Genius Squad (34 page)

He had too many other things on his mind.

The trip to Glebe Point Park was a quiet one. Saul wanted to concentrate on his driving, while Fiona appeared to be speechless with embarrassment. When they reached their destination, however, something about the golden light and crisp afternoon air loosened their tongues. The park was almost empty. A few people were walking their dogs along the foreshore; half a dozen kids were playing soccer under the trees. The sun was so low that even garbage bins and benches cast long shadows across the grass.

A pink-and-white ice-cream van was parked nearby.

‘The surveillance team didn’t follow us,’ Cadel observed, as he scrambled out of the car.

‘No.’ Saul was inspecting the ice-cream van. ‘I told them to watch the house for intruders. I can take care of you myself.’ He looked from the van to Cadel, and then to Fiona. ‘Would you care for a soft serve? My shout.’

‘Well, I shouldn’t . . .’ Fiona began, before capitulating. ‘Oh, all right. Thank you. Single scoop for me. Vanilla.’

Cadel requested two scoops of vanilla, and Saul contented himself with a can of lemonade. Having equipped themselves with their treats, they wandered over to a bench near the water, scaring off a couple of seagulls as they did so. Before them Sydney Harbour glittered like a sequinned cape beneath the lazy sweep of Anzac Bridge. Even the dockyards looked picturesque.

Cadel found himself sitting between Fiona and Saul. Both of them were beginning to relax. The lines on their faces had smoothed out.

‘I heard somewhere that this stuff is made out of pig fat,’ said Fiona, through a mouthful of ice-cream. ‘Amazing how nice pig fat can taste.’

Cadel grunted. Saul gave a half-smile. When he didn’t comment, Cadel examined his clean-cut profile and said, ‘So what did you want to tell me?’

The detective sighed.

‘To be honest, Cadel, I don’t
want
to tell you at all,’ he confessed. ‘But I promised I wouldn’t keep you in the dark.’ He dragged his gaze away from the shifting, gleaming surface of the harbour and fixed it on Cadel. ‘Remember how suspicious I was about GenoME setting up a branch in Australia? Remember how I thought it might have something to do with Prosper’s arrest?’

Cadel nodded, thinking: He doesn’t know about my talk with Gazo yesterday.

‘Well, I was right,’ Saul went on. ‘We’ve just received word from Gazo Kovacs that he’s been approached by GenoME to take part in a plot involving Prosper English.’ After a moment’s careful scrutiny, he added, ‘You don’t look very surprised.’

Cadel realised that he should have been guarding his expression, which was much too calm.

He shrugged. ‘You always said that it couldn’t be a coincidence,’ he rejoined, inwardly cursing his own stupidity. Saul seemed to accept this explanation, though he continued to watch Cadel in a pensive sort of way.

‘Apparently GenoME is planning to assassinate Prosper at the Coroner’s Court. With Gazo’s help. I’m pleased to say that Gazo came straight to us with the information.’ Saul frowned suddenly. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Ass-assassinate?’ Cadel stammered. ‘
Assassinate?
’

‘Yes,’ Saul replied. ‘It was on the cards. I daresay Earl Toffany wants to be his own man, without having to run errands for Darkkon or Prosper English. Darkkon’s dead now, of course, but there’s always a chance that Prosper might be acquitted – or that he might escape. Or even that he might rat on Earl Toffany: stranger things have happened.’ Saul heaved a sigh. ‘Anyway, whatever the reason, some of those GenoME drones are going to shoot Prosper when he’s in the courtroom.’ Lunging forward, the detective caught Cadel’s ice-cream as it slipped from his fingers. ‘Cadel? Look at me. It’s
not going to happen
.’

‘Oh dear.’ Fiona laid a hand on Cadel’s back. ‘Put your head down, sweetie. Take a deep breath.’

Cadel felt sick. He lurched to his feet, staggered a few steps, and vomited all over the grass.

By the time he’d finished, he was slumped on the ground, dazed and blinking. Fiona was wiping his mouth with a tissue; Saul was swearing somewhere behind him.

‘Water,’ Fiona said. ‘Empty that can, and get me some water.’ She must have been addressing Saul, because when Cadel started to get up, she forced him back down. ‘It’s all right. Everything’s all right.’

‘It must – it was the ice-cream.’ Cadel croaked.

‘I know.’

‘Pig-fat . . .’

‘Shh. Take it easy.’ Her cool hand was on his forehead. ‘Did you eat any lunch?’

‘Uh . . . no.’ He had been too busy. ‘But I’m okay now.’

‘Give it a minute,’ Fiona advised. ‘Saul’s bringing some water for you.’

Cadel couldn’t believe what had just happened. His whole body was trembling. He was racked with shame. How could he have been so feeble? What on earth was the matter with him?

