Genius Squad (47 page)

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ Cadel continued. ‘She must have bought this place because it’s close to some little country airstrip!’

‘You’re supposed to be asleep,’ said Prosper, in an absentminded fashion. He was rearranging his cards. ‘You’re so exhausted, you’re not thinking straight.’

‘Yes I am.’ In fact, Cadel was thinking with great clarity. ‘But a light plane won’t get you
that
far. Is there going to be a fuel stop? Do you have a boat stashed somewhere really remote? Down on the south coast, or something?’

‘An interesting scenario,’ said Prosper, sounding deeply bored. Then Alias turned his head.

‘Shh,’ he whispered. ‘Listen.’

Everyone fell silent. Sure enough, the hum of an approaching car-engine was faintly audible.

Prosper checked his watch.

‘That’s probably Vadi,’ he observed. ‘Still, it’s best to be on the safe side.’ Whereupon he set down his cards, and picked up his gun.

Watching him leave the room, Cadel tried not to look as frightened as he felt. When Vadi returned, he would want his electronic organiser. But Vadi’s organiser was still sitting behind the TV, because Cadel hadn’t been given a chance to retrieve it.

Judith’s aeroplane
, Cadel fretted.
I need to tell Saul about Judith’s aeroplane
. By leaving an encoded message, perhaps? Using Judith’s deck of cards, and the Solitaire cipher?

Of course, he might not have to leave a message. Not if Saul asked Judith for the address of her cabin, and Judith mentioned the nearby plane. Then Saul might put two and two together, and realise what was going on . . .

Whack!
A large, light, plastic-covered bundle suddenly bounced off Cadel’s skull.

‘There,’ said Prosper, from the doorway. ‘There are your nappies. Now what are you going to do with them?’

‘Uh . . .’ Cadel hesitated.

‘What if I carry her into the main bedroom?’ Alias was trying to be kind. He rose from his chair, laying his cards face-down on the table. ‘Would that help?’

Cadel wondered if there were any locks on the bedroom doors.

‘I guess so,’ he said, thinking hard. ‘But she won’t want anyone else there when I – when she – well, you know.’

Then his stomach turned over, as he saw Vadi approach the side-table.

‘I’m afraid you’ve forfeited your right to privacy, dear boy,’ Prosper declared. ‘Since you can’t be trusted not to abuse the privilege.’

‘But Sonja – ’

‘Can blame
you
for any embarrassment she has to endure.’ Peering across at her, Prosper frowned. ‘By the by,’ he remarked, ‘you might like to tie her down before you attempt anything. She appears to be having some sort of tantrum.’

It wasn’t a tantrum, however. It was a convulsive, muscular response to seeing Vadi pick up his organiser case. Cadel reached for Sonja’s hand just as Vadi said, ‘Where’s my Palm Pilot?’

After which, for five full seconds, silence reigned.

Slowly, Prosper turned his head. Vadi and Alias followed suit, until they were all three staring at Cadel – who lifted his chin defiantly, his face as white as salt.

Sonja began to make little chirping noises.

‘Where is it?’ Prosper finally asked.

‘Where’s what?’ said Cadel. He was only buying time; he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stall Prosper for very long. In fact he doubted that much advantage would be gained from a delay, especially if Prosper started to throw his fists around. Cadel half-expected it, bracing himself for a slap on the face, at the very least.

Instead, Prosper seized a handful of Sonja’s hair.

‘You know,’ he said, in conversational tones, ‘if I was to dislocate her spine, she wouldn’t be hugely inconvenienced.’

‘It’s there.’ Cadel pointed. ‘Behind the television.’ While Vadi was crossing the room, he added, ‘I sent a message. Don’t hurt her – ’

‘What message?’ Prosper interrupted, his grip on Sonja’s hair tightening.

‘I said I was here.’ Cadel’s voice shook. ‘If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. I will.’

‘It’s plugged in,’ said Vadi, yanking his organiser free of its connection. ‘There’s a cable back here – I don’t know what it’s for.’

Cadel was poised to hurl himself straight at Prosper, whose gun was almost certainly tucked away in his clothes somewhere. There was a very slim chance that Cadel might be able to reach it before its owner did, if Sonja’s life was threatened.

But Prosper didn’t move. He didn’t so much as shift his weight.

He seemed to be reviewing their predicament, his dark gaze blank and impenetrable.

‘The fire,’ he said at last. Then he examined his watch again. ‘Damn it.’

‘I don’t understand how you could get this to work,’ Vadi muttered, gingerly nursing the rescued organiser. ‘It’s so
old
. It wasn’t designed to link up with the Internet. Was it?’

