Genius Squad (15 page)

‘You remember that, do you?’ He shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago.’

It
had
been a long time ago: two years, to be exact. Cadel recalled the incident vividly. Details of the attack had been all over the Internet: Hamish had been tampering with speed-camera photographs, altering the MD5 hash of each shot. There had even been newspaper coverage. But the name of the offender had been withheld.

‘I thought Hamish Primrose came from a privileged background?’ Saul pressed on, remorselessly. ‘What’s he doing in a place like this, if he’s got wealthy parents?’

Trader opened his mouth to reply. It was Fiona, however, who answered for him. Her cheeks were flushed and her tone was sharp.

‘I don’t see how that’s any of your business,’ she scolded, addressing Saul. ‘These kids aren’t under suspicion of any crimes, are they?’

‘No,’ Saul was forced to concede, ‘but – ’

‘Then if you have a question, you should go through the proper channels,’ Fiona concluded. ‘Even children have a right to their privacy, Mr Greeniaus!’

This unexpected broadside had a visible effect on Saul. He stood for a moment, pondering, while Trader glanced from his face to Fiona’s, and back again. Trader seemed impressed. There was a twinkle in his eyes.

Cadel felt bad. He couldn’t have said why, exactly, but he didn’t like to see Fiona and Saul arguing. Especially when the subject of the argument was Clearview House.

At last Saul requested a private word with Fiona – and Trader took the hint. He politely departed, leaving his guests to talk among themselves. Cadel heard his footsteps on the stairs, loud in the sudden silence.

It was an awkward moment.

‘I need to have a talk with Ms Currey,’ Saul finally remarked. ‘We can do it in the office, if you want to stay here, Cadel.’

Cadel shook his head.

‘It’s okay,’ he replied. ‘I’ll go and check out the office.’

‘Are you sure?’ Fiona sounded worried. ‘Don’t you want to have a better look at this room?’

‘No,’ said Cadel, and withdrew, shutting the door behind him. But he didn’t head for the office. He was far more interested in what his two advisors were going to talk about.

So he pressed his ear against the closed door, listening hard. And he caught the low rumble of Saul’s voice.

‘Look.’ The detective was trying to be patient. ‘It’s inevitable that we should have different objectives, but the one thing that’s paramount for both of us is Cadel’s safety. And how can I ensure his safety if I don’t know exactly who’s living with him?’

‘Mr Greeniaus,’ said Fiona, ‘this place has been approved and accredited – ’

‘I know. I realise that.’

‘And I honestly can’t see why you’re being so negative,’ Fiona went on. ‘This seems like a perfectly good stop-gap solution. The staff are well qualified. The facilities are excellent – ’

‘Yes,’ Saul interrupted. ‘The facilities
are
excellent. That’s what worries me. The security is too good. That gate, for example. And the alarm system. And there’s a camera by the front door.’

Cadel frowned. He was angry with himself for missing the camera.

He was also filled with a new respect for Saul Greeniaus.

‘But that means nothing,’ said Fiona. She wasn’t about to admit defeat. ‘What makes you think all those things were installed by Mr Lynch? They were probably put in by the previous tenants.’

‘Well . . . maybe.’

‘I just can’t see what you’re getting at. If this isn’t a legitimate operation, then what is it?’

‘I’m not sure.’ During the pause that followed, Cadel tensed. Without their dialogue to guide him, he didn’t know where Saul and Fiona actually were. He couldn’t tell whether they were leaving the room or not. ‘You have no idea what Phineas Darkkon’s network was like,’ Saul continued at last – much to Cadel’s relief. Clearly, the detective hadn’t moved a muscle. ‘It was gigantic. We still don’t know what it was capable of.’ Saul’s tone became uncharacteristically strained, though he was still speaking quietly. ‘Cadel isn’t an ordinary kid. We can’t be too careful – it’s an exceptional case.’

‘Then why don’t the
police
pay for his out-of-home care?’ Fiona demanded. ‘If you’re so worried about Cadel?’

‘We can’t. The funds haven’t been allocated. We don’t have the jurisdiction.’

‘Well, what do you expect me to do, then? You didn’t like Mace, and now you don’t like Clearview House. What are the alternatives?’

A sigh. Cadel suspected that it might have been Saul’s.

‘You said it was an urgent priority, to move Cadel,’ Fiona went on. ‘You said he was at risk in the Donkins’ home, because of that computer message.’

‘All I want,’ Saul said patiently, ‘is to make sure that Cadel is all right.’

