Read Online The Emerald Casket by Richard Newsome - Free Book Online Page B

the night. ‘You can be discreet or you can get things done. Take your pick.’
    The Knight ploughed through the traffic, a tangle of cars, scooters, trucks, motorcycles and autorick-shaws. Even though it was close to one o’clock in the morning, the streets were crawling with people.
    â€˜Is it always this busy?’ Ruby asked, her nose pressed against the tinted window. A motorbike with a gamily of five on the back zipped past them.
    â€˜One thing you’ll find here,’ Mr Hoskins said, lurching into the next lane, ‘is you’re never too far from the next person.’
    Gerald leaned between the front seats and gazed through the windscreen. ‘How come you never told me you worked for Archer Corporation?’
    â€˜You never asked,’ Hoskins replied. ‘Don’t find out stuff unless you ask.’
    Gerald wondered what he had to do to get a straight answer from some people. Mr Hoskins in particular was about as opaque as they came.
    Then Gerald had a sudden flash of inspiration. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Do you remember at Great Aunt Geraldine’s funeral? You said she never came to visit me in Australia because she had to protect something. I’m asking you now: what was it that she was protecting?’
    Mr Hoskins popped a peppermint into his mouth and chewed.
    â€˜I can’t tell you that,’ he said.
    â€˜But you just said you don’t find out things unless you ask!’
    Hoskins continued chewing on his mint. ‘Well, you can’t believe everything you’re told neither. And that’s advice you can take to the bank.’
    Gerald flopped back between Sam and Ruby. Why did Hoskins insist on speaking in riddles?
    Then Gerald had a thought. If Mr Hoskins wasn’t going to be any help, maybe someone else might. ‘Do you know if any of my relatives have seven daughters?’ he asked.
    Hoskins adjusted the rearview mirror and gazed into the backseat.
    â€˜Seven daughters?’
    â€˜That’s right. Geraldine mentioned them in a letter to my mum.’
    Hoskins stared unblinking into the mirror.
    â€˜No,’ he said at last. ‘Never heard of them.’
    Gerald held Hoskins’ gaze for a few seconds, then turned his head to look out the window. For some reason, Gerald thought, Mr Hoskins didn’t seem to trust him.
    The fatigue from the long flight kicked in and Gerald, cocooned in the plush comfort of the Knight XV’s leather seats, drifted off to sleep. At one stage he had a vague sense of the vehicle slowing and of voices outside but he was so shrouded in weariness that it all just washed over him. Then there was a blur of movement as he floated out into the heat of the night. Was he walking? Or dreaming? He could feel his feet plopping down onto the ground, one sluggishly following the other. Was there a whisper in his ear? Then it was cool again. And he was lying on smooth sheets. Head on a pillow of impossible softness. Horizontal bliss. He slept.
    Sir Mason Green said nothing when he visited that night. He stood by the bed, silent.
    This time, Gerald was ready. He knew it was a dream.
    He opened one eye and saw that his imaginary Sir Mason was staring at a piece of paper in his hands. After a minute, he let it slip from his fingers. As it wafted to the floor, Gerald saw it was a photograph of himself, Sam and Ruby. They were on a picnic blanket under a tree at Avonleigh, laughing. Their faces reflected the joys of summer. All looked serene. Apart from the hole burned between Gerald’s eyebrows, and the slash marks across Sam and Ruby’s hearts.
    Gerald flipped his pillow and welcomed the cool side to his cheek, then settled to his slumber.
    He woke to the sound of water. He propped onto his elbows and found that he was in a vast four-poster bed, complete with a canopy trimmed with maroon and gold brocade. If Aladdin’s cave had an adjoining bedroom suite, he seemed to have woken up in