‘Yeah, long gone,’ I replied.
‘Well, stay put, try not to touch anything and we’ll send someone round straight away,’ he said.
I put the phone down, hoping that Mum hadn’t tried to contact me when I was on the phone to the police. I glared at the phone, willing her to ring me, missing her more than I’d ever thought possible.
‘It wouldn’t have killed you to wait for …’ Nosh’s voice trailed off as he looked at me. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘We’ve been burgled.’
‘You’re kidding.’
I didn’t even bother to answer. I just looked at him. I mean, did it look like I was kidding? Being burgled wasn’t exactly something I’d joke about.
‘What did they take?’ Nosh asked, when he saw that I was serious.
‘Just the DVD player and my mobile as far as I can see.’
Nosh walked into the living room. He gave a long, low whistle when he saw what had happened in there. It was that more than anything else that finally convinced me that I wasn’t dreaming. I sat on the second to last stair, the phone cradled in my lap, and waited.
The police arrived in about ten minutes. Mum didn’t phone. And within two minutes of the two policemen arriving, Nosh’s whole family was in my house.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Burgled!’
‘Why didn’t you come and tell us, Nosh?’
‘Elliot, I’m so sorry.’
And on and on Nosh’s parents went. Only Halle said anything of any use. She took a look around the living room, turned to me and said vehemently, ‘What a bunch of scumbags! I hope whoever took your DVD player has the thing blow up on them – taking their favourite film with it!’
She smiled at me then and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Once I had shown the police around the house, we went into the living room. They let me put the sofa cushions back where they should be and we all sat down. They asked me lots of questions about where my parents were and when was the last time I’d heard from my mum, but precious little about the burglary. There were two of them, although only one asked me any questions. Then the fingerprint officer arrived. She had this gloomy, forlorn look on her face that looked like it was permanently painted on. She disappeared off somewhere muttering something about her raging indigestion. She came back less than five minutes later, shaking her head.
‘It looks like a professional job. They came in through the back via the kitchen window. There were two of them but they were both wearing gloves.’
‘Not much chance of catching them, then,’ the head policeman said glumly.
Yep! If today was going to be a brilliant day, I should definitely get back into bed and wait for tomorrow, I decided.
‘You’re not staying here by yourself, are you?’ asked the glum policeman.
I shook my head. ‘I’m staying with Nosh’s family next door until my mum gets back,’ I replied.
He wrote something in his book.
‘Well,’ he said, standing up, ‘I can give you a crime number which your mum will have to use to claim on her insurance.’
‘Is that it, then?’ I asked, surprised.
‘The thieves are long gone now, but we’ll see what we can do.’
Was I impressed? Not much! But what could I do? Missing Mum more than ever, I began to straighten up the room.
‘I’m meeting Julian in an hour. We’re joining the ANTIDOTE protest march against Shelby’s later this afternoon but I’ll stay and help you tidy up until then,’ Halle told me.
‘I’ll stay for a while too,’ said Nosh’s dad. ‘I can’t let you clear up this mess by yourself.’
‘I’ll see you later, Elliot,’ Nosh told me.
‘Nosh!’ His dad and mum spoke in shocked unison.
‘I’m only joking.’ Nosh grinned. ‘I wouldn’t run out now, would I?’
‘Hhmm! I wouldn’t put it past you,’ said his mum.
‘I’ll start on the upstairs,’ I said quietly.
I could feel my eyes stinging again and I didn’t fancy embarrassing myself in front of my neighbours. I trudged up the stairs, thankful that no one tried to stop me.
‘D’you want some help?’ Nosh called after me.
I turned back to him. ‘Yeah, OK,’ I said at last.
Nosh followed me into Mum’s computer room.
‘You can help me get this lot sorted out,’ I said when at last I could trust myself not to blub.
