False Bottom (7 page)

Chapter 14

‘Excuse me.' Christopher tried to attract the officer's attention.

‘Aaaahhhh.' Rainbow Wig fainted, loudly. She slid onto the floor. Her legs stuck out. Her head went back. People raced towards her. Everybody looked in her direction, except Christopher. The moving hat had all his attention.

Christopher moved quickly. As he grabbed the hat ,a thin, bony hand landed on top of his.

‘I'll take that. It's my hat.' Ms Glasses picked up the hat and put it on her head.

‘Er, could I?' Christopher looked around wildly for help. Everybody else was gathered around Rainbow Wig . She was waking up, very noisily.

‘Amy,' hissed Christopher. The woman hurried away now her luggage had been passed. ‘That hat did move.'

Amy looked after Ms Glasses rapidly moving figure. ‘Of course, and she's moving now ,too.'

‘That's not what I meant. When the hat was on the shelf, it moved by itself.'

‘You're imagining things. Security has already searched her luggage.'

‘But they didn't check her hat. She left it on the shelf, on purpose!'

Christopher was getting worked up. ‘I'm going after her. I want to get a closer look at that hat.'

‘But how will you get her to take it off?'

‘I'll think of something.'

Christopher trotted down the passageway. How could he make Ms Glasses take off her hat?

Ms Glasses stopped quickly. She turned around. ‘Are you chasing me?' Behind the dark glasses, her eyes were difficult to see. She was breathing heavily.

‘Er,yes.'

‘What for?'

‘To give you something you dropped.'

Christopher held up a feather. He'd picked it off the carpet earlier when the birds had been flying around.

‘This fell off your hat. Well, it might have. ‘

Ms Glasses went white. She took the feather. ‘Thanks.'

‘It must have come off the hatband,' suggested Christopher helpfully. ‘I'll put it back on for you, If you give me the hat.'

Christopher had been vainly thinking for an excuse. And it was true that some hats have a feather in the band.

‘Off you go.'

How could he get the hat? Christopher couldn't think of anything else to do. He pulled out his pencil and his second sketch book.

‘Excuse me for asking but I like drawing people. Would you be a model for me?'

‘No.' Ms Glasses's hand went protectively towards her hat. ‘I'm in a hurry.' She left quickly with her bunched bags of hand luggage.

What else could Christopher do? He looked around.

Amy said.'Here's a dollar for a trolley. Chase her.Pretend to bump into her with it. I'll try to knock the hat off.'

The trolleys were jammed together in a line.It took a dollar in the slot to release one.

‘Are you sure this is going to work? Why don't you just tell Gloria what you suspect?'

‘Because it's my mystery!' said Christopher. ‘Ready?'

Amy put their backpacks on the trolley. The wheels went crooked, just like a supermarket trolley.

‘You need a driving licence for this! Or learner plates!'

‘P plates for passenger. Get moving, Amy, or she'll get away.'

Christopher was worried that Ms Glasses might vanish into one of the women's toilets along the passageway. He couldn't follow her then. And Amy would have an unfair advantage. Why weren't there more male smugglers? Perhaps there were, and he hadn't noticed them yet.

Christopher jogged and pushed. Amy hadn't seen him so uptight since Wilhelmina ate his birthday cake.

‘What's in the hat? Is she the bank robber?'

‘Don't be stupid. A bank robber would have bags of notes to hide. Couldn't do that in a hat.'

‘What about a cheque? That would fit around the hat.'

Christopher was getting cross about wasting time.

‘The hat moved! There's got to be something live in there.'

‘An animal?'

‘Maybe. Or a bird.'

‘So you think she's another bird smuggler.'

‘Yes, that's why we've got to hurry.' Christopher dragged at the trolley. ‘Race after her.'

The trolley squeaked. Amy pushed. Christopher pulled. It went the other way. A fat lady stopped in front of them. Amy didn't stop in time. She pulled hard on the trolley and the bags slipped off.

