Operation Gadgetman! by Malorie Blackman

  ‘Gran’s going to go nuclear if she sees all those cornflakes on the floor,’ Beans muttered.

  ‘We’ll vacuum them up before she sees them,’ Louisa promised.

  ‘Hhmm!’ Beans said, not totally convinced.

  At last they went to bed. Louisa and Ann tossed a coin to see who would share Beans’s double bed and who’d have to sleep on the lilo. Ann got the lilo, much to Louisa’s relief.

  They started watching the late-night movie on the telly in Beans’s room, but it was a horror film and they all agreed that it was not the best time to watch something like that. Beans had to take a flying leap out of bed to unplug the telly, and another flying leap to get back into bed – all to avoid the cornflakes. She reached up over her head to switch off the light. They all lay on their backs, listening to the dark silence in the house.

  ‘I won’t sleep a wink,’ Beans whispered. She fingered the rounders bat. It felt smooth and reassuringly solid beneath her fingertips.

  ‘Neither will I,’ Louisa sighed.

  ‘Nor me,’ Ann joined in.

  Ten minutes later, they were all fast asleep.

  ‘Beatrice Teresa Conran! Just what have you been up to?’

  Beans sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘Is it morning already?’ she asked, surprised.

  ‘Yes, it is morning. And you can just clean up this room – and that means every cornflake removed from the carpet – before you come down to breakfast,’ Gran stormed.

  Beans blinked. ‘Yes, Gran.’

  Ann sat up slowly. Louisa groaned and turned round, pulling the duvet over her head.

  ‘So much for traps and alarms,’ Beans said with disgust. She was almost disappointed.

  An hour later, the tins and drawing pins and hangers were all back in their proper places. The cornflakes had been vacuumed up until the carpet looked like new.

  ‘I’d still like to know what you three were up to.’ Gran peered at her reflection in the hall mirror before straightening her hat.

  ‘It was just an experiment, Gran,’ Beans said for the umpteenth time.

  ‘An experiment? AN EXPERIMENT! You and your father – God protect him – must learn to do your experiments out in the garden workroom and keep them out of the house,’ Gran said. ‘Mind you, I’m not surprised your dad works in this house sometimes, considering the state of his workroom! The door was just about to fall off its hinges. So untidy! I had to use your dad’s tools to fix it this morning. Did that nice Detective Warner get in touch about your father whilst I was out shopping yesterday?’

  ‘No, Gran. I’d tell you if he had,’ Beans replied.

  ‘I’m not so sure about that, Beatrice.’ Gran turned to wag a finger in Beans’s direction. ‘I know you don’t want to upset me, so I wouldn’t put it past you to keep bad news to yourself.’

  ‘Well, I’m not.’

  ‘Just make sure you don’t,’ Gran sniffed. ‘I’m not made of glass.’

  ‘Yes, Gran . . . I mean, no, Gran,’ Beans said.

  ‘I just hope your dad’s safe,’ Gran muttered. ‘If I didn’t have you three girls to look after, I don’t know what I’d do . . . All this worry.’

  Beans was surprised, then she wondered why she was surprised. She was more like her gran than she had thought. They both had to do things to stop themselves from worrying too much. Only Gran’s way of handling it was to keep busy with her shopping and dusting and cooking and cleaning and mending doors!

  ‘I’m off to church now,’ Gran said, straightening up. ‘I want you three girls to behave yourselves. No more trying to plant cornflakes in the carpet!’

  Louisa and Ann smiled.

  ‘No, Gran,’ Beans said.

  Gran pulled her jacket down straight and headed out the door.

  ‘Nag! Nag! Nag!’ Beans muttered under her breath.

  ‘I heard that, Beatrice!’ Gran said. She popped her head round the door. ‘If you three are seeking useful employment today, you can mow the lawn and water the flowers – in both the back and the front gardens. I started it this morning but didn’t get a chance to finish. The side gate is open, so don’t forget to lock it when you’re all done. I don’t want stray dogs wandering up our side path.’ And with that, Gran closed the door firmly behind her.

  ‘Your gran’s dead ace,’ Ann grinned. ‘I like her!’

  ‘Me, too,’ Louisa agreed. ‘She believes in coming straight to the point, doesn’t she!’

