Authors: Catherine Jinks
Cadel looked away. He couldn’t bear to witness the inevitable moment when realisation dawned.
He didn’t dare raise his eyes again until Vadi gave a grunt and murmured, ‘Good job.’ This remark prompted Cadel to glance up – by which time Prosper had drawn his gun. Shell-shocked, the poor airstrip manager was standing with his hands in the air, stammering out answers to Prosper’s questions. From inside the car, Cadel couldn’t hear exactly what was being said.
He could, however, see Alias detaching a bunch of keys from the airstrip manager’s belt. Shortly afterwards, all three of them – Prosper, Alias and their unfortunate captive – began to move towards one of the large tin sheds. Upon reaching it, they stopped for a minute or two. (Cadel speculated that this delay was caused by a search for the right key, but couldn’t be certain because they were so far away.) Then Alias dragged open one big aluminium door, and vanished into the shed’s murky interior with his two companions.
‘Can you see?’ Cadel whispered to Sonja, who was slumped against him. When she managed a nod, he pressed her hand.
Behind the wheel, Vadi sighed. It was obvious that he didn’t like waiting. He kept consulting his watch, and nervously scanning the horizon. His muddy skin gleamed with perspiration; his breathing didn’t sound quite right.
It worried Cadel that someone so jittery should be holding an automatic pistol.
‘Is that safety catch on?’ he asked, and Vadi jumped in his seat.
‘What?’
‘Have you engaged the safety catch on your gun?’
‘No talking, please, sir.’
At that moment Alias appeared again, pushing open the second aluminium door to reveal the pale outline of a small plane inside the tin shed.
Then he beckoned to Vadi. But when Vadi tried to climb out of the hatchback, Alias shook his head, miming a steering-wheel.
‘You’re supposed to drive over,’ Cadel pointed out. He had to acknowledge that using the car to transport Sonja from one location to another was a good idea. And when Alias waved them straight into the hangar, Cadel realised that Prosper had been thinking strategically.
With the green car tucked well out of sight, there was no indication that Prosper had even arrived at the airfield. Not from a distance, anyway.
It was a smart move.
As Vadi switched off the engine, Cadel scanned his surroundings in amazement. He was impressed by the sheer size of the hangar, which was certainly large enough to accommodate both a car and a plane, with plenty of room to spare. In one of the vacant corners, Prosper stood with his gun trained on the airstrip manager, who was being forced to remove his clothes. Not far away, Alias was also undressing. Apparently he intended to disguise himself as the airstrip manager, despite the fact that he had left his make-up kit at Judith’s house.
Cadel was about to observe to Sonja that the moustache problem might prove to be insurmountable when something else caught his eye. Frowning, he peered more closely at the aeroplane. It was a neat little machine, as white as a cloud, with three wheels, one propeller, and a three-door cabin. Everything about it looked stylish; Cadel recalled that Judith had mentioned paying close to $100,000 for her ‘four-stroke Jabiru’, and this particular aircraft had the word ‘Jabiru’ painted on its tail.
But from what he could see, it contained only four seats.
‘That’s not ours, is it?’ he demanded of Vadi, who was now exiting the car. ‘Hey!
Hey!
’
Vadi, however, didn’t seem to hear. He pocketed his pistol and slammed the driver’s door shut behind him.
So Cadel pushed open his own door.
‘There are only four seats in that plane!’ he cried, scrambling out. To which Prosper replied, ‘Get back in the car.’
‘Who are you going to leave here?’
‘
Get back in the car
.’
When Cadel hesitated, reluctant to comply, Vadi grabbed his arm and tried to enforce Prosper’s request. Alias, meanwhile, had unstrapped his padding.
‘I’ll need some water,’ he suddenly announced. ‘I can’t do this without water. Or scissors, for cutting up the wig. And maybe some paste, or corrector fluid – ’
‘Where’s your bathroom?’ Prosper asked the airstrip manager. ‘Over in that office?’
The response was a wordless nod. Prosper then turned to Vadi, who was still struggling with Cadel.
‘You can’t leave Sonja here!’ Cadel exclaimed. ‘Not on her own! You
can’t
!’
‘Shh,’ said Prosper, before addressing Vadi. ‘I want you to check out that office. There’ll be water, and maybe duct tape or electric cables – something you can use on this one.’ He jerked his chin at the airstrip manager, whose horrified expression seemed to amuse him. ‘Not for torturing you, Eric, don’t worry. For tying you up. These great hawsers lying around here simply won’t do.’