Crash!

The fat lady fell backwards and landed on her bottom.

‘Sorry.' Amy said, as she helped her up.

‘Come on!'

Christopher piled on the bags. They were off again. Ms Glasses was scurrying ahead of them. Christopher put on a spurt. The trolley rammed into Ms Glasses' heels. For a second, Amy felt bad as Ms Glasses hopped on one foot, trying to hold her sore heel. Amy knew how she felt.

‘You stupid girl! What have you done?'

Then Christopher bumped his trolley into her, on purpose. Ms Glasses dropped one of her bags.

Christopher pretended to slip, with his arm outstretched. He just touched the hat with his fingers wide open. He flung out his arm again. This time, he knocked the hat off.

Cheep! Cheep! Cheep! said something inside the hat.

And the hat started to move across the carpet!

Gloria arrived, panting. She acted immediately.

‘Come this way, madam.' She took Ms Glasses by the arm. This time, Ms Glasses had no choice. Quarantine and customs people examined the hat which had a false lining.

Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!

Small calico bags were sewn on the inside of the hat.

Cheep! Cheep! Cheep! The hat moved again. It was waking up! Or the birds inside the calico bags were waking up.

‘Six, seven, eight finches,' said Gloria with satisfaction. ‘Prize finches. Worth thousands each. And one less bird smuggler.'

‘Will the birds be all right?'

‘They will now. Part of the twenty percent which survive.'

‘Did she have anything else illegal in her jacket pockets?'

‘Not this time. Ms Glasses as you call her, is a regular courier. Her passport has been well used. And that's probably not her only one.'

‘Do smugglers use false passports?'

‘Sometimes. Especially if they're travelling a lot. We suspect certain types of people coming from certain places.'

‘Maybe that's why she was wearing glasses to look different?'

Christopher knew he looked different without his John Lennons.

‘We look for something out of place. A business suit coming from a holiday place like Bali. Or a student backpacker carrying a lot of money. Sometimes the person has a good reason, if so, that's fine.'

The twins were feeling like international sleuths.'What about Rainbow Wig, back in the customs hall? Do you think they were working together?' Amy had been watching carefully. ‘Her hair was a wig. And she was making a lot of fuss, on purpose.'

‘We noticed. But the dogs checked her. Our people have looked closely, too. She wasn't carrying anything illegal. And she hasn't done anything wrong. Fainting isn't a crime. ‘

‘Even fainting that loudly?'

‘When a traveller faints in the customs hall, we move fast.'

‘That's kind of you.'

‘Well, it could be a smuggler carrying something too heavy.'

‘Like what?'

‘Recently a traveller had so many gold chains around his neck that he fainted from the weight. And a woman had twelve kilograms of gold strapped to her upper body.

‘Was the gold illegal?'

‘She hadn't declared it.'

Amy was still thinking. ‘Could Rainbow Wig have been a smuggling partner? Was it her job just to get attention?'

‘Maybe. She's booked on to Singapore. Perhaps you should keep an eye on her for us, during the flight. Okay? ‘

The twins grinned. ‘You mean we'd be undercover sleuths?'

Christopher was thrilled. ‘I look at people to draw them anyway. Sleuthing will be an extra reason for being a people-watcher.'

Gloria looked at the twins. ‘There's no doubt about you two. The score is one bird smuggler each caught by your efforts. I think you deserve a treat. How about a hot chocolate while you're waiting for your flight call? I'll pay. Maybe I can convince you to work for me on a casual basis.'

‘Ace,' said the twins together.

Minutes later, they were sitting in a coffee lounge in the domestic flight area. They were looking through Christopher's other sketches. Ms Glasses and the birds had been taken away by the airport security people.

‘Best hot chocolate is here,' said Gloria as she finished hers. Some froth stuck to her lip. She wiped it away.'You're pretty good at sketching people, Christopher. Could I borrow these ones?'

