Unleashed! (10 page)

Darcy strapped on his helmet, saying, ‘Let’s do it.’

The kids were back at the warehouse after securing their bikes at The Van. ‘What exactly do you expect to find?’ asked Bryce, his eyes darting up and down the street. Any moment the man could return.

‘Dunno,’ said Clem with a shrug. ‘I’ll tell you when I find it.’ She walked slowly around the walls of the warehouse, trying to find a way in. Weeds broke through the sandstone blocks, now grubby with age. Initials had been carved in the stone with the occasional ‘Katie Loves Ben’ or ‘Go the Bulls!’. Clem bent down and drew her finger along a slab, leaving a pale streak behind. She looked at her muddied finger and said, ‘Yuck!’

Bryce scuffed his toe at a weed growing through cracks in the pavement. He glanced at his watch and whistled. It was getting late. Cara’ll be having a spaz attack! he thought. The only good reason
not
to have a mobile phone.

‘Check this out,’ said Clem. ‘Somebody’s handiwork.’

In letters a metre high ‘ACM’ had been sprayed onto the sandstone in black paint. Below it, in smaller letters, was some form of signature. The letters twisted and curved in an intricate maze of lines. Clem took a step back, trying to decipher the word. ‘B something.’ She turned to Darcy and Bryce to help her out. ‘BR.’

Bryce walked over to inspect the wall and his heart skipped a beat. A sheen formed on his nose.

‘BR,’ echoed Darcy. He thumped Bryce on the back. ‘Not up to your old tricks, are you?’

Bryce swung round and walloped Darcy back, catching him by surprise. ‘Shut your face. I’m straight.’ He stepped up to the wall and pointed. ‘It says Brick. See? BRICK.’ He stopped, almost a snarl on his face. ‘Not Bryce!’

And with that he strode back to the park to get his bike, kicking at a chunk of rock as he went and sending it somersaulting like a tumbleweed.

Clem went to stop him but changed her mind. There was nothing she could do when Bryce got
like this. She walked over to her brother and gave him a shove. ‘Did you have to? Lay off him, why don’t you.’

When Bryce reached the corner of the warehouse he turned and yelled, ‘For your information, I’m a writer, not a tagger,’ then he stormed off.

Clem, Darcy and Mio were shocked at the vehemence of his outburst.

Clem turned to her brother, her hands on her hips as she asked, ‘Happy now?’

‘It’s not my fault he’s so aggro.’ Darcy mirrored Clem, putting his hands on his own hips.

They went eyeball to eyeball.

‘He’s trying so hard to clean up his act and you seem hell-bent on bringing him down. It’s wrong, Darcy. Wrong.’

Mio lowered her head and closed her eyes. She breathed slowly, deeply, trying to still her racing heart. She imagined she was at a shrine at home. She loved the twins but sometimes they were so
urusai,
so noisy!

‘I know it’s wrong.’ Darcy hung his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘But it just pops out. I don’t mean to upset him.’

‘Tell that to Bryce.’

‘I will.
After we’ve
checked out this warehouse.’

Darcy paced around the wall, stopping every so often to look up. The building was the height of a small block of units. Rust-coloured paint dangled off window sills in weathered strips. The windows on the ground floor were too high to see through, but even if the kids were tall enough they’d have no luck as each one had been plastered with paper.

‘Why’d they paste over the windows?’ asked Darcy, squinting as he peered up at them. ‘Decoration?’

Mio found her voice. ‘To keep the sun out?’

‘More like to keep prying eyes out,’ said Clem. She stood on tiptoe, trying to look in. ‘Did the trick, too.’

The kids walked past two huge doors, locked of course, with the biggest keyhole they’d ever seen.

‘Looks like it’s a door for a giant.’ Darcy lined his eye up with the keyhole, saying, ‘Blocked! Wouldn’t you know it?’

‘Look at that,’ said Mio, pointing to the top of the door.

‘MCMXIV,’ read Clem. ‘That’s Roman numerals…’

Mio came in quickly. ‘1914. It’s pretty old. Wonder what it was built for?’

‘Who knows? Who cares?’ said Clem. ‘It’s what it’s used for now that I’m interested in.’ She
continued to walk around the building. The next doorway she reached was a normal size. It, too, was made of wood. She called to the others, ‘Come here.’

Darcy was the first to arrive. ‘Yes? We have a door. And your point is?’

