Squishy Taylor and a Question of Trust (2 page)

Diamond smugglers?
Cool. I’m almost tempted to look at whatever Jessie is listening to.

But then Alice yells from the kitchen, ‘Climbers! Time to leave!’

I follow her and Vee out into the corridor. They’re both wearing cross-back tops too. Alice’s is grey and Vee’s is hot pink. Their shiny black ponytails swing in time as they walk.

On the way past I see that Mr Hinkenbushel’s door is slightly open. This is a bit weird – his door is usually double-locked – so I can’t help glancing in. It’s really messy inside. I wonder if he got home and just tipped his suitcase all over the floor.

I stand still for a moment.
Unless he’s been burgled?
There’s a bright page from a magazine lying half out the door. It doesn’t look like the kind of thing Mr Hinkenbushel would have, so I lean down to pick it up.

‘Alice …?’ I call, wanting to tell her about the mess. But they’re straining to hold the lift open with their hands, because the ‘stay open’ button is broken.

I laugh and
bolt
for the lift.

‘Bet I can climb the Gargoyle’s Escape,’ Vee says as we push through the big glass doors into Rockers, the rock-climbing gym. Vee always says that, but she still can’t do it.

‘Bet you can’t,’ I say.

‘Bet
you
can’t,’ Vee says back.

Alice is the only one of us who’s ever climbed the Gargoyle’s Escape. It’s the hardest section of the wall.

Rockers has a huge glass wall, so you can look out at the city if your fingers are
gripping
tight enough. I’ve only been climbing for a couple of weeks, but I’m almost as good as Vee already. When it’s my turn, I climb fast. Sometimes when I’m climbing, I have to be really strategic, and plan where to go next. But sometimes, like today, the holds seem to just appear without me thinking about it. It’s like my fingers and arms are working without my brain noticing. The other cool thing about rock-climbing is it makes you better at
monkey bars
and
bunk-bed acrobatics
.

We take it in turns to climb or belay (holding the safety rope for the other person) till our arm muscles ache.

Alice gives us smoothie money and sends us to catch the tram home alone while she goes on to work.

We always
race
for the shower, so when we get back Vee shoves past me into the kitchen, trying to beat me there. But there’s a policeman sitting at the table. Vee stops and I bump into her back. Dad is frowning at the policeman.

‘Whoa there, little ladies!’ says the policeman, like he’s talking to some kind of pony. He chuckles as though we are
adorable
and
stupid
.

I stare at him.

‘Veronica, Sita,’ Dad says, ‘this is Constable Graham.’ Dad only calls me Sita when something is important. It makes me a bit scared.

‘What’s going on?’ I ask.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ Constable Graham says, resting his hands comfortably on his stomach. ‘There’s some kind of problem next door, so I’m talking to all the neighbours.’

I think of the noises in Mr Hinkenbushel’s apartment last night, and remember the mess I saw this morning.

‘Did Mr Hinkenbushel get burgled?’ I ask. I nearly add, ‘Serves him right,’ and I think Dad hears my thoughts. He glares at me.

‘
We
-ell,’ the policeman says. ‘I wouldn’t say burgled, exactly. Not exactly. Ms Kuot across the corridor called us because she saw the mess. We tracked down Mr Hinkenbushel on the phone this morning. He’s still away and we located his list of valuables. None of them are missing. So it’s looking like a break-and-enter. Vandalism.’

Vee and I stare at each other. A crime on our very own floor. This is cooler than a lady typing at night.

‘You two
princesses
haven’t seen anything suspicious, have you?’ the policeman asks. ‘Anyone hanging around here who might have done it? Some
bigger boys
maybe?’

Princesses! Bigger boys! I want to
choke
.

‘Squishy – I mean, Sita – heard a noise last night,’ Vee says.

So I tell him about the noise and how I know it was after 2.57 because of Jessie checking the time. He nods and notes it on his iPad. Jessie arrives in the middle of it, with her violin slung over her shoulder. She agrees about when she checked the time.

‘Good. Good to know.’ The policeman stands up and smiles at me like my prep teacher used to. ‘You’ve been very helpful, Sita.’ Then he chuckles. ‘Or should I say, Squishy?’

He’s laughing at me. It doesn’t feel very nice.

He shakes Dad’s hand and then does a
stupid little wave
at us kids, like we’re two-year-olds.

Dad closes the door with a solid click and turns back. His face is very, very serious. ‘OK, you lot. If this has anything to do with that ridiculous club of yours, tell me now.’

The Hinkenbushel Revenge Club. We
wish
we broke into his apartment!

‘Of course not,’ Jessie says. ‘That was only a game.’

‘We quit exactly when you told us to,’ Vee adds.

‘It
really
wasn’t us, Dad,’ I say.

He looks us in the eyes, one by one. ‘If you own up now, it’s much better than being caught later.’

We all look right back at him. He seems satisfied.

Then Baby wakes up and starts crying and Jessie goes to put her violin away. Vee beats me to the shower. I stand in the kitchen, thinking.

I remember the piece of paper I picked up from Mr Hinkenbushel’s doorway and dig around in my bag to pull it out. I unfold it and spread it on the table.

It’s a catalogue for very
expensive
diamond rings.

It’s pizza for dinner so we are all helping. Vee is smearing tomato sauce over the bases, Jessie is neatly laying out mushrooms, salami and olives, and I’m grating cheese for the top (and eating
pinches
of it as I go). Alice is in charge of the oven and Dad is in charge of Baby.

The news is on.
‘Police are closing in on a diamond-smuggling operation, which sources say is operating somewhere in central Melbourne. Lord Smiggenbotham-Chancery has been helping with the investigation.’

Then a familiar lazy posh voice comes on.
‘These criminals will stop at nothing. The Australian Police should be very afraid.’

I think about our policeman and grin.

‘Do you think Constable Graham is “very afraid”?’ I ask, helping myself to more cheese. Vee slaps my hand with the sauce spoon and tomato
splatters
everywhere. We try not to giggle. Vee makes a tiny gesture, pointing to a spray of sauce on Alice’s shirt, and we both try even harder not to giggle.

The reporter’s voice comes back on. ‘
Police are seeking forged documents that declare the diamonds to be legal.
’

‘What makes diamonds legal or illegal?’ I ask.

‘Well, that’s a good question for your mother,’ Dad says. ‘Ask her next time you skype.’

‘OK.’ Mum is better at answering questions anyway.

‘Oh, damn!’ Alice says, and I think she’s found the splatter on her shirt. But it’s not that. ‘I forgot the mangos,’ Alice says.

Vee and I groan
dramatically
. We only get dessert on Saturday nights. It’s one of the
dumb
rules my bonus family brought in.