The Crystal Code (2 page)

Chapter 1

F
arnborough Airport on London's south-western outskirts is basic by international standards. It's not very big or very attractive. But it is where the filthy rich land their private jets when they fly into London.

On this particular December afternoon, the airport was abuzz. The world's youngest billionaire, thirteen-year-old Gerald Wilkins, craned his neck, trying to spot his friends in the crowd that milled around the terminal concourse. It wasn't like Sam and Ruby Valentine to be late. Especially Sam, who regarded any trip on Gerald's private Airbus A380 Flying Palace as an event not to be missed.

Gerald's butler, Mr Fry, manoeuvred a train of trolleys, piled high with baggage, up to the check-in counter. Gerald's mother hovered by the butler's elbow.

‘Take care, Mr Fry,' Vi Wilkins said. ‘I had those suitcases custom-made by Birkin. I don't want a scratch on them.'

Mr Fry muttered as he unloaded the mountain of bags. ‘Perhaps madam should have packed them into something.'

‘Pack a suitcase into another suitcase?' Vi arched an eyebrow. ‘Whatever are you talking about, Mr Fry? Honestly, I wonder whether you're looking forward to this holiday at all.'

The butler hefted a trunk the size of a small wardrobe from the cart. It landed on the floor with a thud. He leaned on it to catch his breath. ‘Forty house guests, two dozen staff, three tons of ski gear and a Christmas banquet to organise,' he said. ‘What's not to look forward to?'

‘Oh, Mr Fry, you do carry on.' Vi pulled out a diamond-encrusted compact and re-applied her lipstick. ‘Anybody would think you're not enjoying yourself. Oh,
squee
! There's Frannie and Jacinta. Yoo-hoo! Girls! Over here!'

Vi flapped her hands over her head, rattling her jewellery. She darted into the crowd, abandoning Mr Fry to his duties and charged across to two women who had just walked into the terminal. She threw her arms around them. Squeals of excitement sounded above the buzz of the crowd.

Gerald shook his head. It was going to be a long two weeks. Again, he scoured the concourse for his friends. He hadn't seen them for three months—not since the start of term at his new school. St Cuthbert's wasn't the most famous school in Winchester, or even the best school, but it was the most expensive. That made it the boarding school of choice for the sons of wealth and privilege from around the world. Sam and Ruby had been at school in London, and Gerald was keen to catch up with them. He was particularly anxious to see Ruby again. To explain what had happened over the past months.

But there was no sign of the Valentine twins.

The noise inside the terminal intensified. It was like the last day of school, except all the students were overweight and in their forties. Gerald recognised a few of his parents' friends—the ones who had been to their Chelsea townhouse for dinner. But there were many others now hanging around Vi and Eddie Wilkins, clapping them on the shoulders and thanking them for their hospitality.

A few weeks earlier, Vi had called Gerald at St Cuthbert's and informed him of her plans for Christmas.

‘Just a few close friends of your father's and mine, dear,' she had trilled down the phone line. ‘And you can invite some pals as well. The Valentines, of course. Aren't you and that gorgeous Ruby special friends now? And how about your friend Oswald from Sydney? You haven't seen him in such an age. Won't it be delicious, Gerald? Just imagine: a white Christmas at your great aunt's private ski field in the Sierra Nevada mountains in California! But of course, it's
your
ski field now, my darling boy.'

Gerald gazed at the crowded airport terminal. A few close friends? He was feeling distinctly outnumbered.

Then a pair of soft hands wrapped themselves over his eyes.

And a silken voice cooed in his ear, ‘Guess who?'

Gerald's heart skipped. He reached up and pulled the hands from his face.

‘Ruby!' He spun around. ‘It's so good to—'

He stopped mid-sentence. Gerald had expected to find the smiling face of Ruby Valentine, but instead found himself staring into a pair of hazel brown eyes.

‘Oh,' he said. ‘Felicity.' He paused for a long second. ‘You came, then.'

A tall slender girl of fourteen, her face framed by long chestnut plaits, beamed back at him. ‘Of course I came, silly! What a
curious
boy you are.' She rocked up onto her toes and squeezed Gerald's fingers. ‘This is going to be the best Christmas holiday
ever
!'

Gerald arranged his face into something resembling a smile. ‘Yeah,' he said. ‘The best. Ever.'

Felicity bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. ‘The Colonel was ever so pleased when I told him you'd invited me for the hols, Gerald. Got him out of a real jam. He's stuck in Afghanistan with the regiment for, like, ever. And Mother's not back from her ashram in Nepal till the end of January. Dire. So it would have been Christmas turkey for one in the dining hall at St Hilda's for poor Flicka if you hadn't come to the rescue. The Colonel said he never thought he'd see the day when he'd be grateful to an Australian. Hilarious. But there you are. My knight in shining armour, Gerald. Whatever would I have done without you?'

