Adam and the Arkonauts (12 page)

‘Very lucky,' agreed Adam. ‘For you.'

‘Me?'

‘Yes. You'd be no match for General Lepti's platoon,' Adam explained. ‘They'd have overpowered you in less than a minute. Army ants can disable any creature that gets in their path. They'd swarm up your legs, biting and stinging. You'd be helpless within a couple of minutes.'

‘Could they do that to anyone – say, just for the sake of argument, a security guard in a bank?'

‘You said you were retired.'

‘So I did, so I did,' the old man agreed. ‘But you can't stop your brain from wondering, can you? It's only natural.'

‘I suppose,' said Adam. ‘But the Doctor would be very angry if he thought that his scientific work was being used for criminal purposes.'

‘The Doctor,' said Calico Jack, remembering. ‘What are we doing sitting about chatting? We need to –'

PHEEP! PHEEP! PHEEP!

Adam looked round. Rushing across the wharf towards the
Ark of the Parabola
was what appeared to be the entire Buenos Sueños Police Force – again.

Adam turned back.

‘Calico Jack? Grandad?'

There was no reply. Calico Jack wasn't answering to any name now. He'd vanished, leaving Adam to face the police all alone.

.

CHAPTER 19

While the rest of the police force stayed at the side of the wharf, Chief of Police Grivas, accompanied by Officer Grivas, strode up the gangplank towards Adam.

‘Hand him over,' he growled, pausing to light one of his fat cigars. Even in the open air, Adam could taste its foul black smoke.

‘Hand who over?' he said nervously.

‘Harbouring an escaped convict is a very serious crime according to the Buenos Sueños Crime and Punishment Code.'

Adam gulped. They knew about his grandfather already.

‘Did you see that?' said Chief Grivas, who had interrogated many suspects in his time. ‘That was a gulp of guilt.'

‘It wasn't,' Adam protested. ‘I don't know where Calico Jack is, I promise you.'

A broad smile broke out on the face of Chief Grivas. ‘Who said anything about Calico Jack, chico?'

Adam was horrified.

‘I was going to show you this –' the Chief of Police pulled a photo of Adam's grandfather from the top pocket of his uniform ‘– but now I see that I don't have to. Tell us where Calico Jack is and perhaps things will not be so bad for you.'

Adam opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

As Chief Grivas took a long puff on his cigar and stared hard at Adam, two green shapes swooped down and landed on the barrel next to him.

‘I said, I said, I said, are you a policeman?' squawked Gogo.

‘Shouldn't it be “I say, I say, I say”?' Pozzo cawed.

‘I'm speaking in the past tense,' explained Gogo.

‘I was in the past tense,' said Pozzo. ‘But then I stopped worrying and learned to relax.'

The parrots paused for some applause. Instead, after a nod from the Chief of Police, who was obviously above dealing with birds himself, Officer Grivas took a wary step towards them.

‘Shoo!' he said.

‘Shoe to you,' Gogo chirped back.

‘And socks too,' added Pozzo.

‘Go away!' ordered Officer Grivas, waving his hands.

‘Which way?' asked Gogo, stroking his crest with his wing.

‘I warn you, parrots,' said Officer Grivas, ‘if you don't fly away, you'll soon be under arrest.'

‘I'm exhausted,' cheeped Pozzo. ‘A rest is just what I could do with.'

Chief Grivas, furious at seeing one of his officers being outwitted by two cheeky parrots, could resist no longer. Forgetting his dignity for a moment, he pulled his cigar from his mouth and prodded it at Gogo and Pozzo, who wisely fluttered just out of reach.

‘Listen, parrots,' he said threateningly. ‘This is Buenos Sueños. And in Buenos Sueños all parrots should say, “Who's a pretty boy, then?”'

Gogo and Pozzo looked at each other and shook their beaks.

‘Why would we say that?' said Gogo.

‘When you're so old and ugly,' explained Pozzo.

Chief Grivas secretly spent many hours preening in front of a mirror he kept in his desk back at police headquarters, and he was not prepared to tolerate being insulted by parrots. He reached for his gun.

Gogo and Pozzo decided that it was time to bring their act to an end. Before the Chief of Police could take aim, they flew high up into the rigging.

