Cadel nodded, speechless.
"Okay, then. I'll keep you posted." Without further ado, Saul climbed into his car and slammed the door. Revving his engine, he flapped his hand at Cadel, urging him to step aside.
But Cadel didn't obey. Moved by an obscure impulse, he leaned down and tapped on the driver's side window—which was immediately lowered.
"What?" asked Saul.
Cadel took a deep breath. "You don't need to worry," he said. "I'll be careful from now on. I won't do anything stupid."
At which point, for the very first time, Saul smiled at him.
"Well, of course you won't," the detective replied. "I think I've worked that out by now."
And he roared off toward the front gates.
TWENTY-SIX
The next morning, news of Prosper's impending court appearance hit the GenoME system.
It was Devin who first alerted Cadel to this flurry of e-mails. Devin had been given the task of monitoring Jerry's e-mail traffic—and according to Devin, the local computers were running hot.
"They found out about Prosper from the police network," he said, "and now they're forwarding the information to America." He spoke sullenly, looming over Cadel's workstation with his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans and his black beanie pulled down low over his forehead. Cadel knew perfectly well that Devin resented having to concentrate on local activity. Hacking into GenoME's American system was the glamor job of their operation; Devin made no secret of the fact that he would have preferred working alongside Hamish and Cadel.
As a result, the atmosphere of the War Room no longer crackled with excitement. Instead, a kind of gloomy impatience had infected the air, thanks to Devin's hisses and sighs and restless fidgeting.
Lexi, on the other hand, was completely absorbed. Now that she had so much decrypting to do, she'd stopped wandering from workstation to workstation, snapping rubber bands between her fingers and commenting on people's outfits. She didn't have the time.
"Well," Cadel remarked, giving Devin his full attention, "we know that Carolina's interested in Prosper English. She's got that file on him, remember?"
"Yeah, but there's something going down," Devin insisted. "It feels like they're a bit frantic suddenly. Like they're up to something."
"Maybe they are," Trader suddenly observed, from behind him. "But we won't know unless you keep an eye on them." Draping an arm across Devin's shoulders, he flashed his movie-star smile, which was beginning to look slightly frayed around the edges. Like most of Genius Squad, he hadn't been getting much sleep. "So why don't you concentrate on your work, instead of distracting these people? Hmmm?"
"I was just telling them," Devin growled, before shrugging off Trader's arm and stomping back to his desk.
Trader turned to Cadel.
"What about your side of things?" he asked. "Any developments?"
"Yeah," Cadel conceded. He had been picking his way through the GenoME node-code analysis program and had discovered two interesting features. One was a series of regular, automated downloads to an outside system. The other was an archive full of past node-code reports, dating back several years.
"Hamish has been checking it out," Cadel reported, "and he's found ten names linked to another database that we haven't got into yet. It's heavily protected."
"One of the ten names is Jimmy Austin," said Hamish, adjusting his glasses. "You know—Rex's son. And one belongs to that guy Lexi mentioned. The guy who works for a b-bank."
"Really?" Trader frowned. "Any idea what that's about?"
"Not yet," Hamish admitted. "Like Cadel said, I haven't got into the linked site."
"Give it all you can, then," said Trader, after a moment's intense thought. "And distribute that list of names. In fact, I might do a bit of research on them myself." Again, he addressed Cadel. "What about the outside downloads? Do you know where they're going?"
Cadel shook his head. "But it won't be too hard to find out," he surmised.
"Do it," said Trader. "That's a priority. Because I wouldn't be surprised if those downloads were going straight to Fountain Pharmaceuticals. What kind of stuff are we talking about?"
"Genetic data," Cadel replied. And Trader nodded.
"See, it makes sense," he mused. "Chester Cramp's in charge of Fountain Pharmaceuticals, and I've always had a sense that he calls the shots when it comes to process. Because GenoME's gene analysis system probably came straight out of NanTex, and NanTex used to be run by Chester. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, Fountain Pharmaceuticals is just NanTex under another name." He clapped Cadel on the shoulder. "If we can get into the Fountain system, then we'll know for sure," he finished. "I'm counting on you for that, Cadel. You, too, Hamish. Don't let me down."
