Hydrofoil Mystery (18 page)

What was I supposed to do? I pressed myself against the building and tried to think. If only this had been a poker game I'd have known what to do. When you don't know what your opponent is holding but you know you have nothing, you either fold or bluff. Folding was easy; I could just run. Maybe I needed to bluff. But first I had to try to sneak a peek at the other guy's hand.

I circled around to the back of the building. There was a small window, big enough to vent fumes but not big enough for anybody to climb through. I eased up to the window and looked in. At first, I saw nothing, and then the beam of light swept across the building. I couldn't make out the figure holding the flashlight, but as far as I could see in the darkness there was only the one person. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it close to the hydrofoil.

I'd taken as much of a look as I could at the other guy's hand. Now—should I fold or bluff? There was only one choice.

I bent down and searched the ground. I found a large rock, and then a second and a third. I stood up, pulled back my arm and threw the largest of the rocks at the window. It hit the glass with a resounding smash. I shifted one of the two remaining rocks to my throwing hand and used it to bang against the side of the building. There was a scream of surprise from inside the boathouse. I sprinted a dozen feet and flung myself into the bushes. I was desperate for air but I didn't dare take a breath. I heard the sound of feet hitting gravel, and then it faded away. Whoever it was, he was gone! I felt safe, hidden in the bushes, surrounded by darkness. I could just lie here until Casey arrived. Unless of course the villain had already done his business before he left. Maybe there was a fire already burning, so small I couldn't see it yet, so small I could put it out before it became too large … but if I lay in the bushes it would just grow and grow and … I got up. I'd come too far to not go the rest of the way.

I walked quickly around the side of the building. I still clutched a rock in each hand and I squeezed the one in my right hand tightly. David only had one rock when he met Goliath. I had two. I was sure I'd heard feet running away … right? The door was still open and on the ground rested the lock to the boathouse. I bent down, dropped one of the rocks and picked up the lock, which had been snapped in two, probably by a pair of powerful bolt-cutters. I dropped the lock back to the ground.

Turning toward the entrance to the boathouse, the interior showed as a deeper dark. I leaned in and felt around with my hand until I found a switch. I flicked it, and the entire building was drenched in light. Terrified, I scanned
the room. Nobody was there, and nothing seemed out of place. The
HD
-4 slept peacefully. I looked back over my shoulder, into the night, took a deep breath and stepped into the building.

Everything looked just as we'd left it when we'd locked up earlier that evening. I must have surprised him before he'd had a chance to do what he'd planned. I thought I should look at the hydrofoil more closely. I climbed up the ladder and peered into the cockpit. It looked fine. I jumped back down and moved over to the foils. Had he cut them again? I ran my hand up and down along the edges. I didn't feel anything and it looked fine. I took a rock and tapped it against the metal. It echoed back in a solid metallic tone. Just to be completely sure, I bent down to see if there was any trace of filings on the floor. I swept my hand along the floor; there was nothing, not even dust. Then I saw something, partially hidden by the rails, right in the middle of the tracks, directly under the
HD
-4.

I crawled underneath. Strips of torn up newspaper were lying in a pile. He had been going to start another fire! I reached out and grabbed at the shredded paper. As I moved it I saw there were other objects, about the size and shape of cigars, buried underneath. I picked one up and brought it close. What was it?

The roar of a truck engine came rumbling through the door and I straightened up and bashed my head on the bottom of the hydrofoil.

“Ouch!” I screamed.

I crawled out from under the
HD
-4. My one hand still held the strange object while I rubbed my head with the
other. I ran for the door and got there in time to see the truck squeal to a stop. Mr. Bell, Casey and half a dozen men, including the two guards, climbed out of the doors or jumped off the back. I was awfully happy to see them and gave a big wave.

“Are you all right, William? Is everything all right?” Mr. Bell asked anxiously.

“Yeah, there was somebody here, but I chased him away. Unfortunately I didn't see who it was. It sounded like he ran off that way,” I said, pointing down to the lake.