‘It’s not just any door,’ said Clem, pointing to a latch. ‘It’s a small door. Easy to go in and out. Not like those other big ones.’

Darcy raised his eyebrows. ’Don’t you think you’re clutching at straws?’

‘I was just thinking,’ said Clem with a snort. ‘Which is more than I can say for you.’

‘Hey, enough with the insults.’

‘Enough with the smart remarks, then.’

The kids continued with their search but found nothing. They returned to The Van.

Darcy sat on his milk crate and, pushing his fringe out of his eyes, he said, ‘Let’s try and be logical about this. We’ve seen two dogs now.’

‘The beagle and the chin,’ said Clem.

‘And one man.’

Clem nodded. ‘One psycho man.’

‘And one mystery boy.’

‘Tong.’

‘And two “lost dog” posters.’

‘So, what’s going on?’

Suddenly, Mio grabbed Clem’s arm. Her voice
came out louder than she anticipated, catching her by surprise. ‘What if the dogs aren’t lost?’

Clem frowned and scratched her forehead. ‘What do you mean? You mean stolen?’ As soon as the words left her mouth Clem’s eyes zinged open. ‘That’s it! How brilliant, Mio. The dogs are being stolen.’ She frowned. ‘But one came from the pound and one went to the pound. I don’t get it. What’s the deal with the pound?’

Darcy snapped his fingers, saying, ‘I know! I know!’ His voice was high-pitched like an excited child.

‘Well, don’t keep us in suspense.’

Darcy was grinning like a sideshow clown. His hands flapped as he gestured wildly. ‘The dogs get stolen. They get taken to the pound. There they get documented as lost. The admissions book’s full of them. Some time later they get the big “C” beside their name. Their papers are stamped “deceased”. But they’re not dead, see. They get shipped out and then…’ He scratched his head. ‘And then…’

Clem jiggled up and down, her hair doing a can-can. ‘Then somehow they end up with psycho man.’ She frowned as she asked, ‘And then what?’

‘I dunno!’ Darcy ran his hand through his hair, then leaned back, clasping his hands behind his neck.

Mio wrinkled her nose, saying, ‘But why? Why go to so much trouble for a pet?’

‘Because they’re no ordinary pets.’ Clem sat up straighter on her crate and took a deep breath. ‘They’re all pedigrees! I bet he sells them.’

‘You can get heaps of money for pedigrees.’

‘Better still,’ said Clem, holding up her hand for attention, ‘if they were bought by a dog breeder, imagine what a whole
litter
would bring?’

The kids sat back, their faces both stunned and excited.

‘I knew it.’ Clem nodded her head emphatically. ‘I knew that man was up to no good the minute I lay eyes on him.’ She thought of the mean way he treated the dogs and her face flushed with anger. ‘We’ve got to stop him.’

Darcy scowled. ‘It’s not just one man, remember. Those people at the pound must be in on it, too. We’ve got to stop them all.’

Mio brushed her hair off her face as she asked, ‘Any suggestions?’

‘Catch them at their own game,’ said Clem, looking from Mio to Darcy. ‘What if we can get hold of a pedigree of some sort and lure them with it.’

Mio’s eyes shone. ‘We can film them. I’ve got a video. Catch them in action. It will be proof for the police.’

‘Yes!’ Clem slapped her thigh and almost launched off her crate. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’

Darcy gave Mio an appreciative nod, saying, ‘Good one, Mio. Thinking all the time.’

Mio glowed with the praise. ‘So, where do we get a pedigree from?’

Clem and Darcy shouted as one. ‘Mr Lark!’

‘Spoke to Mr Lark last night,’ said Darcy as he walked up to Bryce at the school bike rack the next morning.

‘Really?’ Bryce finished chaining his bike to the bike rack. He inspected the lock then went to leave.

Darcy grabbed his arm, saying, ‘He’s going to get a dog for us.’

‘That’s nice,’ said Bryce, trying to shake Darcy off.

‘We can pick it up this afternoon.’ ‘I’m very happy for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me…’

Darcy swung around to face him. ‘I’m really sorry about yesterday, Bryce. I really am. I didn’t mean to ride you.’

‘Sure.’

‘Honest.’

Bryce’s lip curled. He jutted out his jaw and thrust his hands in his pockets as he snapped, ‘Honesty seems to be your big problem.’