Christopher noticed that she took his sketches of Ms Glasses, The Mouth and Rainbow Wig. She also looked closely at Mrs Smart and the intergalactic wheelchair Christopher created.

‘D'you like drawing machines too?'

Christopher nodded. ‘That man told me about the INS system.I'd love to have a look at that. I drew one on this intergalactic wheelchair.'

Gloria looked closely. ‘Planes are tricky.With computerised navigation , a plane could go off course without the navigator or the pilot realising. That's why passengers are not allowed to use personal phones, games or laptops on board during take-off or landing,' she said.

‘Mrs Smart had a mobile phone in her wheelchair,' Amy was feeling left out. She was proud of her brother's drawing, But she didn't want to talk about it all the time. Not when they could be finding out how undercover Gloria worked.

Chapter 15

A baby at the next table gurgled loudly.

‘Hi. He's behaving himself.' Amy said to the mother of the baby in the pusher.She was feeding him fruit salady mush. The pusher was blue, the baby's outfit was blue and the bib said ‘I'm A Boy ‘, so sleuth Amy guessed she was right about that!

The mother looked hassled.

‘We came on the mystery flight and I didn't have time to feed him.'

Amy nodded politely. Was it worth paying $50 to fly from Sydney so you could feed the baby in a Melbourne cafe? But perhaps people had mysterious reasons for taking mystery flights.

‘Was there a woman in a wheelchair on your flight? With lizard stickers on the wheelchair,and bird ear rings on her?'

The woman nodded. ‘Yes. Wheelchairs and babies go on first and get off last.

So I sat next to her. She told me about her accident. We were given the last two tickets but we got on first. Famous people get on early, too. They avoid their fans that way. So I saw a TV star as well.'

‘Was it The Mouth?' asked Christopher quickly.

‘Of course not ,idiot. He was on our flight.'

‘It could have been his double. Or his twin.' Christopher went on.

‘And you say I've got myster-i-tus. It must be infectious.'

Gloria didn't understand what they were talking about, so Amy changed the subject.

‘Are you allowed to tell us about your job, Gloria?'

‘Depends what you want to know.'

At that moment, Gloria's two way radio beeped. She answered it.

‘Sorry, guys. Be back in a few minutes. Problem with a stretcher coming off a flight. Wait for me.'

Christopher turned.'Trouble with you Amy, is that you've got mysteritus. You see mysteries everywhere. I bet that old Mrs Smart is just a nice old gran. Maybe she got her planes mixed up. Perhaps she was going home, and caught the flight to Melbourne instead?

‘Planes aren't like local buses. They fly thousands of kilometres,not just a few bus stops. You get checked on and off. Staff look at your seat numbers,or haven't you noticed? Besides, she said she lived in Sydney.' Amy said. She was determined to find out. Mrs Smart and her son were Amy's suspects.

At that moment, a person who could answer some of her questions sat at the next table. From his uniform, Amy could tell he worked at the airport.

As he thoughtfully spooned sugar into his chocolate, Amy started

Campaign Wheelchair. She wanted to know more about wheelchairs, just in case. Anyway, asking questions was one of her hobbies.

‘Hi, great chocolate here,' said Amy cheerfully. ‘D'you work here? ‘

‘I'm a lounge porter.'

‘Do you push wheelchairs?'

He nodded.'About thirty wheelchair passengers a day especially in peak times. Some of the oldies like a wheelchair if their gate is a long way down.' The porter had one sip of his chocolate.

‘How do you know if someone on board needs a wheelchair?'

The porter tapped his two way radio. ‘ The captain radios ahead for a wheelchair to be at arrival gate.'

‘So you'd know if a particular passenger was on board and would need a wheelchair?'

The porter nodded. ‘Sometimes people use their own chairs. These are fork lifted on. Or wheeled on early and folded. Others are like the little baby over there. First on and last off.'

‘I saw a lady in a wheelchair in Sydney. She flew to Melbourne on a mystery flight , I think. So she wouldn't be using the same wheelchair she had in Sydney?'