Mr. Bell turned to the two guards, standing there holding their rifles. “It's probably too late, but go after him anyway.” They vanished into the darkness.

“What happened to them?” I asked.

“They saw the flames and went to investigate,” Mr. Bell said.

“Investigate,” Casey scoffed. “They were curious and wanted to have a look.”

“Don't be too hard on them,” Mr. Bell cautioned. “They were doing the best they could and … William … I want you to stay very calm.”

“Calm? Of course I'm calm. Why wouldn't I be calm now?”

“I don't want anybody to argue with me or even question my words. I want everybody to back away from where William and I are standing,” Mr. Bell said quietly.

With expressions that matched my confusion, the men, with the exception of Casey, backed off, leaving us in a large semicircle.

“You too, Casey,” Mr. Bell said.

“Sorry, Alec, I can't do that. I think I know what William's holding, too.”

“Holding? What am I holding?” I asked, looking at the object.

“Carefully, William, hold it carefully!” Mr. Bell paused. “I'm not certain but I believe it is an explosive.”

“Explosive!” I hissed, holding it away from myself. “Yes. Now I want you to give me your other hand and we're going to take a little walk.”

“A walk,” I echoed vacantly.

He took my hand and I followed along like a balloon on the end of a string. He led me straight for the water. Did he want me to toss it into the lake? To my surprise Mr. Bell stepped into the water.

“What are you doing?' I gasped.

“Don't talk, just walk with me,” he said quietly.

I took a step into the shallows and a shiver ran up my leg. Mr. Bell led me into deeper water. A wave washed up over my knees. We continued to move. I shuddered as it slopped over my waist.

“Okay, William, lower your arm into the water and just let the charge go. Once it hits the water it'll be neutralized, even if it has a detonating cap.”

I did as I was ordered, immersed my arm in the cold water, uncurled my fingers and released the stick of explosive.

Chapter Seventeen

I
TURNED AND TWISTED
and struggled to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The room was like an oven and I was bathed in sweat. The last few days had been hot. A couple of the locals, people who'd lived in Baddeck all their lives, said they couldn't ever remember it getting this hot. And there was no escape from the heat.

Working in the boathouse was even worse than being in my bedroom. The sun beat down on the metal roof all day, and when we left for the evening it would be sealed up as tight as a drum, trapping the hot air inside. In the morning, when the guards opened the door, the hot air would rush out.

Since the last attempt to destroy the
HD
-4 and the discovery of the explosives, a special kind of explosive more powerful than the army's dynamite, the guarding of the craft had been taken over by the military. In shifts of six, unsmiling, serious, scowling soldiers stood on all sides of the boathouse. They'd turned the building into a bunker, surrounding it with sandbag walls that reached almost as high as my head. It should have made me feel safer to be surrounded by a circle of soldiers and sand, but instead I just felt more uneasy. It was now impossible to forget, even for a second, what had happened. And that
was what was keeping me awake that night, as much as the heat.

Along with the soldiers, the police had been around the estate a lot over the last couple of weeks. They had started interviewing all the employees, but Mr. Bell threatened to throw them right off his property. He said he'd rather burn the
HD
-4 himself than have anybody falsely accuse his staff of wrongdoing. Corporal O'Malley did not take any of this too kindly. He didn't strike me as the sort of person who was accustomed to being told no.

A thread of cooler air tickled my face. The curtain swayed ever so gently. I rolled off the bed and went to the window, hoping I could somehow coax in, or capture, another waft of wind. The window was open as far as it could go, propped in place with a piece of twoby-four. I'd even removed the screen because I didn't want anything to interfere with air coming in. I wasn't worried about bugs; they seemed to be too hot to fly. Unfortunately, the vines growing up the trellis blocked off a little bit of the space. I pushed some leaves back and peered out past the main house to the water. Out at the view that the Bells shared with me.

