Riddle Gully Secrets (11 page)

‘I think we're pretty safe,' said Pollo. ‘Take care, Ash. We'll meet you back at Dan's camp – hopefully with a strongbox in our arms.'

‘Be careful, not brave,' said Ash with a wave. Within seconds she had disappeared up the path and melted into the forest.

At the Federal Hotel in Riddle Gully, a chirpy rendition of ‘You Are My Sunshine' tinkled from the mobile phone beside the bed. A muscular arm emerged from under the sheet and tapped the phone to silence. Curly swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his hair with both hands. He switched on the kettle, shaved, splashed himself with Wild Man cologne and dressed. Hesitating a moment, he tucked something cool and steely into the inner breast pocket of his hiking vest.

He poured hot water over a silk bag of tea leaves in a rose-painted cup. He then shook Pooky, under whose mouth was a small circle of damp pillowslip. ‘Pooky-doll, it's time.'

Pooky licked her lips and pulled the sheet over her head. ‘Aw, Curly. It's Sunday. Ten more … minutes …
and …' Her voice trailed off.

‘C'mon, Pooky. If we're gunna go blowin' up stuff, we've gotta make an early start. We don't want no people around.'

Pooky flipped back the sheet. Her eyes, encircled by smudged mascara, were glittering. ‘You mean, we're going to play with the jelly?'

Curly bent down and kissed the tip of his wife's nose. ‘I'll dig for a teensy bit longer, okay? If nuffin turns up, then yeah, Pooky-doll, we'll do it your way.'

Pollo, Will and Dan ducked under the rock shawl. The cave opened up before them, the surface of the lake as smooth as mercury.

‘Diamond Jack could probably swim,' announced Dan. ‘His hiding place for the strongbox is even better when you think that most people back then couldn't swim for nuts. I mean, I would have fitted right in. Then again, they could have had some kind of bridge, too. It wouldn't need to be a fancy one – just a couple of ropes to hold on to.'

Will clenched his jaw. ‘I still can't believe you can't swim,' he muttered. ‘You could've said something earlier, but no, you wait till we're halfway down the tunnel and you've finished telling us all about a giant albino eel that hangs out in an underground lake below Sydney.'

‘It's not my fault I can't swim! We never lived near water or had money to go to public pools. Anyway, no one's seen that eel for ages. It's probably a thing of the past.'

‘I wish you were a thing of –'

‘Excellent!' interrupted Pollo, shining her torch across the lake. ‘The strongbox is still there! No one's blown up anything yet. Give us the satchel, Will.' Will passed it over and she laid it on the firm damp ground at the lake's edge. Methodically, she removed the muesli bars and laid them on the ground.

‘What are you doing?' cried Will.

‘They'll just get wet otherwise,' she said. ‘Dan will look after them, won't you, Dan?'

Dan nodded, unable to keep the delight from his eyes. Pollo recognised the sound of Will counting to ten under his breath.

They switched off their torches, letting their eyes adjust. After a moment, they could just make out the murky light coming through the gap at the top of the rockslide from the tunnel on the other side that led to Mustang Rock.

‘There's a lot more light than you first think,' said Pollo. She was breathing a little more easily now.

‘If we had to, we could probably make our way out of
here without torches,' said Will.

‘You mean, if someone were to come along with some gelignite?' said Dan.

‘Well, yeah, Dan,' said Will. ‘That general kind of thing.'

‘Oh,' murmured Dan.

‘I have to keep reminding myself,' said Pollo, ‘that the strongbox might not have belonged to Diamond Jack. We won't know till we open it.'

‘We mightn't find out, even then,' said Will.

‘Well, what we do know,' said Pollo, ‘is that if Mayor Bullock gets to the strongbox first we'll never know what was in there.'

‘Likewise if Curly and Pooky blow it up,' muttered Will, ‘along with this whole cave and everything in it.'

‘All the more reason to hurry then, eh?' said Dan. He looked around nervously. ‘I've never saved something from being blown up before – we don't want to leave it too late!'