"Don't let me down," Hamish mimicked, after Trader had withdrawn to the other side of the room. "Yes, suh! Roger, wilco!" And he snorted. "I hate all this teambuilding crap, it's so b-bogus. Like we're stupid enough to need it, for god's sake."
Cadel said nothing. He had vowed to concentrate on his work, because if he kept himself busy enough, he wouldn't fret about other things.
Unfortunately, Hamish wasn't being very cooperative.
"So what do you reckon?" he asked, with a sly, sidelong glance. "Why are all these e-mails b-being fired off, suddenly? Why is Jerry so interested in Prosper's court appearance?"
Cadel shrugged. He didn't want to think about Prosper English. Or Niobe. Or anyone else associated with the Axis Institute.
"I can't answer questions like that," he said. "There's no point running probabilities, because I don't have enough information."
"D-do you think GenoME actually hired that poisoning girl to kill Prosper?"
"How should I know?"
"Because you've met her, that's why." Hamish leaned toward him. "What's the d-deal with her, anyway? Someone told me she killed her own twin sister."
"Not exactly. I mean—it was complicated. You wouldn't understand." An image flashed into Cadel's mind: a memory of his last meeting with Niobe. It had occurred on the institute campus, quite late at night. Niobe had been dressed in a black turtleneck, black pants, a black vest, black gloves, and a black balaclava. She had been on her way to the microbiology labs, where she had subsequently fractured her twin sister's skull in hand-to-hand combat.
Cadel closed his eyes. He took a deep breath to steady himself.
"Look—I don't want to talk about it, all right?" he snapped. "It's pointless! This whole discussion is pointless! Why don't you just wait until Lexi and Sonja have finished decoding? Then we might actually have some data!" And he resumed his work, conscious of Hamish's disappointment. By directing all his energy at the computer screen, however, Cadel was able to block out the frustrated pout next to him, just as he was able to block out Devin's restlessness, Lexi's occasional bursts of excitement, and Judith's loud comments about money laundering. Having thrown himself wholeheartedly into GenoME's system, Cadel tried again and again to piggyback on those mysterious downloads.
By lunchtime, he had succeeded. And he had also confirmed Trader's suspicions.
GenoME was sending genetic data through to Fountain Pharmaceuticals.
"I knew it," said Trader, upon being informed. His eyes glittered and his teeth gleamed; his exultation was infectious. "Didn't I tell you? It's NanTex under another name." He ruffled Cadel's hair. "Well done. Well done. That's what I like to see!"
"Most of the system's off-line now," Cadel remarked. "Things have shut down for the night over there."
"But you can pick it up again tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Attention, people!" Trader spun around to address the other occupants of the War Room. "You'll be pleased to know that Cadel's through to Fountain Pharmaceuticals! From now on, he'll be in charge of finding out what Chester Cramp is up to!" Cadel flushed as Devin slowly and mockingly applauded. Even Judith's murmur of approval seemed rather weak. But Trader didn't allow this muted response to intimidate him. On the contrary, he beamed a
t Devin and added, "Meanwhile, Hamish and Devin can focus on GenoME's American network."
Devin's jaw dropped. Hamish scowled. Trader declared, "Never say I don't care about my team, Devin," and waited for a response.
Devin scratched his chest awkwardly.
"Uh—thanks," he said at last.
"But I want to make one thing clear," Trader continued, raising a finger. "You do what Hamish tells you to do. He's your boss on this." Before Devin could protest, Trader warned sweetly, "You're a ram-rodder, Devin. I need more subtlety than you can offer, I'm afraid. And if you don't like it, you can go back to Jerry's e-mails. All right?"
In the sudden silence that ensued, Cadel heard a strangled grunt. One glance told him that Sonja was struggling to speak.
He was about to draw attention to this fact when Lexi gave a yip and swiveled around to face the rest of the room. She had been attending to her computer, oblivious to everybody else.
"Oh my god!" she cried. "Trader, listen!"
"I'm talking, Lexi."
"Yes, but—"
"In a minute, please."
