"Ooof!" he said.
But someone swung him up again almost before he knew what had happened. Struggling feebly, he was half carried, half dragged toward another car. When he protested, he was told to calm down.
"It's all right," said a strange voice. "You're safe now."
Next thing, he was climbing onto leather-upholstered seats. Someone was offering him a sweatshirt and saying, "Here. You must be cold." Clutching the sweatshirt dazedly, he peered into the night. There were
three
cars, all told, and twice as many people—shadowy figures Cadel didn't recognize. Beyond them he could just make out a narrow alley between high brick walls. The asphalt looked slick and sticky. Everyone was talking in muted accents, though the alarm was still wailing. Cadel heard a car door slam before a large form suddenly heaved itself into the driver's seat in front of him.
It was Wilfreda.
"Hello," she said, looking back. Her face was in shadow, so he couldn't make out her expression.
Whump!
went her door.
He gaped at her, unable to speak.
"It's all right now," she informed him, turning her ignition key. "No need to worry anymore."
Around them, the other cars were also starting their engines. One began to move, gathering speed quickly.
But Wilfreda seemed to be waiting for something—or someone.
Cadel found out who, when Thaddeus Roth slid into the backseat, next to him.
"All right, Wilfreda," the psychologist said calmly. "Let's go."
Cadel's guts seemed to dissolve. He experienced an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude, even though, at the same time, a warning bell was sounding in his brain. As their car split away from the convoy, purring off down a side street, Cadel stared up at the familiar beaky nose and hollow cheeks. The gleam of the streetlights, as they whizzed past, wove a flickering pattern on one side of the psychologist's face.
"Th-Thaddeus," he stammered.
"Put that top on, Cadel," Thaddeus replied quietly. "You don't want to get cold."
Obediently, Cadel pulled the sweatshirt down over his head. It was far too big for him. Thaddeus began to roll the sleeves up, with neat, practiced movements.
"How did you know where I was?" asked Cadel faintly.
"Give me a little credit, dear boy."
"They jumped me at the house—"
"Yes. Gazo told me."
"
Gazo
told you?"
"I don't know what you've done to that fellow, Cadel, but he's positively smitten." Thaddeus sounded amused. "Apparently, after he dropped you off at the Piggotts', he had second thoughts. Went back to check on you, he said. Found the remains of the housekeeper. Came tearing out to Yarramundi to raise the alarm. Knew I was there, for some reason." A ghost of a chuckle. "Not a tool that
I
would have chosen, but he's proven to be of some use."
"It was Max," said Cadel, rambling a bit. "He was scared."
"I'm aware of that."
"What happened? I thought I was being followed..."
"Grunts will be Grunts," said Thaddeus in chillingly flat tones. "It comes of sending a moron to do a man's work. They parked outside your house and watched you go in. When Max arrived to pick you up, they let him walk right up to their car, the idiots. Didn't think he was any kind of threat. Naturally, they got a couple of shots between the eyes as a result." Thaddeus placed a gentle hand on Cadel's curls before declaring, without expression, "At least they got what they deserved."
Cadel wasn't shocked. He didn't have the energy. Instead he began to shiver; he couldn't seem to stop. He felt the weight of Thaddeus's hand leave his head and an arm tighten around his shoulders.
"You're all right," said Thaddeus.
"I'm c-c-cold."
"It's the shock." Thaddeus struggled out of his jacket, which he draped around Cadel's hunched form. "Here. Is that better?"
"I used my shirt for the fire," Cadel went on, his words and thoughts both strangely sluggish. "I lit a fire..."
"But of course you did. I'd have expected nothing less."
After that, Cadel subsided. He even dozed off. When he woke up, he found himself draped across the psychologist's lap. The car was still moving.
"Where are we?" he mumbled, struggling upright.
"Nearly there," said Thaddeus.
"Nearly where?"
"Nearly at my house."
Something clenched inside Cadel's stomach. He squinted out of the window but saw only darkness. Then all at once the car swerved. It left the smooth asphalt and bounced onto something rough. Cadel could hear gravel crackling under the tires.
They were on a curved driveway. Cadel saw it spotlit by their headlights, which also swept across low bushes, flicked past tree trunks, and finally came to rest on a large, two-story house with a lot of shining windows. The engine died. Thaddeus opened the door beside him.
"You can get out now, Cadel," he said.