  ‘You two only like her because she’s never inflicted her macaroni cheese on you,’ Beans replied.

  They wandered into the kitchen.

  ‘Do you want us to help you with anything?’ Louisa asked.

  ‘I suppose we’d better start looking for any notes or drawings Dad might have made about his induction oscillator. Detective Warner has been pestering me about those for ages.’

  ‘Where do we start?’ Ann asked.

  ‘Dad’s workroom. Where else?’ Beans said.

  Beans thought that the search would take for ever, but Gran had beaten them to Dad’s workroom and tidied that as well! Boxes of the same components were stacked neatly side by side against the wall. Screwdrivers were arranged in order of size on the worktable. Miscellaneous components were held in one large box. The broom leaned self-consciously against the wall by the window, and Dad’s latest gadgets – the animal crunchies shaped like various animals or insects – were in a box by themselves.

  To think that these little things could have caused all the trouble with our neighbour, Mr McKee, Beans thought.

  She opened the drawers in her father’s worktable and found all of his papers, filed neatly away. Gran again! The notes on the induction oscillator had to be in there somewhere. Beans sighed. Working her way through all that lot would be a job and a half. The workroom was darker than it had been the day before. Beans glanced up. Gran had been up on the ladder to throw a tarpaulin over the hole in the roof. And as Gran said, she’d fixed the door so that it no longer swung haphazardly on its hinges, but closed properly. The workroom door’s padlock and key had been placed on a shelf, just inside the door.

  ‘I would never have recognized the place,’ Ann whistled.

  ‘Dad won’t recognize it either,’ Beans said. ‘He’s always been here before to stop Gran from tidying it up. I guess she couldn’t help herself.’

  ‘Here . . . Beans, isn’t that your doorbell?’ Louisa asked.

  ‘I can’t hear anything.’ Beans turned her head to listen.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Louisa said. ‘There it goes again.’

  Beans stared at her. ‘How can you hear the doorbell from all the way out here? You must have ears like a Labrador!’

  Louisa grinned. They all went back inside the house. Louisa was right. There was someone at the door. Two people, in fact.

  ‘Hello, Beans,’ Detective Warner said. His piercing eyes seemed to look straight through her and her friends. ‘Er . . . I’ve brought my sergeant with me today. This is Sergeant Paxman.’

  Sergeant Paxman had his back to them as the detective spoke. At the introduction, he turned around slowly. Beans’s breath caught in her throat for a moment. For a brief second . . . Beans was sure she had seen Sergeant Paxman before. But that was impossible. He was a podgier man than Detective Warner, but strangely podgy.

  Podgy in a squidgy way! Beans thought.

  Sergeant Paxman was wearing sunglasses and his hair was gelled straight back off his head. His face had a sheen to it, which didn’t surprise Beans.

  He must be baking, Beans frowned to herself.

  Sergeant Paxman was wearing a zipped-up black leather jacket, and trousers which seemed to have a shape all of their own. If the trousers followed the shape of Sergeant Paxman’s legs, then the sergeant had the most peculiarly shaped legs Beans had ever seen. She couldn’t see Sergeant Paxman’s face very well because he was standing just in front of the sun so that his face was shadowed.

  ‘May we come in, Beans?’ Detective Warner asked.

  ‘Yes
, of course.’ Beans held open the door.

  ‘I thought you were going to be alone this morning?’ Detective Warner asked lightly, regarding Ann and Louisa.

  ‘My friends stayed overnight,’ Beans explained.

  She watched Sergeant Paxman as he walked into the house out of the sun. It was strange, but the skin below his cheeks, around his mouth and his jaw-line, was noticeably lighter than the rest of his tanned face. Beans frowned. She couldn’t put her finger on it but there was something very strange about Sergeant Paxman. Something she didn’t like – at all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Matching Fingerprints

  ‘Have you any news about my dad?’ Beans asked.

  Detective Warner and Sergeant Paxman made themselves comfortable on the sofa. Sergeant Paxman picked up Beans’s English workbook from where it was partially covered by a sofa cushion, and started flicking through it.

  ‘We’ve got nothing concrete yet,’ Detective Warner smiled. ‘The car was found abandoned in the city centre, which doesn’t give us much to go on, but we’re still looking. What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’ Beans asked, puzzled.