I thought about how nice and cool the water would be … how nice it would feel to submerge my body in it and just let every pore drink up the cool … but I was soon startled out of my reverie. Out on the water, a green light flashed three times rapidly. It was strange to think somebody might be fishing or travelling at this time of night. And if it were a boat, it would leave the lights on as running lights, not switch them on and off like that. Who knows? It could have been a lot of things, including my imagination.

Casey had accused me of letting my thoughts get carried away, although he was a fine one to talk! We'd continued to discuss our belief that the acts of sabotage were being undertaken by somebody here at the estate. I'd listened in on conversations, followed behind people and even tried putting a glass to the wall. All I'd found out was how stupid you feel when you put a glass against your … The three green flashes appeared again! This time there was no mistaking them. It seemed clear what they were: a signal. Somebody out on the water was trying to signal somebody else. Maybe somebody here on shore. Who were they signalling, and what were they trying to say? I knew the
HD
-4 was safe. The unsmiling soldiers would be standing guard all through the night until the next shift arrived at eight in the morning. The lights called once again! There seemed to be a pattern. About once a minute they were flashing.

On bare feet I padded almost silently across the floor. There was enough light to make out my pants and shirt draped over the chair. I'd stripped down to just my underwear to escape the heat when I was writing my mother a letter before bedtime. I was always careful to leave out all the stories about the dangerous things that had happened. Now, I couldn't help but compose a letter in my head that would explain everything.

Dear Mom,

I'm okay. So far I've almost been beaten up, I've run into a burning building and was almost burned to a crisp, I've chased away a spy and I've held enough explosives to blow a crater in the ground as

big as a house. I'm doing just fine and hope you and Sis are too. I have to stop writing now because I'm watching a mysterious signal that I think has something to do with the spy.

All my love,

 William

I chuckled to myself, thinking about her reaction to my imaginary letter, and what my father would think when he finally arrived home and saw it. I'd been sent up here because it was supposed to be safer than being in the city. And everybody was so worried that my father was risking his life at sea! Maybe someday, a long, long time from now, I'd tell them about all the things that had really happened.

I grabbed my shoes and hurried back to the window, arriving just in time to see another series of signals. Whoever it was, was pretty persistent. I slipped on my pants and shirt and then tied up my shoes. I didn't know for what, but I did want to be ready.

It was hard to focus on the blackness of the water, but at least it was slightly cooler by the window, and an occasional wisp of a breeze was my reward. The light continued to call out, and I started to count between signals—every sixty seconds. A couple of times I felt overwhelmed by sleep and my head nodded down for an instant, or possibly more, before I woke up again. It was important to keep watching. Something was happening or going to happen … at least I thought it was.

The lights flashed again: green, red, green … green, red, green! Something had changed. I counted out the
seconds until the next signal was scheduled. I reached sixty and kept on counting. There was nothing. Maybe I was counting too fast, or maybe I'd closed my eyes for just a second and during the blink the lights had escaped my detection. I kept counting, straining my eyes to make out anything out there on the darkened lake. No matter how hard I stared, I couldn't squeeze more lights out of the darkness. Whatever had happened was over. I should just go to bed.

Then I heard the sound. Somebody was trying to move silently down the stairs. The steps answered back noisily. I rose and readied myself to run to the door, fling it open and finally see who was responsible. I took one step and froze; seeing who it was would prove nothing. They could just say they were going out for a walk, or a smoke, unable to sleep, like me, because of the heat.

I turned back to the window and leaned out to try to make out the door at the bottom. I knew I'd be invisible buried beneath the leaves and surrounded by the night. I saw the door, and a glint of thin, weak moonlight bounced off the glass as it opened. There was not nearly enough light to make out who it was, but I could see him cast his gaze all around, like he was checking to see if he was being watched. There were twenty-one of us living in the staff house now. At one point I'd suspected everyone— whether they lived here or away—but there was never anything to any of it. But now … who could it be? He started slowly across the meadow. I had to follow.