Adam watched, wishing that he could do the same, as Chief Grivas turned grimly towards him.

‘Back to where we were before we were so rudely interrupted, chico. Tell me where Calico Jack is and tell me now.'

Adam didn't know what to say.

‘Er . . . um . . . ah . . .'

Chief Grivas continued to stare.

‘Ah . . . er . . . um . . .'

Changing the order of his meaningless noises didn't seem to help, but Adam was willing to give it a go anyway.

‘Last chance, chico,' said Chief Grivas. ‘Or it's prison –'

‘Holy moly, jeepers creepers, Mason Dixon and pretzels!'

Standing on deck was a fat man wearing sunglasses, a T-shirt and a pair of bright Bermuda shorts, with a camera dangling from his neck. Adam had no idea where he had come from.

He took one look at the police officers.

‘Stars and stripes, ticker tape and the great plains, am I glad to see you!' he said, proffering a paw-like hand in the direction of Chief Grivas.

‘We are in the middle of an interrogation,' said Grivas icily. ‘Please go –'

‘Clackburger. Wyoming T. Clackburger III,' said Wyoming T. Clackburger, grasping the Chief of Police's hand and shaking it hard. ‘Mighty pleased to make your acquaintance.'

‘I am –' Chief Grivas began.

‘The answer to my prayers,' finished Wyoming T. Clackburger III. ‘I tell you, I've been wandering round this here town for three days trying to find somewhere to buy a chilli dog, burger and fries. What is it about you foreigners? Don't you like grease and fat?'

‘We like vegetables,' said Officer Grivas.

‘Vegetables.' Clackburger scratched his head in confusion. ‘You can eat them?'

Officer Grivas nodded.

‘Goodness gracious, great balls of fire! But they've been in the ground with insects and grubs. That can't be healthy. You need to get munching on an all-American chilli dog and burger and supersize fries with extra mayo. Then maybe y'all would look like people instead of sticks.'

Chief Grivas scrutinised Wyoming T. Clackburger suspiciously.

‘What are you doing here?'

‘I told ya,' answered Clackburger, ‘I was looking for a hot dog . . .'

‘On a boat?' Chief Grivas's eyes narrowed.

‘I've looked everywhere else,' Clackburger explained, waving his hands impatiently in the air. ‘I gotta tell you, a-wop-bop-a-loo-lop-a-lop-bamboo, you gotta improve your provision when it comes to fast-food catering. I'm an American with an appetite. I can't be waiting for vegetables to grow. I need meat now!'

‘You expect me to believe this preposterous story,' said Chief Grivas.

‘Listen, buddy,' said Wyoming T. Clackburger III, prodding a finger firmly in Chief Grivas's chest. ‘If it's a matter of money, I can give you money. Just get me a chilli dog. Here.' He reached into his back pocket. ‘Hey! What's going on here?' he shouted angrily. ‘Someone's stolen my wallet. I'm an American tourist who's been the victim of a robbery.'

‘Are you really a tourist?' said Chief Grivas sceptically. ‘They don't normally come to Buenos Sueños.'

‘He does look like a tourist,' Officer Grivas observed. ‘Señor Gozo at the tourist information kiosk told me they wear horrible shorts and take photographs of everything and they are always losing their wallets.'

‘That's what he told me too,' added Adam.

‘Silence!' Officer Grivas shouted at him.

Chief Grivas looked at Wyoming T. Clackburger and weighed up the evidence.

‘Say full-fat cheese!' said Clackburger, and the flash of a camera blinded the two policemen.

The photograph finally convinced the Chief of Police.

‘I'll show this picture to my daughter Mary-Beth Jo Honey-Pie when I get back to the States,' said Wyoming T. Clackburger. ‘A picture of the two guys who rushed off to find the wallet of a helpless American tourist in a strange fat-free land.'

‘Report your loss to the police station tomorrow morning, señor. I am now going to search this ship for an escaped convict,' the Chief of Police thundered.

Adam gulped. If Chief Grivas searched the
Ark of the Parabola
, not only would he find his grandfather, he would also find the Arkonauts. And Adam was pretty sure that he'd find some reason for impounding them all, as he had Sniffage.

Wyoming T. Clackburger III seemed to notice Adam for the first time.

