Always poring over maps. It's strange how I was the one who traveled the world. I think he liked going places in his head." Shep smiled. "Not your mother, though. She was ready for anything."
"So where did they go?" Amy asked."Normally, I'd space that kind of thing out," Shep admitted. "I fly a lot of people a lot of places, you see.
That's what I do for a living -- I fly tourists around the40outback. But that trip, I remember. Let's see ... I flew them to Adelaide, dropped them off for a few days while I went on to Perth. Then I flew back, picked them up, and we all went up to the Top End.
Darwin. Hey, I bet I still have their itinerary. Lucky
for you, I'm the original pack rat. I don't throw anything away."Gently, Shep dropped Saladin on Dan's lap and got up.
Through the open door, they could see him rummaging in one of the colorful bins.
"Well, would you look at this," he muttered, tossing away a tennis racket. "That's where that went. Never could stand tennis.
Now, I know it's in here someplace.... Aha!"Shep came back, a battered leather jacket over one arm and a thick book in the other. He handed the jacket to Amy. "Here's something of your mother's.
She picked it up at a vintage shop in Darwin. At the last minute she left it with me. She said she had enough baggage to carry. Sure she would want you to have it."It was warm on the patio, but Amy let the weight of the jacket remain on her lap.
Her fingers ran over the leather. Her mother had picked this out. Slipped her arms in the sleeves. Amy would hug it if she could, but she was too embarrassed.
Shep held up the book. "This is my logbook from that year. Let's see now ..." He leafed through it. "I thought so. They gave me an itinerary, just in case, they said. Here."
He held out a piece of paper. Amy recognized her mother's neat handwriting in th
e purple ink she liked to use.
Miami CalcuttaNatal RangoonDakar BangkokKhartoum SingaporeKarachi Darwin"They went to all these places?" Amy asked.
"Round-the-world trip, I guess," Shep said.Dan peered over her shoulder. "How come Sydney isn't there? And Adelaide?""I guess I was the pleasure part of the trip," Shep said with a grin.
Amy put her finger on Miami. "I remember now!" she exclaimed. "They brought us along on the first part of the trip.
We stayed in a hotel on the beach. Dan, you were only about three. Grace came with us, too. I remember crying so hard when they left. I thought I'd
never see them again "Amy's voice trailed off. She remembered her six-year-old self
crying as though her heart would break, feeling abandoned.
She'd been holding Grace's hand, and it scared her when she saw that Grace was crying, too.
Grace never cried.
They had stood in the lobby of the hotel, watching through the glass doors as her parents climbed into a taxi.
She remembered that glass wall between them, so that no matter how hard she cried her mother couldn't hear her."I don't remember a thing," Dan said."No, you were to
o young," Amy said. "They were
gone for a long time
-
I mean, it seemed long, but it was probably about a month. Grace stayed with us."
Amy had a sudden memory of Grace sitting at the window, looking out at the yard.
Her grandmother had looked so worried.
To Amy, it seemed that Grace had felt exactly as she did, lonely and scared. She had climbed into Grace's lap. They'll be home soon, Grace had murmured against her cheek.
Had Grace been trying to reassure herself ... as well as Amy? Had Grace been just as afraid as her grand
-
daughter?
They had to have been on a Cahill mission.
It was no pleasure trip.
They wouldn't have left Dan and Amy for that long if they didn't have to. Amy knew that as a solid truth in her heart."Surprised me when Arthur became a professor," Shep said. "I would have thought anything but that."
"What do you mean?" Dan asked. "What did you think he'd become?""Lion tamer," Shep said, putting his empty mug down with a smack.
He grinned. "Acrobat. Professional race car driver. Bush pilot, like me."Dan hooted with laughter. "You've got to be kidding me."
"When we were kids, Artie was the daredevil," Shep said. "He was always egging me on. Built an obstacle course for our bikes.
Built a tower out of boxes so we could jump into the lake.
Once we built a slide from the garage r
oof. Artie always went first."
"Dad?" Don's voice was close to a squeak.
"Awesome!"Amy looked at Dan. He was sitting up straight in his chair, his eyes sparkling. Hearing about their father always made him happy.
Why did it make her so sad?When you lose your parents, the sadness doesn't go away. It just changes. It hits you sideways sometimes instead of head-on.
Like now. Amy hadn't expected to suddenly feel like bursting into tears just hearing that her dad had been a daredevil when he was younger... just like Dan."Your dad, though he was smarter than me.
He did his schoolwork.