All this was said without pause for breath and at a speed that made Gerald's head bob. Before he could open his mouth to respond, Felicity launched forth again. ‘I'm ever so lucky, and skiing is just my most favourite thing in the world. Not counting riding, of course. You don't ride, do you Gerald? We'll fix that. Are there stables on the mountain? I bet there are. Because wouldn't that just be the best thing. The best thing
ever
. A ride in the snow! Oh, how lovely would that be? I could teach you, Gerald. Miss Urquhart says I've the best seat in my year. Maybe even the whole school. And she should know. Three Olympics and three silver medals. She's ever so good. Really knows her horseflesh. Oh look! Is that your friends Ruby and Sam over there?'

Gerald, exhausted from nodding along to Felicity's breakneck monologue, followed the direction of her pointed finger.

His heart lurched in his chest. ‘Yeah,' he said, his voice catching. ‘That's them.' He waved a hand above his head.

Sam reached Gerald first. Looking as fit as ever, and maybe a bit taller, he threw an arm around Gerald's shoulders. ‘Look at you, pasty face!' Sam said. ‘You've got a real English tan now.' Gerald laughed. Three months of a British autumn had stolen away any sign of their wild summer together in Europe.

‘Good to see you too, Ugly,' Gerald said through a broad grin.

‘How's the new school?' Sam asked. ‘Gold taps in the bathrooms and posh beyond belief? You still talking to commoners like us?'

Gerald shrugged. ‘It's a school.'

‘Fair enough,' Sam said. ‘Now, this flight to San Francisco—do we get fed? Coz I'm starving.'

Gerald could not believe how good it was to see his friend again.

Then Ruby walked up.

Gerald stopped breathing.

Ruby wore a pair of blue jeans, and a leather jacket over a plain T-shirt. A simple scarf was knotted loosely at her neck. Her hair, longer than he remembered, was tied to the side with a dark ribbon. A remnant of summer freckles dusted her cheeks. She crinkled her nose and smiled, her face alight. Her blue eyes scanned Gerald's face, taking in the changes after so long apart. They stared at each other for a silent half-second, time seemingly frozen. She took a half-step forward, spread her arms, and—

‘Ruby!' Felicity bounced in front of Gerald, straight into Ruby's embrace, squeezing her tight around the middle. ‘Hi! Hi! I'm Felicity. Felicity Upham. But do call me Flicka. All my friends do. Gerald has told me ever so much about you. And Sam as well.'

Felicity flashed Sam a brilliant smile, then directed her full attention back onto Ruby, clutching her hands. ‘I'm so looking forward to this trip, and getting to know you. Last holiday my father, the Colonel, took me on a tour of the Lake District. We did brass rubbings at all the churchyards. It was okay, but it wasn't as good as skiing. I'm babbling, aren't I? I do that when I'm excited. My father says he should have named me Brooke! Ha! Isn't that too funny? Oh, I just know we're going to be best friends. Do you ride? I bet you're brilliant. I love your shoes. And your hair! Oh God, I'm so jealous. I saw some amazing hair bands and charms in the gift shop over there. Come on. I'll show you.'

With an effort, Ruby managed to free herself from Felicity's clutches. She shot a confused look at Gerald.

‘I'm sorry,' Ruby said, shaking her head as if she hadn't heard right. ‘Who did you say you were?'

Felicity let out a laugh like a china bell. ‘Oh, Ruby,' she said. ‘I'm Felicity. You know. Gerald's girlfriend.'

Ruby stared open mouthed at Gerald. For some reason, Gerald couldn't think of anything sensible to say. He shrugged and managed a tight smile.

‘Surprise,' he said.

Chapter 2

T
here wasn't just a gap in the conversation—it fell into an abyss. Felicity took full advantage. She held tight onto Ruby's hand. ‘Come on. This gift shop is the best thing
ever
.' Then she dragged Ruby towards the far end of the terminal building.

Sam turned to Gerald. ‘Who is that?'

‘That,' Gerald said, ‘is Felicity.'

‘Bit of a force of nature, isn't she.'

‘Yep,' Gerald said. ‘Cyclonic.'

‘And where do we know her from?'

Gerald took a deep breath. ‘She goes to a girls' boarding school across town from mine—St Hilda's. We met at the annual Hilda's versus Cuthbert's dance.'

‘Sounds more like a rugby match,' Sam said.

‘It is a bit. Both schools line up on either side of the hall and wait for the whistle.'

‘Whistle?'

‘Well, music. Then it's non-stop dancing till a nun blows full time and everyone goes home.'

‘I see.'

‘Felicity likes dancing.'

‘I can imagine. And brass rubbings too. Quite the catch.'