‘Here.’ Saul thrust the lemonade can under Cadel’s nose. ‘Rinse your mouth out.’

‘He doesn’t have a temperature,’ Fiona murmured. ‘But he didn’t eat any lunch. And then with the ice-cream on top of that, and the shock . . .’

‘Can you move, Cadel? You don’t want to be sitting here, it’s a mess.’

Cadel struggled to his feet, appalled at how shaky his knees were. After collapsing onto the bench, he looked up to see Saul and Fiona hovering over him, wearing identical expressions of sympathy and concern. Fiona was bent almost double. Saul was holding the lemonade in one hand and a melting ice-cream cone in the other.

Cadel suddenly felt so bad about deceiving them that tears sprang to his eyes.

‘Oh, sweetie.’ Fiona smoothed his hair. ‘It’s all right. You mustn’t fret.’

‘We’ve got it all arranged,’ Saul hastened to add. ‘The court will be staked out, and so will the GenoME building. Gazo won’t lift a finger to help; he’ll disappear just before the action starts, so he won’t be in harm’s way – and won’t, with any luck, be stressed enough to lose control of his stench. As for the hired guns, we’ll have to catch ’em in the act. With their gas-masks. Otherwise we have nothing but Gazo’s statement, and he can’t name any names, or give us any descriptions. Since he was contacted by phone.’

Seeing Cadel wipe his wet cheeks, Saul relinquished the can of lemonade and pulled a neatly ironed handkerchief from his hip pocket. Passing it to Cadel, he said, ‘We won’t let your dad get hurt, Cadel.’

‘I don’t
care
about him!’ Cadel cried – though of course he was lying. The surge of emotion that he’d experienced at the mention of Prosper’s death had actually turned his stomach.

I must be tired, he thought desperately. I must be worried about Sonja. I shouldn’t have eaten that pig-fat ice-cream.

‘I don’t care about him – why should I?’ he insisted, furious with himself for succumbing to his own capricious feelings. He didn’t want to care about Prosper. He wanted to hate Prosper. ‘Anyway, for all we know, the whole shooting story is a lie,’ he went on, thankful that his brain was beginning to work again. ‘Gazo wouldn’t want to see Prosper released, and the GenoME people might realise that. Maybe they’re lying about wanting to shoot Prosper, just so Gazo will cooperate. And maybe, once Prosper’s out, they’ll shoot Gazo instead. So Gazo won’t have a chance to rat on them when he sees that Prosper wasn’t killed.’ Certainly there had been no mention of killing Prosper in Carolina’s emails. But then again, Sonja hadn’t decoded every one of them yet.

Cadel didn’t know what to believe.

‘If Prosper
is
freed, I’m in big trouble,’ he remarked unsteadily. Then, at the sight of Fiona’s pitying glance, he shrilled, ‘I’ll shoot him myself if I have to!’

‘Listen.’ Having shoved Cadel’s ice-cream into Fiona’s free hand, Saul placed his own hand on Cadel’s, crouching down in front of him. ‘There is no way on earth I’m going to let Prosper English anywhere near you,’ the detective sternly declared. ‘Even if he escapes – which he won’t – and even if he finds out where you are – which he won’t – he’s not going to get past me, I promise.’

Cadel studied the weary, anxious, fine-drawn face in front of him. Then he conjured up a memory of Prosper’s foxy smile and bright black gaze. The comparison was enough to make anyone flinch.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Please don’t get in his way. Prosper wouldn’t hurt me, but he’d hurt you. I know he would.’

Saul didn’t argue. All he said, after a moment’s silence, was, ‘It’s all right, Cadel.’ Then he stood up. ‘Let’s get you home,’ he suggested.

Home. Cadel couldn’t help reacting to this word. And something about his tight mouth and sagging shoulders alerted the detective, who squinted at him.

‘What is it?’ Saul asked.

‘Nothing.’ Cadel shook his head.

‘Don’t you feel at home in Clearview House? Is there a problem with that place?’

‘No.’ Cadel rose abruptly, turning to Fiona. ‘Can we go, please?’

‘Oh! Yes, of course.’ Fiona sounded flustered. ‘ Just let me get rid of these ice-creams,’ she said, and made for the nearest garbage bin.

When she was out of earshot, Saul leaned towards Cadel.

‘I know damn well something’s wrong,’ the detective muttered. ‘But if you don’t tell me what it is, I can’t help you. Cadel,’ he growled, ‘I
just want to help
.’

Cadel stared at him, and was sorely tempted. The relief of unloading every nagging concern – of trusting someone besides Sonja – would have been indescribable. Besides which, Cadel hated lying to Saul. Of all the people Cadel had ever met, Saul was the hardest to lie to.

