The Medusa Curse
Author: Gabrielle Lord
Date: 2018-01-04 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Mystery
Description: Vicious thieves smash a cursed Medusa statue and steal the supercomputer Sapphire in a terrifying museum raid. Jazz and Phoenix are first on the scene and they soon find themselves in the midst of a dangerous mystery. Their friend and museum owner, Dr Zhang, is the prime suspect, but he is nowhere to be found. Determined to prove him innocent and find Sapphire, Jazz and Phoenix have just 48 HOURS to follow the trail of evidence before it goes cold. Will the amateur investigators discover that a centuries-old curse has struck again, or is something even more sinister going on? The clock is tick
Publisher: Scholastic Australia
Rights: All Right Reserved

Published by Scholastic Australia
Pty Ltd PO Box 579 Gosford NSW 2250
ABN 11 000 614 577
www.scholastic.com.au

Part of the Scholastic Group
Sydney • Auckland • New York • Toronto • London • Mexico City
• New Delhi • Hong Kong • Buenos Aires • Puerto Rico

First edition published by Scholastic Australia Pty Limited, 2018.
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Australia Pty Limited, 2018.
E-PUB/MOBI eISBN: 978-1-76027-250-0

Text © Gabrielle Lord 2018.
Illustration and design copyright © Scholastic Australia, 2018.
Additional illustrations: binary © istockphoto.com/loops7; broken glass © istockphoto.com/Heiko Küverling; Building icon © istockphoto.com/Lyudmila_K; Carpeted floor © PhotographyByMK/shutterstock.com; Casino chips © GraphicsRF/shutterstock.com; classical head © istockphoto.com/manx_in_the_world; Close carpet © Matthew Kay | Dreamstime.com; damage © istockphoto.com/gunnarAssmy; Dried seaweed © Torsakarin | Dreamstime.com; glass fragments © istockphoto.com/tommytucker7182; globe © istockphoto.com/imaginima; golf green © istockphoto.com/cscredon; Identification badge © istockphoto.com/plherrera; Medusa © Davide Catoni/shutterstock.com; Medusa © Tame69/shutterstock.com; Office shelf © Elena Molodavkina | Dreamstime.com; Sand scattering © Anton Starikov | Dreamstime.com; sillhouettes Created by Kjpargeter - Freepik.com; sphere © istockphoto.com/Paffy69; Statue of Pan © Kellydbrown | Dreamstime.com; Television reporter © Ratz Attila | Dreamstime.com; Trident icon © Vectorcarrot/shutterstock.com; Wood tile © 10 FACE/shutterstock.com; Workshop bench © Kitchner Bain | Dreamstime.com; Young man © Lenanet | Dreamstime.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, unless specifically permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 as amended.

THE EXHIBITION

The skull’s hollow eye sockets seemed to stare up at Jazmine Mandell as she examined the figure lying in front of her. While she couldn’t guess the time of death precisely, it was clear the body had been there for some time.

Jazz, an amateur detective, loved investigating crime scenes, but this one had her stumped. She tucked a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear. ‘Can you tell anything from the X-ray?’

Across the room, Phoenix Lyons looked up from where he was examining a scan of the victim’s head, swiping his floppy dark fringe back from his grey eyes. ‘Yep,’ he replied. He pointed to a fracture on the left side of the skull. ‘You can see a jagged-edged hole just here. That indicates a fatal blow.’ He walked back to Jazz’s side and stood looking down at the bandaged body. ‘No doubt about it, this is a murder case.’

Jazz looked at the mummy resting in the decorative coffin in the Antiquities wing of the Knowledge Institute, the museum owned by her friend Mackenzie Zhang’s dad. ‘Shame we’re about 2500 years too late to investigate this case!’ Jazz laughed. ‘We’re not going to be able to find out anything about this mummy that archaeologists haven’t already.’

‘Come on,’ said Phoenix. ‘We’d better get back to Anika.’

Jazz and Phoenix left the marble-columned room and headed for the Velocity wing, using their staff passes to take a short cut through the security office.

Hurrying around a corner, Jazz and Phoenix nearly ran into a person coming the other way. As Jazz stepped back to avoid a collision she bumped into a small marble figure of the Greek god Pan. The statue was surprisingly light. Steadying it just in time, she turned to see one of the museum’s security staff glaring at her.

‘What are you two doing?’ he demanded. ‘You’re not allowed in here.’

‘You’re the one who wasn’t looking where he was going,’ argued Phoenix, waving his access card in the guard’s direction. ‘We are allowed to be here. Dr Zhang organised staff passes for us. We’re helping to set up the new exhibition.’

‘Is that right?’ said the guard. He had more hair in his eyebrows than on his head, and right now they were drawn together in a scowl. ‘Last I checked that was in the Velocity wing. Thaddaway,’ he said, pointing at the doors to the lobby.

‘Hey, look—’ started Phoenix before Jazz pulled on his arm.

‘We’re very sorry—’ she checked the guard’s badge, ‘—Sammy. We’re on our way back there now.’ She ushered Phoenix through the swing doors to the lobby.

There they found Anika. She had taken a break from unpacking artefacts in the Velocity wing to wait for their takeaway dinner delivery. Her rich brown hair was twisted up on the top of her head and her fit runners’ body was concealed behind a brochure stand next to an information desk. She was peering around the stand and out the window towards the visitor car park. Beside her, a steaming bag of fish and chips sent up delicious aromas. When she saw Jazz and Phoenix she motioned them to come over.

‘What are you doing?’ Jazz asked.

‘I’m watching that car,’ said Anika, pointing out a blue van. Jazz and Phoenix looked at her quizzically. Anika went on, sounding a little on edge. ‘It pulled up while I was waiting for the takeaway. But no-one got out. It’s just stayed there, parked out front, waiting.’

‘So? Maybe it belongs to someone who really loves the museum,’ said Phoenix.

‘But the museum’s closed. It’s Friday night!’

Jazz instinctively looked to the number plate. But the lights in the car park weren’t bright enough for her to see it clearly. ‘Maybe it’s waiting for a staff member,’ she offered. ‘There were lots of people here earlier, helping to set up the exhibition.’

‘But staff have their own car park,’ said Anika, holding up a brochure that showed a map of the museum. The staff car park was on the other side of the building.

‘Maybe they’re hoping to break in and steal our fish and chips!’ said Phoenix impatiently. ‘I’m starting to think you’re even more obsessed with seeing crimes everywhere than Jazz is!’

‘You can’t really blame me, can you?’ Anika cried.

Phoenix looked abashed. Just a few months ago, Anika had been kidnapped from her own bedroom by a crazed killer. The kidnapper had demanded a ransom and threatened to harm Anika if her parents contacted the police. So Jazz, a true crime buff, and Phoenix, a forensic assistant, had teamed up to investigate. They managed to solve the crime and rescue Anika, but it had been a near thing.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry,’ said Phoenix. ‘But that food smells so good. My stomach is growling.’

Anika and Jazz leaned in, and sure enough they heard a rumbling sound. They cracked up.

‘OK, I’m convinced! Let’s eat this and then go finish up in the Velocity wing,’ Anika said. She opened the bag and the friends started eating, the mysterious van forgotten.

SAPPHIRE AND MEDUSA

The Velocity wing was new. Building it had been a huge investment by Mack’s dad, Dr Zhang. But the massive risk had produced an architectural triumph. The wing was made up of a long gallery of glass and steel. Triangular wooden panels formed a floating ceiling at the entry from the lobby. At intervals, flowing steel sculptures doubled as powered alcoves to house technological displays ranging from 3D models of future cityscapes to robots and self-driving cars. Three of the wing’s four walls were completely made of glass. The glass was designed to appear opaque from outside the building, but from the inside it was transparent, almost invisible, giving guests a full view of landscaped gardens sloping down to the road below.

Because of the stunning new wing, Dr Zhang had scored a major coup. Sir Robert Grimshaw, the billionaire scientist and art lover, had chosen the Knowledge Institute for the world premiere of his exhibition, titled ‘From Ancient Times to Future Worlds’. On display would be beautiful antiquities, including a statue from ancient Greece known as the Grimshaw Medusa, which would leave the Grimshaw estate for the first time in over two hundred years. Along with the Medusa would be Sir Robert’s contribution to the ‘future’ part of the exhibition—Sapphire, the world’s first crystalline quantum supercomputer. Its physical appearance was a closely-guarded secret.

Mack had asked Jazz, Anika and Phoenix if they would help the curators set up the exhibition in return for free tickets to the celebrity-studded opening party. Thanks to the group’s work that afternoon, many of the exhibits were now unpacked and in position, often to show an ancient artefact next to its modern counterpart.

Dinner finished, the three friends strolled around the wing. At the beginning there was a Stone Age obsidian spearhead next to a modern obsidian medical blade, both sharpened using the same ancient technique. Further in, Phoenix had helped arrange specialised farming drones below hanging boomerangs and fish traps. Nearby, ancient Egyptian instruments were set into a steel alcove containing a modern synthesiser that could be activated by museum visitors to play samples of what the ancient instruments would have sounded like. Jazz’s favourite was near one of the glass walls where clever lighting allowed a sundial to display the same time as a state-of-the-art atomic clock.

But it was the enormous statue of the Grimshaw Medusa, with her stern expression and snaky hair, which dominated the far end of the gallery. At two metres tall, she appeared to loom protectively over the other exhibits. The glass wall behind her revealed flowerbeds in full bloom and a lush green lawn.

Jazz circled the Medusa, taking in the delicate carving and rich details; the Medusa’s stern, classically chiselled profile, her partly-open mouth and her head of snakes. ‘It’s beautifully sculpted,’ Jazz said. She took out her phone and snapped a photo. ‘A picture can’t do it justice, though. In comparison to the real thing it’s just so . . . flat.’

‘Check this out,’ said Phoenix. He rummaged around in his backpack before coming over with his laptop and a small handheld device. The device looked a bit like something a security officer at an airport would use for a body scan. When Phoenix switched it on, it sent out a narrow line of red light. ‘It’s a portable laser scanner,’ he explained. ‘Wait until you see what it can do.’ Phoenix dragged a packing crate over to the statue and climbed onto it. He ran the laser scanner all around Medusa then turned to his laptop, waving Jazz over. A 3D image of the statue appeared on the screen. The level of detail captured by the scanner was phenomenal.

‘Not so flat, huh?’ Phoenix boasted. ‘Look, I can manipulate the image and turn it side to side.’

Jazz stood behind him, arms crossed. ‘Impressive,’ she remarked, ‘but it still can’t compare to the real thing.’

‘It must be tough for Mack to be missing out on seeing all of this before the crowds arrive,’ said Anika.

‘How’s her mum going?’ Phoenix asked.

‘She’s slowly getting better,’ Jazz explained. ‘But she still needs Mack to take care of her little brother after school.’

‘Poor Mack,’ Anika said sympathetically. ‘When the museum almost closed down, it was a bad time for the whole family. No wonder Mrs Zhang got sick.’

‘Well they won’t have to worry about the museum anymore. This exhibition will be huge! Everyone will want to see Sapphire,’ said Phoenix. ‘I can’t believe Sir Robert will be bringing it here tonight!’

‘It’s just some crazy computer,’ said Anika.

‘Crazy computer? Don’t you realise that it’s the most fantastic, awesome and brilliant piece of new technology on the planet? It is as priceless and irreplaceable as that ancient statue,’ Phoenix exclaimed, pointing to Medusa. ‘Sapphire is the world’s first crystalline quantum supercomputer, designed to run the most advanced artificial intelligence software ever. Do you even know what it’s capable of?’

‘You’ve told us a thousand times!’ replied Anika. She assumed an arrogant expression and made her voice slightly deeper to imitate Phoenix. ‘It’s like the greatest hacker of all time, it can uncover weaknesses in any and all websites.’

On a roll about his favourite topic, Phoenix ignored her sarcasm and carried on. ‘That’s right. It’s an ethical, automated probe. Called a white-hat program. A failsafe way to test internet security.’

‘That’s what you call it,’ said Jazz. ‘Anything with the ability to bypass firewalls like that sounds like the opposite to me—a security breach waiting to happen.’

But Phoenix shook his head emphatically. ‘No, it’s just the opposite. Sapphire will enhance internet security! Governments and corporations all over the world are lining up to have it test and patch their systems.’

‘It’s the Medusa statue that I’m interested in,’ said Jazz. ‘It’s one of a kind!’

‘Hey, check it out!’ exclaimed Anika, showing them her phone. ‘There’s a news piece about the exhibition.’ She propped up her phone for them all to see:

‘What it doesn’t mention,’ said Anika, putting her phone down, ‘is that Medusa is supposed to be cursed.’

‘And you think I’m an idiot for being excited by artificial intelligence,’ scoffed Phoenix.

‘It’s true!’ said Jazz.

‘Who was Medusa?’ Phoenix asked. ‘A goddess?’

‘No. She was one of the Gorgons in Greek legend, a sort of monster. It’s said that whoever looked on her face was immediately turned to stone. The Grimshaw statue was found near Naxos in the Greek Isles.’

Phoenix wiggled his fingers ominously. ‘We’ve all looked at her, none of us have turned to stone!’

‘That’s the mythology,’ said Jazz. ‘A very old inscription on the base of the statue warns that if ever it’s moved from its original position outside one of Athena’s temples, catastrophe will ensue.’

‘Superstition!’ Phoenix rolled his grey eyes. ‘Catastrophes happen all the time. It’s got nothing to do with statues. Unless one falls on top of you! I don’t believe in curses. I believe in modern technology.’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Anika, bringing up an article on her phone. ‘Just a couple of months ago, while they were loading the statue onto the container ship, a worker fell from some scaffolding and died.’

‘Workplace accident. Medusa had nothing to do with that. And if you want to avoid catastrophe, Sapphire is the way to go. It’s a quantum leap. It uses particles to store information. Imagine that, loading information onto an electron!’

‘All I can imagine right now is being in trouble with my dad if I’m not outside in five minutes for him to pick me up,’ said Anika.

‘Really? You’re not going to stick around to meet Sir Robert?’ asked Phoenix, incredulous.

‘We’re not all smitten with Sir Robert, Phoenix,’ Anika said, rolling her eyes. ‘But maybe if his son Toby turned up, I’d stick around,’ she joked, referring to the handsome heir to the Grimshaw estate.

Jazz shook her head. ‘No chance of that. I don’t even know if Dr Zhang has met him.’

‘Isn’t he co-director of the exhibition or something?’ Phoenix asked.

‘Executive consultant,’ Anika confirmed as she picked up her jacket and stuffed it into her schoolbag. ‘He’s meant to be Sir Robert’s representative in Sydney, but all he seems to do is go to parties and get photographed. I don’t think he’s even been near the museum.’ Her phone chimed and she pulled it out of her pocket to check the message. ‘Dad’s here,’ she explained. ‘I better run. Catch you both later!’