‘She's nice. You know, lots of fun. We've been to the movies together. School lets us out on Saturday nights and we go into town.'

‘Time off for some bad behaviour, eh? Are you two boyfriend-girlfriend then?'

‘Well, sort of,' Gerald said, shaking his head. ‘At least, not fully. We're just—'

‘Good friends?' Sam suggested.

‘Yeah, that's it,' Gerald said. ‘Just…good friends.'

‘Uh-huh,' Sam said. He looked across to the gift shop window, where Felicity was urging an unenthusiastic Ruby to try on some necklaces. ‘Just a friend, who you invite aboard your private jet for an all-expenses-paid Christmas holiday in the California snow.'

‘So?' Gerald said. ‘What's so unusual about that?'

Sam shrugged. ‘Bit of a step up from Saturday night at the movies.'

Gerald's heart sank into the pit of his gut. ‘I asked her along because she's fun. And she would've been alone at Christmas otherwise.' He bit his bottom lip. ‘Do you think Ruby will mind?'

Sam let rip with a snort. ‘Let's see. It's been, what, four months since we've seen you? Ruby has mentioned your name about five times every day. That increased to twenty times once your mum phoned up to ask us along on this trip.' Sam did some quick calculations on his fingers. ‘That'd be about a thousand times I've had to hear her utter the word ‘Gerald' since the start of September.' He stared at Gerald's face. ‘What do you think?'

Gerald held Sam's gaze for a moment, then slid into a seat. He cupped his head in his hands. ‘What have I done?'

Sam sat next to his friend and nudged him with his elbow. ‘Don't worry about it. Girls go crazy for this sort of drama. Gives them something to talk about when they go to the loo together. The thing is, I thought you were keen on Ruby.'

‘I am. Or at least, I was,' Gerald said. ‘I think.'

‘Then why did you invite Felicity?'

Gerald looked across to Sam. It was a good question. A really good question. Unfortunately, Gerald did not have a good answer. ‘I think I like her too,' Gerald said.

‘Oh yeah, that type of thing always ends well,' Sam said. ‘Don't sweat it. The truth is, I'm glad.'

‘You are?'

‘Sure. You and Ruby moping around like a couple of love-sick puppies was really boring. This way at least we can enjoy ourselves.'

‘Even with Ruby hating my guts?'

‘Especially with her hating your guts. She's more fun when she's ticked off at something. The last four months have been a colossal bore. I've never seen her so happy.' He placed a hand on Gerald's shoulder. ‘The argument that you two are about to have could well save this holiday.'

Gerald snuffled out a mirthless laugh. ‘So you think there's going to be an argument?'

They both looked across to the gift shop, in time to see Ruby glaring back at them with a face that would freeze the fairy from the top of a Christmas tree.

‘Oh yes,' Sam said. ‘There will be an argument. And then some.'

Gerald swallowed. It wasn't the start to the holiday he had hoped for.

‘So, what's with all these people?' Sam asked, indicating the throng around Gerald's parents with a tilt of his head. ‘Are they all coming to America with us?'

‘I think so,' Gerald said. ‘Mum wants a big traditional Christmas. You know—turkeys under the mistletoe, that kind of thing. Apparently my great aunt's private ski field is pretty awesome. And we've never had a white Christmas before. It's usually boiling hot and you're sweating into your lunch.'

‘I forgot you Australians do everything upside down,' Sam said. ‘Mum said there's been some heavy snowfalls in California so the skiing should be good.'

They looked up to the sound of another burst of excited squealing from Gerald's mother. She was racing towards a couple that had just stepped from an Aston Martin One-77.

‘Alisha is joining us in San Francisco,' Gerald said. ‘And you'll get to meet Ox. He's flying in from Sydney with his folks. You'll like him—he's hilarious.' Gerald suddenly raised his head and looked about. ‘Are your parents here? I didn't see them.'

‘Yeah, they're in the middle of the mob down there somewhere,' Sam said. ‘It was a good idea of your mum's to invite all of us.'

‘Why's that?'

‘Because every time Ruby and I go on a trip with you, someone ends up dead. I don't think Mum would have let us come if she wasn't invited too.'

Gerald gave a grim nod. His holidays with the Valentine twins did tend towards the dramatic.

‘Oh, wait,' Gerald said, shoving his hand into his back pocket. ‘I've got something to show you two.' He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open.

Sam gagged at the thick fold of US hundred dollar notes stuffed inside. ‘You don't need to show off, you know,' Sam said. ‘I get it. You're a billionaire.'

Gerald gave him a quizzical smile. ‘Not the cash, dummy,' he said. ‘This.' From a sleeve in the wallet, just behind the black American Express card, Gerald removed a square of buff-coloured cardboard.

‘What is it?' Sam asked.

