Amanda Lester and the Pink Sugar Conspiracy

  Chapter 34

  Acting

  The room started to spin. Amanda had to fight to keep from falling. If she gave herself away all would be lost. Her father would die and so would she. “What did you say?” she said, looking at Nick’s blurry face.

  “I want you to kill your father. If you won’t do that you’re of no use to us.”

  Kill her father? This Moriarty was as heartless as the original one. Maybe some people truly were born bad. Of course there was no way she was going to do it. She wasn’t sure how she’d get out of it, but if she had to choose between killing her father or dying she’d just have to die, although that wouldn’t save her father, would it?

  Maybe there was a third way, a way that would save both of them. She’d use her newfound knowledge to trip Nick up. It was a huge gamble, but maybe she could pull it off, if she was any good at what she thought she was, or used to think she was before she’d discovered the truth about him.

  “Okay, I’ll do it, but I want you to do something for me,” she said.

  “You’re not in a position to ask for favors, Amanda.” His face was still fuzzy.

  “No, of course not. But this is something that will benefit both of us.” It was hard to talk when you were dizzy. She wondered if she was slurring her words.

  “What then?”

  “Introduce me to your family. Properly.”

  “My family? You want to meet my family?” He laughed like Snidely Whiplash.

  “Of course. How could I not want to meet the legendary Moriartys?”

  “Enough flattery. That stuff doesn’t work on me.” He paused, then looked as if a lightbulb had gone on. “Actually, though, that doesn’t seem like a bad idea. It will give them a chance to size you up.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “Come on, then. You can meet my father. My mum isn’t here.”

  He led her out of the school and back down the long corridor, but instead of making a right at the end, he turned left and climbed a flight of rusty stairs. This part of the plant was old and seemed disused.

  At the top they came to a suite of offices and went inside. The look of the reception area was so different from anything else in the factory that Amanda gasped. The place was done up entirely in steampunk design. A replica of a 19th century submarine hung from the ceiling, as did wheel- and gear-looking thingies that may or may not have actually worked. A toy train ran around one half of the room on a track of dark brushed copper. The engine and the cars were antique, vintage circa 1870, Amanda thought. The engine was clad in dull black paint that seemed to swallow light, and comprised so many parts that if it were a hobby kit it would take a year to build. Zigzagged copper pipes ran through a collection of test tubes and glass receptacles with blue liquid visible through the clear areas. The back wall was composed entirely of stamped copper, and the couch in front of it was upholstered in deep cherry-brown leather.

  “I see you’re surprised,” said Nick. “Just a little tribute to our forefather. Do you like it?”

  “Of course I do . . . silly.” She thought if she treated him with affection she might be able to break through that hard exterior once again. “This is amazing. Look at that submarine.”

  “All authentic,” said Nick. “Maybe if you get through this we can film something here.”

  We. He obviously hadn’t realized what he’d said, but Amanda picked up on it immediately. He was starting to think of their future together. Her plan was working!

  “Dad,” he yelled into the interior of the suite. “Can you come here a second?”

  “What is it?” came the voice of the man who had manhandled Amanda. “I’m busy.”

  “Can we come in?” There it was again: “we.”

  “You have sixty seconds,” said the voice.

  Nick grabbed Amanda by the hand and practically yanked her arm off as he pulled her into his father’s office. This room was even more fabulous than the outer one, all shiny and gleaming with brass and copper. There were even more trains, miniature ships, and this time flying machines, pistols, and astronomical devices. It was dazzling, although Amanda did worry about those pistols.

  “What’s she doing here?” said Mr. Moriarty, looking up from his desk.

  “I’ve given her a test,” said Nick. “Or I’m about to, anyway. She wanted to meet you first though.”

  “What do you mean ‘a test’? She’s supposed to be tied up and out of the way. So you got out, did you, miss? Cleverer than your ancestor, are you?”

  Amanda fumed but kept her face blank.

  “Here’s the thing, Dad. She wants to join us.”

  Mr. Moriarty looked at his son, then at Amanda, and burst into laughter. “Are you daft?”

  “I know. It seems like a ploy. But I know things about her and she could be on the level.” Something in his voice told Amanda he wasn’t as sure of himself as he was trying to make out.

  “Oh you do, do you?” said Nick’s father. “What things?”

  “She’s hates being a Lestrade and doesn’t want to be a detective.” It sounded lame. Amanda didn’t think Mr. Moriarty was going to fall for it even though it was the truth.

  “So?”

  “She admires us.”

  “Nick, if you’re going to be this gullible you’re never going to succeed in this business. Look at her. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger. You’re going to have to toughen up, and soon, or I’ll have to cut you loose. Your brother would never let sentiment get in his way. You need to learn from his example.”

  What did that mean? Amanda wondered. Loose as in out of the business or loose as in dead? She wouldn’t put anything past a Moriarty. And what brother?

  “With all due respect, Dad—”

  “Enough. Don’t bring her back here. You know what to do with her. Be a man and do it. Now out. Out!”

  Beet red, Nick grabbed Amanda even harder, if that was possible, and spirited her out of the room. “I’ll show him,” he muttered. “You’re going to kill your father now, and then he’ll see.”