Clumsily, Cadel struggled out of the car after Thaddeus. As soon as his bare feet touched the gravel, he became aware of a salty smell and a rhythmic hissing noise.
"What's that sound?" he gasped.
"The sea," said Thaddeus.
Cadel froze. The sea! Why were they at the sea? He looked around in sudden fear, unable to penetrate the darkness encroaching on all sides. Were they at the edge of a
cliff
?
He took a step backward.
"Cadel, Cadel." Thaddeus leaned toward him, placing one long, thin hand against his cheek. "What's wrong? You're not afraid of me, are you?" And he laughed a soft laugh that made Cadel's skin crawl.
"I—I want to go home," Cadel whimpered.
"Home?" Thaddeus straightened; his hand dropped. "What home? Oh, you mean that silly-looking house where James Guisnel and Sue Croft live? I'm afraid that's out of bounds for the moment, Cadel. Until we clean up the mess. Mrs. Ang was there, you see. When Max's men paid their little visit."
Mrs. Ang?
James Guisnel
? Cadel couldn't cope anymore. He began to shake again. How did Thaddeus know that he knew about James Guisnel?
"Let's go in now." Thaddeus closed his long fingers around Cadel's arm. "We need to warm you up. And you could do with a bath as well, I think."
Nudged forward, Cadel limped toward the house. Thaddeus, however, noticed his uneven gait at once.
"What is it?" the psychologist said sharply. "Did they hurt you?"
"It's my foot..."
"
Vadi!
" Thaddeus called, and the front door opened. Silhouetted against the dazzle of a chandelier was a slim, broad-shouldered figure in a tailcoat. It moved toward them down several flights of steps, which appeared to be chiseled into solid bedrock.
"Vadi, this is Cadel," Thaddeus said, as the mysterious figure stopped in front of them. "I want you to carry him inside. Wilfreda! Where are you?"
"I'm here," said a voice in the shadows.
"Get a room ready, will you?"
"Yes, sir."
Cadel was scooped up by the man in the tailcoat, who turned out to be young and stony-faced, with dusky skin and long, dark eyes that struck Cadel as being slightly peculiar. Cadel got a good look at him as soon as they entered the house, which was lit up like a Christmas tree; he saw that the peculiarity lay not so much in the man's eyes but in his eyelids. It was something about the way he blinked.
The blinks were so rapid, however, that Cadel couldn't put his finger on why they disturbed him.
"In here," said Thaddeus, gesturing. "Put him on the couch."
Vadi obeyed. As he was carried along, Cadel had a confused impression of large spaces, vivid tapestries, and gleaming marble floors. He was finally deposited in a downstairs room that contained a fur rug, a stone wall with a fireplace embedded in it, and hectares of floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the windows lay nothing but darkness. Cadel could see himself reflected in one of the huge expanses of glass, along with the bronze sculptures and wing chairs and bright paintings that surrounded him.
"Go and run a bath, will you, Vadi?" said Thaddeus.
"Yes, sir."
"I'll just take a look at this foot."
While Cadel fell back into the well-stuffed cushions of a massive built-in sofa, Thaddeus knelt beside him and took his swollen foot carefully in one bony hand.
"Can you move it?" asked Thaddeus.
"Yes."
"Wiggle your toes."
Cad el obeyed. Then Thaddeus pressed his thumbs against ankle and instep until Cadel yelped.
"You've got a bruised bone," said the psychologist. "Or maybe even a hairline fracture. But there's nothing much you can do about that, except take it easy." He dropped the foot. "Ice won't help much at this late stage, though a painkiller might. You can take one after your bath." He smiled as he regarded Cadel, a glint in his eye. "I don't know what clothes I'm going to put you in. Do you know, Cadel, I never cease to get a little shock every time I see you? It's because you're so small. How can someone so small wreak such havoc? I find it endlessly surprising."
He rose and parked himself on the couch next to Cadel, crossing his legs.
"I suppose the first thing I'd better do is apologize," he went on. "If I'd been a little quicker, this wouldn't have happened. I was caught up at Yarramundi. Well, I don't have to tell
you
about that."
A pause. Thaddeus seemed to expect a comment from Cadel, but Cadel just stared mutely.