‘Bye,’ said Phoenix.

‘See you,’ grinned Jazz.

‘Let’s go find Dr Zhang,’ said Phoenix when Anika had gone. ‘I want to know when Sir Robert’s getting here!’

* * *

As they came level with Dr Zhang’s office, Jazz and Phoenix heard the sound of angry raised voices coming from inside. They paused, looking at each other uncertainly, standing in the corridor not far from the partly-open door.

‘You might be head of security, Gustav,’ Dr Zhang was saying, ‘but I run this museum. Sir Robert is happy to display Sapphire to the public and if he’s happy, I’m happy.’

Gustav was the security guard who had signed off their key passes.

‘I’m not being unreasonable,’ they heard Gustav say. ‘I’m simply presenting the facts. We don’t have enough staff to guard Sapphire. Can’t you put on some extra people? Just for the duration of the exhibition?’

‘You know we don’t have the funds for that. Besides, I trust the staff we have. I don’t want to invite trouble by rushing out to hire strangers at the last minute.’

‘Dr Zhang, you are placing a priceless computer in jeopardy. Would you put Tutankhamun’s gold mask in a wing that can’t be properly guarded?’

‘That’s quite enough! Sir Robert is satisfied with our arrangements, and so am I. If you’re not, then maybe you need to be more efficient with your resourcing.’

‘But Dr Zhang—’

Gustav was interrupted by the sound of Dr Zhang’s mobile ringing.

‘I need to take this call in private. Please leave!’

Jazz and Phoenix scampered out of the way as Gustav came out of the office. His radio crackled to life with static and a voice requesting assistance in the Antiquities wing. ‘Copy that, Sammy, on my way,’ he grunted and strode down the corridor, slamming the door behind him.

Unsure how long Dr Zhang’s phone call would take, Jazz and Phoenix hovered uncertainly outside of his office.

‘I can’t do that!’ they heard Dr Zhang exclaim. ‘Don’t you understand? I may have bent the rules a little in the past, but what you’re asking is quite impossible.’

‘Bent the rules?’ Jazz repeated in a whisper. ‘What does he mean? What can’t he do?’

‘Sh!’ said Phoenix. ‘Listen.’

‘It’s outrageous! There’s no way we could get away with that. We’d have police hunting us down from all over the world.’ There was a brief silence and then, his voice even louder, ‘I said, tell him no! I’m finished with this business! I won’t do it!’

Jazz and Phoenix tried their best to fade into the background as Dr Zhang came storming out the door. They needn’t have bothered. Angry shoulders hunched up around his ears, hands clenched, he didn’t so much as glance in their direction. Then his phone rang again. Dr Zhang hesitated and brushed his hand through his neat, black and grey hair—it was clear to see he was considering whether to answer or not. Finally, he returned to his office to take the call. Instinctively, Jazz and Phoenix crept back to the door to listen.

‘I don’t care who you are!’ they heard him say. ‘I’m done with this whole operation.’

After a short pause Dr Zhang spoke again, this time in a very different voice. ‘You wouldn’t dare . . .’

Then there was silence. This time when Dr Zhang left his office, he was a very different man. He walked slowly, head down, pausing every now and then like someone who has had terrible news and forgotten for the moment how to put one foot in front of another.

Jazz approached him. ‘Dr Zhang?’

‘Jazz,’ he said, speaking more to the carpet than to her. ‘I’m afraid I have to go.’

‘But what about Sir Robert?’ protested Phoenix.

‘It’s no use . . .’ Dr Zhang looked up. Jazz thought she saw despair and terror in his eyes. ‘Please just tell him I’m so very sorry.’

With that, he trudged up the corridor past the security desks and disappeared through the heavy swing doors to the lobby.

‘What was that all about?’ Jazz asked, realising she’d been holding her breath.

‘Whatever it was,’ said Phoenix, gazing after Dr Zhang, ‘it wasn’t good.’

CRASH!

Bewildered, Jazz and Phoenix went back inside the Velocity wing to wait for Sir Robert. ‘I hope Dr Zhang is alright,’ Jazz said. ‘Do you think I should call Mack?’

Phoenix shrugged. ‘And say what? We don’t know—’

They were interrupted by the sound of the Velocity wing doors opening. Sir Robert Grimshaw, elegantly dressed, strode confidently towards them. He was wheeling a large trolley on which sat two irregular shapes, both with thick coverings.

Without speaking, Sir Robert carefully lifted the larger shape off the trolley and placed it in the centre of a deep green rug a few metres away from the Medusa. Then he moved the trolley with the other object to one side. Only then did Sir Robert notice Jazz and Phoenix.

‘Ah,’ he said, putting out a hand in greeting. ‘You two must be the young museum helpers I’ve heard about. Pleased to meet you. Your names are?’

‘Phoenix Lyons.’

‘Jazmine—Jazz Mandell.’ They said their names almost together, shaking hands with the tall man.

‘Welcome to the Knowledge Institute, Sir Robert,’ Jazz said politely.

‘No need for the “sir”; Robert will do nicely. I must say, the room is looking splendid. You’ve done a fine job.’ He looked around. ‘Where is Dr Zhang?’

‘He, um, had to go somewhere,’ stammered Jazz, not sure what to tell Sir Robert.

Sir Robert’s cheerful face clouded over and he anxiously ran a hand through his thick silver hair. ‘That’s rather a bother,’ he murmured.

Worried Sir Robert would go looking for Dr Zhang without showing them the supercomputer, Phoenix pointed to the object on the rug, ‘Is that Sapphire?’

The man brightened. ‘Yes, it is! I suppose you’re dying to have a look. Certainly safer than looking at Medusa!’ He chuckled as he unzipped the supercomputer’s tough protective cover. It fell softly onto the rug to reveal a clear glass case containing Sapphire.

Jazz felt like the first time she’d looked through the window of her diving mask and glimpsed the coral palaces and brilliant swirling fish of the Great Barrier Reef. It had taken her breath away.

‘Wow,’ Phoenix breathed.

Standing on a slim column, stood a multifaceted crystal. About the size of an apple, it glittered like an enormous blue diamond under the lights.

‘Breathtaking, isn’t it?’ said Sir Robert.

‘But where’s the computer?’ Jazz asked, dazzled by the blue crystal.

‘That is the computer.’

‘What about the super chip?’ Phoenix asked, puzzled.

‘That is the quantum chip!’

‘You mean that whole crystal is the computer and the chip?’ Phoenix quizzed.

‘Correct. It’s carrying quadrillions of bits of information. Perhaps you’ve heard of the binary system, used by most modern computers?’

‘Sure,’ said Phoenix. ‘They store information in binary digits—“bits” represented by 0 or 1.’

‘Precisely!’ said Sir Robert. ‘But quantum computers use quantum bits—“qubits”, which can have a value of 0 or 1 or amazingly, both 0 and 1 at the same time.’

‘So it can hold more information,’ mused Jazz.

‘Infinitely more! Sapphire will revolutionise the way we humans do things. It’s every bit as important as electricity.’ Sir Robert’s excitement and delight were infectious. ‘See that column it’s sitting on? That’s part of the hardware too. It’s a miniature multi-frequency broadcast tower that the AI manipulates to conceal the white-hat programs’ activity from the rest of the network. Thanks to the quantum technology, Sapphire’s programs can secretly investigate websites, scanning for weaknesses or suspicious activity in a matter of seconds.’

Both Jazz and Phoenix were silenced for a moment by the immense power of the sparkling quantum computer.

‘That will make detective work much easier,’ Jazz said at last.

‘Yes, and that’s not all. Sapphire can be used for medical research, too. It’s capable of high-speed next-generation sequencing of biological samples. Researchers can use this to find cures for diseases.’

‘How do you turn it on?’ asked Phoenix, who couldn’t wait to see the supercomputer in operation.

‘Ah, now this is part of its genius,’ Sir Robert enthused. ‘Criminal organisations all over the world are eager to steal the technology behind Sapphire. Attempts have already been made! So, to keep my prototype secure, I’ve added an extra level of protection. Sapphire can only be activated by a Frequency Tripled Titanium Sapphire laser—but we call it FTTS for short,’ he said, pronouncing the initials as ‘Eff-Tiss’.

At the mention of criminal organisations, Jazz felt her detective instincts kick in. ‘What attempts?’ she asked. ‘Who tried to steal Sapphire?’

To her surprise it was Phoenix who answered.

‘Delgado,’ he said. ‘Publicly, he’s a famous tech developer . . . but everyone in the industry knows he’s a ruthless cracker.’

‘Cracker?’ Jazz hadn’t heard this term before.

‘A black-hat hacker, a hacker who breaks into systems for selfish or criminal reasons.’ Phoenix explained. ‘Delgado was behind an attempted attack on Sapphire during the installation of the AI software.’

Sir Robert looked startled. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘But how did you know?’

Phoenix shrugged arrogantly. ‘I’m a hacker, too. But I want to be a white hat. So I’ll need to try and stay ahead of guys like Delgado.’

‘I heard about that case against Delgado!’ Jazz realised. ‘But he was never convicted, was he? He walked free. Case didn’t even go to trial.’

Sir Robert nodded. Then he smiled wickedly and said, ‘Delgado will be at the exhibition opening.’

Jazz was shocked. ‘But why?’

‘Because I invited him. He’s desperate to see Sapphire up close. And I want to be there to see his face when he realises that there’s no chance he can replicate the device or its software with his grubby little mind. And even if he could, there would still be FTTS to contend with.’

Jazz blinked and even Phoenix looked impressed.

Sir Robert continued. ‘It needs to be tuned to very specific settings.’ He lifted the cover off the second mysterious item on the trolley.

Jazz and Phoenix saw a complicated piece of equipment that looked like a cross between a power tool and a laser pointer. Shiny and covered in jewel-like buttons, it was about the size of a small drill.

‘This is the FTTS laser.’ Sir Robert let the cover fall again. ‘It can produce infinite sequences of powerful beams in a range of frequencies. Of course the sequence of the frequencies to activate Sapphire is top secret. That secret is kept in one place and one place only.’

‘Where’s that?’ asked Phoenix.

Sir Robert’s eyes twinkled as he tapped his forehead. ‘Right here. I’m the only one who can make Sapphire operational and I want to share my vision with the public. Everyone should have a chance to see the next advance in computing science before it goes into a bank vault.’

‘Do the FTTS frequencies trigger the electron traps?’ asked Phoenix.

Sir Robert looked at Phoenix admiringly. ‘I can see you know a little more about this than the average chap.’

Phoenix smiled proudly. ‘Yes, sir. I found weaknesses in my school’s network last year—’

‘And got suspended for it,’ Jazz remarked dryly.

Phoenix ignored her, and went on, ‘I was impressed by the reports of Sapphire’s white-hat programs, so I’ve been trying to make an app version of one of them.’

Sir Robert opened a leather wallet and took out two business cards, handing one to each of them. ‘Join my son and me for tea any day next week, and we can discuss your ideas.’ He smiled at them. ‘I imagine you’ve already met Toby. Has he been working hard, getting this place ready?’

Sir Robert seemed to expect an answer to this, so Phoenix shrugged awkwardly. He didn’t know how to tell Sir Robert that Toby hadn’t been near the place. He wanted to impress the billionaire, not make him angry. ‘We haven’t met him yet,’ he said finally.

Jazz stayed silent. She wondered how well the old man really knew his son.

‘Ah, no matter,’ Sir Robert said. ‘Come to think of it, I haven’t spoken to him much myself lately.’ He frowned. ‘You know, Toby really should have been here tonight, to keep an eye on things.’

He turned towards Sapphire and FTTS, checking the set-up of the exhibit for himself. When he next looked at Jazz and Phoenix, he was smiling again. ‘Well, it all looks shipshape!’ he said.

Then Sir Robert turned his attention to the huge marble statue of Medusa. ‘Now, I must inspect my other treasure,’ he declared, walking over to it.

He climbed up onto a packing crate to get on eye level with the statue. It was the crate Phoenix had stood on earlier when he’d scanned Medusa’s head.

‘It’s good to see you, Medusa,’ Sir Robert said. ‘I trust you travelled well?’

Jazz and Phoenix exchanged a smirk at this eccentric billionaire talking to a statue as if it were a member of the family. But their smiles vanished when Sir Robert suddenly stumbled off the crate, staggering back as if someone had punched him in the chest.

He stood staring, a look of deathly horror on his now white face. All traces of the chatty, friendly man of just a moment ago had vanished. His heavy brows contracted in a furious frown above shocked eyes. ‘Unbelievable! This is appalling!’ he cried. ‘Where the hell is Zhang?’

Sir Robert turned to Jazz and Phoenix, his face dark. ‘You two,’ he barked. ‘Go and find Dr Zhang. I want him here right now.’

As Jazz and Phoenix hurried out of the room, they heard Sir Robert on the phone, yelling at someone. ‘I don’t care what you’re doing! Explain yourself immediately or you won’t get another cent out of me!’

‘What just happened in there?’ Phoenix asked once they were out of earshot. ‘We’ve got no idea where Dr Zhang went,’ he added.

‘Maybe we should find Gustav, the security guy,’ suggested Jazz.

‘Good idea.’

But when they reached the security office, there was no-one manning the desk. ‘Should we go check the Antiquities wing?’ asked Phoenix.

Jazz turned a slow circle, taking in the whole office. It was very quiet and still. Too still, she thought.

‘Phoenix, look!’ she said, pointing to four blank screens. ‘The security monitors aren’t running.’

He frowned. ‘Seems strange when Gustav was so worried about not having enough security for the night.’

‘I’m going to call him,’ Jazz said, pointing to a mobile number displayed on the desk.

But before she could make the call she was startled by a big black cat jumping onto the desk, sending papers and folders flying as it bounded again to land on a shelf next to a brass antique clock.

Phoenix jumped. ‘What’s that cat doing in here?’

‘I don’t know. But something very weird is going on.’ Jazz scrambled to pick up the fallen documents. ‘First Dr Zhang acts all mysterious and disappears. Then Sir Robert looks at the face of Medusa and goes kind of crazy . . . And now Security has gone AWOL!’

The cat froze, paw in the air, as the clock chimed seven.

A tremendous crash and squealing sound ripped through the silent museum.

‘What was that?!’ Jazz cried.

‘If it wasn’t impossible,’ said Phoenix, ‘I’d say it sounded like a car crash!’

47:59

Jazz and Phoenix ran out into the lobby, feet pounding. The sound of an engine revving came from the Velocity wing and they headed towards the noise, racing past the new exhibits. A smell of car exhaust filled the air.

A car crash in the museum? How crazy is this? Jazz thought.

About halfway inside the new wing, there was no sign of any car, but Jazz and Phoenix both stopped, shocked by what lay before them. The glass case housing Sapphire had shattered and the rug on the floor below was in tatters.

Phoenix rushed to the display.

‘Is the computer OK?’ Jazz could barely raise her voice above a whisper.