He was always interested in puzzles, too, in figuring things out. I moved to Hawaii and discovered waves, and I was a lost cause." Shep grinned cheerfully at them. "I've been traveling around the world ever since. Until I landed here in Oz."
"Awesome," Dan said again. Amy could see that he'd found a new hero."Now it's your turn." Suddenly, Shep's blue gaze was penetrating. "What are you doing in Australia?"Amy spoke quickly, before Dan could say anything.
It wasn't as though they couldn't trust Shep, but it would be better for him if he didn't know anything about the chase for the 39 Clues.
"We're on vacation," she said. "And we're tracing our family history for a school project. Have
you ever heard of Bob Troppo?"
"Can't say I know him. Does he live in Sydney?""No, he was a famous criminal from long ago, like the 1890s," Dan said. "He has these really fierce scars on his face.
He was in jail in Sydney and he escaped to the outback.""Where?" Shep asked. "The outback is a pretty big place, you know.
Thousands and thousands of miles." He raised his eyebrows. "The land of the Never Never."Amy and Dan looked at each helplessly. They didn't know."Doesn't seem like you have much to go on," Shep said genially.
"That's just the way I like it. You find out more that way.""But where do we start?" Amy wondered."Well, I have a mate who does outback tours from out of the Red Centre," Shep said. "Uluru, Coober Pedy, the Alice."Dan and Amy had no idea what he was talking about. He fished in his pocket for his cell phone.
"I can give him a call and ask if he knows anything about your Bob Troppo." He dialed a number and waited, then shrugged and hung up.
"No answer. Jeff's not keen on voice mail. But he'll turn up eventually."They didn't have time for eventually."So," Dan said. "You have a plane.""That's really cool," Amy said.
Shep laughed. "Hold on, I'm starting to get this," he said. "You want
me to fly you to the outback?
Meet up with my mate and see what you can find?"
"It's not like we'd want you to feel obligated or anything," Amy said, feeling defensive."It really wasn't that bad, being brought up by an evil aunt," Dan said. "Except for that whole part about being chained up in the basement."Shep rolled his eyes, but then the humor drained from his face. "I wasn't much of an uncle to you two, was I."
"No worries," Dan said. Amy could see that in Dan's eyes, Shep could do no wrong.Shep cleared his throat. He stood up and stacked the mugs on a tray.
"Well," he said, "at least I can fly."Dan hooted with laughter. "You mean you'll do it? You'll fly us, like, a thousand miles, just because we asked?""A couple of thousand.
Welcome to Australia, mate," Shep said with a grin.
He disappeared inside, whistling.
leaned over to Amy. "We could have gotten him as a guardian.
Instead, we got Aunt Beatrice the Bloody. Life stinks."Nellie laughed. "Those are the breaks, kiddo. Anyway, now you've got me-- Nellie the Magnificent."
Nellie's phone rang, and she was smiling as she answered it. Her face changed as she listened.
She put her hand over it. "It's Ian Kabra," she said to A
my. "He wants to talk to you."
CHAPTER 7
Amy felt their eyes on
her as she took the phone. Her face grew hot and she turned so that Dan couldn't see it. "Wh-what do you want, Ian?"
She hated herself for stuttering. Pressing her lips together, she promised herself she wouldn't do it again.
"Now, that's not much of a greeting," Ian said in his silky British accent. "But I suppose I deserve it."
"You deserve worse than that," Amy said."I know. I have done some terrible things to you. But we're in a contest. I learned from my father that the only important thing is to win," Ian said. "I hear his voice in my head all the time, like after a cricket match. Ian, I don't care if you played well.
Didn't you notice that your team lost? If you expect a pat on the back, you're not getting it from me!"Amy felt a spurt of sympathy. But Ian had manipulated her before. She wasn't going to fall for it again.
No matter how sincere he sounded."Tell it to your therapist.""Look, I deserve eve
rything you're saying. I'm not
calling to gain your trust," Ian said. "I'm calling because I have some information."
"Tell it to someone who cares," Amy said. Dan moved closer so he could try to hear the other side of the conversation. Amy backed away. "Do you expect me to -- "
"It's about your parents," Ian said. "About their death."Amy froze."My mother told me everything. They were murdered."Amy felt a buzzing in her ears. She couldn't concentrate. She just kept hearing the word murdered.
Parents... murdered... Parents ... murdered..."Amy?" She heard Ian talking, but she couldn't make sense of what he was saying.Was it something she'd always known somehow? Deep down in a place she was afraid to look?
