Mystery At Riddle Gully (7 page)

‘I didn't mean to bring him. He just followed me!' protested Pollo over Will's shoulder. ‘I must have accidentally left the gate open.'

They shuffled in the darkness along Diamond Jack's Trail in the direction of the ranger's hut, Will going first with Pollo directing in his ear. He could feel her short, sharp breaths on the back of his neck and her runners brushed his heels every second step. She wouldn't let go of her pen-torch, so its beam waved around from behind, making things worse.

Shorn Connery trotted a little way back, stopping frequently to tug at plants. ‘Couldn't you have just tied him up to be sure? Everyone for miles around will know we're coming if he starts bleating.'

‘There isn't anyone for miles around. Why do you think von Albericht's staying out here?'

Their footsteps crunched softly on the crumbly limestone track. The only other noises were the faint fluttering of bats overhead, the moaning of owls and frogs and, at their feet, the scurrying of unseen creatures. If they looked straight up they could just make out the shaggy silhouettes of trees against the dark sky. If they looked ahead into the ribbon of light from Pollo's torch, the rough, twisted limbs of those same trees slid in and out of focus like ghosts.

‘I'll tie him up with my scarf when we get closer,' said Pollo.

Will grunted. He had to admit, he was enjoying himself, if he ignored the fact that he'd been blackmailed into coming. It was kind of nice just walking along the bush track in almost total darkness, hearing all the bush sounds.

‘This whole area is haunted, you know,' said Pollo. ‘Dead bushrangers! Diamond Jack was an escaped convict. After raids, his gang used to gallop back here and hide out in the limestone caves. Some people say Riddle Gully got its name because the hills around here are riddled with caves. Others reckon it's because the troopers could never figure out how the bushrangers disappeared. But most of us think it's because they riddled Diamond Jack with bullets when they finally cornered him.'

‘No way!' said Will. ‘Did that happen near here?'

‘Just up ahead at the end of the track,' said Pollo, ‘in a clearing near the old abandoned railway bridge. That's why this trail is named after him. He's buried in the cemetery though. If you believe Mayor Bullock, he's one of Diamond Jack's descendants. He had Diamond Jack's grave all prettied up with a big plaque making it official.'

‘There's an old railway bridge, is there?' said Will. ‘I didn't even know there was a railway!'

‘They used it early last century to bring the timber down from the hills,' said Pollo. ‘Diamond Jack was long before that though—in the eighteen-fifties.'

She shuddered. ‘Heaps of bushrangers died in the caves. Bullet wounds, gangrene, blood poisoning and stuff like that. They've found skeletons. We're probably walking over some right now.' She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘They say that if you keep really still you can hear the bushrangers groaning.'

‘Let's keep really still then,' said Will.

‘Hmm ... maybe later,' said Pollo. They shuffled on a few more steps. ‘So you believe in ghosts then?'

Will thought a bit. ‘I like the idea of them. Yeah, I guess I believe in them.'

‘What about ... you know ... vampires?'

‘I'm not so sure about them. But this suspect of yours—it definitely sounds like he could be one. I hope he is!'

Pollo shivered. ‘Aren't you even a little bit scared?'

‘Well, yeah. I s'pose I am. But that's half the point,
isn't it? It's kind of cool.' It sure beat going to see
Love on the Wing.

‘Not when you're scared of the dark, it isn't!' blurted Pollo. ‘There—now you know! Go on, rubbish me for it.'

‘It's not exactly a surprise,' said Will. ‘It's why I'm here, isn't it?'

Pollo didn't answer.

‘When I was little, Clive used to tell me that everything's the same at night as in the day, only it's like you've got your eyes shut. Try it. Close your eyes and pretend it's daytime. You can put your hand on my shoulder if you have to.'

Pollo did as he said. ‘Who's Clive?' she said, treading on Will's left heel.

‘Ouch! My dad. He reckons when kids call their parents Mum and Dad it confines their relationship—whatever that means.'

‘My-oh-my! Adults say the strangest things,' said Pollo.

‘Well, my dad sure does,' said Will.

‘Still, this closing-your-eyes trick works. I might try doing it half and half.'

They edged along the track, Pollo's hand on Will's shoulder, Will trying to look past the thin torch beam that lurched around every time Pollo closed her eyes.

‘Where's Clive now?'

‘In the city. With my stepmother Tiff and their rug-rat—my half-brother, I guess.'

‘You don't sound too thrilled about it all.'

‘I'm getting used to it.' It felt good talking to someone other than Angela and HB or schoolteachers for a change. ‘Just like I'll get used to the good sergeant one day.'