Phoenix turned to Jazz, his face white with anguish. ‘It’s . . . gone,’ was all he could manage.

‘What?’

‘Sapphire, FTTS—they’re not here!’

‘But . . . how?’ Jazz felt a cool breeze ruffle her hair.

She turned to see where the breeze was coming from, only to realise that the central glass wall was gone! The triple-glazed glass panels had been smashed into tiny pieces that glittered where they lay. Muddy tyre marks made a wild arc on the wooden floor. Medusa was no more; the glorious statue lay in pieces.

It took Jazz a few moments to work out what had happened. They had heard a car crash. Ram-raiders had driven through the landscaped garden and smashed their car into the glass wall. Now they were speeding away with the most valuable computer in the world.

‘We’ve got to get help!’ she exclaimed.

Thudding footsteps approached and Gustav ran in, closely followed by Sammy, the security guard they had argued with earlier.

‘What the hell’s happened here?’ Gustav demanded, halting in his tracks as he saw Sapphire’s ruined case and the shattered glass wall. ‘Did you two see anything?’

‘No,’ said Jazz. ‘We heard the crash from the security office and by the time we got here, Sapphire was gone.’

‘Where’s Dr Zhang?’ demanded Gustav. ‘He was supposed to be guarding Sapphire.’ Jazz and Phoenix exchanged glances. It was the million-dollar question. Where was Dr Zhang?

‘He’s not answering the radio,’ replied Sammy.

A low noise drew their attention to the wreckage of the Medusa. Was the statue moaning? Jazz’s hands flew to her mouth as she caught a glimpse of a pair of shoes on the floor beneath a large chunk of marble. ‘Sir Robert!’ she cried, and ran forward to find the billionaire lying on the floor behind the statue’s plinth. A pool of red spread outwards from underneath his head.

‘Sammy, bring the first-aid kit and get the police on the phone,’ Gustav ordered, kneeling down beside the injured man. ‘Jazmine, can you please call the ambulance?’

Jazz nodded and made the call. By the time she hung up, Phoenix and Gustav had moved the pieces of marble off Sir Robert and were bandaging his wounds. The billionaire appeared to be unconscious.

A distant sound of sirens made Jazz look towards the road below the garden. Broken shards of clear glass lay all around. There were muddy footprints in amongst the tyre marks that led to and from Sapphire’s ruined display case. Then, beneath the case, something on the rug caught her eye—red and orange fragments. Not glass, but made out of something else. Another set of broken fragments lay nearby on the wooden floor. Her detective instincts kicking in, Jazz quickly snapped some photos of the coloured objects. As she stepped back to get a better angle, she bumped into Phoenix, who had come up behind her.

‘Watch it!’ he shouted, falling awkwardly onto the mess of footprints and tyre marks. Mud stuck to his jeans as he struggled back to his feet.

‘Oh! Sorry, Phoenix,’ Jazz reached down to help him up. The remains of Medusa’s marble head lay on the floor nearby and, almost unwillingly, Jazz looked down to meet the statue’s malevolent gaze. Suddenly she began to shiver in the cold night air.

The sound of sirens grew louder, until the empty space left by the shattered glass wall was filled with red and blue flashing lights. Jazz and Phoenix moved out of the way as emergency personnel started running in.

While the police spoke with the security guards, the enormity of what had happened suddenly hit Jazz.

‘The curse of Medusa,’ she whispered. ‘It’s happened again.’ Feeling shaky, she slumped to the floor near one of the remaining glass walls.

‘Are you OK?’ asked Phoenix.

Jazz shook her head. ‘It’s a catastrophe. Sir Robert is badly hurt and Sapphire is missing. If that wasn’t bad enough, Dr Zhang was relying on them to keep his museum afloat. Everything he’s worked for—it’s all going to come crashing down.’

Phoenix watched as Sir Robert was loaded carefully onto a stretcher. Then he slumped down beside Jazz. ‘The head wound looked bad,’ he said grimly. ‘And Sir Robert’s the only one with the frequencies that can activate Sapphire. If it’s found and he doesn’t recover . . . we all lose. That computer was going to revolutionise technology as we know it.’

‘We have to do something,’ said Jazz. ‘The first 48 HOURS after a crime are vital for gathering the freshest and most useful evidence to help solve it.’

‘Yes, but look at the place,’ Phoenix indicated the investigators already crawling all over the Velocity wing. ‘Our staff passes won’t help us get past police tape.’

‘We have to find a way. We need to help Sir Robert and Dr Zhang. If we locate Sapphire we could get the launch back on track!’

‘But how?’ Phoenix asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Jazz.

The two of them sat, dejected, backs against the wall, contemplating the scene of destruction around them.

‘At least none of the other artefacts have been affected,’ Jazz said.

‘The way the mud’s tracked,’ Phoenix commented, ‘they must have driven up the grass from the road, smashed through the glass sideways and skidded to a halt on that rug. Smart. If they’d come in head-on, at full speed, they would have destroyed Sapphire as well as Medusa.’

‘Sir Robert’s lucky to be alive. All that marble falling on him . . .’ she trailed off, remembering.

‘Medusa wasn’t as heavy as she looked. Gustav and I didn’t have any trouble moving that bit on his legs,’ Phoenix remarked. ‘I reckon the car had already broken Medusa into pieces when that big chunk knocked Sir Robert to the ground. It was probably the floor that knocked him out. I hope the blood around his head was just from the shards of glass he fell on.’

Jazz noticed the police looking over at them and motioned for Phoenix to lean in.

‘They’re going to ask us questions,’ said Jazz. ‘Why do I feel so nervous?’

‘We didn’t do anything wrong,’ Phoenix replied.

‘What about the phone calls we heard?’ asked Jazz. ‘Dr Zhang was under some kind of pressure. And it sounded like Sir Robert was pretty mad at him too.’

Phoenix indicated the scene—Sir Robert on the stretcher, the security guards answering questions, police officers taking photographs and making notes, the smashed remnants of Medusa. ‘Do you think Dr Zhang was somehow involved in this?’

‘No!’ said Jazz sharply. ‘But we should mention the phone calls.’

‘My advice? Don’t bring them up. You’ll just get your friend’s dad in trouble. The calls probably had nothing to do with any of this.’

Jazz looked pained. ‘I can’t lie to the police.’

‘You won’t have to. Do you think they’re going to ask, “And did you happen to overhear any worrying conversations between the museum director and an unknown party?”’

‘No,’ admitted Jazz.

‘Just stick with the crime scene,’ said Phoenix as two officers came their way. ‘What you saw and didn’t see. If they do ask about Dr Zhang, we can just tell them that he seemed a bit stressed out. That’s no lie.’

Jazz stood up as a slim police officer approached, her fair hair pulled back in a French roll.

‘I’m Detective Sergeant Jan Sheppard. You two were the first on the scene?’ Her voice was as crisp as her white shirt and navy suit.

‘Yes,’ Jazz said, as confidently as she dared. ‘We’ve been helping to set up for the exhibition opening.’

‘Where were you at the time of the crash?’

Jazz and Phoenix told her about meeting Sir Robert and seeing his shocked reaction to the Medusa statue.

‘He got angry all of a sudden. He sent us to find Dr Zhang,’ Jazz said.

Detective Sheppard nodded and made a note. ‘Did you find him? Dr Zhang, I mean.’

Phoenix shook his head.

‘We’d seen him earlier,’ Jazz explained after a short pause. ‘He seemed worried about something. He told us he had to go.’

‘Do you know where?’ she asked, not looking up from her writing.

‘No.’

‘Did you touch anything, move anything when you came back here and saw what had happened?’

Phoenix looked a bit guilty. ‘I slipped on the footprints and tyre tracks in the mud. I, ah, probably messed them up . . . sorry.’

‘That’s OK; it’s good that you let me know.’ She smiled reassuringly and took down their details. ‘I recognise your names. You two were involved in a kidnapping case back in March, right?’

‘Yes, my friend Anika was kidnapped,’ Jazz explained. ‘We found her.’

‘Well done. But don’t go looking for trouble this time, alright?’ Her face was serious. ‘The best way for you to help out is by coming down to the station tomorrow morning to sign witness statements and answer any more questions we may have.’

They nodded their agreement, glad the interview was over.

‘Now, do you have some way to get home?’ Detective Sheppard asked.

‘Don’t look at me,’ said Phoenix. ‘Mum’s out tonight and Dad doesn’t do unscheduled pick-ups.’ Phoenix’s fraught relationship with his father hadn’t yet recovered from when he’d been suspended for hacking the school’s servers.

Jazz turned to Phoenix. ‘Mum’s due to pick me up any minute now. We can drop you home.’

Detective Sheppard nodded. ‘Good. After tonight’s events I know it might be hard, but try and get some rest and then we’ll talk in the morning, OK?’

Jazz and Phoenix quickly gathered their things and made their way to the museum’s main entrance. Outside, a rabble of journalists fought to get a picture of Sir Robert being loaded into an ambulance. Another detective stood in front of the cameras making a statement.

‘. . . We don’t currently know the extent of his injuries, but Sir Robert will receive the best of care in a private location. A police guard will be in attendance around the clock in case the attackers make another attempt to harm him. We have no further comment.’

The cameras turned to the doors to the museum as Jazz and Phoenix walked out. Suddenly they were bombarded with questions.

‘What were you doing at the museum?’

‘Did you see the raid?’

‘What has happened to Sapphire?’

The two of them ducked their heads and hustled their way through the throng to where Jazz’s mum waited in the car. Once inside, a welcome quiet descended upon them.

But Jazz didn’t feel quiet. She felt worried. They had no plan and already there was less than 48 HOURS to gather evidence to lead them to Sapphire and get the exhibition launch back on track. Failure to do so meant catastrophe for the Knowledge Institute and for Mack’s family.

46:39

Mrs Mandell was horrified to hear how close Jazz had been to the whole incident. Jazz’s mother was so upset that she drove straight home, forgetting to drop off Phoenix. As she did a U-turn to head back to his house, a dark vehicle accelerated and zoomed past, narrowly missing them.

‘I’ve had enough near misses with cars tonight,’ said Jazz grimly.

Once they arrived at Phoenix’s, Mrs Mandell looked at the dark windows and turned to him with concern. ‘Is anyone home? I don’t feel right just dropping you off to an empty house.’

‘I’ll be fine, Mrs Mandell,’ Phoenix replied stoically. ‘I’m used to taking care of myself.’ With that he hauled himself out of the car and lumbered up the front path. Jazz was surprised that, in truth, he did seem a bit upset.

Back at her own house, Jazz found her older brother Tim in the kitchen, watching the news on his tablet. ‘You’re a star, sis,’ he said, showing Jazz the footage of her and Phoenix leaving the museum.

‘Can I get you something to eat?’ asked her mother.

‘We’d just had fish and chips before it all . . . happened,’ Jazz said, finding herself strangely short for words.

Her mum looked at her with concern. ‘I’m making you some cocoa. You’ve had quite a shock. First Anika’s kidnapping, and now this.’ She dumped cocoa and sugar into a mug. ‘It’s hard not to panic every time you walk out the door!’

Her mother was trying to make light of the situation, but Jazz could see the genuine concern etched on her face. She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘I’m OK, Mum, really. It was all a big shock, I admit, but what I’m really worried about is the Zhangs.’

‘It’s no secret that the museum was struggling,’ Mrs Mandell shook her head as she handed Jazz the steaming drink. ‘This robbery certainly isn’t going to help matters! Promise me that you won’t investigate this, Jazmine. Let the police do their job and stay out of it this time. This break-in is a serious crime. Promise me?’

Jazz gave a tiny nod and sipped the cocoa. Her mother had only referred directly to the break-in. It was the exhibition and the future of the museum that Jazz was determined to rescue. Avoiding having to make a more direct reply, she collected her mug and stood up from the table. ‘Thanks for the cocoa, Mum. I’ll take it upstairs.’

Jazz could feel her mother’s eyes on her back as she left the kitchen and headed to her room. Once there, she closed the bedroom door and sent Mack a text.

* * *

Jazz got ready for bed while she waited. After almost an hour, she started to wonder if Mack had forgotten. But then her phone buzzed.

‘Mack!’

‘Hi, Jazz. Sorry, the police left a little while ago, but I had to put Cooper to bed.’

‘What about your dad?’ Jazz asked. ‘Isn’t he there?’

‘He never came home,’ Mack said. ‘We have no idea where he is.’

‘He didn’t call your mum?’

‘No. Did you see him at the museum?’

‘Phoenix and I ran into him coming out of his office,’ Jazz said carefully. ‘He looked worried, but he was OK.’

‘The police seem to think he had something to do with the robbery.’ Mack sounded miserable.

‘What? No way!’

‘I know,’ Mack said. ‘But they talked about him like he was some kind of criminal on the run.’

Both girls were silent for a moment. Jazz couldn’t believe that the police suspected Dr Zhang. The museum meant everything to him.

‘When did you see Dad?’ Mack asked. ‘Could you prove he was somewhere else when Sapphire was taken?’

‘To give him an alibi? I don’t think we can. We only saw him a while before the robbery. We were trying to find him again when it happened. I’m sorry, Mack.’

‘Th-that’s OK.’

Jazz’s heart went out to her friend. ‘Mack, you know how Phoenix and I found Anika when she went missing? Well, if your dad doesn’t turn up by morning, maybe we could try and find him, too.’

Mack didn’t answer right away, and when she did, she sounded uncertain. ‘Jazz, I don’t know . . .’

Jazz flushed and tried to backtrack, ‘I mean, only if you want us to, and we wouldn’t interfere with the police investigation. I’d call Detective Sheppard right away if we found any—’

‘It’s not that,’ Mack said. ‘I’d love your help. Dad’s missing and Mum’s sick. I have no-one else I can count on.’ She paused, and it sounded like she was trying not to cry. ‘I just don’t want you to be in any danger. You and Phoenix almost got killed trying to find Anika.’

‘Oh, Mack.’ Jazz felt a rush of affection. ‘I promise, we’ll be really careful. We’ll leave anything dangerous to the police, we’ll tell them everything.’

‘No,’ Mack said with unexpected force. ‘That detective thinks Dad is guilty. I don’t trust her. Please, just promise that you’ll come to me with whatever you find, and then I’ll decide when we go to the police for help. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Jazz said, smiling.

There was a knock on her bedroom door. ‘Jazz, are you on the phone?’ It was her mum. ‘Don’t stay up too late, we need to be at the police station early tomorrow.’

‘OK!’ she called out. ‘I’m just hanging up now.’

‘You gotta go?’ said Mack.

‘Yeah, sorry. Look, I’ll talk to Phoenix tomorrow and see what we can do.’

Jazz ended the call and climbed into bed, but her mind was racing. In the first 48 HOURS, every second counted.

She switched on her tablet and opened up CrimeSeen, the investigating app she used for all her cases. She found her fingers hovering over the screen. What to add? She had frustratingly little to work with, but that didn’t stop the clock ticking in her head.