We put the processor under the table and moved the PC screen onto the table next to the printer. Nosh sorted out the cables strewn across the floor, whilst I tried to figure out what I needed to do to make Mum’s PC work again. Actually it was the best thing I could do in the circumstances. I soon became so engrossed with what I was doing that it took my mind off … other things. Not completely, but enough for me to calm down inside. All the cables and wires were still present so Nosh and I set about connecting the whole system up again. It took a while but at last we were plugged in and ready to give it a go. I turned on the speakers and the screen before turning on the processor. Text immediately came up on the monitor.
‘Yes! It still works,’ I grinned at Nosh.
‘Of course it does,’ Nosh grinned back. ‘We did it!’
But I’d spoken too soon. About two seconds after we got the initial message about booting up the computer, the system crashed. My smile faded. I pressed the button on the processor to try again. The same thing happened. I dug Mum’s backup boot CD out of the pen-tray of the table and inserted that in the drive. This time the computer booted up properly, from the CD – but it might as well not have bothered. There was absolutely nothing on Mum’s computer. The directories, the files – they’d all gone. The hard disk was empty. It wasn’t that the hard disk was corrupt and wouldn’t allow us to read any files, there just wasn’t anything there. Nothing. And ANTIDOTE. CONFIDENTIAL – the Marcus Pardela memo that Mum had loaded – that had gone, too.
‘What’s going on? Where’s all the stuff we were looking at yesterday?’ Nosh asked me, puzzled.
I stared at the screen. ‘It’s all been erased. A total wipe-out.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Nosh frowned.
‘I mean, someone has deliberately wiped out every file Mum had on the system,’ I said. ‘Now why would a burglar – a real burglar – sit down and take the time to do that?’
Chapter Eight
The Protest March
‘WHAT’RE YOU SAYING? That the people who broke into this house weren’t real burglars at all?’ Nosh asked, astounded.
‘Why would they take the time to sit here and wipe out every file, then not take the computer?’ I asked. ‘Why not take the computer, then delete all the files once they got it home or something?’
‘It doesn’t make any sense,’ Nosh agreed.
‘Nothing about this whole business does,’ I said. ‘I mean, how come the burglars knew the one and only night in the last year and a half when there was no one at home? Don’t you think that’s a bit of a coincidence?’
‘Are you sure you’re not getting a bit carried away?’ frowned Nosh.
‘Nosh, look around. Nothing was taken – nothing except an old DVD player and a mobile phone. I reckon that was only taken to make it look like a burglary.’
‘But what about all the mess …?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that, too. The only explanation I can come up with is that the so-called burglars were looking for something.’
‘Like what?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe they knew about Marcus Pardela’s confidential memo and wanted to get that back. Or maybe they were looking for Mum’s mobile. That could be why she told me to take her phone and put it somewhere safe. And maybe that’s why they took my phone, because they thought it was Mum’s.’
‘Is that what she told you to do when she phoned you last night?’ Nosh asked curiously.
I grimaced and bit my lip. Me and my ginormous mouth
! ‘Yes, but don’t tell anyone else. Mum warned me not to say anything to anyone.’
‘I won’t tell a soul. You can count on me. But what I don’t understand is why anyone would be after your mum’s mobile?’
‘I DON’T KNOW!’ I exploded. ‘Stop asking stupid questions I can’t answer.’
‘Well, excuse me whilst I just run after my bloomin’ head.’
We both sat in silence staring at the monitor.
‘Those two men we saw last night,’ Nosh said suddenly. ‘D’you think they were the burglars?’
The moment he said that, I instantly felt that he was right. And then I told myself off.
‘It’s not very likely,’ I pointed out, doubtfully.
‘But if you’re right about this not being a real burglary then it makes sense,’ Nosh insisted. ‘Those two men were watching your house. They only turned away when they noticed that we were watching them.’
‘That doesn’t help much. We don’t know who they were or where they were from and there’s no way the police would buy a story like that.’
‘Hhmm!’ Nosh agreed reluctantly. ‘I wonder why they wiped out your mum’s disk?’
‘Obviously because there was something on it that they didn’t want Mum or anyone else to see or keep,’ I replied. ‘But if it was the Marcus Pardela memo, why not just delete that one file?’
