Grand Slam (30 page)

I'd noticed, when I'd climbed the outside of Mrs Booth's house, that Ruth's old bedroom window had been slightly open. I wondered if I'd dare actually break in and snoop around. I wondered if Andrew would come with me. No, he'd cuff me and take me to Jack's. Not that I minded the idea of that. Although at six on Thursday morning, it was Andrew's overnight replacement who was parked out the front, and he might not know he was supposed to stop me from doing stupid things. But Mrs Booth would be tucked up in bed anyway, not away from the house. Or she'd be in the kitchen making cups of tea. Mind you, if she was in the kitchen, I could still climb the trellis and sneak past. God, I'm an idiot.

I showered and went into the kitchen, yawning, and Mum put the kettle on.

‘What did you do last night, dear? You were late home again.'

Illegally boarded a boat where I found the fake charm that was nicked at the charity-lunch heist. ‘I had dinner with Emilio.'

‘Well, he's a very good tennis player, so I suppose . . .'

Suppose what? Suppose it's okay to have dinner with a foreign man if he's a good tennis player? ‘I work for Emilio, remember.'

‘I suppose.'

I put some bread in the toaster. ‘Do you watch the tennis, Mum?'

‘Oh, yes, your father and I enjoy it.'

‘Sorry I haven't organised tickets for you.'

‘That's all right, dear. You're busy, I know.'

Wow. Mum was being nice.

‘Besides, Charlotte's invited me to tomorrow's match. She has tickets from work.'

Bitch. (Not Mum.)

‘Well, would you like to go to the finals?'

‘I think Charlotte has finals tickets for us.'

I stood straighter. ‘What? She can't!'

Mum shrugged. ‘That's what she said.' Mum took her cup of tea and the
Herald Sun
into the lounge room, and I went out the back and stood on the bottom railing of the fence, gazing into Mrs Booth's house. Axle climbed the fence and stood next to me on the top railing. He told me that if I didn't stop obsessing and get to work, he'd tell my mother. I went inside and buttered my cold toast.

By the time I was ready to go, Andrew was back on board. He dropped me off, and I found Charlotte sitting there at my desk with everything under control. This was both good and bad. Good, because Rosalind didn't seem to give a shit that I was late. Bad, because it appeared I was no longer needed. Charlotte held up a basket of scones.

‘I made extra for our department to share.'

‘Great,' I mumbled.

‘Jam and cream?'

‘Sure, why not?' I bit into it. It was a good scone.

I called Emilio's mobile phone. Why hadn't he called me yet? Teresa answered.

‘Does Emilio want to see me?'

‘Not today. He will do the sightseeing with his bodyguard. He will see you tomorrow before his match.'

‘Oh. Who's with him?'

‘Sharon Stone. Have you found
el amuleto
?'

‘Ah, no.'

She hung up.

‘If anyone's looking for me,' I said to Charlotte, ‘I've got a meeting at the tennis.' I left and said to Andrew, ‘What would you be doing if you weren't babysitting me?'

‘At the tennis, probably.'

‘Bugger. Sorry.' I shouldn't have asked. Now I felt I should take him to the tennis but I didn't want to go there. I wanted to bury myself in some miserable something.

‘It's fine.'

‘Can you take me home?'

‘Sure.'

At home, I went back to bed and lay there.

Mum came in. ‘I'm off to the supermarket. Do you want some pills for your headache?'

‘How are you getting to the supermarket?'

‘Well, I was going to ask your chauffeur but Imelda offered.'

I sat up. ‘Mrs Booth's taking you to the supermarket?'

‘Yes, dear. Do you want some pills?'

As soon as Mum left with Mrs Booth, I changed into my breaking-and-entering outfit – black three-quarter-length leggings, black tank top and runners – and climbed the fence. I ran first to the garage, peeked in and checked there were no cars. All clear. I ran back to the trellis, stood on the vine covering the old basement doors and there was a loud crack as the timber gave way. I was suddenly sitting among the vine, my leg dangling through the gaping hole. I could feel cobwebs brushing my leg, and this caused me to shoot out of there double time. I gripped the trellis, climbed a couple of feet and looked down. Daylight filled the cavity below. Beyond the cobwebs, waving in the new-found breeze, I could see the old stairs leading down to the basement. I shuddered, repelled by the basement and its potential scary stuff but also guilty about the damage. I wondered how I could make it up to Mrs Booth. Without her knowing it was me, of course.

I climbed another couple of feet and Axle joined me. He scampered up the trellis and sat on the window sill.

‘Get home, naughty cat!'

He ignored me and as I pushed open Ruth's old bedroom window, he ducked inside.

‘Axle!'

I fell through the window and landed in a heap on the floor. I stood and looked around. The room was very tidy. Everything in its place, women's shoes lined up in a row against the wall. No sign of the ones that looked suspiciously like my high heels. I brushed myself down, and went looking for Axle, who I found on his back in the hallway, swiping playfully at Minx.

‘You're grounded, Mr Naughty.'