Then Jazz remembered the photos she’d snapped at the scene. She uploaded them to the app and opened up one of the images. Twisting her tablet this way and that, she tried to examine the red and orange fragments from different angles, but couldn’t tell what they might once have been.

She began a fresh note for Sapphire. Online, nearly every tech blog had a post that raved about its brilliance. Many experts believed that Sapphire’s unique operating system would allow it to track black-market activity on the darknet, allowing police to pinpoint the real-world location of unscrupulous dealers in real time. That would put a lot of criminals out of business, Jazz thought, from hackers selling illegally-sourced information to collectors buying stolen art. She made a note of this in CrimeSeen as a possible motive for Sapphire’s theft.

Moving on to the Grimshaw Medusa, Jazz found source after source blaming the statue for some catastrophe or other ever since it was unearthed more than two hundred years ago. None of it served to soothe the anxiety that coursed through her veins, fuelling her desire to do whatever she could to help her friend and solve the crime. But after scouring dozens of sites, the shock of the evening eventually caught up with her and she drifted into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Phoenix was also up late. He sat on his bed, face illuminated by his phone screen as he flicked through news stories about the robbery. Commentators expressing shock about Sir Robert’s injury praised the man as an innovator and game-changer, someone who could revolutionise computing and make hacking something that benefited the community.

Trawling through older posts, he found some questioning whether or not Sapphire would actually work. ‘Too much new technology’, said one, and ‘the crystal would melt’, claimed another. Several blogs linked to a rare interview with Pablo Delgado. He was notorious for being aloof and curt with the media. But in this particular interview he seemed more open than usual. He claimed to be one of the few brave enough to speak out against Sir Robert, saying he was building Sapphire for selfish reasons. He even accused Sir Robert of wanting to use Sapphire to launch cyberattacks and blackmail governments and corporations.

Phoenix didn’t believe a word of it. ‘As if,’ he muttered.

He put his phone down with a sigh and went over to his window to close the curtains. Someone in a van was parked directly opposite his house. They leaned across from the driver’s seat and seemed to look up at him—Phoenix could just make out the pale shape of a face, but no details.

Seconds later, the vehicle was pulling away from the kerb. Phoenix stared after it. Was it a coincidence that the car had driven away just as he spotted it?

Then he remembered Anika pointing out the van that had been parked outside the museum that evening. Could this be the same one?

He turned away from the window. You’re just tired, he told himself, your imagination is playing tricks on you.

34:30

First thing the next morning, Jazz and Phoenix fronted up to the police station.

Jazz was surprised to see Mr Lyons step out of the car. Although Jazz worked part-time with Phoenix’s forensic scientist mother, she’d never met his father.

Phoenix made the introductions. Mrs Mandell shook his father’s hand. ‘This isn’t much of a way to spend a weekend morning, is it?’ she asked brightly.

‘Let’s just get inside and get this over with.’ He strode off, leaving Phoenix rolling his eyes.

Inside the police station the pairs split up, Jazz and her mother going with one officer and Phoenix and his father with another.

Phoenix sat with his father in a sparsely furnished interview room. In front of him on the table was the short witness statement he’d already written while waiting for Detective Sheppard. He was aware of the police video camera set up in a corner, recording the interview. Now, he was explaining to the detective yet again what they’d seen the night before.

‘And you say you heard the crash and came running into the room after that?’

‘That’s right.’

‘But you didn’t see a vehicle?’

‘No.’

‘We’ve discovered that the external security cameras were disabled. Can you tell me anything about that?’

‘No.’ Phoenix frowned. ‘Although we noticed that the monitors weren’t working inside the security office.’

‘You had access to the security desk. You said there was no-one there immediately before the raid.’

‘That’s right,’ said Phoenix slowly, wondering where the detective was going with this. Last night she’d been cool. Now she seemed almost angry.

‘See, I’ve got a problem, Phoenix. You say neither of you were there at the time of the crash because you’d left the room. But we only have your word for that. The security cameras were switched off. You were the last person to speak with Sir Robert before a car came crashing through the glass and knocked him out. The thieves do a smash grab on the Sapphire exhibit before driving away. Yet you say you didn’t see anything?’

‘That’s right!’ he said again, more forcefully this time.

‘Are you sure you’re telling us everything?’

Phoenix felt a pang of guilt at not mentioning Dr Zhang and the strange phone call they’d overheard outside his office. His thoughts were interrupted by his father.

‘Really, Detective Sheppard, are you suggesting that my son had something to do with this crime? Or that he has perverted the course of justice in some way? Because if you are, I’ll certainly be talking to my lawyers.’

Phoenix wished his father would just keep out of it. ‘It’s OK, Dad. I’m telling the truth.’

‘No, it is not OK. Detective, what you’re insinuating is absurd. I’m taking my son home.’

Jan Sheppard leaned back in her chair. ‘You’re free to go, Mr Lyons. It was just a chat.’ She stood up and ushered them to the door. ‘We’ll call if we need any more from you, Phoenix.’

* * *

Outside the police station, Jazz and Phoenix huddled on the footpath to compare notes. Jazz could hear her mother trying to make small talk with Mr Lyons, who looked desperate to be anywhere else.

‘Did you get the impression the police suspected us?’ asked Jazz.

Phoenix nodded. ‘Dad almost had a coronary when he realised that’s where the interview was headed.’

Jazz flashed a smile, but concern soon returned to her face. ‘It doesn’t look good though, does it? The external cameras were switched off by someone, so there’s no footage to reveal the model or registration of the car that did the ram raid.’ She paused and lowered her voice. ‘Did you say anything about Dr Zhang in your interview?’

‘Of course not,’ retorted Phoenix. ‘Have you heard from Mack this morning?’ Jazz had sent him a text on the way to the station so he knew about Mack’s request.

Jazz gave a small shake of the head. ‘I tried calling her when I got up, but she didn’t answer. I’m worried.’ She hugged her arms across her chest. ‘What if Dr Zhang is still missing? We need to work out what we’re going to do next. On my way out I overheard the police talking about getting a warrant to search Dr Zhang’s office. We should try and get there first, just to look around.’

They were interrupted by Mr Lyons marching over. ‘Phoenix, I have better things to do with my day than stand around in front of a police station. Shall we?’

‘I can run Phoenix home if you like,’ Mrs Mandell called. ‘I’m in no hurry.’

Mr Lyons mumbled something as he climbed into the car and drove off with a curt wave.

‘Actually, Mum,’ said Jazz, ‘we might head round to Mack’s and see if we can help her with anything.’

‘Suit yourself.’

Jazz waited until her mum’s car was out of sight then pointed to a cafe across the road. ‘We can talk in there.’

Phoenix hesitated at the kerb, looking up and down the street although there were few cars moving around.

‘What is it?’

‘I hate to say this, but I’m pretty sure someone was watching my house last night.’

‘What? You saw someone on the street?’

‘Someone in a van. Like the one Anika pointed out at the museum.’

‘Coincidence?’ asked Jazz with a frown. ‘I don’t know about you but I was pretty shaken up when I got home. Maybe now it’s you who is seeing crimes everywhere. Could have just been a regular car.’

‘Maybe,’ agreed Phoenix, flicking back his fringe. ‘Come on, I need a milkshake.’

In the cafe, they had just ordered when Jazz’s phone buzzed. ‘Mack!’ she cried. ‘How are things this morning?

Mack’s voice was thin, exhaustion and anxiety evident in every word. ‘Oh, Jazz, it’s awful. The police came back again this morning. Cooper knows something’s up so he hardly slept. Neither did Mum.’

‘So your dad . . .’ Jazz wasn’t sure how to finish her question.

A great sniff came down the phone line. ‘We haven’t seen him and he’s not answering his phone. Have you found out anything yet?’

Jazz looked at Phoenix and shook her head. Their worst fears were confirmed. If Dr Zhang hadn’t even contacted his family, something was very, very wrong.

‘Not yet. But we’ll find him,’ Jazz said.

‘The police are still talking like they think he’s behind the robbery.’ Wails reached Jazz’s ears from the other end of the phone. ‘I have to go get Cooper,’ said Mack. ‘Please, Jazz, do whatever you can to find my father.’

Jazz ended the call, her mouth set in a determined line. ‘We have to work out what happened last night. Finding Dr Zhang has to be our priority, before his family is ruined.’

Phoenix nodded. ‘And let’s hope he can lead us to Sapphire, before the wrong people do a lot of damage.’

33:18

‘Where are we going to start?’ asked Phoenix. ‘No-one saw anything and all the security cameras were switched off! An unseen driver of an unseen car stole the world’s first quantum supercomputer and vanished without a trace. Where do we go from there? We’ve got nothing.’

‘You’re forgetting something,’ said Jazz. ‘Every criminal leaves a trace.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s the founding principle of forensic science,’ Jazz explained. ‘From Edmund Locard, the Sherlock Holmes of France.’

‘So what’s your point?’

‘That there must be some evidence left behind that will point to the perpetrator! Remember Anika’s kidnapping? The kidnapper didn’t even seem to exist at first, but once we did a proper investigation we found the clues that helped us solve the mystery.’

‘Sure,’ grumbled Phoenix, ‘but aren’t you forgetting one really major problem?’

‘What’s that?’

‘The crime scene! We can’t get in there. The Velocity wing will be cordoned off by police.’

‘We’ll just have to work with what we’ve got then,’ said Jazz.

‘Which is?’

‘Photos. Last night I took photos of something I saw on the floor. I’ve started a new case file in CrimeSeen and added them as evidence. Look.’

Phoenix peered at the pictures on her tablet with interest. ‘Where were these taken?’

‘Right next to Sapphire,’ said Jazz.

Phoenix pulled his laptop out of his backpack. ‘I’ve got a neat bit of software called Jigsaw that might help.’

‘Are you playing games again?’ she teased.

‘Nope, not this time.’ Phoenix sent himself the images and loaded them up in his Jigsaw app. With a selection tool, he drew around the fragments and dragged them into a processing box. Then he clicked GO. ‘Sit back and watch the magic.’

The program began to rotate each fragment. Slowly, matching sides of an object started to line up. Not all of the fragments fit together, but soon they had one completed image with a distinctive design.

‘It looks like a pitchfork in a circle,’ said Jazz, puzzled. ‘Could it be an ancient coin? Or broken pottery? Maybe other artefacts did get damaged in the ram raid.’

Phoenix emailed her the completed image and ran a search for ‘pitchfork circle’. ‘Not much there,’ he said.

‘It’s still something,’ said Jazz, saving it to CrimeSeen.

‘That’s true,’ said Phoenix. ‘OK, now let’s think about Sapphire. First, who had access to it and where were they when it was stolen? Second, who else wants it?’

Jazz crossed her arms and drummed her fingers. ‘Well, the first list is pretty short, and the second list is as long as you want. The only people with access to Sapphire last night were us, Dr Zhang, museum security and Sir Robert. And we know where they all were.’ Jazz felt Phoenix’s eyes on her. ‘What?’

‘We don’t though, do we? We don’t know where Dr Zhang was. And we still don’t.’

‘Let’s hold that thought for a moment. What about the second list, of people who had an interest in it.’

‘Big corporations, cyberterrorists, data miners, hackers, governments, you name it,’ rattled off Phoenix.

‘But how would they have known Sapphire would be there last night? Its delivery was top secret. And you don’t ram raid a building on the off-chance there’ll be something there. Whoever the thieves were, they knew.’

‘They also knew exactly where it would be displayed in the Velocity wing. Otherwise they might have driven straight in, destroying Sapphire in the process,’ Phoenix said, remembering how the tyre tracks had curved in an arc in front of the supercomputer.

‘True. They must have seen the display plan. Only someone close to the museum would have had access to that.’

‘What’s also puzzling is that they didn’t take Sir Robert. Without him the machine is useless, so although they knew something, they didn’t know enough.’ He finished his milkshake. ‘I wonder if Dr Zhang knew about FTTS?’

‘Phoenix, stop it! There is no way this robbery is Dr Zhang’s doing.’

‘I’m not saying it is. But he was acting strangely beforehand and no-one has seen him since.’

‘What about Sir Robert?’ Jazz asked. ‘Was he deliberately attacked?’

‘Or just in the wrong place at the wrong time?’

‘Maybe he recognised the ram-raiders. If he could identify them—’

‘It’s a good thought, but I doubt it,’ said Phoenix. He pointed to a breaking news alert on his phone.

BILLIONAIRE STILL UNCONSCIOUS FOLLOWING THEFT

‘He’s not going to be talking to anyone yet.’

They sat quietly for a few moments, thinking through what they knew.

‘We have to find Dr Zhang,’ Jazz declared, just as Phoenix said, ‘We have to find Sapphire.’

Jazz sighed. ‘OK, our motives and suspicions might be slightly different, but our aim is the same. We find Dr Zhang, we find Sapphire and we get this exhibition back on.’ She checked her watch: 10.16 am. The first 48 HOURS were ticking away. ‘We’ll need to speak to people at the museum, see if anyone saw Dr Zhang leave. The first 48 HOURS is still fresh—we have to get back to the Point Last Seen.’

‘It’s cordoned off, remember?’

‘Can you stop thinking about the supercomputer for a second? What about the point where Dr Zhang was last seen? We have to search his office before the police get their warrant.’

‘How do you plan on getting in?’

Jazz fished her pass out of her bag. ‘Staff access, remember?’

32:02

They got off the tram at the stop nearest the museum and walked up the footpath towards the building. Now it was light, they could see the grass slope leading from the road up to the Velocity wing was a mess of muddy tyre marks. The smashed glass wall had been covered with thick plastic sheeting and the whole area was sealed off with crisscrossed yellow and black police tape. A couple of officers were stationed there, talking with Sammy and Gustav.

The rest of the museum seemed to be open for business, so Jazz and Phoenix walked around to the main entrance. They hovered outside for a few moments, unsure of how to proceed.

‘If everything that happened last night hadn’t happened,’ said Jazz, ‘we’d be able to walk straight past the front desk into the admin wing without even thinking about it.’

‘Let’s do that then,’ replied Phoenix. ‘Now, while Sammy and Gustav are out of the way. Acting normally will draw the least attention.’

They entered the lobby and strode confidently through the heavy double doors of the security office. The monitors were on this time, but the office was empty. They went up to the locked entrance to the staff-only corridor and swiped their key passes. The door slid open.

‘It’s this bit I’m worried about,’ whispered Phoenix as they entered.

‘The coast looks clear,’ said Jazz.

They looked each way as if they were crossing a busy road. Seeing that nobody was watching them, they walked straight into Dr Zhang’s office. Jazz locked the door behind them, using a napkin she’d taken from the cafe to cover her hand and avoid leaving prints.

‘So far so good,’ said Phoenix.

They looked around. The office was a medium-sized room with a large sliding glass door that opened onto a small courtyard. To the right of the courtyard door stood Dr Zhang’s large desk and chair.

