The Curiosity Machine (9 page)

Ruby pointed from the lower deck to a bright red catamaran bobbing in the water. ‘Come on Flicka,' she said. ‘I'll teach you how to sail.' The two girls ran to the rear transom and dived into the water, surfacing a short distance away to swim towards the sailboat. Gerald and Sam watched as Ruby clambered onto one of the hulls and helped Felicity aboard. ‘I thought Ruby was a
hopeless swimmer,' Gerald said to Sam. ‘When we were in India she almost drowned in that temple.'

‘She's been taking lessons,' Sam said. ‘You may have noticed that Ruby doesn't like being hopeless at anything. So, what should we do? Swim ashore and dig for buried treasure?'

A smile crossed Gerald's face. ‘I think we can find something more exciting than making sandcastles,' he said. ‘Look.' He pointed towards a line of sleek jet skis that Ella and Irene were manoeuvring out of a storage locker on the waterline. ‘The girls can go sailing. I think these are more our style.'

Sam's face lit up. ‘Oh yes,' he said. ‘Oh yes indeed.'

Ella jumped aboard one of the jet skis and the motor roared to life. She gunned the throttle and powered in a broad arc across the water, skimming to a rocking halt by the stern of the
Archer
and sending a shower over Gerald and Sam. She lifted her sunglasses onto her forehead and smiled wide and friendly. ‘You boys like to try one of these?' she called up to them.

‘You bet!' Sam called back.

Gerald wiped the water from his face and was about to follow after Sam when a firm hand landed on his shoulder. He looked around, startled. ‘Mr Bourse!' Gerald said, taken aback by the force of the man's grip. ‘I—uh—I'd forgotten you were here. On the boat, I mean. It's pretty—you know—big.'

The banker smiled at him. ‘Call me Oscar,' he said.
‘And it's precisely the size of this craft that I want to discuss with you. That, and a few other business matters.'

Gerald hesitated and cast a quick look back to Sam and the line of jet skis on the water beyond.

‘I'm sure your friend won't mind playing on his own while we have a chat inside,' Bourse continued, guiding Gerald away from the rail. ‘Personally, I can't stand the outdoors—I burn.'

Sam gave Gerald a ‘what can I say?' shrug, then did a back flip off the rear deck and swam to where Ella was corralling the jet skis. Gerald stared after his friend and sighed.

‘Excellent,' Bourse said. ‘I think our conversation will prove most profitable.' Gerald moped inside, not at all happy to be giving up a minute of his birthday to some banker friend of Mr Prisk's. He flopped into a chair with a panoramic view of the island, its swaying palms and the fun that was going on without him outside.

‘Now, Gerald,' Bourse began, settling opposite him and flipping open a notebook, ‘what tax advantages are you receiving from private charters of this asset, and do you find the Caymans more beneficial as a flag of convenience or do you prefer the proximity of Guernsey? I've heard differing reports about the governance requirements under each jurisdiction and…'

Gerald didn't know where to look. He couldn't understand a word that Mr Bourse was saying. All he wanted was to join his friends out on the water. To add
to Gerald's misery, at that moment Sam zipped past the window on a jet ski.

‘You'd need to ask Mr Prisk,' Gerald said.

‘Playing your cards close to your chest, Gerald,' Bourse responded. ‘I have to say, I respect that. But as I am bringing a major investment opportunity to Archer Corporation, I need to understand the leverage we can negotiate with the banks. Greater leverage, greater profits.'

Gerald stared at his hands as Mr Bourse wittered on about capital losses and internal cost transfers. ‘Let's talk big picture,' the banker said. ‘As I have been saying to Mr Prisk and your parents, the future investment strategy of Archer Corporation should be based on shorting insurance stocks. I have inside information that could guarantee all of us significant profits.'

Gerald blinked at the banker. When he was much younger, he used to get out of uncomfortable situations by saying,
I think I can hear my mother calling me.
He was about to give the tactic another go when a miracle happened.

‘Gerald! Where are you, my dear boy?' Gerald's mother was actually calling him. Vi Wilkins hurried into the saloon and was almost out the other side before she noticed her son and Mr Bourse. Mr Prisk, who was following close behind Vi, narrowly missed running into her when she pulled up. ‘There you are!' Vi said, moving decisively to Gerald. ‘Why don't you go off and play, dear. I'm sure Mr Prisk and I can keep Mr Bourse company.'

Birthday presents come in many shapes and guises, but this one was among the best that Gerald could ever remember receiving. ‘I can go?' he asked, scared even to mouth the words in case the opportunity to escape disappeared.

‘Of course,' Vi said, a smile painted on her face as she pulled Gerald out of his chair and pointed him towards the door. ‘It
is
your birthday.' She ushered him to the entryway and, just as she was about to push Gerald outside, whispered in his ear, ‘You didn't tell him anything important, did you?' She shot an anxious glance over her shoulder. ‘About the family business, or anything else for that matter?'

Gerald shook his head. ‘I didn't understand a word he was saying. I don't think I actually said anything.'

Vi nodded to herself. ‘Excellent. Marvellous.'

‘Mum?' Gerald said. ‘Why is he here? It's not like he's one of your friends.'

Vi patted Gerald on the arm. ‘Mr Bourse has some exciting plans he needs to discuss with the grown-ups. It's certainly nothing for a boy on his fourteenth birthday to be worried about. Now, you go have some fun.'