‘It’s an information delivery system,’ Cadel replied. ‘You just have to know how to unlock the right doors – ’

‘Okay, listen.’ Prosper released Sonja’s hair, so that her head fell back onto the sofa cushions with a soft
thud
. He spoke crisply and rapidly. ‘This is going to be tight, but we might just make it. As long as we leave right now.’

Alias gawped at him.

‘But – ’

‘
Now!
’ Prosper barked. ‘Into the car! Everyone!’

‘But my message might not have got through,’ said Cadel. ‘You might be safe. I’d have to check.’

It was a last-ditch effort, and it was futile. Vadi hissed in disbelief. Prosper narrowed his eyes, not the least bit amused by Cadel’s clumsy attempt to get back on-line.

‘You’d be better employed keeping your mouth shut and your hands to yourself,’ was Prosper’s recommendation. ‘I’m beginning to lose patience with you, I really am. You’re pushing your luck.’ He grabbed Cadel’s collar. ‘Now get into the car, or I’ll
drag
your friend there by one foot.’

‘Which car?’ said Alias, and Prosper bared his teeth in an impatient snarl.

‘The hatchback,’ he snapped. ‘What else?’

‘But we’ll be early,’ Vadi objected.

‘Then we’ll improvise.’

‘But my stuff!’ cried Alias. ‘All my make-up and prosthetics – !’

‘Leave them.’ Seeing Alias hesitate, Prosper slid his free hand into the pocket of his jacket. ‘I can’t let you get caught. You do realise that, don’t you?’

It was a none-too-subtle threat, which Alias understood perfectly. His eyes widened. He retreated a step.

‘I’ll take the girl,’ Vadi offered. ‘Alias can drive.’

‘No. You drive,’ said Prosper. As Vadi opened his mouth to remonstrate, Prosper overrode him. ‘Forget the plan. The plan has changed. Speed is essential. That’s why we have to get going!
Right now!
’

So they left. Vadi took Sonja, and Alias took the nappies. Prosper kept his hand firmly clamped around Cadel’s collar until they were all safely bundled into the green car, where Cadel found himself in the back seat, wedged between Sonja’s lolling form and Prosper’s rigid one. Then Vadi took off, accelerating up the driveway and veering onto the road. Cadel had driven with Vadi once before, in a sleek and stately BMW. It had been such a smooth ride that Cadel had spent at least half of it dozing.

But when pressed for time, Vadi had a lead foot. And though Cadel shut his eyes quite often during this second trip, it wasn’t because he felt drowsy. It was because he didn’t have the courage to open them.

Vadi drove like a Formula One racer.

‘Jesus!’ gasped Alias, after a particularly close shave. ‘You’re going to kill us!’

‘No he’s not.’ Prosper spoke calmly. ‘He’s had special training.’

‘Yes, so you said!’ Alias squeaked. ‘But we’re not on the plane yet, for God’s sake!’

Prosper laughed. He seemed genuinely amused. All he said, however, was: ‘Do you still have that gun, Vadi? Then give it to Alias. He can return it when we arrive.’ As Alias craned around to look at him, wearing a pained expression, Prosper remarked, ‘I don’t want to be stopped for speeding.’

Strangely enough, they weren’t. Though Vadi drove like a maniac, bouncing through potholes and screeching around bends, no flashing lights or wailing sirens intruded upon their frantic journey. In fact they hardly saw any vehicles at all; the crumbling country roads over which they skimmed bore very little traffic. Once they passed an old ute, heading in the opposite direction. Once they overtook a brand-new Range Rover, which sounded its horn at them. And once they nearly collided with a truck full of sheep. But for the most part their passage was unobserved.

Vadi barrelled along without hindrance, answering questions in a distracted sort of way, both his hands on the wheel.

‘She has leased space in a hangar,’ he explained, for Prosper’s benefit. ‘There aren’t many buildings there. One belongs to a glider club. It’s only busy on the weekend.’

‘So what kind of interference can we expect?’ asked Prosper. Then, with a wry half-smile, he added, ‘Besides the police, of course.’

‘Maybe an airstrip manager,’ Vadi replied. ‘It might be too late to avoid him now. If we’re lucky, there will be no one.’

‘Why didn’t we just break in overnight?’ Alias queried. ‘Is there an alarm system, or something?’

‘No,’ said Prosper. ‘But most regional airstrips only operate during daylight hours, and I didn’t want to alert people. Besides, we’re neither of us too confident about flying at night. Are we, Vadi?’

‘That’s not the main reason,’ Vadi retorted, a little put out. ‘You told me to book a time. So I did.’