  ‘Did you find the blueprints for the induction oscillator or instructions for using it?’

  Why did Detective Warner’s smile remind Beans of an oil slick? Sergeant Paxman unzipped his jacket before pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. He closed Beans’s English notebook. He started drumming on the cover.

  ‘I . . .’ Beans froze.

  She stared at Sergeant Paxman’s fingers, drumming on her notebook.

  Drumming. Drumming . . .

  ‘Is something wrong, Beans?’ Detective Warner frowned.

  Beans looked at him. She clamped her teeth together, then forced herself to smile.

  ‘No, of course not.’ She was speaking too quickly. ‘No, of course not,’ she said again, making herself speak more slowly this time.

  ‘So did you find what we’re looking for?’ the detective repeated. ‘Any drawings or notes? Anything at all?’

  ‘Not yet. But I’ll find it today for sure. Can you go away and come back this evening for it?’ Beans said.

  ‘But Beans, what about all those papers in the workroom?’ Louisa reminded her.

  ‘Papers?’ Detective Warner said quickly.

  ‘Oh, they’re not the ones you want,’ Beans dismissed. ‘Dad always keeps his notes and drawings on serious projects in his bedroom or in the attic. The papers in his workroom are details of his official Gadgetman spy kits.’

  ‘Ah yes, the workroom. I’d like to take a look in there,’ Detective Warner said.

  ‘You’ve been in there before,’ Beans said.

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ the detective replied sharply. ‘You’re mistaken.’

  ‘Oh . . . I thought you had . . . I – I’d let you see it but . . . but Gran has padlocked the door and gone off to church with the key in her handbag,’ Beans lied. ‘Have you seen Dad’s Gadgetman spy kits? They’re going on sale at the end of the month. Would you like to see one? My kit is in my bedroom. Hang on a sec whilst . . .’

  Detective Warner shook his head. ‘No, we don’t have time. So you think you’ll find the papers on the induction oscillator today?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure of it,’ Beans said. ‘Could you wait there a moment, please?’

  Beans pulled Ann and Louisa out of the sitting-room and into the kitchen.

  ‘You two are not to say a word to those detectives. Not one word,’ Beans whispered vehemently.

  Beans ran round the kitchen, getting two glasses out of the cupboard. Ann and Louisa frowned at each other, totally baffled. Beans placed each glass in a saucer after cleaning them thoroughly with some kitchen towel first. Then she filled the glasses with fresh orange juice from the fridge.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Detective Warner came to stand in the kitchen doorway, Sergeant Paxman behind him. Beans jumped.

  ‘No . . . er . . . I was just getting you both a drink. Some orange juice.’ Beans smiled. She’d never found smiling so hard to do.

  ‘No thanks,’ Detective Warner said.

  ‘Oh, but . . . but I’ve poured it out now.’ Beans held out the drinks by the saucers to the two detectives.

  Detective Warner shrugged at Sergeant Paxman before taking the glass of orange juice. The sergeant took his drink. They both downed them in one before placing them back on the saucers.

  ‘I . . . I’m sorry for the delay, but I only had a chance to really start looking for what you wanted this morning,’ Beans said. ‘Detective Warner, should I phone you when I find anything? At the same number as before?’

  ‘Yes, do that,’ the detective said.

  ‘But like I said, I’m sure I’ll find them later on today anyway,’ Beans smiled.

  ‘Fine,’ said Detective Warner. ‘We’ll see ourselves out.’

  ‘Louisa, show them to the front door then.’ Beans elbowed Louisa in the ribs to get her going.

  Louisa frowned at Beans, but followed the two policemen out into the hall. Beans set down the glasses in their saucers carefully, one on either side of the hob.

  ‘Warner.’ Beans pointed to the now empty glass on the left. ‘Paxman.’ She pointed to the one on the right.

  ‘Beans, what are . . . ?’ Ann began.

  ‘Ann, you can help me wash up these glasses,’ Beans said, her voice louder than normal.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Ann grumbled. ‘But I wish you’d stop being so mysterious and tell me what’s going on.’

  Louisa came back into the kitchen.

  ‘They’ve gone?’ Beans whispered.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Louisa, surprised.

  ‘You shut the front door behind them?’ Beans asked urgently.

  Louisa nodded.

