones?’ I repeated. ‘Ten thousand dollars?’

  She nodded and patted her beach bag.

  My jaw dropped. Boges’s mouth was wide open, too.

  ‘I knew it was in there! I’ve already counted it,’ said Winter. ‘I left all the cigar boxes exactly as they were in his bag, minus the money, of course. Unless Vulkan actually needs to open one of the boxes, he won’t suspect a thing!’

  ‘But I thought it was locked. How did you get into it?’

  ‘Practically as soon as I hung up from you, I found the key. I just had time to get the bag open, extract the money, snag the piece of Oriana’s scarf on a clothing hanger, and get downstairs and into the pool! And here we are,’ she said.

  Even in the dim light I could see the broad size of her smile.

  ‘Give us a look!’ said Boges.

  We both leaned in as Winter proudly held the bag open and revealed the cash—wads of one-hundred dollar notes.

  ‘Ireland, here we come!’ said Boges. ‘Hey, we could make it a round-the-world trip!’

  ‘Don’t get too carried away,’ I said.

  ‘Another successful excursion!’ said Boges, standing up. ‘All right you two, I’d better get going. I have to start thinking about what story I’m going to tell Mum and Gran to cover the trip. Last year, some of the seniors went to Thailand for a couple of weeks to work with rescued elephants. I guess I could try something like that.’

  ‘Maybe rescued leprechauns?’ I suggested.

  ‘Hmm, that could work!’ my friend joked. ‘Let me know when you want to catch up again.’

  In front of the moon, the sky was purple mauve over the dark sea. Winter sat like a mermaid on the rocks just beyond the reach of the lamps that lit the curving beachfront.

  ‘Careful your bag doesn’t get washed away,’ I said as I stepped up to join her.

  ‘There’d have to be a tidal wave for me to let that happen. Hey,’ she said, moving over to make room for me, ‘I have some other really good news for you too. It involves Oriana, but that’s all I’m going to tell you right now. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. Just check the news.’

  Her cheeky grin told me not to bother trying to find out what she was on about.

  ‘You have no idea how creepy Sligo’s bedroom is,’ she said, moving on. ‘It’s all black—even the carpet. I was getting desperate to find the key to his suitcase, frantically feeling around behind all his suits and jackets in the built-in wardrobe. And that’s when I finally came across it, taped to the wall behind the suitcase. You’d better let Sharkey know the plan worked, and that he can go ahead and get that guy to start on your fake passport.’

  ‘Definitely. I’ll text him a bit later.’

  ‘Here, these are for your passport photo,’ she said, handing me a small plastic container. ‘Dark brown contact lenses. You should wear them when you get your picture taken—to help you look different.’

  I opened the container and looked inside, trying to hold it up so the contents were more visible in the moonlight. ‘Cool, thanks, I’ve never worn contacts before.’

  ‘They’re super easy to put in.’

  ‘Hey, guess what?’ I said. ‘Sharkey’s going to Ireland too, for a huge family reunion.’

  ‘Really? When?’

  ‘Some time over Christmas.’

  ‘How cool! That means we can all go together!’ said Winter. ‘It’d be perfect having Nelson with us. He’d know exactly what airport traps we should avoid, and it’d look good for us to be travelling with an “adult”. We can pretend he’s our teacher or something. Here,’ she said, digging into her bag and handing me some wads of cash. ‘That’s five grand there. That’ll cover your passport, and leave you with some extra. Maybe that Ormond Angel is looking out for you—it’s about time, considering we only have a few weeks left until the Ormond Singularity dies.’

  I really hoped I wouldn’t die before it.

  It was getting late, so Winter and I started walking away from the shore. We made our way over the sand and grass in silence, only stopping to speak once we’d reached the road.

  ‘So I guess I’ll give you a call soon?’ I asked her.

  ‘Um, yeah,’ she said, uncertainly. ‘You’re off to the treehouse?’

  ‘That’s home, right now. How’s Lesley Street been since the raid? Have your neighbours been talking?’

  ‘It’s been OK. Apparently this one guy who lives on the ground floor contacted the police. He said he’d seen you loitering downstairs.’

  ‘I think I know who that was,’ I said, picturing the man in the glasses who’d questioned me about which flat I lived in.

  ‘But don’t worry about it; they have no idea about your connection to me. No-one has a clue about you staying in my place. That’s the good thing about being hidden away, up on the roof. My guess is that most people forget I’m even up there.’

  ‘That’s a relief. I’d hate to get you into trouble.’ I adjusted my backpack. ‘Thanks heaps for getting this money for me. I’ll pay you back one day, I promise.’

  ‘I know you will. Can you do me a favour in the meantime?’

  ‘Course I can. What is it?’

  ‘Can you give me a place to crash tonight?’

  ‘Me? The treehouse?’

  ‘Yeah, do you mind? I don’t feel like going back to my empty flat tonight.’

  ‘Sure.’ For the last couple of months Winter had really shown her softer side. She definitely wasn’t the tough, cold-hearted girl I first thought she was. Far from it. ‘As long as you don’t mind sleeping on an uneven floor,’ I added.

  ‘I can handle that,’ she said. ‘Just lead the way.’

  48 days to go …

  A cool breeze was drifting in through the treehouse window, gently nudging the flames of the tea-light candles we’d lit. Winter wriggled closer to me. We were sitting on the floor, huddled under a blanket.

  ‘Hey,’ she said, softly, ‘want to see something funny?’

  ‘Yeah, what ya got?’

  After a moment’s hesitation, she reached down into her beach bag and dug around, before finally pulling out a small, square photo.

  ‘Here,’ she said, passing it to me.

  I took it in my hands and carefully peered at the image. In it was a girl with a black bob and fringe, wearing a huge grin, holding up a colourful drawing of a seahorse.

  ‘Winter, you were adorable,’ I couldn’t help saying. ‘You look so happy.’


  ‘I found the photo in a stash of my old things at Sligo’s place,’ she explained. ‘I’d forgotten this photo existed. Mum was always carrying around her instant camera. I used to love those first few moments after she’d take a picture. She’d always give it to me so I could watch the image slowly come into focus. I thought it was magic.’

  ‘When was it taken?’ I asked. I’d have guessed she was about Gabbi’s age. ‘You can talk to me, Winter,’ I said, sensing she was clamming up on me again. ‘We’re friends, right?’

  She nodded. ‘You know we’re friends. The picture was taken on my tenth birthday,’ she said, taking it back from me.

  ‘Your tenth birthday—wasn’t that the day of the accident?’

  She half-smiled as she nodded, as though she was happy I remembered her telling me that detail, but sad, casting her mind back to that horrible day.

  ‘It was taken just before we set off for the aquarium,’ she said. ‘I woke up so excited that morning. I remember ripping off my quilt and literally jumping out of bed. But when I reached the living room, Mum and Dad were pottering around, acting like it was any other, ordinary day. They told me they were just too busy to organise anything for me, and that they’d make it up to me on my eleventh birthday. As I think I mentioned last time to you, I chucked a bit of a tantrum …’ Her voice trailed off for a moment.

  ‘You don’t have to go on,’ I said, ‘if it’s too hard.’

  ‘No, Cal. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. I really want to get this out. I haven’t told you everything,’ she said, toying with her heart-shaped locket.

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘So,’ she continued, picking at a splinter in the floor. ‘I chucked this massive tantrum. I thought turning ten was such a big deal, and I couldn’t believe they were being so blasé about it. I cried and carried on until they agreed to take me to the aquarium.’