November (12 page)

I rehearsed it over and over, trying out different ways of breaking this massive news to her.

Finally, still undecided as to how I was going to put it, I retrieved my phone and dialled Rafe’s place.

‘Rafe speaking.’

‘Uncle Rafe, it’s me.’

‘Cal?’ he replied, his voice quavering.

‘Please hear me out. First of all, I just want to say that I didn’t fire the gun at the chapel. I’d heard a sniper was going to try to take you out, so I went there to stop him. To save you.’

‘Wh-where are you?’ he stuttered. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine. Listen, I really need to speak to Mum. I have something important to tell her. Something I think she’ll want to hear.’

‘I hope it’s not something that will upset her. Every time she talks to you, she ends up in a mess. She’s fragile, Cal. She has Gabbi back, but
she’s still finding it hard to cope with her family in tatters.’

‘This could help.’

Rafe paused. ‘Do you mean you’re going to hand yourself in?’ he asked, hopefully.

‘I can’t do that.’

I heard my uncle sigh. ‘If it’s important,’ he said, ‘why don’t you give me your message and I’ll pass it on to her. I think it’d be better if she heard it from me, speaking on your behalf.’

‘Please, just let me talk to her.’

‘Cal, I need to speak to you myself—man to man.’ His voice was a whisper. ‘I want you to know that
I
know—’

He was cut short. I could hear my mum calling.

‘Is that Cal? Let me speak to him! It’s my son!’

Within seconds she was running to the phone, but not before Rafe spoke urgently. ‘I know you don’t quite trust me, but you should. If we could—’

But it was too late. Mum had grabbed the phone from him.

‘Cal? Where are you?’ she blurted.

‘It doesn’t matter where I am. Mum, I need to tell you something. I know everything. I know about the abduction when I was a baby. That I had a twin who was never found.’

I heard my mum’s sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

‘Mum,’ I said. ‘I’ve found him. He’s alive.’

The shocked silence at the other end of the line deepened into a huge void.

‘Mum?’ I asked.

‘Samuel? He’s alive? Please don’t lie to me, Cal,’ she pleaded, the distress obvious in her voice.

‘I’m not, I promise. I’ve met him. He looks just like me. He’s fine. He’s had a good life—I want you to know that.’

I could hear her crying on the phone and I was feeling overcome with all sorts of strange and powerful emotions. ‘I can’t talk any more,’ I said, swallowing hard. ‘I just wanted you to know that Samuel’s OK. And in case you still care,’ I added, before hanging up, ‘I am, too.’

Not so long ago, I’d have gone to my mum if
something
was bothering me. Not even for advice, necessarily, but because she had that knack of making me feel better. I had almost forgotten what that felt like.

Something in the back of my mind was
telling
me that I was forgetting an important detail. I was processing so much information that I couldn’t pinpoint it.

There was somewhere I was supposed to be … someone I was supposed to see …

Eric Blair!

I jumped up so hard I banged my head on the roof of the treehouse. I’d stood him up!

I pulled my mobile out and dialled his
number
. It went straight to voicemail.

‘Eric, er, it’s me. I’m so sorry I didn’t show up for our meeting,’ I said. ‘I can’t believe I missed it. I was on my way when—’

‘Hello? Cal?’ said Eric, suddenly picking up the phone.

‘Eric! Please tell me you’ll meet me another time? I won’t mess up again, I swear.’

‘I know it can’t be easy for a fugitive to keep his appointments, but I have to admit, I’m
apprehensive
about giving it another go. The police called a news briefing this morning with all the leading journos of the city. If you thought the arrest of Oriana de la Force was going to take the heat off you, you’re going to have to think again. It seems to have only fuelled the fire.’

I swore.

‘Senior Sergeant McGrath told us again how seriously the force is committed to your capture,’ Eric continued, ‘especially with a huge
international
security convention being held in the Harbour next month. McGrath’s created a new strike force—
Predator
. He’s furious about being thwarted by a sixteen-year-old kid. Colleagues
are making jokes. Imagine what the international agents will think. The newspaper cartoonists are having a field day. Now they’re going to have teams of volunteers as well as cops reviewing all the public closed-circuit cameras on a daily basis. They’re gunning for you. More than ever.’

‘Sounds like I need your help,
more than ever
. Please say you’ll meet me. I’ll make it quick, I promise. I won’t bring any trouble to you. Can we try again?’

It took some convincing, but Eric finally agreed to another meeting. He told me it was my last shot—that he was too concerned about being caught with me. I wasn’t going to let that be a problem.

18 NOVEMBER

44 days to go …

Boges hissed my name and I threw him the rope.

Soon his figure appeared at the window and he squeezed his way through, dropping down opposite me.

‘Dude, what is it? What’s happened?’

I told him about my run-in with Ezekiel and how I’d been hauled into Toecutter’s bedroom for his confession. I also told him how my mum had reacted, and about Rafe’s mysterious message, cut short on the phone.

I handed Boges the yellowing newspaper clipping.

Boges read it in a few moments, then looked up in disbelief.

‘You and your brother were kidnapped by Toecutter? Ryan Spencer is Samuel, your twin brother? I can’t get my head around this!’ Boges sat there, staring at me. ‘All these years of
knowing you, and I didn’t know anything about this!’ Boges’s eyebrows were up at his hairline, and his round face was shocked and concerned.

‘Neither did I! It’s like I’ve tripped over and fallen into a parallel universe. The life I’ve known is not my real life. Everything’s been kept a secret from me, to protect me from the memory.’

‘So it happened in Kenthurst—you must have lived there before Richmond. Your parents must have moved to escape the attention from the tragedy. That must be why no-one who lives near you has ever mentioned this massive crime happening to you guys. If only everyone knew who you were! But who ordered the kidnapping?’ Boges asked. ‘Who paid Toecutter to wipe out you and your brother?’