  Her plan had worked, in a way. There was now a split between the two Moriartys, and for all she knew the rest of the family would side with the older man. Divide and conquer. Except that now she was supposed to kill her father and it sounded like Nick’s father had directed him to kill her. How was she going to get out of that?

  Just then Nick’s phone sounded. He read the text that had arrived and said, “Blast,” then punched in a reply.

  “What’s wrong?” Amanda said.

  “Shut up. This is all your fault.”

  “What’s my fault?”

  “Be quiet.” He thought for a moment. Then his face softened and his whole demeanor changed. “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

  “Ye-e-e-s.” This was weird. Why so nice all of a sudden?

  “You know how much I care for you, don’t you?”

  This was getting really peculiar. “Well . . .”

  “Because I do, Amanda. I always have.”

  “Nick—”

  “You’re right. We are meant to be together. Outlaws in arms.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was serious or playing with her. “I—”

  “And we’re going to prove this to my father. He’ll never doubt me again. Come on. We’re going to kill your father together.”

  A fresh panic hit her. She’d thought she might be able to distract them. She had achieved that, but in the wrong way. Maybe there was still hope though.

  “Nick,” she cooed. “Tell me about your father.”

  “Why?” he said abruptly.

  “Because he’s obviously an amazing man. Was Moriarty his grandfather?”

  “Great-great uncle, actually. Look, we don’t have time for this.” He had regressed back to his previous self.

  “I think he’s proud of you.”

  He looked at her sharply. “You’re kidding. You saw how he acted in there.”

  “Well, sure. There
are little blips in all relationships. But he wouldn’t have you here working with him, and he wouldn’t have had you infiltrate the detectives if he didn’t have absolute confidence in you.”

  Nick chewed on that for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “Of course,” she said softly. “You don’t have to prove anything to him.” She wondered what a gentle touch would do. No, he’d probably just get angrier.

  “You don’t understand. I do.”

  “No, you don’t. He knows what you can do. It’s obvious. Look, he’s leaving the task of killing my father to you.”

  “I suppose he is at that,” said Nick, brightening.

  “So we can do it however we want. It’s up to you, and I’m your instrument.” Oh, brother. This was laying it on thick.

  “Yes, you’re right,” he said. “How shall we do it?”

  Now she was getting somewhere. Starting to get some control.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “Want to hear it?”

  “Go on.”

  “We use the sugar weapons.”

  “Brilliant!”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, curtseying. “Of course I’ll need training.”

  “Right. Training. Let me see.” He thought for a moment. “There’s a blastproof room we use for testing. Let’s go there and I’ll show you a few things.” He seemed excited.

  He led her down the stairs and to the opposite side of the factory. The testing room was just as much of a mess as the plant floor, but smaller and pinker. Two of the gun-like things stood at the ready.

  “Now look, this is what you do,” Nick said, pointing as he spoke. “We load these concentrated sugar pellets into the device and they explode in a two-step process. You put those in there like this.” He stuffed a couple of handfuls of pellets into one of the muskets. “See? Push them in as hard as you can. Now you try.” He motioned to the other musket.

  Amanda picked up some of the pellets, opened the compartment, and shoved them inside.

  “Good,” he said. “Now fill it up.”

  She pushed as many of the pellets into the device as she could. When she’d finished her hands were all sticky.

  “Never mind about that,” he said. “Occupational hazard. Now, the spark. Where is that starter anyway?” He looked around but couldn’t find whatever it was he was looking for. “Blast it. We’re going to have to improvise.” He pulled out a cigarette lighter from his pocket.

  “We’re not going to be blown up, are we?” said Amanda.

  “Of course not. We stand behind that,” he said, pointing to a door in the back. “It’s completely blastproof in there.”

  “But I don’t see how we’re going to get there in time,” said Amanda.

  “Don’t worry. There’s a time delay on the weapon. Are you ready?” He moved the lighter close.

  “Er, ready.”

  He flicked the lighter on and touched the flame to something inside a cavity, then grabbed her and ran to the safety area. In about twenty seconds a powerful explosion shook the walls of the small room, which he explained was lined with lead.

  “Now we wait for two minutes,” said Nick.

  “Why?”

  “Let the dust settle a bit. You’ll see.”

  He watched the time on his phone and after a couple of minutes he opened the door and peered out. “All clear,” he said. “Come on.”

  He may have thought the air was clear, but there was still so much dust that Amanda started to sneeze. The room was indeed blastproof, but Nick had miscalculated and the two weapons had been blown to bits, the first one igniting the second and strengthening the explosion.

  “That didn’t go so well,” Nick said.

  “Never mind,” said Amanda. “You showed me and that’s all that matters.”

  “You don’t know how much those weapons cost,” he said. “My dad is going to be furious.”

  “No, he won’t. When he finds out that we’ve done away with my father, he’ll forget all about it. Now, what’s the next step?”

  “We go get another weapon, stick it in here, and bring your father in and smoke him.”

  It sounded terrible. However she felt about her father, joking about killing him was over the top. But she couldn’t let Nick see how she felt, so she put on her best face and acted. All this time she’d wondered where they were keeping her father and now she was about to find out.