‘Your stepdad?' said Pollo. ‘I wouldn't have thought he'd take much getting used to.'

‘He can be really annoying, take it from me,' said Will. ‘When I went to the school this morning I—'

He stopped, his heart clenched. What was he doing? Blabbing—to her of all people. The editor of the whatever-it-was-called! A blackmailer!

‘This morning?' Pollo rapped the back of his head with her knuckles. ‘You went to the school this morning?'

‘I was ... going to ... check out the cricket,' Will mumbled.

‘How come you didn't mention it earlier? You didn't see anything suspicious, did you?'

‘No way! Like I told you—I don't know anything about anything!'

‘Hmmph ... Pity.'

Behind him, Pollo had stopped. Will turned to see her holding the torch between her teeth. ‘You're not getting out that notepad, are you?' His voice came out higher and squeakier than he'd expected.

‘Nuh-uh,' said Pollo. She took the torch out of her mouth. ‘Why would I be doing that?'

‘Whew! I mean, no reason.' She gave the torch to Will to hold.

‘I'm taking off my scarf to tie up Shorn Connery. There can't be far to go.' She giggled. ‘It's made from his own wool! That'll confuse him!' She unwound the long scarf from her neck. It was riddled with holes. It looked more like a spider web to Will than anything.

‘Have you got giant moths at your place or what?' he said.

Pollo held up a ragged end and smiled. ‘Dad taught himself to knit on this—that's why it's so long. It took forever before he stopped dropping stitches. It's much better at the other end.'

‘Glad to hear it!' said Will. ‘I've been wondering,' he said after a moment. ‘Does this Sherri lady know what you're doing?'

Pollo shook her head. ‘Nuh-uh—that's the tricky part. Sherri told me that von Albericht had deliriously deep brown eyes. Enough said, right?' Pollo held Shorn Connery and began tying the scarf around his neck. ‘That's what all the hurry is about. I need to get evidence that this Viktor von Albericht is what I think he is before anything happens to her. If I told Sherri what I suspected without anything backing it up, she'd probably throw herself at von Albericht just to prove me wrong.' Pollo thought for a moment. ‘Maybe I should tell her that Dad's a vampire.'

Just then a strange sound swelled around them, wafting through the trees like a cold wind. Pollo, Will and Shorn Connery stopped dead, ears straining.

‘Dead bushrangers?' whispered Will.

Pollo's arms tightened around Shorn Connery as the sound swelled again, louder than before—a discordant yet strangely harmonious fizzing that seized the air, squeezing and releasing it, full of grave intensity as its pitch rose and fell.

Pollo gulped. ‘The pipe organ!' she whispered. ‘The favourite instrument of The Undead!'

‘A pipe organ—out here in the middle of nowhere? They're only in big cathedrals, aren't they?' said Will.

‘It's the twenty-first century, dummy!' said Pollo. ‘Vampires have portable sound systems too!'

Pollo and Will quickly scanned the scrub as best they could and found a small clear patch. They coaxed Shorn Connery into it and looped the end of his scarf around a bush alongside.

‘This grass is pretty stringy ... and the kangaroos have been at it,' whispered Pollo, sweeping the torch around to find a better spot. ‘I hope he'll be okay.'

‘He'll be fine,' said Will. ‘Come on, we need to get going!'

With Shorn Connery staring after them, they crept down the damp path in the direction of the music. With each step it grew louder and louder. They rounded a bend. Through the trees ahead they could make out the old ranger's hut in its clearing. Dim shafts of yellow light
slanted through the single small window. The pipe organ music was definitely coming from inside.

‘Looks like he's home,' said Will. ‘You might have to ... you know ... switch off the torch.'

Pollo's fingers crept onto Will's shoulders and gripped tight. There was a soft click, and everything around them turned black except for the thin strips of light from the hut.

‘We'll stop a bit to let our eyes get used to the dark,' said Will. ‘You okay?'

‘Sure,' said Pollo, her voice shaking.

Gradually the curtain of blackness drew back a little. Between the scraps of moon and starlight and the lights from the hut they could just make out the shapes and dim colours of the bushes and trees around them.

‘We should move,' said Pollo.

‘I'm ready when you are,' said Will. His skin was tingling. He felt charged, like when the Turbo Blaster at the Royal Show was about to take off.

Pollo took a deep breath. ‘Let's do this!'

They reached the edge of the clearing and the moat of gravel that lay between them and the old timber hut. They had taken two crunching steps when the organ music abruptly stopped. There was a murmur of voices.

‘He's got company,' whispered Will.

They waited on the edge of the clearing but the music didn't start up again. ‘They'll hear us if we keep going,' said Pollo.

