Game Play (4 page)

Chapter 7

‘What tip-off?' he repeated.

Tom Savvas turned and looked at him. It was a bit difficult not to notice Mr Muscles' muscles. ‘About steroids. Thought to be on this flight. Know much about them, do you?'

Christopher looked quickly from face to face. Should Tom Savvas have given away that information about the tip off? Why did he tell Mr Muscles? Was he just researching for his story? Or was he warning him? Previously Tom Savvas' voice was very soft. Why had he spoken so loudly when talking about the steroids tip off? Others in the queues nearby could hear, too. In between fussing with their jewellery, Mrs Silver and Mrs Gold might have heard. The priest was close, too. And the soccer player was just standing nearby, watching the customs queue.

‘I know a bit. Steroids are legal in other countries,' Mr Muscles said to Tom. ‘And before that law was passed in ‘91, it was okay here too. Some elite athletes like to build up their muscles quickly. They like to look good. What's wrong with that?'

Tom Savvas looked at Mr Muscles' muscles.' I can understand how you feel, but there are special dangers.'

‘What kind of dangers?' Mr Muscles' face turned reddy-purple as he became cross. His whole body seemed to swell with anger. ‘That's rubbish! Athletes should be able to make their own decisions about their own bodies. Governments have too much say in how we run our lives.

Too many rules and regulations. They shouldn't run our sport, too. Athletes aren't ‘jocks' with no brains. They can decide for themselves.' Tom Savvas nodded.

‘But only if they know ALL the facts. Some crooks have been passing off steroids meant for animals and selling them to humans. That's illegal and dangerous because they don't know what the effects might be.'

‘If athletes are stupid enough not to check, then it's their own fault.' Mr Muscles walked away, his track pants tight, like a second skin over his leg muscles. He moved like a well trained racing animal.

Tom flicked off his tape. ‘Got all that.'

‘Why did you record him?' Christopher was fascinated.

‘Might be useful later. Now, Gloria seemed to think that you twins could help. Smugglers don't take as much notice of kids hanging around. But they do notice an adult alone. Especially a journalist or a customs officer.'

‘How do we know what the smuggler will do?' As Christopher was thinking, he pushed back his glasses.

‘He, she or they will have to get the steroids through Customs and out of the airport. It's possible that the steroids will be passed to a contact outside, in the Customs Hall. That's where the visitors wait for passengers to arrive.

‘Aunty Viv won't be here for hours. We can look around,' offered

Amy. Sleuthing at airports was fun.

‘Of course, the parcel might be dumped somewhere for the contact to collect later.'

‘Like the luggage lockers outside?' suggested Amy. Most airports had banks of lockers. Travellers paid to leave bags locked inside. It saved carrying heavy luggage while looking around a new place. No-one checked what went into the lockers, as long as you paid for the key.

‘Good thinking. But then there'd be a key which would have to be left somewhere, too.'

‘Would the smugglers know each other by sight?'

‘Maybe. But maybe they have to identify themselves in some way.'

Amy laughed. ‘They're not going to stand in the Customs Hall with a label saying CONTACT FOR ILLEGAL STEROID SMUGGLER!'

‘Easy to draw THAT.' Christopher smiled. ‘Just joking!'

‘Why not design a FOR SALE sign,' joked Amy. ‘Or a JOURNALIST IN NEED OF STORY' sign?'

Still smiling, Tom explained about the newspaper deadline for his story. ‘I can send it through .' He tapped his black laptop bag.' But we need the facts in the next two hours if possible.'

That fitted the E.T.A. (Estimated Time of Arrival) of Aunty Viv and the Animal Actors van. So the twins offered to help, as long as the airline minder would let them.

‘The queue' s moving now. Let's go. But keep your eyes and ears open.'

The soccer player turned away. He'd been listening all the time.

Chapter 8

A blank dark glass window faced them. It acted like a mirror.

Christopher could see himself, but at the same time, he wondered who was watching him. A one way mirror seemed unfair, even if you weren't doing anything wrong. He turned. There was only one traveller in front of them now. Then the Customs officers.

‘We knew these International Games in Cairns were likely to attract smugglers. But Gloria was not sure how they'll smuggle in the steroids. Unaccompanied baggage is one way.'

‘That's bags without owners.' said Amy. ‘We saw a couple of bags left on the carousel. And there's another one over there.'

She pointed to the table marked BAGGAGE. Amy twisted her head sideways and tried to read the typewritten baggage label.

‘MR SMITH. CAIRNS That doesn't tell us much.'

‘Customs and Quarantine always check those left on the carousel,' added Christopher.

Tom nodded. ‘And so did I. Then the sniffer dog checked them. Nothing suspicions about those bags. Just mis-directed. One was labelled Adelaide.'

Amy imagined someone in Adelaide with no clothes on. And no toothbrush or pyjamas! Or what if the wrong person got the wrong bag with the wrong clothes inside? Amy imagined some unusual mismatches.

Like Dad in baby clothes. Or Aunty Viv with colourful high fashion model stuff. Amy giggled. But Aunty Viv couldn't EVER lose her plane luggage. She was too scared to fly anywhere. Although she could get lost on the ground quite easily. Somewhere near Cairns.

‘Mum says that some baggage has a mind of its own. Once Dad's camera bag went to India instead of Indonesia,' Christopher remembered. ‘And Mum's bag went from Melbourne to Hong Kong, via London. She reckons there's a special sky port full of lost luggage. And some of it is ours. Especially the stuff with broken wheels.'