Clem and Mio joined the boys, then they, too, secured their bikes in the rack. ‘Today’s Thursday,’ announced Clem. ‘The day those men are meant to make their shipment. I hope there’s some sort of delay. I couldn’t bear it if we lost our beagle for good.’ Her face sagged with sadness.

Bryce turned to Clem and pointedly said, ‘You have a big heart, Clem. You deserve to find this dog.’

‘Thanks, Bryce.’

Darcy cut in. ‘Guess what, Mio. Mr Lark can get us the pedigree.’

‘Sugoi!’
Mio smiled as she translated. ‘Great!’

Bryce stared into the distance, saying nothing, intending to let Darcy stew.

‘Not too sure what breed, though.’ Clem looked to Darcy as she asked, ‘Did he say anything to you?’

Darcy shook his head. ‘All he said was that he was going to give his friend a call, the one who breeds beagles, and see if she can help. He said even if she doesn’t have any at the moment she might know someone who does.’

‘Good.’

‘There’s a catch, though,’ added Clem. ‘Mr Lark said that because he’s borrowing the dog it’s his responsibility to look after it, so he’s coming, too.’

Bryce scowled. ‘I thought we were going to do this on our own. No adults.’

‘Me, too. But it’s not as if we’ve got many options. None of us has a pedigree.’

‘I do,’ said Mio. ’Yuki.’

‘Cats don’t count.’

Bryce sucked some air through his front teeth. ‘Too many people will draw attention. Bring on the travelling show.’ He sang,
‘Like some kinds of freaks in a travelling show,’
then huffed in disgust.

It was after school. Mio was curled up in her tunnel with her video camera. Clem, Darcy, Bryce and Mr Lark huddled in The Van, each stationed at a window. They’d left their bikes at school as they were impossible to hide. The curtains were closed so they wouldn’t be seen.

‘So, this is The Van, eh?’ Mr Lark looked around with a beaming smile. ‘It’s real comfy.’

‘Thanks.’ Clem patted the black miniature poodle on Mr Lark’s lap, asking, ‘What’s she called?’

‘Sugar,’ answered Mr Lark as he scratched the poodle behind the ears. As if sensing the
excitement, Sugar gave a little yap. ‘Hush, girl. Hush,’ crooned Mr Lark. Sugar settled back and licked his hand.

‘I’ve set up this long-distance lead,’ Clem told Mr Lark. ‘One end’s attached to the tree in the corner and the other we’ll attach to Sugar. The cord’s black so it’ll be hard to see. This way she’ll look like a stray but she can’t run off.’ When Mr Lark looked dubious she added, ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be after her in a flash.’

‘You’d better,’ said Mr Lark, shaking a finger at Clem. ‘Her owner’ll kill me if anything goes wrong.’

‘Nothing’ll go wrong.’

Clem tied the black cord to Sugar’s collar which was pink with sparkles. She took Sugar to the door and eased her onto the ground, saying, ‘Off you go.’

Darcy pointed to the climbing frame. ‘If she’s clever she’ll find the bone I saved from dinner last night. A lamb shank. Yummy.’

‘I brought a camera,’ announced Bryce and he pulled it from his pocket. ‘Borrowed it from Dad. It’s got a multi-shot mode. Hold down the button and it takes five frames per second. Guaranteed not to miss anything.’ He looked at Clem and shrugged, saying, ‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’

‘What’ll happen if you break it?’ asked Clem.

Bryce mimed his throat being slit.

Sugar took a step then sniffed the air. She decided to go for a wander, first to the tunnel to check out Mio, then to the slippery slide. On the way she weed three times.

‘She better not get that lead caught around anything,’ said Clem, frowning as she watched Sugar go.

Deep furrows formed between Mr Lark’s eyebrows. ‘Especially her neck.’

Sugar moved to the climbing frame and yapped when she found the bone.

‘About time!’ said Darcy.

Between the kids and Mr Lark in The Van, and Mio in the tunnel, they had the whole park covered. After a while Mr Lark wriggled and stretched, rubbing his lower back. ‘Rheumatism,’ he said. ‘Fell off the roof when I was a kid.’

‘I’ve climbed up on the roof of our house and jumped off,’ said Darcy. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘We lived over a shop in a two-storey,’ countered Mr Lark.

Bryce smirked, enjoying Darcy’s discomfort.