The fire... wet grass against her legs... Dan shivering in her lap ... smoke and fire pouring out into the night air...What was that? The image had just popped into her head. Amy put her fingers on her forehead and kneaded it, trying to make the image go away."... wanted to talk to you about it.
A temporary truce. We give you our word that nothing will
happen "Parents. Murder
ed."Will you come?" Ian asked.
"Tell me what you know."
Amy struggled to keep her voice level. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. "This phone is not secure." "What?""Trust me. It's not.
Listen, I'll meet you in an open place with lots of people-- The Rocks Market at Circular Quay. Meet me in front of the Museum of Contemporary Art at three o'clock."
Amy said nothing."I hope you do," Ian said, and hung up.
"So, what did the creep say?" Dan asked. "What did he expect you to do this time? No, don't tell me.
You're going to fall for whatever he said, right? Oh, Ian," he said in a high voice, fluttering his eyelashes, "take me for a sail on your S.S. Dreamboat..."Amy turned on him fiercely. "Cut it out, dweeb! He just asked for a meeting!"
"Stop the madness!" Dan said, holding his head and rocking back and forth. "My sister is a love alien!""DAN!"
"All right, you two," Nellie said. "Separate corners." She peered worriedly at Amy. "But you're not going to meet him, are you, Amy? Because ..."
"I wish you two would stop treating me like I'm completely stupid," Amy said."Hey, if the Crocs fit," Dan muttered.
Amy jammed her hands in her pockets. She had to be alone and think. Because the idea was just too huge. She couldn't be
gin to talk about it. Not yet.
Parents. Murdered.
Amy turned and flung herself back into the house. Shep was just heading out, jingling his car keys. "Everybody ready to hit the road? We have time for a quick tour of Sydney, then let's head to the market for some grub."
"I'm going to hang out here," Amy said, trying to keep her voice calm. "Jet lag just hit. I need some downtime."Nellie looked at her sympathetically. "You'll feel better after a nap.""Are you going to dream about your dreamboat?" Dan asked."Down, boy,"
Nellie said to Dan. "Let's give Amy a rest."They cleared out, and Amy was left alone with Ian's voice in her head.
Murder. Was he lying? Or did he know who killed them?Amy bent over and took deep breaths. Someone had killed her parents. Someone she probably even knew.
The Kabras couldn't be trusted.She could be walking into a trap. She didn't care.
Because inside her brain one question burned: Who?* * *
The late afternoon sun was still strong as she left the bus stop and walked toward the museum by the harbor.
Circular Quay was a busy spot for tourists. She was relieved to find it c
rowded and lively. It was easy
to lose herself in the wandering throngs.
She stopped at the first store she found that sold touristy things and bought a baseball cap that read OZ. She pulled it low over her face as if she was shading her eyes from the bright afternoon sunlight.
She wished she could be one of the tourists with a camera, ambling through the maze of cobblestone streets and alleyways.
This was one of the oldest parts of Sydney, and the stores and sidewalk cafes she passed looked tempting.
Ahead, the spectacular Harbour Bridge curved against a brilliant bright blue sky. She caught her first glimpse of the famous Sydney Opera House, looking to her like a flower unfurling its petals. Music filled the air.
Awnings mimicking the shape of the opera house roof shaded tables laden with crafts.But she wasn't a tourist. Her strolling had a purpose. When she stopped to look in a store window, it wasn't to see the merchandise.
It was to check out the people around her in the reflection. When she turned a corner and doubled back, it wasn't because she'd made a mistake in direction -- it was to catch any tails behind her. And when she tilted her head to admire the surrounding buildings, she was checking out the roof lines and any possible flash from binoculars.
When Amy felt satisfied that she wasn't being followed, she headed down toward the museum. She slowed her steps and proceeded cautiously as she grew closer to the harbor. She was fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.
Time to check out the area. S
he hung back
in a doorway, watching the swirl of tourists. Every so often she checked her watch so that it would appear as though she was waiting for someone.
Suddenly, she felt someone behind her, a little too close."Beautiful day. Hope you are able to enjoy it."Amy felt the fear curl inside her at the sound of that harsh Russian-accented voice. She tried to move away, but a group of tourists was directly in front of her, loudly discussing where to eat dinner.
She felt something press against her back."By the way, the nails are loaded," Irina said.
All Irina had to do was bend back the joint of her finger, and a needle full of poison would sink into Amy's neck.