‘I suppose they've shown you their search warrant, have they, kid?'

‘Their search warrant?' Adam repeated. ‘No.'

‘Well, I ain't no high-paid Manhattan lawyer, but, if I was, then I might say that without a search warrant they can't search the ship.'

‘What are you talking about?' interrupted Chief Grivas. ‘No such provision is required by the Buenos Sueños Crime and Punishment Code.'

Clackburger shook his head.

‘Maybe not, Chief.' And he walked to the rail and looked over the side.

‘However, from what I can tell, we're in the water about a metre outside of Buenos Sueños. Here it's the law of the sea.'

Chief Grivas's mouth dropped open. For a moment it looked as though he was going to collapse. Without the Buenos Sueños Crime and Punishment Code, he was nothing.

‘But I don't know the law of the sea,' he admitted weakly.

‘Well, I guess you'd better go and do some swotting,' said Clackburger. ‘And while you're about it, I'd be mighty grateful if you'd keep an eye out for my wallet. Have a nice day.'

Speechless, Chief of Police Grivas, followed by Officer Grivas, departed the
Ark of the Parabola
. Adam watched as they led the rest of the police force back into the narrow streets of Buenos Sueños.

‘Wow!' said Adam. ‘Thanks, Mr Clackburger.'

‘Mr who?'

Adam turned sharply round. Wyoming T. Clackburger had suddenly lost his American accent. His voice sounded very much like . . .

‘Grandad!'

‘What did I tell you about that name?'

‘Sorry. Calico Jack! But how did you . . . ? You're tanned. Your hair is a different colour. Your clothes.'

‘Don't tell anybody else this,' said his grandfather, ‘but I never go anywhere without a dressing-up case and my make-up box. Then all you need is a new accent and you can be someone different whenever you want.'

Adam was amazed at the change in his grandfather's appearance. But there was one thing that make-up and dressing up didn't explain.

‘But you're so much fatter,' he said.

‘Bit of inspiration there,' said his grandfather, shooting a quick glance towards the city to make sure the policemen were out of sight. He pulled up his T-shirt. Hanging from his shoulders, her face buried in his chest, was Simia.

‘You can get down now,' he said.

‘Not a moment too soon,' said the monkey, dropping straight on to the deck.

‘But how . . . ?' began Adam.

‘I wagered that if they could understand you, then they could understand me,' explained Calico Jack. ‘I told them that if they didn't provide me with some extra bulk, the police would be searching the
Ark
and taking them off to the pound.'

‘Them?'

‘Oh, I almost forgot.' Jack swung round. Hanging down his back, fast asleep, was Malibu.

‘Wow!' said Adam.

‘What is it?'

‘You've done something nobody else has ever managed,' said Adam. ‘You've made Malibu help. He's been on this boat five years and he's never done anything useful before.'

‘I resent that,' yowled Malibu, opening one eye. And to demonstrate his readiness for action, the cat promptly nuzzled his head back into the gap between Calico Jack's shoulder blades and fell asleep.

Adam picked him up and placed him on the barrel where he normally slept.

‘I hope you noticed,' chattered Simia, ‘that no human could have clung on as long as I did without moving. Upper-arm strength. Another thing you lost when you came out of the trees and started all that unnecessary upright walking. Didn't think about your arms, did you? Hanging down by your sides for generation after generation, doing nothing. They've got so weak they're practically useless.'

‘Hardly useless,' Adam protested.

‘And don't even get me started on the way you let your tail waste away.' she went on, jabbing her finger critically at him.

‘Don't blame me!' cried Adam defensively. ‘I never had a tail in the first place.'

‘That's what you say.' The monkey sounded dubious.

‘Hey! Calm down!'

Adam's grandfather couldn't understand anything that was being said, but he could tell from the agitated tone of the discussion and Simia's aggressive body language that they were having some kind of disagreement.

Adam and Simia eyed each other angrily.

‘She's always going on at me for not having a tail,' moaned Adam. ‘Or laughing because I've got no fur.'

‘We can't be thinking about that now,' said his grandfather. ‘We may have seen off the police for now, but I know from experience that they have a nasty habit of coming back – usually with evidence and witnesses. And handcuffs. So we must rescue the Doctor as quickly as we can.'