Gerald shrugged. He would just add the experience to the growing list of adult weirdness that he had accumulated over the past year. He was about to dash out to the rear deck to dive in after Sam when he realised he wasn't wearing swimmers. He jogged to the central stairwell and raced up two levels. And as he turned into
the corridor that led to his suite, he caught a flash of movement at the far end of the passage: the merest hint of a foot disappearing around a corner. He didn't give it a second's thought, until he opened his cabin door.

The place looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. Bedsheets were thrown against one wall, cushions and pillows piled in a corner. Clothes were strewn about as if the wardrobe had vomited across the carpet. Then he saw the painting above his bed. The picture that hid the safe swung ajar on its hinge.

Gerald jumped onto the mattress and tried the safe door: it was shut tight. He spun the dial, popped the locks and peered inside. Gerald frowned and pulled out the bundles of banknotes. He retrieved the plastic bags containing the coded note from Jeremy Davey and the folded plans for the curiosity machine. While the rest of the room looked as if it had been spat out of a tumble drier, the contents of the safe were intact. Everything was precisely where Gerald had left it that morning.

‘Curious,' he muttered to himself. He could not shake the feeling that Sir Mason Green was somehow staring over his shoulder. Gerald shot a glance at the television on the wall. The screen was blank.

Gerald replaced everything in the safe, swung the door shut with a solid
thunk
of tempered steel, and turned the combination. He tested the handle. Twice. It was definitely locked. Gerald pushed the painting back into place and tried the latch. It held firm.

‘Curious,' he muttered again.

Gerald took another look around the mess on the floor. He crossed to the shambles of clothing on the carpet, kicked through a tangle of shirts and underwear and fished out a pair of board shorts. He pulled them on and was about to close the cabin door when he paused, reached around and took a cardboard sign that swung from a cord on the door handle. He slung it onto the front of the door and ran off down the corridor, leaving the sign swinging in place:
Please make up my room
.

‘Are you sure you didn't just leave the place a bit untidy?' Ruby asked. ‘You can be a bit of a pig, you know.'

Ruby lay back on an enormous inflatable dolphin, bobbing in the clear water that lapped at the golden sand of the island shore. She rolled onto her front and let her hands trail in the shallows.

Gerald shook his head. ‘I tell you, the room had been turned over. Even I couldn't make that much of a mess.'

‘But you said nothing was missing,' Felicity said, floating by on a giant purple unicorn. ‘So it's not a robbery, is it?'

Gerald screwed up his face. Why were Felicity and Ruby so painfully logical?

‘Look,' Gerald said, ‘the room was broken into, the painting hiding the safe was hanging open and all of my
stuff was thrown everywhere. It looked like a TV crime scene. The only thing missing was the chalk outline of a body.'

‘You say there was bundles of cash, but nothing was taken?' Ruby said.

‘Well, no.'

‘And the plan for the curiosity machine and Jeremy Davey's note are still there?' Felicity said. ‘Locked in the safe.'

‘Um…yes.'

‘Not much of a crime then, is it?' Ruby said. ‘First-degree untidiness.'

Sam's head broke through the surface close to Ruby's inflatable dolphin, a diving mask across his face. He spat out a snorkel mouthpiece and said, ‘Are you still going on about the crime of the century? You know what probably happened? You were digging around this morning looking for some clothes and you left a pile on the floor. Then when you put the plan for the curiosity machine back into the safe you didn't close the door properly so when the boat ran over a wave it popped open. Simple as that.'

‘When we ran over a wave?' Gerald said, unconvinced.

‘Sure,' Sam said. ‘Like the
Titanic
and the iceberg, just on a really tiny scale.'

Ruby leaned down and patted Sam on the head. ‘That's a remarkably rational explanation,' she said.

‘You worry too much about things, Gerald,' Felicity said. ‘We're in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and a million miles from anywhere. We know the plans are safely locked away, so that's a good thing. All you should be worrying about is what superhero costume you're going to wear to the party and whether to wear your underpants on the inside or the outside.'

Gerald ran his hands back and forth through the water, swirling eddies between his fingers. Now would be the perfect time to tell his friends about the video call from Sir Mason Green. But they were in the middle of the largest expanse of water on the planet. How could Sir Mason Green possibly reach him there? ‘All right,' Gerald said after a moment. ‘But I get to wear my underpants on the outside.'

Gerald looked long and hard at the full-length mirror, swivelling left and right to get a better view of his costume. No matter what angle he viewed himself from, there was no escaping the fact that he looked a colossal goose. He wore a bright blue lycra bodysuit with red jockey pants on the outside, and a golden G emblazoned on his chest, with crossed lightning bolts highlighted in silver sequins and glitter.

Felicity poked her head out from where the girls were getting dressed in the bathroom to check on Gerald's
progress. ‘Is it safe to come out yet?' she asked, then choked back a laugh. ‘Oh goodness. What are you supposed to be? Super Gerald?'

Gerald took another look at his reflection and sighed at what looked back at him. ‘With all this lycra I look like I've joined Team Dork Cycling.'

Felicity let out a bell-like laugh. ‘If it's any consolation, Gerald, all cyclists in lycra ride for Team Dork. You look very dashing. But not quite as dashing as I do.' She stepped from the bathroom. She was clad from the neck down in a skin-tight blue-and-white striped bodysuit. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a long plait that fell between her shoulders. A stark purple ‘F' was stitched to her chest.