‘He didn’t say. Maybe I’ll never find out.’ I paused. ‘He never got paid for it, anyway. He never finished the job.’

‘Griff Kirby must be working for him now. He’s moved up in the world pretty fast. Gone from petty crime to the big time. He could be the next
Toecutter
. Wow,’ said Boges, shaking his head. ‘This is nuts! I can’t believe you really have a twin!’

‘Believe it. I’m going to have to tell Ryan about it some day soon. He deserves to know the truth, too.’ I thought about the new strike force out to
get me. ‘I hope you never regret this, Boges,’ I said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘If I don’t clear my name, and the cops find out about your association with me, that could totally finish off any dreams you have of an internship with NASA. It could blow your education.’

Boges looked serious. ‘Then we’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we? Now,’ he said
looking
around, lifting his camera out of his bag, ‘where’s the best place to set up the passport photo shoot?’

I grabbed the contact lens case Winter had given me, and jumped out of the tree to go wash my hands at the tap. After a lot of trouble, I finally got the slippery suckers into my eyes. Blinking, I looked up at Boges.

Boges blinked back. ‘They make you look really weird. So different. Come up here and I’ll take the pic in front of the curtains.’

After he’d taken a few, I peered over his shoulder at my image on the screen of his camera. The guy who stared back at me wasn’t me.

‘These will do. I’ll fix them up a bit on my computer, then I’d better give them to Sharkey. So tell me,’ he said, sitting back down again, ‘what do you think Rafe wants to talk to you about?’

‘No idea. But he was right about me feeling unsure of him.’

‘One person I think you should speak to is Rathbone,’ he said. ‘We have to make him talk, and tell us who the nicknames belong to.’

‘He won’t do it—not without a lot of pressure.’

‘Pressure is what we have. We still have the photos of him with his dirty money,’ he reminded me. ‘It worked once, it can work again. You don’t have a problem with breaking a promise to a criminal, do you?’

‘I guess not,’ I said. ‘But what will make him trust us this time? What will make him give
anything
to us when we could just go back on our word again, and bribe him with the photos for something else?’

‘Dude, he can’t take the risk of those photos getting out. He’s up to no good, and I’m pretty sure he won’t want to jeopardise that extra income he’s been generating on the sly.’

I snuck out to go to the local library, careful to avoid the Lovetts on my way. It seemed Luke’s parents were having a bit of a clean-up in the yard. I made sure my cash-loaded backpack was strapped on tight, and hoped they’d steer clear of the treehouse.

I jumped on the library’s online newspaper files, and looked up Kenthurst and the date of the abduction.

I pushed my chair away from the monitor. This wasn’t the Rafe I knew. For as long as I could remember he and dad were almost
strangers
. They weren’t each other’s shadow. Was he just playing the media? Or had the tragedy changed him?

Even with my dark brown contacts, I avoided looking anyone in the eye as I made my way back down to the docks, to Eric Blair’s personal office.

I didn’t feel as anxious about this meeting as I did last time, but I was still carefully scoping the scene, making sure I wasn’t about to be sprung by the cops, or some other thug.

Eric’s office was located in a modern building with the foyer opening directly onto the footpath. I strolled on in and up the stairs to the second floor. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door marked number seven.

‘Come in,’ he called.

I took another deep breath and walked in.

I’d stepped into a small office with one window overlooking the water. A vase of bright yellow daisies sat on his relatively empty desk. Eric stood up from behind the desk as I tentatively approached him, offering him my hand.

‘Good to finally meet you,’ I said.

‘And you too, son,’ he said, shaking my hand. His smile was warm and friendly, but I suddenly felt uneasy.

I stopped in my tracks.

I dropped his hand.

‘You OK?’ he asked, his eyes alarmed at my retreat.

I recognised the confusion and worry in his eyes and backed away faster, reaching behind me for the door.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

He stepped towards me.

‘Get away from me,’ I growled.

‘Cal, what’s the problem? You’re safe in here. Why the sudden change of heart?’

‘I said, get away from me.’

I was dizzy. Flashbacks from that hot December afternoon, New Year’s Eve, fired into my mind.

‘You!’ I shouted, unable to control my voice. ‘It was
you
!
You
were the crazy guy that chased me down my street last year! You were the one who told me I had 365 days to survive, that they killed my father, that they’d kill me too!’

‘What? Cal—’

‘I can’t believe it! After all this time! This 365-day countdown
began
with you!’

Although he looked different, I could still see the wildness in his eyes.

Eric’s face was a mixture of concern and bewilderment.

‘Cal,’ he said, ‘what are you talking about?
I’ve never met you before in my life! 365 days?’ he murmured to himself.
‘365 days?’
he repeated.

I wrenched the door open and took off.

‘Cal! Come back!’ Eric yelled down the
corridor
. ‘What do you mean?
365 days?
Please, come back! Help me understand! Don’t run away like this!’

I was down the stairs and back out on the street when I realised Eric was coming after me. I turned back and his image instantly merged into that of the staggering sick man who had already chased me once.

‘I want to help you! You have nothing to fear from me,’ he shouted. ‘Tom was my friend!’

All of a sudden my body just stopped running. My mind was sending me danger signals, but my heart told me to turn around and hear him out.

Blair bent over—puffed out, helpless and
completely
harmless. As he stood upright again, I thought I could see tears in his eyes.

‘365 days,’ he repeated, yet again. ‘I don’t know why, but for some reason that is strangely familiar to me. But why?’ he said in a barely audible voice, as though he was thinking aloud.

‘That’s because
you
were the one who said it to me. You told me my dad had been murdered and that I would be too if I didn’t hide out for
365 days. It’s been haunting me ever since. My life took a dive-bomb almost instantly.’