Time passed slowly. Bryce’s tummy growled. He clutched it and shrugged, saying, ‘Sorry.’ Then he yawned, triggering a reaction from both Darcy and Clem.

‘Don’t get me started,’ said Darcy. He shook
himself to wake up, then went back to looking out the window.

Bryce started to hum, first softly but gradually getting louder and louder.

Clem gave him a prod, saying, ‘Shush!’

Bryce poked out his tongue but shut up.

Mr Lark laughed.

Half an hour passed and nothing happened. Hidden in The Van they heard the passing of cars, the chirp of birds and away in the distance there was the sound of jack-hammering. Bottoms were getting numb and legs stiff in the cramped conditions.

Bryce’s tummy kept grumbling as they continued their watch. Sugar sprawled at the climbing frame gnawing on the bone, her razorsharp teeth working overtime. Every now and again she gurgled, excited by the unexpected feast.

‘Finally!’ Clem pointed out her window. ‘Look. Someone’s coming.’

Five sets of eyes were glued to the approaching figure. He was short, more like a boy than a man, wearing a bulky black jacket with a hood and dark sunglasses. A khaki backpack and khaki baggy trousers completed his outfit.

‘Must be in camouflage,’ said Darcy in hushed tones.

Mr Lark grunted. ‘That’s no camouflage. Real camouflage includes the jacket and a cap with a good pair of boots.’

The boy walked beside the fence of the park, checking out the equipment.

Dup didee dup deedar doo dardoo.

‘What’s that?’ asked Mr Lark.

‘His phone.’

‘Yo! How’s ma man?’ The call seemed to take ages. The boy paced as he talked, now and again bursting into laughter.

The kids and Mr Lark waited, eyes and ears working overtime.

‘Wonder how Mio is,’ said Clem.

‘Wondering myself,’ answered Bryce.

Finally, the boy hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. In four steps he was at the gate to the park. He stopped, looking around furtively.

‘Any minute now and he’ll see Sugar.’ Clem turned to Bryce and asked, ‘Got the camera ready?’

Bryce was cleaning his fingernails with his key, the camera resting in his lap.

‘Bryce. The camera.’ Clem gestured frantically towards the boy. ‘Quick.’

Bryce stopped cleaning his fingernails. Slowly he returned his key-ring to his pocket.

‘Bryce!’ Clem’s face was fire-engine red.

‘Chill,’ said Bryce and he smiled. ‘I know that guy. Used to be on his crew. Does a mean piece. But he isn’t a dog-napper.’

Clem frowned and looked back through the window.

Bryce whispered loud enough for them all to hear, ‘Check out his shoes.’

‘Girly shoes.’ Mr Lark sniffed, then looked down his nose. ‘Huh!’

‘They’re rainbow-coloured,’ said Clem.

‘Exactly!’ said Bryce, looking smug.

Mr Lark cleared his throat. ‘I know I’m an old fella, Bryce, but I don’t get the shoe thing. In my day you’d be court-martialled for that.’

‘The shoes mean he paints. Graffiti you’d call it. We call it art.’ He gestured out the window and said, ‘Probably came back to bomb the place.’

Mr Lark jerked, his face alarmed. ‘Bomb?’

Bryce smiled. ‘Calm down, Mr Lark. Not your sort of bomb. Spray-painting bomb. Cover the neighbourhood, you might say.’ He turned to Darcy. ‘The gentleman we have here…’ His lips curved into a smile, ‘…is Brick.’

Sure enough, Brick strolled to the warehouse wall, looked left, then right, then whipped out a spray can and proceeded to write.

‘ACM,’ read Bryce as the boy formed the big bubble letters. ‘Aerosol City Madness.’

A new can came out of the backpack and as the boy wrote it was easy to make out the letters BRICK.

Darcy’s face flushed. ‘I’m sorry, Bryce. I shouldn’t have accused you.’ He shook his head at his stupidity. ‘I’ll never do it again.’

Bryce snorted and said, ‘Kiss my rooster!’

Clem, who’d been following this exchange, looked out the window saying, ‘Hey! He’s gone.’

Mr Lark and Bryce’s heads snapped back to the scene. Mr Lark gasped. ‘He has, too. The rascal!’

Clem pressed her face against the window. Her voice was shrill as she asked, ‘Where’s Sugar?’