December (17 page)

‘“Apye”,’ I quoted. ‘The form of an ape? The monkey! Winter! The white monkey in the portrait you saw of young Princess Elizabeth! It’s holding an orb, and Dad drew a monkey holding a ball.’

‘I still don’t get it,’ said Boges. ‘What does it mean? What’s the “Queenes fonde Jaype”?’

We both looked to Winter.

‘Shakespeare uses that word,’ she said. ‘A “jape” is a trick of some kind. A joke. Or some sort of deception. And in those days, the word “fond” actually meant “foolish”.’

‘A foolish joke,’ I said, thinking aloud. ‘What do these last lines mean? Black Tom is supposed to have written these lines, according to Dr Brinsley—what foolish joke is he playing?’

‘Quick!’ hissed Ashling, suddenly storming into our tent. ‘Get into the caravan, the Garda are here!’

‘What?’ I asked, panicking. ‘They’re here?’

‘You need to go and hide in the chests in the
caravan
. Now!’

Winter, Boges and I grabbed our bags and ran out of the tent, following Ashling into a
caravan
. Once inside, she started pulling books out of three separate chests, making room for us to climb inside.

‘Get in!’ she ordered.

The three of us awkwardly squashed ourselves
inside, then the heavy, dusty books were piled back on top of us.

‘Don’t move until I come back!’ she hissed before leaving.

Cramped in a box of books, the minutes were flying by. Every minute passing meant less time and less daylight to get out to Inisrue Marsh and search the three potential locations.

Being found would hold us up at a time when
time
was as crucial as air. I was petrified we’d be caught by the Garda with our fake passports and be unable to answer their questions about Sligo’s raid on Clonmel Way Guest House the other afternoon… and about Rafe’s body left lying in his car on the road.

I wondered if my mum had been notified yet. She’d be devastated. Again.

I also couldn’t help thinking about what Rafe had told me before he died—about Mum’s
involvement
with Rathbone.

At least for now it was quiet in the caravan. I hoped Boges and Winter were holding up in their hiding places OK.

We were wasting so much time and my body was
killing. I couldn’t help lifting the lid of the chest and peering out.

‘Boges? Winter?’ I hissed.

‘Stay down,’ I heard Boges reply. ‘No point
getting
caught now. Surely they can’t hang around for too much longer.’

‘We just use this one as our library,’ I heard Ashling say as she entered the caravan, followed by heavy footsteps. ‘The children come in here to grab a book and quietly study.’

‘Uh-huh,’ an unknown voice replied, tapping what I suspected was a baton on top of the chests. ‘Books, you say,’ she added.

The sound of one of the chest lids opening sent chills down my spine. I heard some
prodding
and gritted my teeth, praying my friends weren’t about to be sprung. I prepared myself to launch out of the chest and run, but in moments, Ashling and the unwanted guest had left the caravan. For good, I hoped.

‘It’s OK, you can come out now,’ said Ashling, finally lifting up the lid on the chest I was in.

I stretched out my aching limbs and saw Boges and Winter also emerging, looking like
dishevelled, broken jack-in-the-boxes.

‘I thought they’d never leave,’ said Ashling. ‘They were very thorough, investigating the Clonmel Way raid and the shooting. Checking our camp, making sure we weren’t harbouring any
fugitives
. Are you all right?’

Clearly, by the light-hearted way she said ‘fugitives’ she thought we were kids who’d been caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time. If only she knew how serious this was.

‘We’re fine,’ I said. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, but we really need to get out of here. We must go to Inisrue Marsh.’

Ashling shook her head. ‘I don’t think you should set off now. It’s far too dangerous to go there. There’s not enough light and you only have to wander a little way off the path and you’ll never be seen again. The Marsh has claimed a lot of lives over the years. Why don’t you wait till morning? It’ll be much safer then. You can stay here and celebrate the start of the new year with us!’

Morning would be too late, party or no party.

‘What about by river?’ I asked, thinking we could take one of the Carrick cots. ‘That would be safer, right?’

‘It will take you longer, but it probably would be safer. Have you ever handled a boat?’

‘Of course.’

Ashling thought about it then shook her head.

‘You don’t know how dangerous the bog lands can be,’ she said, trying again to talk us out of it.

‘That won’t be a problem,’ Winter interrupted, confidently. ‘How will we know when we’re
nearing
Inisrue Marsh?’

Ashling could see there was no point in trying to make us stay. ‘You head north from
Waterford
,’ she began, ‘and follow that direction for some time. When you reach the old St Mullins Bridge—it has six stone arches—you’ll know you haven’t too much further to go. And when you’re close to the marsh area, you’ll find a stone
landing
. You can pull up the cot there.’

‘Thanks, Ash,’ I said, already out the caravan door and heading for the tent, while my friends rushed along behind me.

‘OK,’ I said, back in the tent. ‘Make sure you have everything.’

‘But we’ve gotta try the Caesar shift on the last two lines,’ said Boges.

I shook my head. ‘Not here, we don’t have time. Let’s do it on the way.’

The flap on the tent was suddenly pulled open
once more. ‘Someone else is here!’ shouted
Ashling
. We stopped dead. ‘Hide! There’s no time to get you back into the caravan!’

I rushed to the opening to peer out. A huge wave of relief hit me when I saw who the camp intruder was.

‘It’s just Sharkey!’ I said to my friends. Boges and Winter instantly relaxed. Winter even
giggled
. ‘He’s with us,’ I explained to Ashling.

‘Nelson!’ I said, hurrying out to see him.

‘Cal, my boy, I heard you had a close call last night. I’m so sorry to hear about your uncle,’ he said, uncomfortably stepping forward to give me a hug.

‘Thanks,’ I said, awkwardly stepping out of his embrace. ‘We have to get going—we have three ruins to search and time’s almost out.’

‘I know, I know,’ Sharkey said.

Boges and Winter had joined us now. Boges shook Sharkey’s hand, and Winter leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

‘I just wanted to let you know,’ continued
Sharkey
, ‘that I’ve spoken with Mrs Fitzgerald from the guesthouse and I am going to accompany her to the police station now. I feel confident she’ll be able to identify Vulkan Sligo as her attacker. I also believe I have found something that will prove he was responsible for not only Theophilus
Brinsley’s murder, but also your uncle’s. I will do what I can to ensure he’s found and arrested.’

‘You found something? Evidence?’

‘Sure did,’ he replied. ‘Just call it the luck of the Irish.’

‘He murdered Sheldrake Rathbone, too,’ I added. ‘Admitted it to me himself.’

Sharkey exhaled loudly and cocked his head to one side before continuing. ‘The truth will come out, Cal. With Oriana de la Force behind bars, and only a matter of time before Sligo joins her, I promise your name will be cleared and you’ll have your life back.’

Boges, Winter and I crouched low in one of the Carrick cots. We pushed it out in the icy water and paddled the narrow skiff along the river. The tide was behind us, helping us towards Inisrue Marsh.

It was well and truly dark, except for the glow of lights in the sky above a distant town, and the heavy-duty torch Boges had managed to borrow to help guide our way.

As soon as we’d settled into a steady rhythm, Winter began working on the Riddle by torchlight.

‘I’ll start with a one letter shift,’ she said, struggling to hold her pencil, paper, the Riddle
and torch all at the same time. ‘I have a good feeling about this. A lot of trouble went into hiding these two lines—I’m sure they’re going to tell us where to go next!’