Invisible! (11 page)

‘So who
did
this? Your
mother?
The Invisible
Man?
'

‘I dunno, Dad, but it wasn't me.'

‘Oh, wasn't it? Well I'll tell you one thing – it's
you
's going to put it all back, and you'd better be quick about it. I've somebody coming any minute and he'll not see
my
place looking like a tip. Go on – get it sorted before I kick your backside.'

Not fair.
On his knees on the concrete floor, stacking stuff under the bench while
The Simpsons
performed to his empty room.
Why do
I
always get the blame?
He wished he had Bart's guts. He'd run through to the kitchen where Dad was putting the kettle on for his visitor, drop his jeans and moon the miserable so-and-so. Better, he'd wait till the mysterious visitor was actually
here
, drinking tea in the front room, and do it to the pair of them. Yeah,
that's
what old Bart'd do.
Who did this, though? Somebody must have. It wasn't like this when we got back from Safeways. What if somebody broke in? Is still here?
He glanced around, moistening his lips with his tongue, but the garage was brilliantly lit. No murky corners, except …

He gazed towards the angular object under its black shroud.
Could be hiding under there with whatever it is.
Trouble was, he didn't dare go look. Not because he was scared of what he might find, but because he was scared of his father.
What's under that sheeting's none of your business, boy. Understand?
He'd said that months ago, when the first mysterious shape had appeared, and Lee knew he meant it. It wasn't the actual words so much as the dangerous light in the man's eyes as he spoke them. Lee knew that light. The black sheeting had covered many an intriguing item since then and Lee had stayed well clear. You didn't mess with Bob Kippax when he got that light in his eye.

The Invisible Man.
Lee drew in a sharp breath, peering about him.
What if …?
He moistened his lips again and croaked, ‘Rosie? Rosie Walk, are you here? Did
you
do this? Say something, for Pete's sake.'

No, don't.

Rosie stood beside the statue of Poseidon, holding her breath till Lee decided she wasn't there and went back to stacking away the stuff she'd got out. Now the lights were on she could see she'd groped in vain. There was no flashlight. No matches.

It
was
a statue. She'd lifted a corner of the giant bin-bag while Lee was busy and seen a greenish foot and the shaft of what might be a spear. She didn't know for sure it was Poseidon, but it'd be a strange coincidence if it was some other statue after Peter's midnight encounter with Kippax's van in the gateway of Sowerby Old Hall.

So I was right. Kippax senior's our thief. I bet he lifted those two Turners from Inchlake Manor too. So. All I have to do is get out of here, go visible and tell the police. That'll teach ‘em – case solved by prime suspect. Prime suspect's kid anyway.

Her train of thought was derailed by the sound of a motor. Lee shot a glance towards the garage door and began to work faster, but the door to the house opened and his father strode through.

‘Leave that now. Go to your room and stay there till I say you can come out. Move.'

Lee straightened up, scuttled past his father and vanished into the house.
Maybe I should follow
, thought Rosie, but old Kippax moved to a box on the wall and thumbed a green button. The garage door swung up. Rosie grinned.
Panic over. I can leave now whenever I want to.

Under the floodlight stood a van. It had reversed up the driveway. Now it came scrunching into the garage. It wasn't the blue Kippax van which had nearly squashed Pete. This one was red, and pretty ancient. Rosie tiptoed over to the house door so she could watch and not be in the way.

Two men got out.

‘Bit late,' growled Kippax. ‘Thought you'd blobbed.'

The driver shrugged. ‘Traffic, squire. God!' He'd spotted the bin-bag. ‘I'd have hired a ruddy elephant if I'd known it was this size. Solid bronze and all.'

Kippax shook his head. ‘Hollow. Just over a tonne. Piece of cake,
and
you get a cuppa when it's loaded. Not many people'd look after you like I do.' He went across and started ripping away the polythene. The driver and his mate joined in. In seconds the statue stood revealed – six feet of gleaming muscle wearing a crown of seaweed and brandishing a trident, his feet buried in a drift of torn plastic. Rosie nodded to herself.
Of course. Poseidon's another name for Father Neptune and here he is, folks. Why doesn't somebody pass by right now and spot him?
She slitted her eyes, peering down the floodlit driveway.
Oh, right. Hidden by the van. Crafty swines. I wonder … can I get to school, go visible, run to the police station and get back here in a patrol car before they load up, drink their tea and drive away?

I can give it a flipping good try.

‘Now then, miss, what can we do for you?'

‘I need to speak to Detective Sergeant Springer. It's urgent.'

‘Oh, aye?' The constable scrutinized Rosie from rat-tail hair to sodden trainers. ‘You look half-frozen. Are you all right?'

‘I'm fine. Look – I know where that statue is but they're shifting it. It'll be gone in a few minutes.'

‘Statue?'