‘I wonder if it was that?’ Nosh spoke more to himself than to me.
‘This is so frustrating.’ I slammed my hand against the table, which was stupid because I came off worse! ‘If I could just begin to make sense of one thing, then maybe everything else would fall into place but at the moment I feel like I’m rushing around in all directions in the dark.’
‘I take it your mum didn’t phone you this morning?’
I shook my head.
‘Should we go on the ANTIDOTE protest march?’ Nosh asked. ‘It seems to me that that’s the most likely place now to find some answers.’
‘OK,’ I agreed. ‘I don’t see that we’ve got much to lose. We could go with Halle and her boyfriend …’
‘You must be nuts!’ Nosh told me indignantly. ‘I’m not going anywhere with those two.’
‘But …’
‘No way,’ said Nosh.
And that was the end of that. After one last look at the PC screen, I turned off the processor.
We spent the rest of the morning trying to return the house to normal. Nosh’s dad phoned a glazier who promised to arrive within the hour to fix the glass in the kitchen window.
‘I don’t have enough money to pay him,’ I told Nosh’s dad reluctantly.
‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay and I’ll sort it out with your mum later,’ Nosh’s dad insisted.
He was being so nice, I felt guilty for all the begrudging thoughts I’d had about him the night before. When it got to half-twelve, most of the house was back to normal.
‘Mum, Dad, d’you mind if Elliot and I go out? I think Elliot needs to get away from here for a while,’ Nosh said.
‘Where will you go?’ Nosh’s mum asked.
‘We thought we could go to the pictures or something,’ Nosh told them.
I kept my mouth shut, wondering why he didn’t just tell them that we wanted to join the ANTIDOTE march.
‘D’you need any money?’
‘No, we’ve got enough,’ Nosh replied.
‘OK, just be back home by five,’ Nosh’s mum said at last.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ Nosh smiled.
‘And don’t worry, Elliot, we’ll keep a close eye on the house,’ Nosh’s dad added.
‘Thanks,’ I said gratefully.
As we left the house, I asked, ‘What was that all about?’
‘Mum and Dad would never have let us go on the ANTIDOTE march,’ Nosh explained. ‘They cut up rough when Halle said she wanted to go, and in the end they only agreed because scabby Julian said he was going with her.’
‘Why’re they so against the idea?’
Nosh lowered his voice. ‘They reckon with any march that big, you’re bound to get some yobbos coming along just to make trouble.’
‘Then maybe we should hook up with Halle and her boyfriend, just to be on the safe side?’ I suggested.
‘No. Besides, there’s nothing Halle would like better than to run home and tell Mum and Dad that we went on the march.’
I shrugged. I wasn’t going to argue but I thought Nosh was making a mistake.
An hour later we caught up with the ANTIDOTE march when they were less than a kilometre away from Shelby and Pardela Pharmaceuticals. The crowd of people marching in the protest seemed to be at least a mile long in itself. Four abreast, people were holding banners and placards railing against Shelby’s. The police who walked alongside were few and far between. They obviously didn’t expect that much trouble. And the faces of the officers I could see looked more cheesed off at having to be there in the first place, than worried or alert. We had a scout about but we could see no sign of Halle and Julian. Nosh was more relieved than anything else.
‘Let’s walk a bit faster to the front of the march,’ I suggested. ‘That ANTIDOTE woman I saw on the telly – what was her name? – Sarah Irving, she’s bound to be at the front somewhere.’
‘D’you know any of the other heads of ANTIDOTE?’ Nosh asked.
‘Only their names. Let’s see … there was Somebody Macmillan – I think his name was Ian. Rohan Adjava – I remember his name ’cause it reminded me of coffee – and my uncle, of course.’
‘Never mind. If any of them are here, we’ll find them. Let’s search for Sarah Irving,’ said Nosh.
We started to make our way through the crowd.