‘We should be fine as long as nobody wants to come in here,’ said Jazz. ‘Let’s be quick, though; I don’t know how long it will take for the police to get that warrant. They could be on their way here now.’

It was clear that Dr Zhang was running out of room because several stacks of books towered precariously in front of the bookshelves that lined the walls. The desk itself was piled high with papers and, in the corner behind his leather chair, more papers were stacked on top of a filing cabinet.

On a shelf near the doorway stood several ancient figurines with handwritten labels: the marble head of a Roman matron with a chipped nose, a Chinese horse from the Tang Dynasty and a figurine of the Greek god Pan. He had goat’s hindquarters and was holding a pipe.

‘There’s that Pan statue again. He must have been popular,’ said Jazz. ‘It’s just like the one I almost knocked over last night.’ She turned her attention to the books and papers on the desk. ‘OK, where do we start?’

‘I’ll take the shelves and the piles of books on the floor.’ Phoenix opened his bag and drew out some disposable gloves. He tossed a pair to Jazz and put some on himself.

‘Thanks,’ said Jazz. ‘I’ll do the desk and the filing cabinet. Remember, we’re looking for anything unusual. Anything that hints at where Dr Zhang might be . . .’

* * *

Despite being on edge, they settled into a routine. While Phoenix checked the books, flipping through each volume in case something was hidden inside, Jazz methodically went through each drawer in the filing cabinet before moving to the paper stacks. The minutes ticked by as they searched and Jazz listened anxiously near the door whenever footsteps passed in the corridor. Soon Phoenix was on the last level of the bookcase. Jazz had moved onto the desk and was now opening the drawers on either side.

‘Phoenix,’ she said, ‘I can’t open this bottom drawer. It’s locked.’

The sound of voices outside the door made them freeze—a conversation in low tones, not quite loud enough for every word to be heard clearly.

‘Quick, hide!’ Jazz scrambled under the wide desk and Phoenix flattened himself against the wall beside the door, thinking that as soon as it opened, he’d bolt out.

Under the desk, it was uncomfortably squashy. Jazz heard the voices start to move away. Whoever it was had just been walking past.

‘I think its alright,’ said Phoenix. ‘But that was close. We need an escape plan. If we hear someone coming in, go out into the courtyard, OK?’

‘OK,’ Jazz said. She started to wriggle and crawl out of her hiding place. As she did so, some strands of her hair caught on something and pulled painfully. Awkwardly, she turned her head to see a key taped on the underside of the desk. ‘Hey! There’s a key stuck here!’

She crawled out and then felt around with her hand under the desk until she found the adhesive tape that was holding the key in place. After making sure none of her hair was stuck to the tape, she removed the key and applied it to the locked bottom drawer. ‘Now, let’s see what’s hidden inside!’

As Jazz opened the drawer, Phoenix peered over her shoulder. ‘It looks like an accounts book,’ he said. ‘Maybe that’s why it was locked away?’

‘I was hoping for something more exciting,’ said Jazz.

She straightened up and put the book on the desk, opening it. The page in front of them was divided into columns. ‘It’s a list of artefacts,’ said Jazz. She read out some of entries.

Phoenix examined the dates. ‘Maybe it’s a record of when the different pieces were bought?’

Jazz shook her head. ‘That doesn’t make sense. These are all recent dates; even I know those pieces have been here for years.’

Phoenix frowned. ‘This can’t be the formal list of everything in the museum. It’s not long enough, and Dr Zhang wouldn’t write it all out by hand. There’d be a computer catalogue for sure.’

Jazz looked more closely at the page. ‘You know what this reminds me of? When I was in primary school I used to be in charge of the classroom library and I had a list like this. When a book went out of the classroom library I’d record the “borrow” date. Then when the book came back, I’d write down the “return” date.’

‘You’re right. Two sets of dates next to each piece. And they’re all about the same amount of time, with about three weeks between them.’ Phoenix flicked through some more pages then let out a low whistle. ‘This is interesting,’ he said, stopping on a page covered in calculations. ‘A set of financial figures. “Expected return over one year: one hundred and twenty thousand.”,’ he read out.

‘What could that mean? It’s a huge amount of money. Expected return on what?’ Jazz asked.

‘And all locked away in the bottom drawer, as if it were hidden,’ said Phoenix.

‘Could it be some kind of top-secret project?’

‘Yeah, maybe,’ Phoenix said. ‘Or something he’s ashamed of? Something that shouldn’t be there? Something illegal?’

‘What are you saying?’ asked Jazz.

‘My feeling is that this page is very important.’

‘You think Dr Zhang is mixed up in something he shouldn’t be?’

‘Think about what you said before, that this looks like a library borrowing record. But for artworks.’ Phoenix looked hard at Jazz, waiting for her to make the same connections he had.

‘You think Dr Zhang was running some kind of lending library . . . except instead of books, he was lending out antiquities?’

‘Yep,’ he said, pointing at the page of figures. ‘It’s a money-maker,’ he said. ‘There are people who would pay for this kind of loan. Rich people.’

‘They’d love it,’ said Jazz slowly. ‘Showing off 3000-year-old sculptures to their friends at dinner parties to prove how cultured and wealthy they are.’

‘If it were me, I’d just get a nice shiny new one.’

Jazz rolled her eyes. ‘To prove how uncultured you are? They’re antiquities! That’s the point!’

Phoenix grinned. He turned the pages back to the list of artefacts and his expression became thoughtful. ‘The library idea makes sense of that phone call we overheard too. It sounded like Dr Zhang wanted to stop whatever he’d been doing. Maybe he wanted to stop lending stuff.’

‘I don’t know, Phoenix,’ said Jazz warily. ‘Dr Zhang might have been lending out antiquities, but that’s not illegal, is it?’

Phoenix paused, choosing his next words carefully. ‘No, not technically. But why hide the ledger? The fact is, your friend’s dad needs money: for the cash-strapped museum and his wife’s illness. He’s got secrets. There must be something going on.’

‘It’s possible,’ Jazz considered, thinking back to what she’d heard Dr Zhang saying the night before. ‘Whatever was going on, someone he was working with wanted more from him, some extra “bending of the rules” that he wasn’t willing to do.’

Phoenix was still looking through the ledger. ‘There’s more written here but I can’t make it out.’

‘Show me,’ said Jazz. ‘You’re right, it’s an impression from something that must have been written on another piece of paper on top.’

She watched as Phoenix put the ledger on the desk and took a photo of it with his phone.

‘You’re taking a picture of it?’ asked Jazz.

‘Once we’re out of here, I’ll digitally enhance the image and use a backlight to see what it says.

Jazz laughed. ‘You’re tech obsessed! Move over. I’ll do this my way.’ She took a pencil and a blank piece of paper from her bag. She placed the paper on top of the ledger page. Rubbing her pencil lightly over the area of the impression, she gave a triumphant cry as an address and phone number began to appear. ‘Yes! Look here, you can clearly see some writing.’

‘Nice one,’ said Phoenix.

Jazz opened up CrimeSeen and added the information.

‘We might need to check that place out.’

‘OK. Can we go now?’ asked Phoenix. ‘That detective already thought I was shady. If she finds us here . . .’

‘Yep, just give me a sec.’ Jazz carefully put the paper back in her bag. Then she flicked over to CrimeSeen’s CAMERA tab and took some pictures.

She then switched to video and slowly panned around the room, recording each angle of the office. As she did so, she noticed something odd. The rug on the floor was slightly raised in one section. ‘Look at that!’

She walked over to the rug and flipped back a corner to see what was underneath. It was a flat brass handle, set into the floor that would normally be hidden under Dr Zhang’s large desk chair. It was a trapdoor. Jazz grasped the handle and lifted it. A dark space was revealed beneath the floorboards of Dr Zhang’s study. ‘A secret cellar?’

‘Let’s check it out!’ Phoenix said.

‘Are you sure? The last time we went down into a cellar we were trapped . . .’

‘That was different. Jump!’ Phoenix urged.

Jazz jumped down and Phoenix followed.

Phoenix shone his mobile phone light around a small room cut out of the sandstone underneath the Knowledge Institute. A wide tunnel led off it into darkness. ‘What is this place?’ he muttered.

‘I remember Mack telling me a rumour ages ago about tunnels—’ She was cut off by a sound above.

Someone was rattling the locked door to Dr Zhang’s office, trying to get inside.

Jazz’s heart beat faster. ‘What if they have a key?’

‘They won’t. The office isn’t usually locked,’ Phoenix replied. But he didn’t sound confident. Nervously, he reached up and pulled the trapdoor closed, plunging them into darkness.

‘They’ll see that we’ve moved the rug,’ Jazz whispered, heart pounding, as they listened intently to the sounds above. It was harder to hear with the trapdoor closed, but eventually they heard footsteps retreating.

‘It’s quiet upstairs now,’ Phoenix said. ‘Let’s go.’

‘OK, I hope that door opens this time!’

Phoenix pushed, but nothing happened.

‘Not again!’ Jazz exclaimed. She heard Phoenix trying not to laugh. ‘What?’

‘This,’ he said, as he pushed on the door and light streamed down. ‘Got you!’

‘Seriously?!’ Jazz cried with annoyance and relief.

They climbed out of the storage area and back up into the office, closing the trapdoor with a click.

Phoenix was moving the rug and chair back into place when they were startled by the sudden shrill sound of a song chorus. Jazz recognised the tune of Shake it Off.

‘Put your phone on silent!’ she hissed.

‘That’s not my phone,’ complained Phoenix. ‘Do you think I’d have that ringtone?’

Jazz moved a stack of papers on the desk. Underneath lay Dr Zhang’s mobile phone, now silent except for a message beep alerting a missed call.

The two stared at it.

‘He must have left it here last night.’

‘Why hasn’t he come back to get it?’ Phoenix reached out a hand towards the phone, but Jazz slapped it away.

‘Phoenix, it’s evidence!’

‘But don’t you want to—’ He stopped at the sound of approaching footsteps.

‘They’re coming back with the key,’ said Phoenix. ‘We gotta leave!’

They hurried into the small courtyard, closing the sliding door to Dr Zhang’s office behind them.

Looking for a safe way out, Jazz saw that opposite them was the partially open window of an empty meeting room. Fully open, it would be large enough to climb through. To their right was a closed door with ‘Service Entry’ painted in red. The courtyard was deserted except for a black cat sleeping in the sun.

‘Is that the same cat as before?’ wondered Jazz.

Phoenix didn’t reply. He had hurried across to the large window and was trying to pull it open. The window was stuck tight. Phoenix swore under his breath.

They went over to the service door.

‘Hey, where did that cat go?’ asked Jazz. There was no sign of the feline anywhere.

‘I didn’t see it,’ said Phoenix. He sighed with relief as the service door opened easily. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

30:27

They made their way past various power switches and dials for the different sections of the museum. The service area opened into the Antiquities wing where visitors milled around the displays. They took no notice of Jazz and Phoenix as they exited the service door on their way back to the lobby.

‘What next?’

‘We’re now—’ Jazz checked her watch ‘—seventeen hours into the first 48 HOURS. We need to gather more clues as to where Dr Zhang might be. That means asking questions of museum staff, seeing if anyone heard or saw anything yesterday or last night, or this morning.’

‘What’s our cover?’

Jazz thought for a moment. ‘We know he’s missing, but that doesn’t mean everyone else does. We just ask if anyone has seen Dr Zhang, and when they say no, ask when they last saw him.’

‘Let’s start with the security guards, one of them should be back in the office by now,’ said Phoenix.

The arrived at the security desk to find Gustav doing some paperwork. Jazz was relieved that it wasn’t Sammy, the officer who’d challenged them the night before, but she still wasn’t sure how Gustav would react to seeing them so soon after the raid.

‘Hi,’ she said confidently. ‘Is Dr Zhang around?’

‘I’m afraid he’s not available at the moment,’ Gustav replied. Then, recognising them, he became suspicious. ‘Hang on, you two were here last night. What have you come back for? The police aren’t letting anyone into the Velocity wing.’

‘Dr Zhang had asked us to help out again today,’ Phoenix explained. ‘We figured he’d need us now more than ever.’

‘Well, he doesn’t. He’s not here.’

‘I see,’ Jazz said pleasantly. ‘When will he be back?’

Gustav sighed. ‘I’m not sure. But if Dr Zhang does end up coming in later, he’s going to be extremely busy. There’s nothing you two can do to help today.’

‘I left a message on Dr Zhang’s desk before the break-in last night,’ Phoenix said. ‘Maybe he had a chance to read it. Has he been here this morning?’

‘I seriously doubt it. Sorry, but I’m very busy. You’ll need to find something else to do today.’

Jazz and Phoenix turned away, disappointed, and went back into the lobby. There, Jazz spotted another staff member they knew. ‘That’s Maureen, one of the conservators. She repairs and restores artefacts in the permanent collection. I know she was here yesterday.’

She waved and called out. ‘Maureen, hi!’

The woman came over to them. ‘Jazz, and Phoenix isn’t it? Did you hear the big news? About the break-in?’

Jazz nodded. ‘We did, it’s such a shame. We actually wanted to talk to Dr Zhang about what will happen next. Do you know where he is?’

‘No,’ Maureen replied, looking troubled. ‘The police are looking for him too. He’s been so stressed lately. I haven’t seen him since late yesterday evening.’

‘Really?’ said Jazz. ‘After the robbery?’

Maureen shook her head. ‘No. A few minutes before the crash I walked out the front door and saw Dr Zhang going down to the car park to meet someone.’

‘Were they in a blue van by any chance?’

Maureen shook her head again. ‘Something far flashier. A red sports car.’

Jazz’s relief turned to puzzlement. She hadn’t noticed a ‘flashy’ car in the visitor car park last night.

Maureen continued, echoing Jazz’s thoughts. ‘It did seem a bit odd. But it probably belonged to one of the exhibition sponsors.’

‘Did you notice anything else unusual?’

‘Now that you mention it, Dr Zhang did seem to stumble when he got into the car. It was dark, though. I thought he must have tripped.’ Suddenly she looked anxious. ‘Oh dear, do you think he might have been attacked? Pulled into the car by force?’

‘We don’t know,’ replied Phoenix. ‘But it’s possible. Nobody knows where he is. Not even his family.’

Maureen’s face had gone white. ‘I’m such a fool . . . I should have remembered this earlier. Look, I have to go. I need to speak with the police. You two stay safe!’

Jazz and Phoenix made their way to a small grassy area just outside the museum. Jazz opened up CrimeSeen. ‘Now we have a new Point Last Seen,’ she said, making notes on what Maureen had told them.

‘What if that car was the one used in the ram raid? I wish we’d had more time in the Velocity wing before the security guards and police got there,’ Phoenix said. ‘I would have collected mud from the tyre tracks.’