‘Oh, and you think I
don’t
want that? You think I don’t care – that I’d prefer to offload him?’ Realising, perhaps, that she was talking too loudly, Fiona adjusted her volume. ‘You don’t understand what this is like for me,’ she hissed. ‘I’m not supposed to play favourites – I have an enormous caseload. If I could look after him myself, I would, but I can’t! I just can’t!’

Cadel swallowed. Then he heard a noise, and swung around.

A woman was emerging from the office: a small, dumpy woman with oily black hair tied up in a knot. She wore a striped blouse, a navy-blue skirt, and flesh-coloured stockings.

When she spotted Cadel staring at her, she put a finger to her lips.

‘What –?’ he began, at which point something clicked in his head. The shiny black hair. The double chin. The heavy eyebrows. They were all familiar. ‘Hey!’ he said, then remembered where he was, and began to whisper. ‘Hey! Wait! Please!’

He wanted to ask if she was Com’s sister, but she wouldn’t stop. Nor would she reply. She just kept walking past him, towards the stairs. She walked at a rapid, steady pace, like a machine. Her high heels clicked rhythmically.

Before he could run after her, the door behind him swung open.

‘Cadel?’ said Fiona. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, I – yes.’ Cadel was embarrassed. He wondered if Saul would guess that he had been eavesdropping.

Saul, however, seemed more interested in the woman on the stairs.

‘Who was that?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Cadel replied.

‘She didn’t tell you her name?’

‘No,’ said Cadel.

‘Well, she didn’t
look
very dangerous,’ Fiona remarked, and put her hand on Cadel’s shoulder. ‘Listen, sweetie. Mr Greeniaus has agreed that you can stay here, at least for a short period. And I can’t see any problem. So when do you want to move in?’

Cadel felt weak with relief. He had to clutch at a banister. ‘Can I move in now?’ he said. Then he saw Fiona’s expression, and corrected himself. ‘I mean – this afternoon?’

Fiona hesitated. Saul glanced at his watch.

‘What about four o’clock?’ the detective proposed. ‘I can meet you at the Donkins’ place. After my next appointment.’

Fiona blinked.

‘Oh, but – ’

‘I’ll help with the heavy stuff,’ Saul declared, to Fiona’s evident consternation. Her forehead puckered.

‘That’s not necessary,’ she pointed out. ‘We’ll have Leslie to help us at that end, and all the Clearview staff at this end. You don’t have to bother.’

‘I’ll help with the heavy stuff,’ Saul repeated flatly, and Cadel saw at once that the detective was determined to have his way.

Fiona must have realised this too. Because she started down the stairs without uttering another word.

THIRTEEN

One of Cadel’s most treasured possessions was a mug that Sonja had given him for his fifteenth birthday. It was covered in mathematical equations, and bore the legend
You’re Number One!

Mace managed to drop this mug while he was transporting it to Saul’s car. When Cadel arrived on the scene, he found the driveway scattered with delicate shards of porcelain. Mace was insisting that he had broken the mug by accident – that it had simply fallen out of the box he was carrying.

Cadel knew better.

‘Who said you could touch my things?’ he demanded, white with rage. ‘Who said you could set
foot
in my room?’

‘I did,’ panted Hazel, who had also appeared. She was lugging a bin-liner full of Cadel’s clothes. ‘I told Thomas he could take some books. Thomas, why did you put that mug in there?’

‘I was trying to help!’ Mace whined. But Cadel wasn’t fooled. He knew that Mace was determined to exact a fitting revenge for the lost bike magazines, before Cadel disappeared altogether.

‘I don’t want your help,’ Cadel said through his teeth. ‘Just put that box down and leave my stuff alone.’

Mace scowled. Then he let go of the box in his arms, which hit the concrete driveway with a huge
thump
. Hazel squeaked. Cadel gasped.

From his car, Saul yelled, ‘What’s going on?’

‘Oh,
Thomas
!’ For once, Hazel had no illusions. ‘How
could
you?’

‘He told me not to touch his stuff,’ Mace replied, hands on hips. He was in a dangerous mood. While probably glad to see his foster-brother leave, he must have resented the fact that Cadel seemed so happy about going. ‘It’s only books, anyway.’

‘Thomas, I know you must be upset about saying goodbye – ’

‘He’s not upset. He’s jealous,’ Cadel snapped, so angry that he didn’t care how deep a wound he inflicted. ‘He’s jealous because somebody actually
wants
me. And nobody wants him.’

Mace grabbed Cadel just as Saul cried, ‘Hey!’ Though Mace ignored this rebuke, he couldn’t get a proper grip on Cadel before the two of them were being wrenched apart. Cadel then ducked behind Saul, already regretting his flash of temper.