‘Yes, you know. The Greek one. Poseidon, from Sowerby Old Hall. Sergeant Springer questioned my dad about it, said I was to let him know if I saw anything.'

The constable pulled a fat ledger towards him and picked up a pen. ‘Can I have your name, miss? Name and address.'

‘Rosie. Rosie Walk. We're travellers, parked on that bit of the old Cleeston road by Inchlake Woods.'

‘Aah, right.' The officer nodded. ‘You're one of the Three Bears, aren't you?' He smiled. ‘Baby Bear, I suppose. Well, Baby Bear, I'm afraid Sergeant Springer's not on duty tonight. Comes on at eight tomorrow morning. You could try then.'

‘Tomorrow
morning?
' Rosie was outraged. ‘That statue's being loaded on a van
now.
It could be in Timbuctoo by morning. Let me talk to whoever's on duty.'

‘
I
'm on duty, miss. Constable Stables. Talk to me.'

‘I
have
, but you don't seem to believe me.'

‘That's because you haven't given me much to go on, miss. Where exactly
is
this statue, and how come
you
know about it?'

‘It's in Mr Kippax's garage, and I know because I was there. I saw it.'

‘Mr Kippax's garage?' The constable gazed at her. ‘D'you mean
Bob
Kippax, the joiner?'

‘Yes. His son's in the same class as me.'

‘Is he now? And what were you doing up there, miss? It's a long way from the woods.'

‘I was … investigating.'

‘Investigating? Playing at private detectives, you mean?'

‘No, I wasn't
playing.
Mr Kippax was up Inchlake Manor just before those paintings were taken,
and
his van was seen near Sowerby Old Hall last night.'

‘Seen?' The constable stared at her. ‘By
who
, may I ask?'

‘It's
whom.
'

‘What?'

‘You say
whom
, not
who.
And it was Peter Rabbit.'

‘Peter Rabbit.' He sighed. ‘You're sure it was Peter Rabbit
whom
saw this van, and not Squirrel Nutkin or Bart Simpson or Alice in Wonderland?'

‘Peter Rabbit's
real.
He's in …'

‘Don't tell me. The same class as you, right?'

‘Yes.'

The officer sighed again. ‘Listen, miss. I don't know if you've heard, but there's a crime wave all over the country. The police are pretty
stretched trying to cope with the genuine stuff. What we
don't
need is a lot of hassle from kids called things like Baby Bear and Peter Rabbit, with overdeveloped imaginations and too little to do. And now I'll have to ask you to run along, because I'm very busy. G'night, miss.'

‘Hi, Pete. All right?' Thursday morning, just before the buzzer.

Peter nodded. ‘Not bad, thanks.'

Rosie smiled. ‘For someone who nearly got run over by thieves, eh?'

‘How d'you mean, thieves?'

‘The place you were passing when the van nearly got you was Sowerby Old Hall, right?'

‘I haven't a clue.'

‘Well it was. And that same night, by a strange coincidence, a statue was pinched from the grounds of Sowerby Old Hall. And by an even stranger coincidence, that statue later showed up in old Kippax's garage.'

The boy goggled. ‘How the heck do you
know
all this, Rosie?'

She told him about Sergeant Springer's visit to her home, and her own to the Kippax residence. She was explaining how she'd got herself locked in the garage when Carrie and Conrad joined them and she had to start all over again.

When she'd finished, Carrie said, ‘Why didn't you
tell
us you were investigating? We could have come with you. We're supposed to be a gang, you know.'

‘I know and I meant to, but it was so
cold.
You'd have hated it.'

‘
You
managed.'

‘I'm used to it. Thing is what do we
do
, now the police don't believe us?'

Conrad looked at her. ‘They didn't believe
you
, Rosie, ‘cause you're a stranger and a traveller. If one of
us
had been there …'

‘It'd have made no difference,' interrupted his twin. ‘It's not because Rosie's a stranger
or a
traveller, it's because she's a kid. Haven't you noticed grown-ups
never
believe kids?'

Conrad pulled a face. ‘'Course I have, turkey.
So what do we do?'

‘Get evidence. Hey Rosie – I've got a camera. Why don't we go up the Kippax place tonight and take a picture of the statue?
That
'd prove you weren't lying, wouldn't it?'

Rosie sighed and shook her head. ‘It's
gone
, Carrie. I told you, a van came for it.'

‘Oh, yeah. Well – couldn't we grab Lee? Force him to confess?'

‘Sure, if you fancy a rumble with Rex Fairclough and Carl Foxcroft.
I
don't.'

‘Hey, have you noticed,' said Conrad, ‘they've all got the letter X in their names? Kippax, Rex, Foxcroft? D'you think that's why they're a gang?'

His sister snorted. ‘What the X has
that
got to do with anything, you dummy?'

‘I just noticed, that's all.'

‘We've got a choice,' murmured Rosie. ‘Either we find a way of making someone believe us, or we say it's none of our business and stop being invisible detectives.'