‘Then you would have deliberately interfered with the crime scene. I’ve just finished a book about crime scene protection and we came close enough to interfering last night as it was, walking around like we did.’ Jazz’s avid reading of true crime books and forensic studies sometimes got on Phoenix’s nerves.

‘Under the circumstances, I think it would have been justified,’ he argued.

‘It was bad enough that you fell over and landed right in the . . .’ Jazz stopped, staring at Phoenix excitedly.

‘Footprints!’ they said together.

‘We have a soil sample,’ hooted Phoenix triumphantly. ‘There’ll be dirt traces on my jeans. Let’s head back to my place and take a closer look.’

* * *

Jazz and Phoenix jumped on a bus. It stopped just outside Phoenix’s house. As they got off and prepared to cross the road, Jazz noticed a blue van. She looked closer and did a horrified double take.

‘Phoenix! Do you see what I see?’

Immediately, Phoenix swung round to take a look. The van was empty, but attached above the driver’s door was a tiny camera. It swivelled to follow them as they crossed the road.

‘I wasn’t imagining things!’ he hissed. ‘That car was here last night, too. I reckon it’s the same car Anika saw.’

They suddenly heard running footsteps. A man wearing mirrored sunglasses and a cap set low over his face shoved past them, knocking Phoenix into the gutter. ‘Keep outta the way,’ the man said roughly.

Then, almost before they had time to register what had happened, the man jumped in the car, revved the engine and drove right at them.

‘Move!’ cried Jazz, grabbing Phoenix by the arm to yank him out of the gutter and onto the footpath.

At the last moment, the van did a U-turn, altering its course to stay on the road. Finally it drove off.

Jazz and Phoenix stood on the footpath, shaken.

‘Did you get the rego?’ asked Phoenix.

‘P something, maybe an R,’ said Jazz. ‘It was too quick. What was all that about?’

Phoenix frowned. ‘It was a warning.’

29:40

‘That was creepy,’ Jazz said, as they hurried inside. ‘The van must be connected to the robbery. I wonder who the driver was.’

‘Someone we don’t want to meet again,’ Phoenix said.

‘Whoever they are, they know who we are and where you live. I don’t like that.’ Jazz shivered.

‘They’re just trying to scare us off.’

‘I am scared,’ Jazz admitted, ‘but I’m not scared off.’

Phoenix disappeared upstairs to grab his jeans.

Dr Lyons came in, bag over her shoulder, and greeted Jazz warmly. The scientist worked from home in the fully-equipped forensic lab attached to their house. She employed Jazz and Phoenix as assistants there a couple of days a week. ‘How did everything go at the police station?’ she asked, concern on her face.

‘It was fine,’ replied Phoenix as he returned. ‘Are you heading out? I—we—need to use the lab for a while to run a soil profile.’

‘A soil profile?’ Mrs Lyons looked surprised. ‘Look, honey, I’m happy for you to be using the lab, both of you, but you need to know your limits. That’s specialised work, not my area of expertise.’

‘That’s OK. I just need to do some preliminary work.’

‘Phoenix, I wish you would bring this tenacity to your schoolwork.’ She sighed and then continued, ‘OK. Kit up properly, please. You know the protocols. You too, Jazz.’

‘Of course, Dr Lyons.’

* * *

They heard her car leaving as they entered the clean room, next to the accredited laboratory.

‘OK,’ Phoenix said. ‘You heard Mum. We need to kit up so we don’t contaminate anything.’ He passed Jazz some white overalls and a box of gloves. They both got ready.

Inside the lab, Phoenix placed a sheet of white paper on the wide workbench near the sink, switching on a large, powerful light that hung above it. The hum of the air pressure regulator was a soft background noise in the otherwise silent room.

With gloved hands, and using the plastic bag itself as a kind of isolation chamber, Phoenix carefully scraped the smeared dirt off his jeans onto the piece of white paper. Jazz watched the small pile of dust and soil spread across the surface. Phoenix swung a high magnification glass over the benchtop and started teasing out some of the debris. It was slow, painstaking work.

‘Phoenix,’ said Jazz.

‘Mmm?’ he replied, concentrating hard on the tweezers and soil.

‘I have to ask,’ Jazz hesitated for a moment. ‘You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?’

After moving a few more fragments of soil, Phoenix finally swung around and looked at her. ‘Meaning?’

‘It’s just that the clock is ticking.’ She gestured at the clock on the wall: 1.49 pm.

Phoenix sighed.

‘We could be checking out that address we got from Dr Zhang’s ledger,’ Jazz continued. ‘Maybe there’s evidence there, something that’s easier to analyse?’

Phoenix put down the tweezers. ‘Jazz, chill. We’ll be able to tell a lot from this soil sample just from looking closely at it. I’ll only take another minute or two. It could give us information about where the sample came from and help us narrow down locations for more investigating.’ He picked up the tweezers and turned back to the magnifying glass.

Jazz continued to hover over his shoulder, trying to get a better look at what Phoenix was examining.

‘Here,’ he said, after several more minutes had passed. ‘Take a look at this.’ He got up from the stool and Jazz sat in his place. Phoenix pointed out two piles of dirt where he had separated out like-particles. One pile was made up of minute, light-coloured grains, while the second had larger, green pieces. Comparing them to the original scrapings from Phoenix’s jeans, which had looked like a pile of dirt, Jazz could see that his slow work had yielded some results.

‘At best guess, this pile on the left is sand,’ she said, peering closely. ‘The pile on the right, though, it’s . . .’ She hesitated a moment, wondering if her guess made sense. ‘I was expecting to see leaves, dirt, that kind of thing, but this pile looks . . .’

‘Artificial?’ finished Phoenix. ‘I agree. At first I thought it was grass, but the pieces are too uniform. Let’s take a closer look.’

He plugged the magnification glass into a nearby monitor and brought up the image of the fibres on a split screen.

‘Could it be carpet?’ asked Jazz. ‘That would make sense, the tyres ripped up that green rug under Sapphire, so it might have been mixed up in the mud as well.’

‘Maybe,’ said Phoenix. Plugging his laptop into another port, he uploaded one of the shots that Jazz had taken of the coloured objects beneath Sapphire’s shattered case. ‘These pics are high-res, yeah?’

‘Of course!’ said Jazz. ‘I picked that phone because it’s got the best camera.’

Phoenix zoomed in on a piece of the rug visible in Jazz’s photo, and then zoomed some more, each time tweaking the settings to keep the image as distinct as possible. Eventually he pulled back, allowing both of them to examine the two images side by side.

‘I’d say we’re looking at two different set of fibres, wouldn’t you?’ asked Phoenix.

‘Definitely. The fibres in the sample are kind of clipped looking and green in colour.’ She shifted her gaze to the second image. ‘The rug in the Velocity room is also green . . . but the rug’s fibres are a lot finer and a lighter colour.’

‘So the fibres have probably been tracked in from somewhere else, on the thieves shoes or on the ram raid car’s tyres. Either the thief or the car has been some place where these fibres were on the ground.’

‘That leaves way too many possibilities. What can we do to narrow it down?’

‘We can try to identify the samples,’ replied Phoenix.

‘Which bit of equipment do we use for that?’ asked Jazz. She was surprised to see Phoenix head to the lab’s reference library.

‘You heard what Mum said; it’s not her area of expertise. Best we can do is look through her reference books and find similar images.’

‘Are you serious?’ cried Jazz.

‘What?’ retorted Phoenix. ‘You’re the one who’s always quoting books back at me. I thought this would be your style of investigating.’

‘Do I need to keep reminding you we’re rapidly counting down the first 48 HOURS?’ demanded Jazz. ‘We don’t have time to leaf through page after page comparing microscopic images.’ She shook her head. ‘I should have known this would happen. Why don’t you try admitting sometimes that you don’t know everything?’

Phoenix frowned. He looked ready to argue the point further when suddenly his face cleared and he laughed. ‘You know what? You’re right! I may not know about soil samples, but I do know someone who does.’ He reached for his phone.

‘Who are you calling?’

‘Mike.’

‘Belinski? From our science class?’

‘The very same. He lives round the corner.’

‘And he knows about soil samples?’

‘Yep, his grandparents have a farm outside the city. His final project last year was on soil sampling. It was so good that the head teacher wants to accelerate him through senior bio. Also . . .’ Phoenix flicked back his fringe and gave a disarming grin, ‘. . . he likes you. If you ask him for a favour, he’ll do it for sure.’

He handed Jazz the phone as it began to ring. Shocked, she was about hang up when Mike answered.

‘Phoenix?’ he said.

‘Um, no, it’s Jazz. From science class.’ She felt a bit stupid.

‘Jazz? Hi! Why are you calling me on Phoenix’s phone?’ Suddenly his tone turned wary. ‘I hope this isn’t some kind of dare . . .’

‘What? No. We, um, we’re working on an . . . extracurricular project together. Phoenix said you knew a lot about analysing soil samples.’ She glanced at Phoenix who had a smug look on his face as he eavesdropped on the conversation. Annoyed, she grabbed some sterile tubes from a drawer and shoved them into his hands, pointing to the soil on the table. Still grinning with the same smug expression, he began to bag up the samples.

Jazz switched her attention back to her phone. ‘Mike, you still there? Sorry. Look, we need a favour. Could you analyse some samples for us?’

‘Sure, I can do that! Want to meet up before class on Monday? You could give them to me then,’ he said, a little more enthusiastically than Jazz had expected.

‘Actually,’ Jazz said, embarrassed, ‘we kind of need your help today. Have you got time?’

‘What, to come to your place?’ Mike asked, sounding keen.

‘No, um, we’ll drop the samples round to you this afternoon. Can we meet tomorrow morning after you’ve looked at them?’

‘Sounds great!’

‘OK, see you then.’ She hung up.

Meanwhile, Phoenix had placed samples of the soil into different tubes and was now labelling them. On the first he wrote:

‘Right, I’ll run these over to Mike’s. Want to come with me? He’ll be disappointed if you don’t,’ Phoenix teased.

Jazz checked her watch. ‘Let him be disappointed. We’ve only got just over twenty-four hours left to find Dr Zhang, get Sapphire back and solve this case. I’ll clean up in here and call Mack to see if she’s heard anything while I wait for you.’

28:21

When Phoenix got back, Jazz was in the living room, checking the news on her phone.

‘Find anything?’ he asked from the kitchen, grabbing some soft drinks from the fridge. He sat down on the couch next to Jazz and put a can in front of her, taking a swig from his own.

‘Thanks,’ she replied. ‘I tried calling Mack, but the police were back at her place so she couldn’t talk. She texted me a link though. Take a look.’

She handed him her phone. It showed an article on the state police news site about a burnt-out stolen car that had been found in an abandoned lot. They were asking anyone with information to come forward.

Phoenix was confused. ‘Creepy. But what’s it got to do with Zhang?’

‘It doesn’t say on the site, but Mack’s text said Detective Sheppard thinks it could be the car that rammed the museum,’ she explained. ‘Also, I did a map search and the suburb where the car was found is just near Balfour Park.’

‘The suburb from the address on the ledger rubbing?’

‘That’s right. Think we should check it out? We’d need a lift there though.’

‘Yeah . . . maybe we could go and see Simon at the gym. He finishes work soon. He’d probably drive us,’ Phoenix said, checking the news feed on his phone. He selected a clip of a current affairs report about the museum raid. ‘This is interesting,’ he said, showing Jazz.

The host was in the studio, interviewing guests via video link. ‘We’re joined now by Toby Grimshaw, whose father Sir Robert Grimshaw was gravely injured in a daring robbery last night,’ he said, turning to face a TV monitor. On screen was the face of Toby Grimshaw. Jazz recognised him from a celebrity blog that Anika followed. He had dark blotches under his eyes but the rest of his look matched the millionaire image—his hair was immaculately cut and styled. He wore a business shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, and a tattoo crept up his neck towards a fat diamond stud.

‘So that’s the guy who was meant to help us set up the exhibition,’ said Phoenix. ‘He looks like he hasn’t slept all night.’

‘That’s not surprising, after what happened to his father,’ said Jazz.

‘. . . a most dreadful accident,’ Toby Grimshaw was saying. ‘And to happen just moments after he called me last night, sounding like his usual, jolly self . . . it’s unbelievable.’

‘What? His “usual jolly self”? That’s a total lie!’ cried Jazz, eyes wide.

‘We heard that call!’ said Phoenix. ‘Sir Robert was furious. I wish I could remember what he said.’

Jazz closed her eyes. A criminal investigation podcast she listened to had recently run a program on a technique for recalling audio memories. She’d been practising with Mack who thought it would be good for exams. Now Jazz tried on her own. First, she visualised the way Sir Robert had looked when he talked about his son. Then she relaxed and let the events fast-forward in order from there, as if in a movie. When she got to the part where Sir Robert had stared at the Medusa and ordered her and Phoenix to find Dr Zhang, she imagined herself standing next to him as he spoke on the phone rather than walking out to the lobby. Soon the conversation came back to her quite clearly.

‘He said, “I don’t care what you’re doing! Explain yourself immediately or you won’t get another cent out of me!”’ she recited.

‘Impressive,’ nodded Phoenix.

‘Toby Grimshaw is lying,’ Jazz said. ‘And I really want to know why.’

27:59

‘First,’ said Phoenix, ‘let’s find out where Toby Grimshaw lives.’

‘How do you plan on doing that?’

‘He’s all over social media, and look, most of his posts are geotagged as Harbourside. That narrows it down.’ Phoenix scrolled through Toby’s Instagram posts. ‘Bingo,’ he said triumphantly, holding up his phone.

It was an image of Toby standing in front of a slick high-rise building with the caption ‘Brand-new home sweet home! The penthouse is mine!!’

‘Look familiar?’ Phoenix asked.

‘Sure does,’ said Jazz, recognising it as a glamorous waterfront address.

Seeing more evidence of Grimshaw’s lavish lifestyle on his Facebook page, Jazz mused, ‘There’s no sign here that he does anything other than spend money. How did he get the money to live at Harbourside?’

Phoenix shrugged. ‘Toby Grimshaw has a very rich father who gives him money to live off.’

‘And he’s pretending that he’s close to his very rich father.’

‘Could he have some kind of grudge against his dad?’

Jazz considered. ‘Maybe . . . but what does he stand to gain by stealing Sapphire? If anything, that’s going to hurt his father. And if Sir Robert’s the one bankrolling this lifestyle, I don’t see how that will help.’

‘There’s a bus that goes from here to Harbourside. Let’s go. We can do more research on the way.’

* * *

‘I reckon there’s plenty of stuff on Toby Grimshaw to dig up,’ commented Phoenix once they were settled on the bus. ‘He’s a bit too well known round town. Runs around with glamorous celebrities. You know, the classic spoiled rich kid who never grew up? Look at his Wikipedia entry. He’s started all these businesses that never seem to do any good. And you saw his photos—looks like he spends a lot of time at the casino.’

‘Does he win?’