"But they're planning to free Prosper English! "
Everyone was struck dumb by this announcement. Even Trader fell silent. Dot blinked. Hamish gasped. Tony's eyebrows climbed his forehead until they almost disappeared into his hairline.
Cadel sat quite still, speechless with shock, as Sonja rolled an anxious pair of eyes at him.
At last Trader recovered. Crisply he demanded an explanation, which Lexi was eager to provide.
"We've been lucky," she said, "because Carolina must be out and about. Instead of calling Jerry, she's e-mailed him. Maybe she trusts firewalls more than she trusts mobile phones." Gesturing at her computer screen, Lexi added, "It's all here. Laid out in dot points."
"What is?" said Trader.
"Her plan to kidnap Prosper English. When he arrives at the Coroner's Court." Lexi was bobbing up and down in her seat, unable to keep still. "That Gazo guy is supposed to stink up the whole courthouse, so everyone will pass out except the GenoME people. They'll be disguised as journalists, and they'll have gas masks and stuff." Lexi's frantic gum-chewing started to slow as her brow creased. "I guess they'll be dragging Prosper out to a car, or something," she speculated. "It doesn't say here. Maybe she hasn't worked that out yet."
"Wait—wait a minute." Cadel couldn't believe it. He had to swallow hard before continuing. "Gazo can't be doing that," he whispered. "He wouldn't do that."
"Carolina thinks he will. She'll threaten to expose him if he doesn't. By telling the police who he really is." Lexi consulted her data. "Which means that she must have worked out who he really is herself. Somehow."
"Her husband would probably have known about Gazo," Trader mused. "Chester Cramp used to run NanTex, remember. He'd be familiar with all of Darkkon's genetic mutants. I'm sure Gazo's problem must have rung a few bells for Chester, when it turned up on Gazo's application form."
"Yeah. I guess. Except that I can't find any e-mails from Chester on the subject," Lexi pointed out.
"Maybe he phoned her."
"Maybe."
"If she's threatening to expose Gazo, then she doesn't realize that the police have already b-been told about him," said Hamish. "So either Gazo hasn't been mentioned on the police system yet, or she hasn't found him there." He scanned the room. "Somebody ought to check."
Cadel realized that he was on his feet, though he had no memory of rising. Sonja watched him with evident concern.
Trader was deep in thought.
"It's all a bit rushed," he said, stroking his chin. "I'd be surprised if they could pull it off. Though if they do, we're in luck." He glanced at Judith. "As long as we can prove that the orders came from America. Otherwise Earl Toffany could say that it was all Carolina's idea. He could blame her and get off scot-free." Feeling a tug at his sleeve, Trader rounded on Cadel. "What? What is it?"
"We have to tell the police," Cadel insisted.
"Oh no." Trader was adamant. "And tip them off about what we've been doing? Not likely."
"But—"
"Gazo will tell them." Trader spoke with a careless confidence that Cadel found abrasive. "He's on the side of the angels now, isn't he? Or isn't he?"
"If-Gazo-tells-the-police-about-Carolina's-plan, some-one-might-report-it-on-the-police-system," Sonja unexpectedly interposed. "And-Carolina-has-access-to-that."
"She's right," agreed Devin. He seemed startled to hear these words issuing from his own mouth, but plowed on, anyway. "Sonja's right. If Carolina learns that the cops know what she's going to do, she'll think up another plan," he said. "Without telling Gazo about it."
"And-she-might-try-to-silence-him," Sonja added. "Because-he's-the-only-witness-who-can-testify-that-she's-arranging-to-have-Prosper-abducted."
As far as Cadel was concerned, Sonja had hit the nail on the head. Gazo was in danger. Clearly, Carolina hadn't yet stumbled on evidence of his cooperation with the police. But this was no guarantee that she wouldn't come across an incriminating e-mail in the future.
"I need to tell Gazo," Cadel declared. "Right now. I need to tell him that Carolina's been spying on the police." He raised his voice, forestalling Trader's objection. "Gazo can warn Saul Greeniaus about what GenoME's doing," he said, "as long as we pretend that he got all his facts from GenoME. Not from me. That way, the squad will be protected."