She looked around frantically for a policeman."Do not be a stupid person. No one can help you. Now go."She moved away from the harbor, back down the street. Her eyes searched the area, looking for a way out.
Could she outrun Irina? Maybe. But Irina pressed so close behind her that Amy knew she'd never get away without a prick from that needle."Don't think. Just walk. No business that is funny.
Now in here. Go." Irina urged her inside an old stone building. The door was unlocked, and she pushed it open. Irina crowded in behind her and shut the door.
They were in an old pub.
The curved wooden bar stretched the length of the room. Dim light caught the flash of amber in bottles
still lined up on a shelf.
But
cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and they had disturbed dust that swirled in the slanting sunlight."This way," Irina said, prodding Amy toward a small door at the back.Fear coiled inside Amy.
She had seen the blank, intense look in Irina's
eyes in the Church on the Blood. Irina had been close to killing her and Dan that dark night. "No."
"Push door, please," Irina said. When Amy hesitated, Irina's foot shot forward and kicked open the door.
She gave Amy a small shove. "If I were going to kill you, I could have done it ten times already.
We need private talk away from the Kabras. When you don't show up on time, they'll come looking. So go."Amy found herself in a large storeroom. Huge cans of baked beans and tomatoes sat on the shelves. "You've brought me to Costco?" she asked in a mocking voice. She needed to push back, let Irina know she wasn't paralyzed with fear.
Even though she was."You should know by now I don't understand the jokes." Irina pushed her to the rear of the storeroom.
A smaller door was set into the thick stone wall, made of old wood with deep, long cracks running down it. Irina produced a large iron key and fitted it into the lock. She pushed open the door.
All Amy could see was darkness."Now I show you special piece of Australian history." Irina nudged her in the back.
Amy felt the shar
pness of her fingernail. "Go."
CHAPTER 8
A tiny penlight barely illuminated a rickety set of stairs. The door thudded shut behind them."We could meet an occasional rat," Irina said.
"Otherwise, perfectly safe.""Don't worry," Amy said. "I'm used to rats. They run in my family.""Comedian like your brother, eh?" Irina said. "This tunnel was used in the 1800s.
If a lowlife drank too much rum at a bar, he found himself on a ship out to sea the next morning.
Smuggled through tunnel to harbor."They reached the bottom of the stairs. The floor was dirt, the walls crumbling stone.
Amy couldn't see what was ahead."Wh-where are you taking me?" She hated the quaver in her voice. She wouldn't let it out again.
"Ha!" Irina barked the word without humor. "You think I'm kidnapping you? I'm saving you. There are some things I won't stoop to do."
"Really," Amy said. "I thought you stoo
ped at nothing."
"Is a joke? It's true, though, what you say. There was nothing I wouldn't do to win. But today, Amy Cahill, I'm doing you a favor.
I'm giving you advice you need. Here it is-- you are afraid of everything except what you should fear.""Thanks," Amy said.
"That was really helpful.""For example, you are afraid of me right now. Understandable, I am your enemy.
But at this moment, I am least of your problems.""Really?" Amy said. "Weird. Seeing that I'm in a tunnel with rats, and you just threatened me with poison."
"Here is other thing I must tell you -- you don't remember what you should never forget.""That really clears up a lot.""Go ahead, make the fun.
But before we part, you must understand that what you don't know will doom you. And the world.""Exaggerate much?" Somehow, taunting Irina kept her fear in check."No." Irina spun her around. In the darkness, she stood very close.
"Listen to me, Amy Cahill. It is time you lift your head and look around you. The thirty-nine clues are like game to your brother, yes?"Amy felt compelled by the ferocity of Irina's gaze.
Her eyes, even in the faint glow of the penlight, were ice blue, her lashes startlingly dark against them.
She couldn't deny what Irina had said. In many ways, the chase for the Clues wa
s a game for Dan.
"But you know better. That's why I risk so much to talk to you. Your parents died for this. Do you think they wanted to go?"
"Don't talk about my parents!" Amy would have put her hands over her ears if she wasn't afraid it would make her look like a child."No parent would ever want to leave a child.
Do you think they would leave their beloved children for a game?"
"Stop it!"
"Do you think your mother left you alone and raced back into a burning house just for her husband?"Amy
looked at Irina, startled. Frozen. "How do you know what happened?" she whispered.
Irina shrugged. "From newspaper, of course. Unless not. Only you know for sure. Because you know who was there that night.
You were old enough to see. You won't believe what any Cahill tells you, and that is smart. We each have our agenda. So you must remember."