‘I doubt it. But his penthouse apartment is practically next door. And apparently he spent tens of thousands of dollars redesigning his rooftop garden with rare trees and expensive water features.’

Jazz whistled as she looked through some of his older Instagram posts. ‘He sure likes his travel,’ she commented. ‘Look at all the shots of him living it up in the south of France.’

‘Is that his girlfriend?’ asked Phoenix, pointing to a woman with a dark bob and square-cut fringe. ‘She’s in lots of his photos.’

‘I’ve only noticed her in the French ones,’ replied Jazz.

A tag identified her as Camille Wolf-Ferrari. Jazz clicked through to her bio but found only the barest information.

‘Looks like she’s a bit more into online privacy than our buddy Toby,’ Phoenix commented.

They jumped off the bus. It was a fine sunny day and seagulls hovered overhead on outspread wings, diving and squabbling over scattered chips. Waves slapped softly against the piers.

At the eastern end of the boardwalk, expensive town houses and apartment blocks rose, gleaming against the blue sky. Nearby was the casino Neptune’s Chest, a tall building at the top of an imposing set of stairs. It dominated the landscape, red and gold neon shooting stars in an arch over the entrance fell into a huge neon treasure chest overflowing with coloured lights. Next to it, more imposing apartment blocks had been built behind well-kept lawns, and a line of palm trees rustled gently in the sea breeze.

Jazz stared up at the tall apartment building just past the row of palms. Right at the top she could see more trees waving in the wind, part of a rooftop garden. ‘That must be Toby Grimshaw’s penthouse right at the top.’

Jazz and Phoenix walked up to the grand marble pillars of the entrance, noticing the security doorbells on a panel to the right of the doorway. Beneath the panel, the building’s name was picked out in gold letters: Harbour Vista.

‘I guess this is Toby’s,’ said Phoenix, pointing to a button labelled PENTHOUSE. ‘What are we going to say when he answers?’

Jazz fished in her pocket and pulled out the business card Sir Robert had given her. ‘It’s probably easiest to just say that we met Sir Robert yesterday and wanted to ask how he was.’ She pressed the button. ‘Besides, it’s true.’

They waited, but it was clear that no-one was home or, if they were, they weren’t going to answer. Together, they walked around looking for a back entrance. But on the side of the building an elaborate wrought-iron security gate ensured that nobody could get through.

‘Now what?’ asked Jazz.

A screech of braking tyres filled their ears, overtaken briefly by the sound of hip-hop music thumping out of speakers, as a glistening red sports car slammed to a stop in front of the side gate. Its engine gave a last guttural roar before cutting out.

A door opened upwards, like a bird stretching its wing. The driver stepped out and removed his sunglasses—Toby Grimshaw!

‘Hey,’ he called, pointing to Phoenix. ‘You security?’ Phoenix looked down and realised he was wearing a T-shirt he’d bought from a music festival. It was all black with the word SECURITY printed on it.

‘Yes, sir,’ he replied.

‘Watch this baby. I’ll be back in five.’ He walked away, turning to go into the casino.

‘Sure.’ Phoenix walked over to the car, ready to admire its sleek lines and regale Jazz with a lengthy description of horse power and torque.

‘Red sports car!’ said Jazz.

‘Yes, I can see that, Jazz. Is that the extent of your luxury car knowledge?’

‘Very funny, but no. Remember what Maureen told us? This could be the car she saw Dr Zhang getting into. And look,’ she added. ‘See there?’

The corner of a shiny, brand-new laptop was just visible, sticking out from under the front passenger seat.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ asked Phoenix, with a sly smile.

‘I’m thinking he said he’d be back in five minutes,’ Jazz replied.

‘And then he headed to the casino! I reckon we’ve got at least half an hour. Here, hold this.’

Phoenix grabbed a USB out of his backpack then shoved the bag at Jazz before diving into the sportscar.

‘What are you doing?’ she hissed. ‘What if someone sees you?’

‘It’ll be fine. I’m just going to copy all his files onto here. We’ll be able to see who he’s been emailing and find out about his business dealings.’

He pulled the laptop out from its unsuccessful hiding place and stuck the USB into the slot. ‘Happily the latest version of my white-hat app is on here. So unless Toby’s system’s more secure than the one at school, the app should be able to work out his password too. Keystroke analysis.’

Jazz raised an eyebrow. ‘Explain to me again how your hacking is any different to someone like Delgado?’

‘I told you, he’s a black hat—a cracker. I’m one of the good guys, a white hat.’

‘Seems to me, you’re more of a grey hat,’ Jazz teased.

Phoenix ignored her as he activated his program. Then he raised his right fist in a triumphant gesture. ‘Ha!’ he said. ‘Guess what his password is?’

‘1234? TobyG? Winner?’ Jazz suggested.

‘Neptune! The name of the casino!’

Phoenix is way too pleased with himself, Jazz thought. She scanned the area. After a few minutes she began to worry about the time it seemed to be taking to copy the files.

Phoenix noticed Jazz frowning. ‘It won’t take too much longer,’ he reassured her.

‘When you say “too much longer” how long do you actually mean?’ asked Jazz. ‘If Toby Grimshaw comes back while you’re hacking his laptop, things could get nasty.’ Another thought occurred to her. ‘Is he going to be able to tell you’ve been on there?’

‘He’ll never know a thing.’

‘Unless he catches us . . . Ah, Phoenix, you’d better hurry up.’

‘I’m only at eight per cent.’

‘I don’t care, he’s coming back.’

‘Couple more minutes.’

‘Phoenix, I mean it. You need to get out NOW. Just grab what you’ve got and let’s go.’

‘If I pull the stick out now I’ll corrupt the whole thing!’

‘He’s walking over.’

‘Stall him!’

Jazz thought quickly. She grabbed her tablet and held it in front of her like a clipboard. She smiled brightly and intercepted Toby Grimshaw on the footpath.

‘Hi there, sir! Would you have a moment to talk about the environment?’ Grimshaw looked determinedly down at the ground. He obviously planned to ignore her and walk straight back to the car.

‘Our campaign has great social media exposure. Care to show your support for the cause with a few photos that I can share on our feed?’

At that, Grimshaw stopped and turned back to Jazz. ‘What campaign did you say that was?’

‘Uh, Save the Animals. We have, like, two million followers. I’d be happy to tag you and any business interests.’ When he nodded his assent, she pointed to the other side of the building, away from the sports car. ‘Maybe stand there, against the wall? The light is better.’

Jazz held up the tablet and waited as Grimshaw preened himself. She kept an eye on his sportscar in the background. Seeing Phoenix slink from the back seat and away from the car in a crouch, she quickly snapped a shot.

‘Thanks! I’ll upload that back at headquarters.’ She gave him another bright smile and started backing away. ‘Remember, Save the Animals!’ she called before turning to walk as quickly as she dared in the opposite direction.

He gave a shake of his head, then strode back to the car. Phoenix stood there waiting, nonchalantly leaning against the door.

‘Nice wheels, sir,’ he said, moving aside.

Grimshaw lowered himself into the driver’s seat then looked up at Phoenix, who still stood at the open door. ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ he asked.

‘No, sir,’ said Phoenix.

Grimshaw shrugged and pulled the door shut, almost catching Phoenix’s foot. The engine roared to life and the car screamed away, leaving Phoenix spluttering in a cloud of exhaust.

‘Tell me you got it,’ said Jazz, running back to him now Grimshaw was gone.

Phoenix turned, a grin splitting his face as he held up the USB stick. ‘Got the lot! Come on, I think we’re due for a workout!’

26:28

Schmick n Fit was run by Phoenix’s boxing coach and good mate, Simon. Simon’s blue eyes were always smiling and he was a man who didn’t feel the need to ask too many questions.

‘Phoenix!’ Simon cried, offering a high five and giving Jazz a friendly pat on the arm as the pair walked inside. ‘Good to see you, mate. I miss our daily sessions now you’re not suspended.’

‘Me too,’ said Phoenix. ‘Trust me, double chemistry doesn’t get the blood pumping the same way.’

‘So, do you two want a ring to spar in?’ Simon joked.

‘We do enough of that in the lab,’ muttered Jazz under her breath.

‘Actually, we were just in the area and needed a quiet space to do some—ah, homework in,’ Phoenix explained.

Simon raised an eyebrow. ‘Of course, where better than a noisy gym, huh?’

‘You’re just such a good motivator, Simon.’

‘Whatever, mate. The office is free.’

* * *

‘OK, let’s have a look at this laptop,’ said Phoenix once they were settled around the desk. He plugged the USB into his own computer. ‘There’s a lot of data here,’ he commented. ‘Where should we start?’

‘Look for anything to do with his dad, for starters,’ said Jazz. ‘Or the Medusa. Sir Robert went all weird and demanded to talk to Toby right after he saw the statue.’

‘Alright, I’ll use those as keywords and set up a search.’ Phoenix began to type them in. ‘I’ll also include some generic terms like “statue” and “transport”.’

‘Look for “Zhang” too,’ said Jazz.

Phoenix added in the extra word. ‘This search will take some time to complete.’

‘What do you think is going on between Dr Zhang and Toby Grimshaw?’ Jazz mused, fingers drumming on her folded arms. ‘Do you think he had anything to do with those phone calls we overheard? Maybe Toby has been more involved in the exhibition than we thought.’

‘One way to find out,’ said Phoenix, placing Dr Zhang’s mobile on the table in front of him.

‘Phoenix! Did you take that from his office?’

‘It was too good a lead to pass up.’

‘It’s interfering . . . no, worse, it’s stealing,’ said Jazz.

‘Look, you want to find your friend’s dad, right?’ argued Phoenix. ‘Only you and me know that something might be wrong—everyone else thinks he’s gone to ground because he’s a crook. This could lead us straight to him.’

Jazz breathed deeply. ‘I still don’t feel right about it.’

‘What better clue is there to finding a missing person than their phone?’ Phoenix pressed.

‘What are you planning to do?’

‘Well, first I need to figure out his passcode or lock pattern. Luckily, I have something slightly more twenty-first century than that pencil rubbing you did back in Zhang’s office.’ He pulled out his own phone and opened up an app.

‘Another one of your “white-hat” programs?’ Jazz asked, sarcastically.

‘You guessed it,’ he said. ‘This one is kind of like fingerprint dust, but it uses light instead.’ He tapped and the light on his phone shone brightly for a moment. He shone it over the screen of Zhang’s phone and tapped another button. The phone made a chk sound like it was taking a photo.

‘Now, as long as he hasn’t cleaned his screen lately, we should be able to—’ there was a chime from his phone. ‘Yes! Here we go! It’s a lock pattern.’

Jazz looked at his phone and saw the photo of Dr Zhang’s phone in Phoenix’s app. A red line in a simple zigzag pattern was superimposed over it. She watched as Phoenix switched on Zhang’s phone and traced the pattern. The phone unlocked.

‘Wow!’ Jazz said, impressed in spite of herself. ‘Remind me never to leave you alone with my phone.’

‘Let’s flick through his call history first, see what we find.’ Phoenix went to work, flicking between screens and scrolling. ‘Plenty of missed calls, not surprisingly. All the ones listed as Home or Mackenzie are pretty self-explanatory. And yep, going back to last night, there’s one from Robert Grimshaw.’

‘That’ll be straight after Sir Robert looked at the Medusa,’ commented Jazz. ‘And presumably after he’d spoken to his son.’

Phoenix flicked to a different screen and nodded. ‘Toby Grimshaw is also one of Dr Zhang’s contacts.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘There’s a lot of calls between them.’

‘That’s not too surprising. The calls were probably to talk about the exhibition,’ said Jazz, a little defensively.

Phoenix made a noncommittal noise. ‘Except that Toby’s never been seen at the museum or shown any interest in the exhibition.’

‘It would be good to know more about those two phone calls we overheard in Dr Zhang’s office,’ said Jazz.

Phoenix kept scrolling through the call history. ‘I’ll look at incoming calls just before that one from Sir Robert . . . I’d guess they’re these two here,’ Phoenix said, pointing out a sequence on screen. ‘Two calls received pretty much one after the other.’

‘It’s a landline,’ noted Jazz. ‘And just the number is listed, so they’re not from contacts in his phone.’ She eyed the phone on Simon’s desk, then looked up at Phoenix. ‘You tell me the number and I’ll dial it.’

‘What?’ he said, puzzled. Then he smiled slowly in understanding. ‘You’re going to call it.’

‘Why not?’ said Jazz, the receiver already in her hand. ‘It won’t be easily traceable from here.’ She pressed speaker and began punching in the numbers as Phoenix read them out. There was a click, then a ringing, then the call picked up. Jazz could scarcely breathe.

‘Thank you for calling Kendricks Engineering and Restoration Services. No-one is available to take your call right now, but please leave a message. BEEP.’

Jazz hung up and exhaled a long breath. ‘That was an anti-climax,’ she commented.

Phoenix was typing on his laptop. ‘Or not,’ he exclaimed. ‘Check this out—I just did a web search for that company name and look what’s come up!’ He turned the screen.

‘Balfour Park again!’ cried Jazz. ‘Kendricks Engineering is at the address in Dr Zhang’s ledger. This is a huge clue!’

‘Hmm,’ murmured Phoenix, distracted by something else on the phone.

‘What is it?’ asked Jazz.

‘This is interesting. That same number—the Kendricks Engineering one—rang again, half an hour after the call we overheard. And guess what? They left a voicemail.’

‘Phoenix, no,’ said Jazz firmly. ‘Flicking through Dr Zhang’s contacts is one thing, but accessing his messages would be tampering with evidence. We need to follow proper procedure and hand this over—to the police or his family. Let’s get out to Balfour Park before it’s too late and check out Kendricks Engineering. On the way, I’ll text Mack and ask her to call us tonight. She can decide what to do with her dad’s phone.’

Phoenix was about to reply when Jazz’s phone rang. It was Anika.

‘Have you guys found anything?’ she asked.

Jazz gave Anika a quick run-down of their progress.

‘It sounds like you have some great leads,’ Anika said encouragingly. ‘I wish I could come over and help, but I’m still not allowed out of the house in the evening.’

Seeing Phoenix at his laptop, Jazz had a sudden idea. ‘There is a way you can help, and you can do it from home. Hang on a sec. Phoenix, has that search on Toby’s files finished yet? Can you give Anika the results?’

‘It’s just about done,’ said Phoenix. ‘I’ll encrypt the files found in the search and send them to a secure cloud storage site. Tell Anika I’ll email her the login details.’

Jazz relayed the info. ‘Phoenix is giving you access to some files we took off Toby Grimshaw’s computer. Can you go through them? Anything you find that might be relevant to the case—drop it into a new folder.’

‘That was a good idea,’ said Phoenix as Jazz hung up. ‘Got any more for how we can persuade Simon to give us that lift to Balfour Park?’

‘Can’t you just ask him?’

‘Remember what happened to his ute the last time he helped us out?’ Phoenix reminded her.