But Cadel knew that he had to fight the urge to confess. Because after all, what kind of help could Saul really offer? Could he give Cadel a place to live? Could he give
Sonja
a place to live? No, he could not.

Thinking about Sonja, Cadel stiffened his resolve. What would happen to Sonja if Genius Squad was disbanded? So far, she and Cadel had received only a tenth of their fifty-thousand dollar payout – and they wouldn’t be receiving any more if the job wasn’t finished. At this point, if Sonja lost Clearview House, she would find herself back in her old haunts, with inadequate nursing care and a shared bathroom.

‘Sonja’s the one who needs help, not me,’ he said at last, looking Saul Greeniaus straight in the eye. ‘She can’t even go to the toilet by herself. She has to wear nappies to bed.’ Seeing the detective blink, Cadel took a deep breath. ‘If you can’t help Sonja, you can’t help me,’ he said flatly.

Then he headed back to the car.

THIRTY

When Cadel returned to Clearview House, he informed Genius Squad about the plan to kill Prosper English. He mentioned that the police would be staking out GenoME’s Australian branch on Monday, while the matter of the dead prison guard was being discussed at the Coroner’s Court. But he didn’t tell anyone that he’d lost control of his stomach.

He didn’t even admit it to Sonja – not until the next morning, when he took her for a walk around the neighbourhood. Then, at last, he felt free to talk without running the risk of being overheard.

‘I felt so bad,’ he finally confessed, as he manoeuvred Sonja’s wheelchair around a raised crack in the footpath. ‘The two of them were being so nice to me, and I sat there and lied. I’m sure that’s why I threw up. Not because I was worried about Prosper or anything.’ When Sonja didn’t reply, he added, ‘It was the guilt. The guilt made me sick.’

‘
Maybe
,’ was Sonja’s cautious response.

‘It’s funny, because I never used to be like this. I never used to mind lying.’ Cadel glanced behind him at the surveillance team’s car. This car would drive for a hundred metres or so, then park and wait until Cadel had passed it before trundling forward another hundred metres, only to park and wait once again. ‘You know what worries me?’ he said softly. ‘What worries me is what’ll happen if Saul finds out about the squad. He’s going to be so mad. So disappointed.’ Cadel pulled a face. ‘I don’t even want to think about it.’

‘
What-worries-me-is-finding-another-place-to-live,
’ Sonja rejoined, jabbing at the Dynavox screen very slowly, and with great difficulty. ‘
If-Clearview-House-closes
.’

‘Trader said it won’t. Not yet.’

‘
I-know
.’ There was a long pause. ‘
But-do-you-trust-him?
’

Cadel hesitated. They had come to an intersection, and he stopped at the kerb, peering up and down a wide, empty street.

At last he said, ‘No. Not really.’

‘
Me-neither
.’

With a heave, Cadel steered Sonja’s wheelchair onto the road, and crossed both lanes at a brisk pace. Only when he had reached the other side, and negotiated the gutter, did he remark, ‘I always feel as if he’s hiding something. But I don’t know what it could be. Do you?’

‘
Maybe-he’s-just-ruthless
,’ Sonja proposed. ‘
Maybe-he-doesn’t-care-what-happens-to-us, even-though-he-pretends-to
.’

‘Maybe that’s it.’

‘
Judith-cares
.’ After a momentary battle with her own skittish body, Sonja continued in a voice that might have been defiant if it hadn’t been electronically generated. ‘
I-like-Judith
.’

Cadel grunted.

‘
She’s-an-embezzler, but-she-has-principles.
’ Suddenly Sonja rolled her eyes, as if embarrassed by her own lame rationalisation. ‘
This-is-so-hard
,’ she spelled out. ‘
Isn’t-it
?’

Cadel knew what she meant. Nothing seemed clear-cut; everything was unsettlingly ambiguous. But he didn’t say anything, because they were passing an elderly dog-walker.

This woman was the first pedestrian they’d encountered since setting out. It was very quiet. Though the noise of a nearby highway occasionally drifted across the lichen-encrusted roofs of neighbouring houses, the atmosphere was as hushed as a church. Cadel felt that he was walking through a kind of oasis, cut off from the harsher, louder, brighter districts not far away.

‘What was going on last night when I got home?’ he asked, to change the subject. ‘What was all the fighting about?’

After a brief flurry of movement, during which Cadel had to resettle her in the wheelchair, Sonja informed him that Hamish had played a trick on Devin. ‘
Hamish-said-that-he’d-reprogrammed-Devin’s-iPod-with-lots-of-old-fashioned-music
,’ Sonja explained, ‘
and-Devin-hit-the-roof
.’