‘What happens when we find her?’ I asked, turning my head every which way in the hope of spying her. ‘I mean, she might be the Shelby agent.’
‘We’ll just have to be very careful,’ Nosh shrugged.
Which was a big help! Nosh spotted them first – Halle and her boyfriend. They were halfway down the march, each holding one end of a banner.
‘Don’t let them see us,’ Nosh hissed.
We bent low and skirted the outside of the march, making a run for it once we were past them.
‘Phew! That was close,’ said Nosh when we straightened up.
To be honest, I still didn’t see what all that cloak-and-dagger stuff was about, but I didn’t say anything. After all, Halle was Nosh’s sister, not mine.
The march reached the Shelby building before we got anywhere near the front.
‘I hope we haven’t fought our way to the front for nothing,’ I frowned, still looking around.
‘Look!’ Nosh pointed to the huge, wrought-iron Shelby gates.
A woman and a man, their arms laden down with masses of paper, were arguing with the eight security guards at the gates. Nosh and I scooted past the two policemen at the front of the march who were trying to hold everyone back, and ran up to the gates.
‘I told you, all we want to do is deliver this petition,’ the woman said angrily.
‘And I told you that you can deliver it to me,’ said the head security guard, who looked just like a Nazi guard out of one of those old-time war films.
‘I want to make sure it gets to Marcus Pardela,’ said the woman.
‘It will,’ the guard insisted.
‘We’re not moving until I deliver this to the main reception.’
‘That’s up to you,’ said the guard. ‘I get paid whether you’re here or not. No skin off my nose!’
The man and woman moved back a bit to talk to each other in private. They didn’t notice Nosh and me listening.
‘Sarah, we’re wasting our time. They’re never going to let us pass,’ said the man.
‘Ian, I’m not leaving without handing in our petition to the receptionist or someone on the inside of the building. If we give it to that security guard, it’ll get filed under “B”!’
‘He won’t put it in the bin. Not if we tell him that we’ll be insist
ing that Marcus Pardela answer some of the points raised in the document attached to the petition. If we say that then he’ll have no choice but to hand it over.’
‘You think so?’ Sarah asked doubtfully.
‘It’s worth a try,’ Ian replied.
‘Are you Ian Macmillan?’ I asked the man.
He gave a start, then frowned down at me. ‘Who wants to know?’
‘Robert Gaines is my uncle,’ I explained.
His eyes widened. Immediately the expression on his face changed.
‘You must be Elliot,’ he smiled. ‘I’m sorry to be so surly but it’s been a long morning and it looks like being a longer afternoon.’
‘Hi, I’m Sarah Irving.’The woman held out her hand which I shook. ‘We’re really sorry about your mum and uncle. We’re doing everything we can to get the situation resolved. Our lawyers are working on it right now.’
‘Have you seen my uncle? Is he all right?’ I asked, eagerly.
A look passed between Sarah and Ian.
‘No, we haven’t seen him. Not yet,’ Sarah replied. ‘We thought we’d go to see him this afternoon or maybe tomorrow.’
‘Where is he?’ I asked.
‘He’s being held at the local police station until he appears before magistrates on Monday morning,’ said Sarah.
I was puzzled. I was sure the police had said Uncle Robert would appear before magistrates today, not on Monday. I’d obviously got it wrong.
‘Has Mum been in touch with you?’ I asked, after a brief pause.
‘No, not yet.’The two grown-ups exchanged another glance. This time Ian spoke. ‘We were hoping she’d get in touch with us. To be honest, we’re not quite sure where she fits into all of this. So she hasn’t been in touch with you either?’
I shook my head, saying the words, ‘Not today …’ in my mind, so that it wasn’t a complete lie.
‘The police say they have CCTV evidence that shows Uncle Robert and Mum breaking into Shelby’s …’ I began.
‘Yeah, we were sent a copy of the recording, too – no doubt to rub our noses in it,’ said Ian with disgust.
‘Did … did your Uncle Robert tell you what he and your mother intended to do?’ Sarah asked.