I crept along the hallway, past the bathroom, remembering where everything was. Mrs Booth's bedroom was ahead on the left, overlooking the street. That's where the lucky charm would be, for sure. I snuck in there and stopped, surprised by what I saw. No rich velvets, purples and maroons, or mirrors hanging from things. It was a ‘normal' looking bedroom with a neat floral doona cover, pale pink drapes and white sheers. Well, well, maybe she's really nice and normal after all, in which case . . . would she have stolen the lucky charm? My stomach turned at the thought of it. If the lucky charm wasn't here, where the hell would it be? I stared out the window onto the street, considering the possibility, feeling sickened by it. I watched Mrs Booth's Kia pull into the driveway. Mum was in the front passenger seat. I blinked at the scene, the realisation that I was about to be caught breaking and entering taking its time to stir me into action.

I heard Mrs Booth say, ‘Won't be one minute, Margaret.'

I ran back to Ruth's room, hid behind her bedroom door. Mrs Booth was on the stairs. ‘Where on earth did I leave my purse?' And as I stood there, my heart pounding, I saw, not a metre away from me, draped over Ruth's dressing table mirror, Emilio Méndez's famous lucky charm. I let out a gasp and dived on it. But there was a padlock attaching it to the mirror frame. I pulled at it, looking for a way to free it. It was most certainly Emilio's – I could see the inscription. But then I heard Mrs Booth. ‘Axle! How did you get in here? Did my daughter leave her window open again?' Mrs Booth's footsteps headed my way. ‘I hope you haven't been helping yourself to my goldfish.' I dashed across the room, rolled over the window sill, gripped the trellis, slid down it a few feet before stopping, clinging to the thin wood and pressing my body flat against the wall. The window above me slammed shut. I heard it lock. I descended fast, jumped the last two metres, rolled like they do in the movies, and raced into the garden, where I crouched, puffing, sweating. The back door opened and Axle shot out of it. I waited until I heard Mrs Booth from the front of the house. ‘Sorry to be so long, Margaret. Your daughter's cat was in the house!'

I hoped Mum didn't dob on me. I could just imagine: ‘Oh, yes, Imelda. Erica's been lurking around your house ever since she moved home. It's a wonder you didn't find her in there too!'

I lay on my back, listening to the Kia drive away. Axle sat on my stomach. What I really felt like doing was curling into a ball and sucking my thumb. But I had more important things to do for now. How to get the chain off the padlock? It wouldn't be hard, because I could easily cut the chain. I was sure Emilio wouldn't mind if I did that.

I called Jack and told him.

‘And where does Andrew think you've been?'

‘In bed with a headache.'

‘So you snuck out the back door and climbed the fence. Again.'

‘Uh, yeah.'

He took a deep breath, whispered something that sounded like, ‘God help me.'

‘You can come to church with us if you want.'

‘And this means Imelda Booth took the charm after all.'

‘Yes, and gave it to her daughter. Probably trying to make up for being a crappy mother.'

‘What are you planning?'

‘Do you think I should call the police? Maybe your friend, Bill Lucas? But I don't want Emilio finding out where it was.'

‘Erica. Think about it. The charm was found in a supermarket trolley. It wasn't
stolen
, my love.'

Gasp!
My love
. I couldn't speak.

He cleared his throat. ‘What do you want to do?'

I shook my head, patted my face. ‘I'll go back in there and get it.'

‘How will you get in?'

Good point. Mrs Booth had locked the window. But maybe Ruth would open it again. The nights were warm. I could wait until tomorrow. Or . . .

‘Will you help me?'

‘Sure. Joe and I'll storm the house while they're asleep. We'll have weapons and wear masks so we're not recognised.'

‘Would you?'

‘Of course not. You really think I'd do something like that?'

‘No. Sorry.' But, bugger, I wish he would. Although it wouldn't be very nice for Ruth and Mrs Booth. They might never get over it. I don't think I would. ‘I'll have to wait until tomorrow. The window might be open again. Or I could see if there's another window open.'

‘I don't want you breaking into houses.'

‘It's only one house. Not like I'm planning a new career.'

He huffed and didn't say anything for a while. Finally, he said, ‘Degraves wants me in Bass Strait. There's indication of another attack planned against his rigs.'

‘Oh my God! How do you know? Will you go?'

‘Yes, if I'm needed there.'

‘When?'

‘Soon. Next couple of days.'

‘But —' I wanted to say
what about
me
, but knew I couldn't. Shouldn't. ‘What about Emilio's security?'

‘Andrew's with you. I'll have others watching Méndez.'

‘Joe?'

‘He's with me.'

‘Sharon?'

Pause. ‘With me.'

‘Will she fly you out there?'

‘Yes.'

Damnit. Why didn't I become a helicopter pilot? Join the Air Force? It can't be that hard to fly those things. Those hornet things.

‘Do you think Emilio's safe?'

He took a while to answer. ‘What we've learned about the threats against Méndez is that they're pathetic. Minor incidents by inexperienced, frightened people. We've made our presence very clear. I really don't think there'll be a problem.'

‘Being shot at by Sharon wasn't minor.'

‘It wasn't Sharon, Erica.' He was annoyed.

‘How do you know?'

‘Your gun was stolen and . . . I'm working on it.'

I'm working on it
 . . . Now I was shitty. ‘The armed hold-up wasn't minor.'

‘It was in the sense that those guys were all bark and no bite. Their guns weren't loaded. Their purpose was to put Méndez off his game, that's all.'

‘
One
gun wasn't loaded. We don't know about the other.'

‘Erica.' He sounded fully exasperated now. ‘You're here. You're safe. Forget it.'

Yeah, I'm safe if Sharon's with you because then she can't kill me. I hung up. He didn't call back.