‘Dan's right,' said Pollo. She stripped down to her bathers and, grudgingly, Will did the same. He stood on the bank self-consciously, his white thighs almost glowing in the dark.

‘Look at it this way,' said Dan, ‘you'll be nice and cool after. Pollo was shivering for ages yesterday.'

‘Dan,' said Pollo, ‘perhaps it's best not to say anything for a bit. Could you give us some light, please?'

Dan switched on the strongest torch. Pollo and Will took one of Dan's rope coils and knotted one end tightly around a thick stalagmite. Gripping the rope, Pollo leaned back and tested her weight. The pillar of rock wasn't going anywhere. She attached the tool satchel to the other end, then wound the rope around her waist. She waded knee-deep into the lake, the satchel over her shoulder.

She launched herself with a gasp as the chill water clenched, then started swimming. Will waded after her. Several false starts later, he bellyflopped into the water and windmilled to the other side. He scrambled onto the bank where Pollo had already unwound the rope from her waist and was busy freeing the satchel.

Juddering with cold, they climbed the rockslide, Dan spotlighting them from the other bank. They reached the strongbox. The glaze of limestone locking it into place was smooth and cold.

Will ran his hand across it. ‘It's almost transparent – like pink shell.'

‘It's beautiful, isn't it?' said Pollo. She put on a thick glove and wedged the chisel into a divot, holding it firm in her gloved hand. ‘Almost too pretty to –' she brought
the hammer down, ‘– break.'

A judder ran through her hand and up her arm. But when she and Will looked, there wasn't so much as a crack in the glaze. They set to work with their chisels and hammers.

After five minutes of hammering, Will rubbed his forearm. They were getting nowhere fast. ‘It's tempting to give it a real bash, isn't it?'

‘
Never
do that, Will! We could damage the strongbox!'

‘Just saying, that's all,' said Will.

He moved his chisel to where the spill of limestone met the lid. He gave it a tap. It found a groove and locked into place. Will and Pollo looked at one another excitedly. Progress! Will tapped the chisel again … but it didn't budge. Another tap, this time heavier. Nothing. Three more taps, each a little stronger than the one before. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

He was about to try again when Pollo's hammer shot past his ear and hit Will's chisel with a mighty
thwack
! The blow resounded around the cavern. It was followed by a cracking sound as thin fissures spiderwebbed over the surface of the chest.

‘Sometimes my investigator's instinct just takes over,' said Pollo.

Dan called from the other side. ‘You're making a lot
of noise!' Dan was jigging from one foot to the other on the other side of the lake. ‘What if we don't hear Ash's danger signal?'

Pollo gave him an encouraging wave. ‘Relax, Dan. Our noise isn't constant. We'll hear Ash if she whistles.'

They set to, tapping their chisels across the glaze of limestone. But although they could see the cracks, they couldn't find a way to penetrate them. After five minutes their goosebumps had been replaced by sweaty mud.

‘Can you maybe tap a bit faster?' called Dan. ‘Those two and their gelignite are probably up and about by now. In fact, they're probably nearly here!'

‘Thanks, Dan,' called Will, wiping his forehead with his forearm. ‘You're being a big help.'

‘That's okay! No problem!' Dan swapped the torch to his other hand and flexed his arm. ‘This torch is getting a bit heavy though.'

Will breathed sharply and gritted his teeth. He gave the end of his chisel a far-bigger-than-before whack.

Cr-a-a-a-a-ck!
Along the junction of the box and the ledge was a long deep crack. Will wedged the end of the chisel into the fissure and struck. The crack widened even further. He grinned at Pollo. ‘We're in!'

Pollo rammed her chisel into the other end of the box.

‘Don't get carried away,' said Will. ‘We don't want to bring the whole cave down on –'

Clang-yang-yang-yang!
Limey sand showered from the ceiling as Pollo's hammer struck. Will and Pollo crouched and covered their heads, hoping it remained sand falling and nothing more.