‘You want Alias to go with me?’ said Vadi, seeking clarification. He now had Cadel in a headlock.
‘I want you to escort them both – Eric and Alias,’ Prosper explained. ‘Eric can help you with the keys. Can’t you, Eric?’
Another nod from the dazed airstrip manager. By now he wore only his boxer shorts; Alias had even taken his socks.
‘Meanwhile, I’ll prep the plane,’ Prosper continued. ‘
And
keep an eye on my son here. Are you sure this is the right key, Eric?’ Holding aloft a rather ordinary-looking ignition key, Prosper subtly adjusted the position of his gun until its barrel was pointing straight at Eric’s heart. ‘You wouldn’t be mucking me about, would you?’
‘Of course not!’ Eric quavered. ‘It’s the spare! She left it herself!’
‘Good,’ said Prosper, returning the key to his pocket. ‘Then off you go with Vadi. That’s it. Don’t dawdle. We haven’t got all day.’
With a shrug, Vadi released Cadel and used his gun to shepherd Eric out of the building. Alias trailed behind them, clutching his wig in one hand and Eric’s keys in the other.
Cadel rubbed his bruised throat, trying not to cough. He felt Prosper’s hand on the back of his neck.
‘Now,’ Prosper said, ‘Let’s see how big this plane is, shall we?’
He yanked at Cadel’s collar with such force that Cadel almost tripped, and had difficulty staying upright as he was hauled towards Judith’s aeroplane. ‘Wait – please!’ Cadel gasped. ‘We have to talk about – ow!’ Prosper had relinquished his turtleneck, only to grab his ponytail instead. The pain was excruciating. ‘Ow – ow – ’
‘So sorry, dear boy.’ There wasn’t, however, a trace of regret in Prosper’s languid delivery. ‘I have to put this gun away, and I know how tricky you can be, if given half the chance.’
Cadel’s eyes were so full of tears that he could hardly see what was going on. But he assumed that Prosper was trying to get into Judith’s aeroplane. And he was right; before long the tight grip on his hair relaxed, as he was bundled through a cabin door and pushed into a very comfortable upholstered seat. The smell of new carpet and old exhaust fumes made him feel nauseous.
Or perhaps he was just sick with fear.
‘Listen,’ he gabbled, ‘you can leave her here as long as you tell someone where she is.’
‘Oh I can, can I?’ Prosper’s tone was absentminded. He was surveying the instrument panel. ‘Nice to have your permission, I’m sure.’
‘Please.
Please
.’ Cadel’s voice cracked. ‘If you call someone about Sonja, I promise I’ll be good. I
swear
I will. I’ll do everything you say.’ Hearing Prosper snort, he leaned forward, fists clenched. ‘I mean it,’ he pleaded. ‘This isn’t a trick. Please believe me, I’m telling the truth. Word of honour.’
‘
Word of honour?
’ At last Prosper’s interest was piqued. He turned away from the instrument panel and fixed Cadel with a bright, steely, penetrating look. ‘What are you talking about? You wouldn’t know what that means.’
‘Yes I would! I’m different now! I keep my promises!’ When Cadel saw Prosper’s face harden, he realised that this wasn’t a piece of information likely to please someone who had once been involved in founding a University of Evil. So he did something he’d never, ever thought he could bring himself to do.
He swallowed and said, ‘Please, Dad. I’m begging you. I won’t cause you any more trouble for the rest of my
life
, if you just do this one thing.’
Prosper frowned. Deep within him, some kind of seismic disturbance caused his features to shift like a subsiding wall. There was a hint of irresolution in the set of his mouth; a puzzled look in his eyes.
Before he could utter a word, however, he was distracted by a distant growl.
It was the growl of an approaching car.
‘Shit,’ he said.
For one instant, he and Cadel stared at each other. Then Prosper sighed.
‘You’re not going to keep quiet, are you?’ he muttered. Before Cadel could think of a response, Prosper was looming above him, poised to pounce.
There followed a short, sharp scuffle.
Pulled from his seat and thrust towards the rear of the cabin, Cadel found himself faced with a closed hatch in an upholstered bulkhead. ‘No!’ he cried, instantly comprehending. ‘No!
No!
’ And he lashed out wildly, having no wish to be locked in the baggage compartment.