  ‘ANN, DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THAT GLASS!’ Beans screamed.

  Ann’s arm froze, just as her hand was about to pick up the now-empty glass used by one of the policemen.

  ‘You just told me to help you wash up,’ Ann said, annoyed.

  ‘That was for their benefit, not yours,’ Beans said. ‘Wait here, you two. I’m just going to get my spy kit, and for goodness sake don’t touch those glasses.’

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Ann asked Louisa as Beans raced up the stairs.

  ‘Don’t ask me.’ Louisa shrugged. ‘She was fine until those two policemen arrived. Mind you, there was something weird about that sergeant. He didn’t say much, did he? And . . .’

  They heard Beans charge downstairs. She ran full pelt into the kitchen, spy-kit briefcase in one hand, OPERATION GADGETMAN folder in the other.

  Louisa and Ann watched as Beans put the folder on the work surface before opening her briefcase. She got out the vial of dark fingerprint powder. Digging into her jeans pockets, she then took out a small reel of Sellotape.

  ‘Are you going to dust the glasses for fingerprints?’ asked Ann, surprised.

  Beans nodded.

  ‘What on earth for?’ Louisa frowned.

  ‘Did you notice the sergeant?’ Beans asked, as she dusted fingerprint powder all round each glass.

  ‘What about him?’ Louisa asked.

  ‘His jaw-line in particular,’ Beans hinted.

  She brushed the excess powder off the prints and straightened up with a smile. ‘A perfect set of prints – on both glasses.’ Beans grinned.

  ‘His skin was paler on the lower half of his face.’ Louisa shrugged. ‘So what?’

  ‘Louisa, you haven’t read the section in my dad’s book on disguises.’ Beans smiled with satisfaction. ‘Because if you had, you’d know that when a bearded man shaves off his beard, especially in the summer, the skin beneath the beard is invariably going to be lighter than the rest of his face. It’s the same for black men as well as white men.’

  ‘So Sergeant Paxman had a beard until recently. So wha . . . ?’ Louisa’s voice trailed off as she realized what she’d said. ‘You’re not saying . . . he can’t be . . . !’ L
ouisa stared.

  ‘You mean . . . Sergeant Paxman and Lucas Moynahan are one and the same person?’ Ann breathed.

  ‘That’s exactly what I mean,’ Beans replied.

  ‘But they can’t be. What would Lucas Moynahan be doing with Detective Warner?’ Ann shook her head.

  ‘Who told you he was Detective Warner? Who told you he was a detective? He did,’ Beans said. Her tone was angry, but Louisa knew that Beans was angry with herself rather than anyone else. ‘It’s all my fault. Dad’s always warning me not to let anyone into the house – the gas people, the electricity people, anyone – without scrutinizing their identification cards first. He waves his wallet under my nose and I just assumed it was all right. I never had a proper, long look.’

  As Beans spoke, she used the Sellotape to carefully lift the fingerprints off the glasses and place them on a clean piece of paper. She put the Sellotape back into her pocket and carried on talking.

  ‘D’you know what I think happened? I reckon Lucas Moynahan shaved off his beard and wore sunglasses and extra layers of clothing to disguise himself. Did you see how squidgy and strange his shape was? I’ll bet you anything that was padding underneath his outer clothes. He was trying to make sure that none of us would recognize him – changing his hairstyle, padding himself out, shaving off his beard. Only he was a little too smart for his own good. Or he reckoned we were more stupid than we are!’

  ‘But why?’ Ann asked, bewildered. ‘I mean, what did he hope to gain?’

  ‘I think they were hoping to find me alone. Yesterday, so-called Detective Warner questioned me very closely about when Gran would be in, but I reckon now that he was more interested in when Gran would be out. They wanted to get me as well, to force Dad to tell them how the induction oscillator works. And if they couldn’t get me, then Dad’s notes or blueprints on the oscillator would be the next best thing. That Lucas Moynahan had to disguise himself or I would never have let him in. And he couldn’t risk being seen by our neighbours, in case I had told someone about him and they gave his real description to the police.’

  ‘Detective Warner didn’t need to disguise himself because he was already in disguise. You already thought he was a detective,’ Louisa gasped. ‘So those two are the kidnappers . . . What a pair of cow pats! We have to go to the police. Right this second . . .’