Eventually the downpour stopped. They peeked through their fingers. Beneath them, the rock had fallen away like a nutshell. The strongbox sat revealed, everything intact, its timbers gritty but unsplintered, its iron bands and clasps still shiny in patches. A piece of the past with stories and secrets more than a century old sat right in front of them.

Will and Pollo beamed and punched fists.

‘Are you okay?' Dan was peeking from behind a rock, his arms still over his head.

‘We sure are!' called Pollo. ‘We'll be out of here and home by breakfast!'

She was about to get back to work when Will grabbed her arm. ‘Listen!' he whispered.

Too too too twee!

Will's eyes widened. ‘It's Ash!'

‘The danger signal!' whispered Pollo.

Dan began jumping up and down and waving his arms. Pollo signalled to reassure him they'd heard it too.

Too too too twee!

‘That's the third time now!' said Will.

Pollo and Will gripped the chest with their fingertips and jiggled it. The box moved a fraction but remained stuck fast.

‘I estimate we have about three minutes before they realise we're here,' said Pollo in a low voice. ‘But it'll take them longer than that to climb down.' She dug her chisel under the chest and began banging with her hammer.

‘We should get out of here now!' hissed Will. ‘What if you're wrong? Remember what Ash said – be careful, not brave! Remember they're planning to blow up this chest!'

‘Exactly!' Pollo stopped banging and looked at Will. ‘And we can't let that happen, can we?'

Lying on her stomach by the natural chimney atop Mustang Rock, Ash had two worries. One was the change in the bush inhabitants that told her someone was coming; the second was the banging noise echoing up the tunnel from deep below. She'd been whistling like a whole flock of Yellow-crested Pipebirds. Her mouth was dry and aching, she'd been blowing so long and hard. Why hadn't the others down there hushed? They mustn't be able to hear her.

She edged forward and parted the bushes gingerly. As she did, Curly and Pooky tramped into the clearing, dressed as they'd been the day before. Curly was carrying a spade and a black sports bag that looked plenty big enough for a detonator. They stopped in front of the cave. The musky trace of Curly's aftershave wafted up to Ash.

Ash was torn. Should she run across the gorge to Wallaby Cave and try to warn the others from there? But she'd never make it in time. No, better she stayed in position, bird-calling as long as she had spit left to do it. They'd have to pick up the warning sooner or later.

She leaned into the chimney opening into the cave and whistled.
Too too too twee!

Pooky and Curly began bickering about something – Ash heard the word ‘jelly' – and Pooky stamped her foot. But Ash couldn't make out much more with the clamour coming from below ground.

Now Curly was signalling Pooky to shoosh – he wanted to listen. He frowned and cocked his head. Now Curly was tiptoeing into the cave.

Ash tried to whistle again but her mouth was too dry. She grabbed a large stone. Pressing herself flat to the ground, she began banging on the cave roof. She hoped it would be enough for a decoy … but not so much as to give her away.

Curly came running back out. ‘There's some crazy banging going on, Pooky. Someone's down there,' he puffed. ‘But the tunnel's all locked up still. What loonies would lock themselves inside it?'

‘Loonies wanting to have the tunnel all to themselves,' snarled Pooky. From the black bag she
pulled out the key to the tunnel's metal grate. She swung it casually from her finger. ‘You don't think that oily old mayor would've given one of these to someone else, do you, Curly?' She licked her lips. ‘That he's playing us off against someone?'

Curly lifted his bushy eyebrows and smiled. ‘You think we might have ourselves a little competition, Pooky?'

Pooky grinned. ‘I can't wait to see their faces when they see that piece you're packing, Curly!'

His mouth twitching, Curly patted the revolver-shape bulging inside his hiking vest. He picked up the spade and handed it to Pooky. Hefting the heavy black bag onto his shoulder, he led the way into the cave. ‘If we're gunna skip town with Mayor Bullock's goodies, we'd better get busy, Pooky-doll.'