"I don't remember anything from that night," Amy said. But something dislodged and floated up into her brain, cold grass, ash flying, a window shattering, Dan crying..."You have been resourceful, I give you that," Irina said.
"You think on your feet, you and your brother. But there comes a time when you must think deeper. You must face the thing you don't want to face.
Until you can do that,
you're vulnerable.""To what?"
"To someone who will tell you what you want to hear," Irina said. "So I ask again. What happened the night of the fire?"She was choking through the cold, wet towel Mommy had placed over her mouth.
Mommy held her hand so tightly. She could hear the flames, but she couldn't see them. It was all smoke. Dan cried in their mother's arms."I don't remember! I was a kid!" Fear tore the words from Amy's throat.
The flashes she was getting were making her dizzy and sick."It's strange," Irina said, her gaze suddenly unfocused. "I remember so clearly being seven.
The day I got separated from my mother on the streets of St. Petersburg ... I remember the coat I was wearing, my shoes, the exact color of the river, the look on her face when she found me ..."
"I'm happy for you," Amy said, swallowing hard."Did anyone visit the house that night?" Irina asked. "Did you hear anything? Did your mother come upstairs for you? How did you get out of the house?""Stop it!"They fought their way down the stairs. Daddy was in the study, throwing books on the floor."Get the children out!" he shouted."Daddy!" she screamed. She held out her arms and he stopped for a second."Angel," he said, "go with Mommy."
"No!" She sobbed as her mother
pulled her away. "No! Daddy!"
"No," Amy whispered. "No."
"We push away the bad memories," Irina said. Bleak sadness deadened her voice. "We tell ourselves is better not to remember. It is not better. Better to remember everything, even pain."
"What do you want from me?"Irina's gaze snapped back into its glittering directness. "Come. We run out of time. This is a Lucian site. If we're both missing, it won't take long for Isabel to look here."They started to walk again. Amy thought the light might have been getting grayer. Were they reaching the end of the tunnel? She was ready to run if they were. She felt something scurry past, and she jumped."Just a rat," Irina said.
"One of the family, eh? And it's a rat who will fill your ears with lies.""Stop!" Amy said. "If you're not going to kill me or kidnap me, the least you can do is talk straight."They had reached the door.
Amy saw the heavy iron lock. She wasn't getting out without Irina's help.
Irina stood with her back to the door. "Okay, I will talk straight. Isabel has called a meeting, yes?""Ian did."Irina waved a hand dismissively. "Ian is the lure. She thinks you're stupid enough to come running if he asks.
She chose him to dangle the bait. She knows you will come if you want to know who killed your parents."
"Does she know?"Irina lifted a shoulder. "That is wrong question.58Right question is, will she tell you the truth? Of course not. She will tell you a lie in order to soften you. The lie will sound like truth.
Then she will offer you a deal.""And you think I'm dumb enough to believe what she tells me."Irina held up a finger.
"Nyet, not dumb. You are here with me now because I know you are smart. You need to know that if Isabel doesn't get her way, she can be ...
unreasonable. There will be bad consequences if you refuse the deal.""So what do you want me to do?" Amy asked."Don't go. You don't need her version of that night. You have your own. Reach for it." Irina put her hand on the door.
"This leads to the street three blocks from harbor. No surveillance here. You can catch bus or taxi right outside.
Go back to wherever you are staying.""Why should I?"Irina sighed. "Because you must fear the right thing, as I said in beginning.
Do you think whoever killed your parents would hesitate to kill you, too?""I don't believe anything that you're saying,"
Amy said. "I think you're trying to manipulate me and frighten me."Irina's gaze flared in anger or exasperation,
Amy couldn't tell which. "Little girl, keep up. You should be frightened." She hesitated. "What if I give you clue to let you know I'm telling the truth. Okay?""What's the catch?""No catch," Irina sai
d impatiently.
"Listen. Sooner
or later you will get hint leading you to New York City subway. The clue is hidden there in a mural in the tile.
Seventeenth Street stop on number six subway train. I know what you will say-- Irina, there is no stop on number six train for Seventeenth Street.
But that is why the clue is so difficult to find. Rosemary. One sprig.""Why should I believe you?"Irina shrugged.
"Thirty-nine clues, I give away one. So?
As you would say, no biggie. It is worth it if you trust me."
"I could never trust you
in a million years," Amy said.'I’
m not asking for a million years or never or forever," Irina snapped. "I'm asking for one day only. Today."