Money Run (21 page)

Maybe, he told himself, it will be made sooner than I thought.

Ash put the earphones in her ears. “Bad news, Benjamin,” she said.

“I saw it on the news,” he replied gloomily. “If it helps, the explosion didn't touch the helicopter you nicked. You can still use it to escape.”

“That's good,” she said. “But it won't be as stylish as Buckland's exit.”

“Exit? You mean he's not dead?!”

“Nope,” Ash said. “The bullets were blanks, and he had those things under his clothes that they use in the movies to make people look like they're getting shot.”

“How did he get the blanks into the gun?”

“I have no idea. Don't know how he knew where Peachey would aim, either. But he's not here – the fake TRA guys drove him away inside the anthrax box.” She sighed. “He planned the whole thing; and now we're left with nothing.”

“Well, not nothing exactly,” Benjamin said. “You've still got the cheque for ten grand he gave you, right?”

Ash smiled. “Yeah, that's something, I guess.” She took the envelope out of her pocket and tore it open. She was surprised to see not only a cheque, but a letter too.

Dear Ash,

By the time you read this, I will be a long way away. Now that I don't have the money the government wanted, I'm hoping there won't be anyone chasing me – but I can't guarantee that there won't still be a price on my head. It's not safe to tell you where I've gone.

You must be disappointed to see so much money slip through your fingers. You probably even know how much it was; I'm certain you found it. You and Benjamin are, after all, exceptional thieves.

I apologize for deceiving you. I first became aware of you and Benjamin when you attempted to steal a Bugatti Veyron from a friend of mine; I was fascinated, and have been keeping an eye on you ever since via several informers. The essay competition was staged to make sure I got to meet you in person before leaving the country – and before you attempted to rob me. For what it's worth, your essay really was the best.

This afternoon, I told you the truth – once you have more money than you need, you start looking for something else. You want reason, purpose, meaning. If you had won today, before long you would have felt as empty as I do. I know you first stole out of necessity, but I also know that now you do it recreationally. Don't lose your way. Don't take from good people. The excitement will fade, leaving remorse that you will be powerless to scrub away.

I'm going to make you an offer. You've seen my world, crossed swords with killers, and lived to fight again. Now you're ready to decide.

I have in my possession a list of one hundred priceless items that have been stolen. There are paintings, musical instruments, ancient artefacts, and even human body parts on it. I've written their current hiding places, the names of their rightful owners, and their dollar value beside each one. Their original owners will pay handsome rewards for their return. Their captors will stop at nothing to keep them.

You'd be doing what you do best, but for a good cause. And very good money.

Interested?

The Source

PS I've put a small down payment in the envelope to get you started.

Completely astonished, Ash removed the cheque from the envelope. At first she thought it was just $10,000, but then she counted the zeroes. It wasn't $96 billion, or even $200 million. But it was a start.

There was also a photograph. Buckland, smiling, with a big moustache and glasses. Ash gaped. He had been the courier on the aeroplane. The one escorting the alexandrite sculpture. She grinned.

She took the coffee voucher Buckland had offered her that morning out of her pocket. Two regular coffees, from any shop on the street.

“Hey Benjamin,” she said. “Want to get a coffee with me once I'm out of here?”

“Like, a date?” he asked hopefully.

“More like a business proposal,” Ash said, grinning. “But trust me, you're going to love it.”

Special thanks to my girlfriend, Venetia, whose unconditional support made this book possible. Also to Mum, Dad and Tom, who are always there for me, reading drafts, offering encouragement, and driving me to the airport at unreasonable hours of the morning.

Thanks to Billy Griffiths for much-needed feedback on an early draft.

Thanks everyone who volunteered their names for characters – I hope those I used enjoy seeing themselves as thieves and murderers.

There's a reason I keep thanking the team at Pan Macmillan – they're awesome. They treat their readers and their writers so well. I'd like to thank Anna McFarlane, Cate Paterson, Bri Tunnicliffe, Mary Verney, Penny Mansley and Ali Lavau, who looked after me and this book. Kudos to Sue Bobbermein and Julianne Sheedy, for their amazing publicity work. And special thanks to Claire Craig, whose perfectionism and creativity has once again turned a sequence of seemingly random events into a coherent novel.

I'd like to thank all the writers who made me feel so welcome – it means a lot. Special thanks to J.C. Burke, Terry Denton, Kate Forsyth, Scot Gardner, Barry Heard, Simon Higgins, Simmone Howell, Andrew Hutchinson, Justine Larbalestier, David Levithan, Tara Moss, Matthew Reilly, James Roy, Scott Westerfeld, Lili Wilkinson, and Markus Zusak. You all give this profession a good name.

I also want to thank the many musicians I've played alongside; every writer needs a break sometimes. There are many of you, but special mentions go to Sophie Chapman, Harry Coulson, Adam Dixon, Lia McKerihan, David Mahon, Debbie Masling, Brendan Magee, Kerri Gleeson, Reuben Ingall, Paddy Quiggin, and Tracy Webster.

Thank you librarians and teachers, for putting my books in students' hands. It's an honour to be your go-to guy for reluctant readers and voracious ones alike.

Thank you to the fans, for trusting me and allowing me the freedom to try something new. Hope you like it!

Lastly, a very special thank you to Paul Kopetko, to whom this book is dedicated. Everyone needs a friend like Paul; the tragedy is that he's one of a kind.

Jack Heath is an award-winning author of action-adventure books. He started writing his first book when he was thirteen years old and had a publishing contract for it at eighteen.

He is also the founder of New Poe, a website on which writers submit, critique, and win prizes for short stories.

When he's not writing or web-designing, Jack is performing street magic, composing film music, teaching or lecturing at schools and festivals, or playing a variety of instruments, including the piano and the bass guitar. He stoically ignores his lack of qualifications or training in any of these areas.

Jack lives in Canberra, Australia, with his girlfriend and their cat, Onyx.

jackheath.com.au

This ebook edition first published in the UK in 2011 by Usborne Publishing Ltd., Usborne House, 83-85 Saffron Hill, London EC1N 8RT, England.
www.usborne.com

First published in 2008. Text copyright © Jack Heath, 2008

The right of Jack Heath to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

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This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ePub ISBN 9781409538523

Batch no. 02240-04