But Prosper had the advantage over him in height, weight and reach. Within seconds the open hatch gaped before them; though Cadel planted his feet against its rim, Prosper simply knocked them aside with his own foot, while his hands were engaged in gagging Cadel and pinning down his arms.
‘It won’t be for long,’ Prosper gasped. ‘You’re not going to suffocate.’
‘N-n-n-h!’
‘It’s really very roomy – look.’ With a full-body heave, he shoved Cadel into a long, dark hole. ‘I’ll be back soon.’
‘
No!
’
The hatch slammed shut, leaving Cadel in total darkness. ‘Now don’t make a fuss,’ said Prosper, his voice muffled by the intervening bulkhead, ‘because no one’s going to hear. Just sit tight and be good. I won’t leave without you.’
‘
Wait!
’ Cadel punched at the hatch, which wouldn’t open. It didn’t seem to have a handle on the inside. ‘
Don’t! Come back, please!
’
There was no answer.
‘
Don’t leave me in here!
’ Cadel screeched, kicking and pounding. He threw himself against the bulkhead. He bounced from one end of the compartment to the other, casting about for another exit. But he was completely enclosed in a narrow, upholstered drum. He couldn’t even stand up straight; he had to crawl around on his hands and knees.
‘Okay. Okay.’
Stay calm
, he thought. It was already hot, and he had no idea how well ventilated this stowage locker might be. Panicking wouldn’t help. Throwing a fit wouldn’t help. If he screamed too much he would lose his voice. If he kept blundering about, he would hurt himself.
So he wrenched off one shoe and began to hit the floor with it, rhythmically.
Bang-bang-bang. Bang-bang-bang
. Physical activity of this kind helped him to keep his fear in check. He was so desperately afraid – for Sonja, for himself, for the newcomers in the approaching car – that he couldn’t concentrate. Little surges of hysteria kept making his heart race and his hands tremble.
A sob escaped him, followed by another.
He clenched his teeth.
No
, he thought.
Don’t let it get to you. Don’t, don’t, don’t
.
He tried to ignore the fact that he was trapped in a small, confined space. He tried to stop gulping down air so frantically, because the noise of his panting made it hard to hear what was going on outside. Not that he had the slightest chance of hearing much anyway, through the layers of bulkhead and padding – not unless someone came really close to the plane, and raised their voice. If that happened, then his banging might become audible to the newcomers, whoever they might be.
Bang-bang-bang!
Cadel drummed on the floor with all his might, before it suddenly occurred to him that he was being overly optimistic. There was very little chance that anybody
would
approach the aeroplane – not if Alias was successful. Providing that his disguise was good enough, Alias might be able to convince the new arrivals that he really was Eric the airstrip manager, and send them away – especially if they weren’t the police. And if they were, they might believe his claim that no one else had approached the airfield that morning.
Of course, even Alias wouldn’t persuade the police to leave. That much was certain. They would want to stay, no matter what they were told, just in case Prosper should appear. For that reason, too, they would probably evacuate Alias. And if he had any sense, Alias would immediately take off in Eric’s car, before anyone saw who was lurking in the office.
Cadel groaned. The entire scene had flashed into his head: Alias vanishing down the road; the police lulled into a false sense of security; one policeman heading for the office, and carelessly opening the door . . .
What if that policeman turned out to be Saul Greeniaus?
‘Don’t panic,’ Cadel told himself, his ears cocked for the rattle of gunfire. ‘Keep calm. It might not happen.’ The police might not have arrived. Or if they had arrived, Vadi might have escaped already, by climbing out of a window during Alias’s chat with them. In which case Prosper would surely have followed Vadi’s example, and slipped away quietly, instead of firing at the police from behind the hangar door.
Unless, of course, only a couple of police officers had shown up. Faced with such a modest force, Prosper might choose to risk a shoot-out for the sake of stealing Judith’s plane . . .
Cadel didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to calculate probabilities. He could hardly control his breathing, let alone the direction of his thoughts.
Then he heard a dull
crack
from somewhere outside.
At first he held his breath. He listened hard, his ear pressed against the bulkhead. But when nothing else reached him, he couldn’t contain himself. He beat his fists against the floor, screaming.
‘
Help! Help! I’m here! Let me out!
’
It was a crazy thing to do. All he gained from it was a pair of sore hands. As he fell back onto his haunches, however, dejected and defeated, he noticed a slight tremor in the fabric of the aeroplane, which had responded to his shifting weight. And he realised that, since it wasn’t a big machine, the impact of something heavy might rock or shake it a little.