Will checked his watch. ‘We can't stand here all night!' Chances were he didn't have a whole lot of time before his mum and HB got home from
Love on the Wing.

Pollo nudged him. ‘What are you like at climbing trees?' she whispered.

‘I haven't done it for a while ... Pretty good I guess.'

‘I reckon that one over there would give us a good view,' said Pollo, pointing to the bush beyond the clearing, ‘and it's in the dark if anyone comes outside.'

Will followed Pollo's finger. The tree was on the spindly side, but Pollo was right—it looked to have a line of sight to the small square window of the hut. And he was pretty sure Pollo wouldn't let him off the hook until she'd got what she came for.

‘It's worth a go,' he said. Why not add climbing trees in the middle of the forest in the dark to the list of strange things he'd done that day?

A few minutes later, their feet were wedged in the fork of a branch about three metres above the ground, the tree's rough bark digging into their arms as they hugged the trunk. They edged up to a standing position and carefully leaned sideways to peer through the small square window.

They froze.

‘Is that who I think it is?' whispered Will.

Pollo nodded slowly. ‘Sherri!' She gulped. Von Albericht had got to her already!

Pollo and Will watched from their tree. Sherri was nestled in a tattered armchair in the corner of the room, her dangly earrings catching the light as she nodded and laughed with Viktor von Albericht. Von Albericht, in black trousers and polo-neck, was filling her glass with a dark, red liquid from a strange, pillow-like vessel. It looked like the body of a dead animal, with a spigot where a head should have been.

‘He's got her drinking blood already!' said Pollo.

‘Does that mean we're too late?'

‘Not necessarily,' whispered Pollo. ‘He might just be giving her a taste for it. Let's hope it's only animal blood. Vampires drink that too sometimes.'

Von Albericht disappeared. A moment later the eerie
strains of pipe organ music again snaked from the hut. Pollo and Will wrapped their arms more tightly round their tree trunk.

Von Albericht moved back into view and crouched down next to a crate in the corner near Sherri. He reached in with both hands and brought out what appeared to be a small, furry animal. Sherri stopped smiling. She shrank back into her chair. Her eyes widened as von Albericht, cupping the animal in gloved hands, held it out to her. She flung up both hands to stop him bringing it closer.

‘Looks like a bat,' said Will above the sombre strains of the organ music.

Pollo nodded with a shiver.

As the notes swelled to a crescendo, von Albericht raised the animal level with his own chin. Staring intently at the tiny beast, he opened his mouth.

‘He's going to eat it!' squeaked Pollo. ‘I've seen enough! We've got to get Sherri out of there!' She was about to jump down from the tree when Will grabbed her arm.

‘Wait!' he said. ‘We can't just rush over there! He'll hear us coming. He'll be prepared!'

Suddenly the organ music plummeted into silence—and at that same moment, a barrel-bellied, stick-legged sheep trailing a black scarf burst into the clearing and clattered up the wooden steps to the front door of the hut.

Baaa-aaa-aaah!
Shorn Connery bellowed as only an angry, left-behind sheep can.

Pollo was about to call to him when the door swung open and the tall, dark shape of Viktor von Albericht loomed against the yellow light, the bright crimson puff of Sherri's hair bobbing behind him.

Pollo crouched low, pressing into the fork of the tree. Will, onto the other hand, having little experience in surveillance work, flung himself along the slim tree branch he'd been standing on. In seconds, he'd swung down to the underside and was dangling by his arms and legs like a pig on a pole being taken to market.

A very bendy pole.

With a whip-like crack, the branch gave way, dumping Will on the dirt with a loud
hoomph!
as the air from both lungs shot from his body.

Von Albericht's head snapped in their direction. He squinted into the dark, then took the steps in one bound and began striding towards them.

Pollo swung down from what was left of her tree fork. She dragged Will to his feet and draped his arm over her shoulders. ‘The track's back this way! We can cut through the bush!' Will couldn't breathe to object.

They scrambled through the pitch-black forest, Pollo closing her eyes whenever she dared, Will trying desperately to rake air into his lungs. Finally they emerged onto Diamond Jack's Trail. They flopped against a tree, catching their breath as quietly as they could.

A few minutes passed. There was no sign of von Albericht. Slowly Pollo stood up and looked around. She
tilted her head. ‘Can you hear anything?'

Will listened. ‘No. He probably went back to Sherri. Lucky for us, eh?'

His words hung in the air. Will and Pollo looked at one another, two heads thinking the same thought. With Sherri and Shorn Connery back at the hut, it might have been better if von Albericht had kept coming.