‘Ruby needs to be here as well.'

They looked back to the gift shop. Felicity had Ruby swathed in colourful scarves.

‘Good luck getting her out of there anytime soon,' Sam said. ‘Come on. What've you got?'

Gerald frowned—he had wanted to share it with both Valentine twins. But his reunion with Ruby hadn't gone exactly to plan. ‘Okay,' Gerald said. ‘This was in the box of stuff that Inspector Parrott dropped round to the house at the end of the summer holidays. The bits and pieces from Mason Green's room at the Rattigan Club. Remember?'

‘That's right. We were playing cards. What is it?'

Gerald held up the square of cardboard between his fingers. ‘It's a dry-cleaning ticket.'

‘Hmmm,' said Sam. ‘On the face of it, not very interesting.'

‘It's a ticket for a dry cleaners in San Francisco.'

‘Still not interesting, really.'

Gerald waved the ticket under Sam's nose. ‘Don't you see what this means?'

‘You have a perspiration problem?'

‘I'm beginning to see why Ruby gets frustrated with you. It's not my ticket. It's Mason Green's.'

‘So he's the one with the perspiration problem,' Sam said. ‘Brilliant. The case of the sweaty billionaire is solved. Holmes, you astound me.'

‘No, you idiot. If Green had a dry-cleaning ticket it means he must have left something there to be cleaned.'

Sam nodded slowly. ‘Yes. Yes, I think I follow you.'

‘Don't be a pain,' Gerald said. ‘We're about to fly to San Francisco. The dry cleaner is in San Francisco. It's the perfect opportunity.'

Sam's expression didn't change. ‘To do what? See some of Mason Green's underwear?'

Gerald was about to clip Sam over the ear when a voice interrupted them.

‘What are you two talking about?' Felicity appeared over Gerald's shoulder. She was beaming, like she'd been given a puppy on her birthday. Gerald looked up to find her holding Ruby's hand. Ruby's head was festooned in ribbons and bands. The look on her face did not reflect the party that was going on in her hair.

‘You two seem to be having fun, then,' Sam said. He swallowed down the giggle that was trying to scale his windpipe.

‘We certainly are,' Felicity said. Then she snatched the ticket from Gerald's fingers. ‘What have you got there?'

Gerald tried to grab it back, but missed. ‘It's a dry-cleaning ticket,' he said, irritated. ‘It's nothing.'

‘Then why were you making out it was the discovery of the century?' Sam said, oblivious to the glare Gerald shot at him.

‘Yes, Gerald. Why?' Felicity asked.

Gerald took in a slow breath. ‘Because of the address of the dry cleaners.'

Felicity looked at the ticket. ‘It's in San Francisco,' she said. ‘On the corner of Mason and Green streets.'

‘Where did you say?' Ruby almost choked on the words. She took the ticket from Felicity. ‘Bay City Cleaning, on Mason and Green.' She turned to Gerald. ‘What's going on?'

They were the first words Ruby had said to him. Not ‘Hi,' or ‘How are you?' Not ‘I've missed you,' or ‘So good to see you.' But a blunt, ‘What's going on?'

It was like they'd never met before.

‘It was on Mason Green's desk at the Rattigan Club,' Gerald said, trying not to sound disappointed. ‘With all that stuff he'd stolen from my place.' He was painfully aware that Felicity was sitting right next to him. ‘Don't you think it's a bit odd that Green would use a cleaner at that particular address.'

‘That Mason Green would use a cleaner at the corner of Mason and Green?' Sam said. ‘Getting clean at Mason and Green. Maybe he has a strange sense of humour.'

‘I don't recall him being a bundle of laughs,' Gerald said. The memory of Green's murder of Gerald's great aunt was still fresh in his mind.

‘What are you saying?' Ruby asked Gerald.

‘Maybe Mason Green isn't his real name,' Gerald said.

Ruby stared at him blankly. ‘And he used the address of some random dry cleaner in San Francisco as an alias? That's absurd.'

‘It's a possibility,' Gerald said.

‘So is the question of your sanity,' Ruby said.

Sam looked puzzled. ‘So it's not just about his undies then.'

Felicity tugged on Gerald's elbow. ‘Isn't that the man who tried to kill you, Gerald? How perfectly sick-making.'

Gerald ignored the looks of disbelief from Sam and Ruby. ‘I'm just curious to see the place, so here's what I think we should do,' he said. ‘The plane gets into San Francisco about two o'clock this afternoon. We don't leave for the ski field till tomorrow. What say we go for a visit to the corner of Mason and Green and see what this ticket gets us.'

‘So instead of seeing the Golden Gate Bridge or Alcatraz, you want to see some of Green's dirty clothes?' Sam said.

‘No,' Gerald said, ‘I think they should be clean by now.'