"Cadel—"
"I'm going to do it!" Cadel clenched his fists. "You can't stop me, Trader!"
A hush fell. The only movement was Sonja's juddering; the more she tried to subdue it, the worse it became. Everyone else remained motionless, gaping or wincing or (in Lexi's case) dimpling with glee. Even Trader seemed taken aback.
"I'm not going to stop you," he said finally. "I'm going to ask you to think. You were told not to contact Gazo. Suppose the police are tapping his phone? Suppose they're watching his house? How are you going to get in touch without alerting them?" Seeing Cadel frown, Trader pressed his advantage. "What if they get suspicious?" he continued more quietly. "First you contact Gazo, after being warned not to. Next thing he's on the phone, telling police to keep his name off their computers. Isn't it possible that they might put two and two together?"
"No." Cadel stood firm. "No, they won't," he said. "Because they won't know I've been anywhere near Gazo."
Trader clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"How do you propose to manage that?" he inquired. "There are two coppers sitting outside the gate as we speak, Cadel. You're not going to get past them."
"Oh, yes I am," said Cadel, with absolute certainty "Just watch."
TWENTY-SEVEN
Lexi was only too delighted to help with Cadel's costume. She threw open her wardrobe, dragging out armfuls of unsuitable clothes: black net tank tops, black vinyl miniskirts, black leather pants covered in oddly placed zippers. No matter how many times Cadel stressed that he was trying to avoid being noticed—that a black lace corselette or a T-shirt covered in fake blood spatters was likely to attract unwanted attention—Lexi kept pleading with him to "at least try this on."
"But you'll need a jacket!" she would say, holding up a shaggy black vest made of artificial fur, or a trailing black velveteen cape trimmed with red satin. "Go on, please? It'll look fabulous on you!"
Cadel, however, refused to oblige. The more Lexi begged, the more uncooperative he became. "I just want ordinary stuff," he insisted. "Don't you have any ordinary stuff?" In the end, he chose a black cotton skirt, a black lace bra, and a pair of black tights. Combined with one of his own white T-shirts—worn beneath Sonja's embroidered pink sweater—the skirt didn't look too outlandish, though its hem was slightly asymmetrical.
On his feet he wore Judith's ankle-boots. These boots had high heels and added greatly to the overall effect, Cadel thought. Luckily, he and Judith shared an identical shoe size.
He turned down Lexi's offer of black nail polish.
"How am I supposed to get it off afterward?"
he said. "I'll be doing a quick change, Lexi. I can't be messing around with nail-polish remover." Nor did he favor lipstick that was deep purple, or fire-engine red. Secretly, his aim was to imitate Dot, whose bland appearance meant that she never stood out in a crowd. Everything about her was neutral—even her lipstick. And it was Dot's lipstick that Cadel eventually borrowed, much to Lexi's disgust.
He had decided not to worry about jewelry. Managing hair clips would be fiddly enough. By tying his hair back tightly, he flattened out most of his curls; the bouncy little ponytail that resulted from this maneuver could be wound up and pinned down into a kind of bun, which could then be concealed beneath a large silk flower attached to a comb. Sonja contributed the comb It had been a Christmas gift from her friend Kay-Lee, but Sonja had never worn it.
"You-look-better-than-I-do-in-most-things," she said. "Even-silk-flowers."
Gazing into Lexi's mirror, Cadel couldn't disagree. He was almost disappointed to see that he still made a pretty convincing girl—at least from a distance. Up close, his budding mustache was perhaps a little too heavy, and his jaw a little too angular. It was also just as well that Sonja's sweater happened to have a high neck.
Nevertheless, his transformation was so remarkable that Trader gasped at the sight of him.
"Good god," said Trader. Then he burst out laughing.
"Isn't he gorgeous?" Lexi crooned. "Don't you like what I did with his hair?"
They were standing in Sonja's bedroom, surrounded by heaps of Lexi's discarded clothes. Trader shook his head in wonder as he eyed Cadel from every angle.
"I honestly wouldn't have recognized you," Trader admitted. "Is this something you learned at the institute?"