Mace backed off. He wasn’t stupid enough to start fighting with a policeman.

‘What happened here?’ asked Saul, gazing down at the shattered mug.

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Mace began, just as Cadel exclaimed, ‘He did it on purpose!’ Saul held up his hand, silencing them both.

He turned to Hazel.

‘Too many cooks spoil the broth,’ he said. ‘We don’t need another body – perhaps Thomas can go and do something else.’

This wasn’t a suggestion; it was an instruction. And Mace didn’t argue with it. Instead he stomped back into the house, passing Fiona on his way.

She was lugging a sports bag heavily weighted with shoes.

‘What’s wrong?’ she said, as Hazel surrendered her own plastic bag to Saul. He took it over to the boot of his car, while Hazel gave a hurried report to Fiona.

Cadel followed Saul. He stood watching the detective, who looked much thinner than usual in jeans and a shabby old shirt. Saul was trying to insert the over-stuffed bag between boxes of books and compacts discs.

‘Sorry about the commotion,’ said Cadel. ‘It’s just that he smashed Sonja’s birthday present. Deliberately. And I had to say
something
, even if it did get him mad.’

Saul slammed the boot shut. He stood for a moment, contemplating his car’s gleaming exterior.

‘I don’t like Clearview House,’ he replied. ‘But I can understand why you want to go there.’ And he glanced towards Hazel’s front door, his expression bleak. ‘Anything’s worth getting away from that poisonous little prick.’

Cadel couldn’t have been more surprised. It was the first time he had ever heard Saul use such strong language. All at once Cadel realised that Saul disliked Mace just as much as he did.

This thought was very comforting, and helped Cadel to endure the goodbyes that took place after the packing was done. Hazel shed a few tears. Janan’s bottom lip trembled (though he brightened up when Cadel promised to send him some chocolate-bar wrappers). Even Leslie looked sad. Cadel thanked the Donkins sincerely and gratefully for their kindness; he knew that he was in their debt, and wished that he could have been an easier charge. The fact that Hazel cried at their parting, however, encouraged him. It meant that he hadn’t been too much of a burden.

Happily, there were no more encounters with Mace, who stayed holed up in his room until after Cadel had left. But Cadel did glimpse his tormentor through the rear window of Fiona’s hatchback. As the car pulled out of the Donkins’ driveway, Cadel turned to wave at his foster-parents, and saw Mace behind them, hovering at the window of Cadel’s old bedroom.

No doubt Mace was setting up some kind of booby-trap for the room’s next occupant.

‘Now, sweetie,’ said Fiona, who had insisted that Cadel ride with her, rather than with Saul, ‘if there
is
anything that worries you about Clearview House, then give me a ring. Not that I’m expecting any problems. Mr Greeniaus is paid to be suspicious, and I don’t want him getting you all paranoid. Because I’m sure there’s no need to be.’

‘Oh, I’m not,’ said Cadel.

‘You’ve got to understand that policemen have a very one-sided view of the world. It’s not their fault. You just have to remember they can be a bit over-cautious.’

‘Mr Greeniaus is all right, though, don’t you think?’ Cadel was moved by a vague desire to defend Saul. ‘I mean, he’s pretty smart.’

Fiona blushed. Cadel saw this, and wondered why her cheeks had grown pink. But all she said was, ‘Well – you should know about being smart, I guess.’

The drive to Clearview House was a long one, ending in a quiet suburban area full of tree-lined streets and high, ivy-clad fences. When Fiona and Cadel finally arrived at their destination, they found Saul already unloading his car in the fading light. Cadel rushed to help him. Though Saul refused to let Cadel lift any heavy boxes, both Fiona and Cadel were allowed to carry clothes. Fiona picked up some jeans and jackets. Cadel shouldered a pillowcase full of socks, pyjamas and underwear.

He could sense that he was being watched from various upstairs windows. No one came out to greet him, however, until he had almost reached the front door – which was suddenly flung open by a man whose face he didn’t recognise. This man was short and stocky, with a grey crew-cut, a broken nose and a gruff voice. Everything about him was square: his jaw, his build, his hands, his outfit.

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘You must be Cadel. I’m Cliff Wylie. How are you?’ He stuck out his hand, which Cadel politely shook. ‘I co-manage Clearview House with Trader Lynch,’ Cliff explained. ‘My background is . . . well, let’s just say it’s in logistics,’ he said, rather obliquely. ‘Trader looks after the staff, and I look after the premises. Repairs. Maintenance. Supplies. That sort of thing.’ Then he introduced himself to Fiona, who had followed Cadel to the door.