‘No. Unless she was very disabled or it was a very special chair. Anyway mystery flight passengers don't know where they're going until the last minutes. They fill up the empty seats.'

Christopher interrupted. ‘She seemed to move quite easily.'

‘Her chair in Sydney had a squeak.'

‘Probably the wheels needed oiling,' said the porter.

‘I thought she might have been a bird smuggler.'

‘You've got birds on the brain!' muttered Christopher.

The porter laughed. ‘Customs and immigration catch a few of them. Cruel ,really, the way they drug those birds. They've just caught a couple more today.'

‘We know. We were there. We've been learning about what happens.' said Christopher.

The porter looked interested. ‘Oh, were you the UMs that helped? I heard about that. News gets around the airport fast.'

The twins nodded.

‘They don't smuggle only birds, you know. Sometimes it's snakes, or eggs or lizards. Quarantine look after them because they've broken the laws by trying to move birds illegally out of the country.'

‘What about other sorts of animals?'

‘What kind?' The porter finished drinking his chocolate.

‘Suppose you had a pet dog. Could you take that on the plane, if you told the people in charge?'

Amy didn't mention the name Bozo. That was a famous dog.

The porter shook his head. ‘Pets have to go into quarantine for a few months so they don't spread disease in Australia or to another country. That's for overseas flights. Domestic, flights between cities in Australia is okay. Pets go in special containers. Fragile freight.'

‘Fair enough,' said Christopher. ‘Our Aunty Viv has lots of animals working as actors in her Animal Actors business.'

‘Does she fly overseas?' asked the porter.

‘Aunty Viv doesn't fly anywhere if she can help it.'

‘Do her animals need to go overseas?'

Amy shook her head.

‘With racehorses, often they have a special plane,' said the porter. ‘Does she have any racehorses?'

Laughing, the twins said, ‘No. She'd never fit them in the van.

And they wouldn't sit at the No Standing zone. Too nervous.'

Gloria re-appeared. It was time to go back to the transit lounge.

‘What about mobile phones?' Christopher asked as they walked past a business man using his phone.

‘Not allowed in the arrival hall. Otherwise drug couriers warn their mates about baggage searches. Can't use them on board,' explained Gloria. ‘Sometimes they interfere with the plane's sensitive instruments. The pilot and navigator might not realise because most of the instruments are computerised.'

‘Are battery-powered wheelchairs allowed?'

‘ Yes. Security wands them down. We move them very quickly through customs. And the people assisting them. They're called assists'.

Perhaps that's how Mrs Smart got the navy security uniform past customs for her son, the bank robber, thought Amy. But she didn't say it aloud. Christopher would say she had mysteritus again.

Gloria left them in the transit lounge.

‘Listen for any announcements,' she said.

Christopher started sketching the banned goods on display. Amy people-watched.

A few minutes later, Mrs Smart rolled past in her wheelchair, pushed by her bearded son.

Amy looked up in astonishment. ‘It's her! Let's follow them!'

‘Go on the walkway,' yelled Christopher.

Amy ran along the moving belt. Her legs felt funny. The belt was moving and so was she. She started to jog. She touched the moving handrail to keep her balance. On either side of the walkway, people were moving, in slow motion. She was on fast-forward. Her legs went faster and faster. Left for standing. Right for walking. She jogged up the middle. She passed the man with the blue bag. She was getting faster. She looked up ahead. Mrs Smart in the wheelchair was nearly at a gateway lounge.

The moving walkway stopped outside the gateway. Then it was just blue carpet. Amy took one more step. Her other leg followed, by itself, without her even thinking. ‘Made it!' The floor didn't move anymore. Her legs felt wobbly. It was strange, but not like pins and needles. Christopher was somewhere behind her.

She felt as if she'd been running for hours in a marathon race. Passengers walked past her, knowing exactly where to go. Each door was labelled, but Amy wasn't sure where to go next.

Mrs Smart had vanished, again!