Amy decided it was time for the frequent flyer sleuths to get back to the job of finding the smuggler or smugglers.

‘Do steroids all come in on planes?' asked Amy.

‘No. Sometimes they're hidden in ships' cargoes. Sometimes they're posted in the mail. Other times passengers smuggle them in.

Gloria's tip-off today is reliable. Steroids are coming in on this flight.

They're in the airport now. We just have to find them.'

‘Who gave the tip-off?' asked Amy.

‘Gloria's sources.' Tom put a hand to his mouth. ‘Secret.'

Amy and Christopher looked at the VERY slowly moving queue to the GREEN and to the RED customs channels. They'd moved forward one space in the last ten minutes. The only fast Customs line was the one reserved for the crew. Air crew in uniforms went through quickly.

‘Crew are checked, too, aren't they?'

‘Yes. But the tip-off said a smuggling passenger, not crew.'

‘A passenger or passengers?' Christopher had been listening.

Surprised, Tom looked up. ‘I missed that. Yes. She said ‘passenger' so it would be only one smuggler.'

‘But there still could be others.' Amy fiddled with her purple and aqua backpack. Edwina wanted to move, too.

Tom flipped through his notebook. Amy noticed that he also had a second, tiny tape recorder in his top pocket.

Just then, Mr Muscles strolled across. He left his bags to keep his place in the line. His face still looked red. But everybody was hot and tired by now. Travelling was like work for some people except for the Islander baby in the brightly patterned top whose mother was humming to her. That baby had more hair than Mr Muscles.

Instantly Tom's hand went to his top pocket. Something clicked.

‘Here,' Mr Muscles gave Amy the rolled up newspaper. ‘You wanted to have a read. It will pass the time. Give it to me outside.'

The Green queue in which Mr Muscles was standing, started to move now. ‘I must get back in line.'

‘Thanks. But no thanks.' Amy gave the newspaper back to Mr Muscles. She'd read a lot on the plane. She didn't feel like reading in the queue. She'd rather people-watch. Besides, Mum said NEVER carry anything through Customs for someone else. They might be using you to smuggle goods.

Meanwhile, the soccer team lined up in the Customs Hall.

Christopher watched the guy with the different socks and the plain navy track suit. Most of the team were joking and laughing. He seemed to be quiet and out of the fun. None of the others was joking with him.

‘Perhaps he's just shy,' suggested Amy looking in the same direction.

‘His case is pretty heavy. Look how he moves it,' Christopher said as the soccer player bent over. ‘It's soft-sided, too.'

Just then, Gloria walked past. She was wearing a walkie talkie and talking in it. She seemed to be heading for the soccer team.

Chapter 9

Gloria spotted them. She finished speaking on her walkie-talkie and came over.

‘Caught anyone yet, Gloria?' Christopher whispered eagerly.

‘We're close. This time we think the steroids will be repackaged. Steroids can be used for animals, quite legally. But it's illegal to use animals steroids with humans. Some of the thieves ‘repackage' animals steroids to look like imported high quality drugs. That's what we're looking for now. False packaging. Or something being worn.'

‘Worn?' echoed Christopher. Immediately, he thought of the mobile bling of Mrs Gold and Mrs Silver. But you couldn't hide drugs in bling. Or could you?

‘How do you know which steroids are fakes?' Amy asked Gloria.

‘Look at this label.' Gloria pulled a container from her pocket and pointed. ‘See?'

Amy pushed back her glasses and peered at the label. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be looking for. The writing wasn't in English. It's German, isn't it?'

Once the twins had met their parents at Frankfurt Airport. But they couldn't speak German. Amy remembered Frankfurt because it was a sausage. So was Hamburg, another place in Germany. But McDonalds hamburgers didn't start there.

‘Someone made a mistake.' smiled Gloria. They could tell she was really pleased.

‘Why? Should it have been in another language?' asked Christopher.

Gloria smiled. ‘No. Some of the highest quality steroids come from Germany. It's legal there. That's why the smugglers put German instructions on the label. Only problem was, they didn't spell it right.

That's why I knew.'

‘Can you speak German?' Amy could speak English, Chinese and a little bit of French. So could Christopher, if he tried. For each new country they visited, Dad bought them a phrase book. He made them learn ‘Hello', ‘Goodbye' and ‘Thank you' in the language. Amy usually learned ‘How much does this cost?' as well.

They also had to learn the numbers up to ten. That was so they'd get to the right platform or gate numbers. But at airports, officials usually spoke English.

‘I can read German, but my accent isn't too good.' Gloria checked something in her notebook.

Amy understood the difference. When she tried to speak Mandarin with some of Mum's relatives, they just looked at her. But she could understand them if they spoke slowly.

‘This time it was easy. The counterfeiters couldn't spell. They made a spelling mistake when they printed the labels in German.'

Christopher looked at the label carefully. He didn't read German either but he was thinking deeply. ‘The ink is very light.' He opened the container.

There was nothing inside!

Gloria smiled. ‘They looked just like pills. They've been kept as evidence.'

‘Are we looking for bottles like this?' Tom turned the container around.

‘Possibly. But some are fairly heavy. Some ampoules are packed in soft sided suitcases.'

Christpher looked across as the shy soccer player. His case had soft sides. And he was standing in the green line. That meant he had nothing to declare. Was that true?

The man's eyes caught his. The soccer player looked at Gloria's uniform. He looked at her walkie talkie and her ID badge. Christopher could see that he was worried. He looked at Christopher's sketch pad and his moving pencil.

He grabbed his case and started to walk away quickly.