‘Yes,’ Prosper agreed. ‘Because a stolen aircraft would have created a ruckus. I wanted to keep things as quiet as possible for as long as possible.’ His gaze slid sideways towards Cadel, who hunched his shoulders. ‘Unfortunately, now that our cover’s blown, there’s not much point trying to play by the rules.’

‘This place is hard to find,’ Vadi said. ‘That might work in our favour.’

‘It might.’ Prosper didn’t sound very sanguine. ‘We still have to rethink our second leg, though.’

Vadi grunted, and Cadel wondered what exactly this ‘second leg’ might entail. But Prosper’s whole body was as taut as a guitar string, and Cadel didn’t want to make inquiries – just in case they triggered an outburst.

If Prosper lost his temper, Sonja would be his prime target.

All at once the car began to slow, as it approached a modest T-junction. The sign that marked this intersection was so badly scarred by lead shot that it had been rendered illegible; nevertheless, the very existence of a sign indicated that something important must lie at the end of an otherwise unpromising side-road. Certainly Vadi didn’t hesitate over his choice of routes. He turned straight onto the rough dirt track, which wound through several hectares of level, scrubby land, much of it covered with stands of ironbark and grevillea. Mysterious bits of rusty casing were scattered here and there. Parakeets fled from the roar of the engine.

After a few minutes, Alias had to get out and open a barred gate.

At last, however, they reached cleared countryside, and saw, across a flat expanse of yellowish grass and macadam, the distant gleam of metal roofs. Beyond these roofs more bush seemed to jostle against a perimeter fence. And beyond the treetops a low hill reared up, half shorn of its timber.

‘There it is,’ said Vadi. ‘And that’s the manager’s car.’

‘Keep going,’ Prosper advised. ‘Don’t slow down.’

‘What if they’ve already called this manager guy? The police, I mean? What if they’ve warned him?’ Alias demanded. To which Prosper replied, ‘If they’d warned him, he wouldn’t be here. I’m armed and dangerous, remember? They wouldn’t have let him stay.’ With another quick glance at Cadel, he murmured provocatively, ‘We seem to be in luck, don’t you think?’

No one said anything else – not for several minutes. As Vadi drove briskly around the edge of the airfield, Cadel spied a windsock flapping away on top of a pole. A single-engine aircraft was tethered near one of the steel sheds grouped to the north of the windsock. The smallest of these sheds, which boasted several windows and an air-conditioner, also bore a large sign that said ‘OFFICE’.

A white station wagon was parked directly under the sign.

‘There he is,’ said Vadi. ‘There. See? The airstrip manager.’

Sure enough, a man was climbing out of the white car. From a distance, it was hard to make out what he looked like. But his interest in the approaching hatchback was evident from the way he turned to peer at it, shading his eyes from the early-morning sun.

‘Is this the only road in?’ asked Prosper, and cursed under his breath when Vadi answered that it was. By now they were close enough to see the manager’s brown hair and moustache. He wore a pair of jeans under a plain khaki jacket.

‘He’s just arrived. Look. He’s still got his keys out,’ said Alias. And Cadel instantly realised what
that
meant.

Any warning issued by the police might very well be sitting on the office voicemail, waiting to be heard.

‘Okay,’ said Prosper. ‘I can’t see any more cars, so this won’t take long. Vadi stays here with the kids, until I say otherwise. Alias – give that weapon to Vadi. And remember: I want to get as close to this guy as possible before throwing my weight around, or he might try to run. Cadel . . .’ Prosper’s dark glare was like a double-barrelled shotgun, aimed straight at Cadel’s forehead. ‘You keep your mouth shut, or people are going to get hurt. Understand?’

Mutely, Cadel nodded.

‘Right. Stop here.’ Prosper unbuckled his seatbelt as Vadi stamped on the brake. ‘This is close enough. Okay – are we all clear about what’s going to happen? Vadi stays put. Cadel shuts up. And Alias . . .’ Prosper inclined his head. ‘Alias, it’s over to you, now.’

FORTY-TWO

The poor airstrip manager didn’t stand a chance. He smiled broadly as soon as Alias emerged from the car. In fact, judging from the enthusiastic reception that Alias received, Judith Bashford was a familiar and welcome sight around the airstrip.

Then Prosper climbed out of the back seat and joined Alias. Cadel watched the airstrip manager stride towards them. Clearly, there was nothing alarming about Prosper’s wispy white hair and tweed jacket. If there had been, the airstrip manager would surely have faltered a little, his smile fading. He wouldn’t have hurried so eagerly to close the gap between himself and his visitors.