"As far as I can make out," Thaddeus finally said, "it all happened because Adolf lost his cool. Had this idea in his head that there was a dangerous conspiracy brewing. He put a tail on Luther and of course Luther spotted it. Made him antsy. And then after the business with Tracey, the police questioned Terry, and
he
got a bit nervous. Decided to clear out a lot of the stuff in the labs. Called Luther about it, naturally. Wanted to dump some of the stuff on him. Well, it's Luther's area of expertise, isn't it? Disposing of bodies." Thaddeus surveyed Cadel with hooded eyes, waiting. Cadel, however, had nothing to say. "Poor Terry wasn't security conscious," Thaddeus continued. "Didn't realize that he was being watched. When the Grunts saw what he was doing, they jumped him. I don't know exactly what Adolf thought Terry was up to. Something suspicious, at any rate. So he hauled the poor fellow off to Yarramundi to be interrogated, and used his car as a decoy. Drove it to Luther's house, got Luther to come down, and ambushed him. Am I right so far?"
"I—I don't know," Cadel stammered.
"Don't you? I find that hard to believe. Personally, I've put it together from some of the security tapes, and what I've been told by one or two of the Grunts who've surfaced. Oh yes—they haven't fared well. The ones who captured Luther didn't make it far. He escaped, and left them in pieces. Then he got into the armory, and there was an all-out battle between Luther and Adolf. I don't know who escaped and who's left in the rubble. Not yet. Adolf, Terry, Luther: They've all vanished. A really elegant solution." Thaddeus leaned forward. "How did you do it, Cadel?" he asked.
Cadel caught his breath. "I—I didn't," he gasped.
"My dear boy, you don't have to lie to me. I've been keeping very close tabs on you. I know you've been surfing the Axis network. I know you planted Max's account details in Brendan's computer files. And Brendan—that was masterly. What did you
do
to him, Cadel?"
Cadel's lips began to tremble. His eyes filled with tears. "I don't
know,
" he squeaked.
"Of course you do.
And
you know all about that recording of Terry's phone call. Not to mention Alias." Thaddeus shook his head. "The way you arranged it so that Art would buy a gun using one of Alias's aliases—because he didn't want anyone to trace him—and then leave the same gun at the scene of the shooting, meaning that Max would think Alias had killed one of his hired thugs and go after
both
of them—Alias
and
Art. I'm speechless. Really. You're a genius, Cadel."
"I had nothing to do with that," Cadel croaked. "Honestly." He was overwhelmed by the sheer size of what he'd done. By accident. Not that it had all been an accident, but he had never intended to
kill
anybody. Didn't Thaddeus understand that?
It seemed not. The psychologist reached out and laid a hand on Cadel's arm.
"Cadel," he said softly, "do you think I care? I'm not angry with you. I'm proud of you. You
wiped out the institute,
Cadel. It's astonishing." His smile grew until it was a wolfish grin. "Not that I wasn't expecting it. I had a feeling, somehow. And when you found out about the Piggotts—well, it was inevitable. A very natural reaction."
"How—how—"
"How did I know you'd found out? Oh, you said something to James at one point. He asked you how you'd spent your day, and you answered—what was it? Something along the lines of 'as if you didn't know.' Of course, it was bound to happen. I warned Phineas, over and over again. I said to him, 'The penny's going to drop one day. And when it does, you'd better watch out, because he's going to feel betrayed, Phineas. After so many years living with those monsters.' It was never
my
idea, Cadel. I wanted you with me. But Phineas had this idea in his head—he didn't want you getting too attached to me. He didn't want you getting too attached to anyone. I told him it would backfire in the end. Needless to say, though, our friend didn't listen. He very rarely does." Thaddeus's smiled faded, to be replaced by a grim look. "Which is why he's where he is now."
Cadel blinked.
"It was the same with the Axis Institute." Thaddeus spoke quietly. He was staring at the stone wall, his long fingers coiled around Cadel's arm, his tone distracted. "All along, I've thought it an absurd proposition. Destined for disaster. Though it did occur to me, early on, that you might find it a challenge. So I sat back and waited for you to bring it down. Which you did, in a matter of months. You passed the test with flying colors." His gaze returned to Cadel, bright and black and piercing. "You are greater than Phineas ever was, or ever will be," he said. "You're a miracle. I was afraid that, in the Piggotts' care, you wouldn't reach your full potential. But I have to admit, I underestimated you. I don't believe you would have done any better even if I
had
taken you in."