Simon had helped them track down Anika, but her kidnapper had stolen his ute and smashed it into a train.

‘He got a new ute with the insurance money didn’t he?’ Jazz said thoughtfully. ‘He’ll want to show it off.’

‘It’s worth a try,’ Phoenix said.

Phoenix packed up his laptop and they went over to where Simon was showing a student how to block a punch. He looked up as they approached.

‘Uh-oh,’ Simon said. ‘Whenever I see those expressions on your faces, I sense that my life is about to get more complicated.’

‘We just need a favour,’ said Phoenix. ‘Nothing major, I promise. Your shift ends in ten minutes, doesn’t it? Got time to give us a lift out to Balfour Park on your way home? Show us your new ute?’

‘It is a sweet ride,’ replied Simon, taking the bait. ‘The torque on this is way better than my old ute . . .’

But Phoenix wasn’t listening. Jazz had drawn his attention to the TV monitors suspended from the walls. ‘Look. More about the robbery,’ she said.

The headlines on-screen confirmed that Sir Robert remained unconscious in hospital under police guard.

Simon looked from the TV to their intense gazes. ‘This lift to Balfour Park wouldn’t have anything to do with a major criminal investigation, would it?’

Jazz and Phoenix exchanged a swift guilty glance before Phoenix replied confidently, ‘No way, mate. We’re just helping out a friend.’

25:03

Balfour Park was a small industrial estate with a strip of houses and shops along the western edge. Most factories were closed for the weekend, so the whole area seemed very quiet. Kendricks Engineering and Restoration turned out to be tucked away in a dead end. Simon brought the ute to a halt outside a large hangar-like building on the corner.

‘Let’s go take a closer look,’ said Jazz, opening the passenger door and climbing out.

Phoenix followed her. ‘Simon, do you reckon you could hang around for a bit? We’re just going to have a look.’

‘My life is but to serve you, Phoenix,’ Simon said drily, switching off the engine to wait. ‘You’ll be washing the towels at the gym all next week though!’

The streetlights turned on as they approached the factory, walking carefully through the long grass past some straggly eucalypts. On the right-hand side of the building was an old narrow footpath.

‘Everything looks pretty dark. Hopefully there’s no-one around,’ said Jazz in a quiet voice. ‘Let’s try to find a window where we can see inside.’

Keeping low and trying not to make a sound, they crept down the narrow path. At the far end they noticed some windows, high up, protected with rusty wire grilles. Several small pallets were stacked against the building.

‘Hold them while I climb up,’ Phoenix whispered.

While Jazz held the pallets steady, Phoenix made his way to the top of the pile and peered through the security grille on one of the windows.

‘Can you see anything?’ Jazz asked, raising her voice just above a whisper.

Phoenix shook his head and waved at her to be patient. Holding on tightly to the top pallet with one hand, Phoenix reached up with the other and tugged at the rusty grille. It was old and loose and came away, dangling against the wall, allowing Phoenix a clearer view through the window. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and raised it as high as he could. The pallets wobbled a bit and Jazz did her best to steady them. With the phone pressed up against the window, Phoenix took a series of fast automatic photographs.

The flash lit up the dark interior like lightning and Phoenix heard surprised exclamation from inside the building. Afraid he had been seen, Phoenix jumped down to the ground. His landing was slightly off-balance and he stumbled, falling onto his side. ‘Run!’ he urged Jazz, ‘I think there’s someone inside!’

Seeing Phoenix was unhurt, Jazz sped back up the narrow footpath and along the street to where Simon waited in the ute.

On his feet again, Phoenix followed her at a run. But just as he emerged at the building’s front entrance, a vehicle, headlights off, came sweeping past. Phoenix zigzagged and ducked behind a garbage bin. Seconds later, Phoenix took off again, sprinting towards the ute. He wrenched the door open and threw himself into the cabin, almost falling on Jazz who was buckling up in the middle seat.

‘Look!’ Phoenix said, pointing. ‘The van!’

‘It’s the blue one that’s been following us!’ Jazz exclaimed.

‘Time to go, I think,’ said Simon, but Phoenix put his arm across and gripped the wheel. ‘Hold up a second,’ he commanded, and they watched as the driver’s-side door opened and a man got out. As he stepped out from the shadows into the glow of the streetlights they got a clearer look at him. He was a heavy-set man, nearly bald and with a magnificent set of eyebrows.

‘Phoenix,’ stammered Jazz, ‘that’s the security guard!’

‘Oh yeah, it’s Sammy, the jerk from the museum.’

Before they could think through the implications of this, Sammy walked around and opened the passenger door, impatiently waiting for whoever was in there to clamber out.

Jazz let out a gasp. ‘Dr Zhang!’

‘What’s he doing out here?’ Phoenix’s question hung in the air. Once the men had disappeared into the factory, Simon started the engine and gently pulled away.

An awkward silence settled on the car.

‘So,’ said Simon, with a forced brightness, ‘where am I dropping you guys, next?’

‘My place?’ Phoenix looked at Jazz.

‘Works for me,’ said Jazz. ‘I’ll send Mum a text.’

‘Sure you don’t want me to stop by a police station so you can hand over this investigation to them?’ Simon smiled at their shocked faces. ‘I’m joking. Just glad to be getting home with the ute intact for a change.’

‘Not funny, Simon,’ said Phoenix.

24:11

Once they got back to the house, Jazz and Phoenix set up at opposite sides of the kitchen table—Phoenix with his laptop, Jazz with CrimeSeen on her tablet.

Mack still hadn’t replied to the text Jazz had sent her that afternoon, so she tried calling. She left a voicemail urging Mack to call her as soon as possible. Jazz didn’t know what Dr Zhang was doing at Kendricks, but at least she would be able to tell Mack he was alive.

Meanwhile, Phoenix mulled over what they had just seen. He cleared his throat as Jazz ended the call. ‘So,’ he prompted.

‘So?’

‘So . . . we saw Dr Zhang. That’s pretty huge. But let’s go through everything we saw from start to finish and see how it fits in with what we already know.’

‘Alright,’ Jazz agreed.

Phoenix transferred the photos he’d taken on his mobile to a photo editing program on his laptop and played around with them, softening the contrast to reduce the sharp light of the flash. As he tweaked, several objects arranged on a workshop bench became clear.

‘What are those?’ Jazz asked.

Phoenix zoomed in on them. ‘They look like items from the museum’s Antiquities wing.’

‘Kendricks is a restoration place, right? Maybe the items were damaged,’ offered Jazz. ‘The conservators at the museum might have been too busy working on the exhibition to repair them in house.’

‘It’s possible,’ said Phoenix, but he didn’t sound convinced. ‘The first one looks like that statue of Pan playing the flute again. Dr Zhang had one in his office and you almost knocked one over last night. Does this mean there are three of them now?’

‘Three the same, you mean? They could just be similar. Pan was a pretty popular guy for old sculptors, as I understand it.’

‘I guess so. It’s still a bit of a coincidence that statues of him keep cropping up.’ Phoenix zoomed in on another part of the image. ‘This one has wings . . . and the third one looks like some guy on a horse.’ He continued to look at the photos, switching between one figure and the other, frowning in concentration.

‘Dr Zhang could have brought them to Kendricks before the robbery,’ Jazz said. ‘But—’

‘But that doesn’t explain why Dr Zhang was there today. He’s wanted for questioning by the police and his family think he is missing!’

‘He is missing,’ Jazz insisted. ‘We saw him, but I bet he’s not at Kendrick’s anymore and he clearly didn’t stay there last night. Something definitely isn’t right. We have to stay on the case until we know he is safe. And I have another question. What was the security guard doing there?’

‘I don’t know,’ Phoenix admitted as he flicked between the photos on his computer. ‘Could he have been helping Dr Zhang somehow?’

Jazz frowned in concentration. ‘Hmm, let’s try something.’ She went into CrimeSeen, and selected a folder. ‘I’m emailing you the photos I took in Dr Zhang’s office. One of them shows the Pan statue. Can you run some kind of image comparison?’

Phoenix opened the file she sent and selected the photo of the Pan statue. Then he took the clearest photo from the factory and loaded both images into the app he’d used when he scanned Medusa at the museum. With the images side by side, Phoenix set the program to test for similarities.

‘I’m no art critic, and with better quality images I could do a better analysis, but as far as I can tell these are the same sculpture.’

‘There’s something else familiar about them,’ said Jazz, going through the images. She came to a photo of the handwritten list of antiquities from the ledger in Dr Zhang’s bottom drawer. ‘That’s what I thought! These last three entries—their descriptions match up with the items you photographed at the factory.’ She read out: ‘Pan with flute, Artemis figure, warrior on horse . . .’

‘What do you think it means?’ Phoenix asked.

Jazz frowned. ‘Maybe this ledger has nothing to do with lending out artefacts. Maybe it’s just a record of artworks that Dr Zhang is having repaired. That would make sense with the dates.’

‘But not with the financial figures! And it doesn’t make sense that he kept it in a locked drawer.’

‘So what’s your theory?’ challenged Jazz.

‘I think there’s a pretty obvious possibility that we need to consider, especially looking at the analysis on these Pan sculptures.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘That Dr Zhang isn’t just lending out artefacts for a fee, he’s also getting them copied.’

Jazz’s stomach sank. She’d been thinking the same thing, but hadn’t wanted to say it out loud. ‘I’m sure he has legitimate reasons,’ she replied coolly.

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. ‘Like what?’

‘Say he is lending out antiquities. He probably gets copies made so a replica can be on display in the museum while they lend out the genuine one.’

‘He’s not exactly lending them out of the goodness of his heart though, is he?’ countered Phoenix. ‘He’s making serious money from it. And why get multiple copies made?’

‘Demand could be particularly high for those pieces. He might be lending out the copies at a lower rate.’

‘Maybe he’s not just lending, maybe he’s selling too—copies and originals. From the secretive way he’s been keeping the lending records, I wouldn’t be surprised.’

Jazz’s eyes widened. ‘Are you saying that he’s making forgeries to trade on the black market?’ She shook her head vehemently. ‘No, no way. That would be . . .’

‘Fraud,’ Phoenix finished for her. ‘That’s very bad. Secretly lending out antiquities might get him in trouble with the board of directors, but selling and copying could get him a jail sentence.’

‘We’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves here,’ said Jazz. ‘I just can’t see Dr Zhang as a criminal. I know he’s got all those expenses with Mrs Zhang being ill and the cost of the Velocity wing, but even so . . .’

Her voice trailed away.

‘I so don’t want it to be bad for Mack and her family,’ she said finally. ‘I can’t believe that Dr Zhang would do something like this.’

‘It’s hard to take in,’ said Phoenix. ‘I know how much this exhibition meant to him.’

‘Wait,’ said Jazz. ‘You think he had something to do with the robbery?’

‘His whereabouts at the time are unaccounted for.’

‘But you saw how upset he was by those phone calls. If he is involved, surely it’s not willingly.’

‘He looked fine when we saw him. So why hasn’t he made contact with his family?’ asked Phoenix.

‘He doesn’t have his phone!’ Jazz said.

‘Sure. Or maybe he’s hiding so he won’t get arrested.’

‘I can’t believe you’re accusing my best friend’s father like that.’

‘Jazz, cool it,’ said Phoenix. ‘I want him to be innocent just as much as you do. I want Sapphire back and I want the exhibition to go ahead. But we need to think objectively. The key to locating Dr Zhang and Sapphire is knowing how all this ties together. What’s the connection between these museum pieces and Sapphire?’

The two of them sat in silence, racking their brains for answers.

Despite her protests to the contrary, deep down Jazz knew that all their evidence pointed to Dr Zhang being involved in the robbery. But she was absolutely convinced he was in some kind of danger, too. And with half the first 48 HOURS already gone, she was worried that it would be too late to help him.

Jazz’s mobile rang. It was Mack. Jazz hesitated a moment before answering.

‘Hi, Mack.’

‘I got your message. Did you find out somthing about Dad?’ Mack asked. ‘He still hasn’t come home.’

‘Well—’ Jazz began.

‘They’re talking about him on the news. Everyone thinks he’s guilty. But aside from showing us that horrible burnt-out car, the police haven’t told us anything. What if Dad was in that car?’ Mack paused on the line. ‘Sorry, Jazz, I’m just so worried.’

‘Mack,’ she said gently. ‘We saw your dad. Just from a distance, but he looked OK.’

Mack stifled a sob. ‘You saw Dad? Where?’

‘Outside a factory. We didn’t get a chance to talk to him though. We found some other stuff, too, but we don’t know what to make of it. We think your dad might have been doing something . . . not entirely above board. It appears he was secretly “loaning” out treasures from the museum.’

‘What, for other exhibitions?’

‘No, for people—regular people, well, rich people.’

‘Why?’

Jazz realised she was going to have to spell it out. ‘It’s possible he was involved in a crime racket, copying antiquities . . . and maybe even selling them.’

‘No, not possible.’

‘Mack, I know it’s hard to believe, but we’ve been gathering evidence—’

‘You don’t understand. It’s not physically possible. To loan out the artefacts in secret, I mean. They’re all protected so that if you take them outside the museum, an alarm will sound. The alarm can only be disabled if two members of staff agree. And even if two people agreed, there are security cameras at all the entrances. Any piece, even down to a tiny figurine or piece of jewellery—they’re all priceless; you can’t just remove them. Besides, Dad has always worked passionately to prevent the illegal trade in antiquities. That’s one of the reasons Sir Robert decided to premiere his exhibition at the Knowledge Institute.’

This was new information. But Jazz knew it wasn’t enough to invalidate their evidence. Ignoring Phoenix’s warning glance, she told Mack everything they had discovered. ‘So now you know,’ she finished. ‘We can keep looking for Sapphire, but with your dad . . . I think we should hand over what we know to the police. If he is mixed up in something illegal—’

‘So you think he’s guilty too?’ Mack said angrily.

‘No, I don’t. But Phoenix has your dad’s mobile. There’s a voicemail alert on it from the night of his disappearance. That voicemail, his call history, his texts—they could be important. If we don’t give it to the police, we could be putting your dad in even more danger. If he’s innocent . . .’

She glared at Phoenix as he raised an eyebrow.

‘. . . and I truly believe he is,’ Jazz asserted, ‘he’ll be able to explain everything. And if the police find that he’s being held somewhere against his will, that would support his story.’

Mack sighed. ‘You’re right. But I still don’t want you to go to the police.’

‘Mack—’ Jazz began to protest.

‘No, listen to me.’ Mack spoke firmly. ‘Put the phone in my mailbox tonight and I’ll hand it into the police first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll tell them I found it so you and Phoenix won’t get in trouble. And everything else, well, the police also searched his office this afternoon, so there’s probably nothing you can tell them that they don’t already know.’

Jazz nodded slowly. ‘OK, that makes sense.’

‘But Jazz, I don’t want you to stop looking for him. Even though you saw Dad for a couple of minutes, he still hasn’t come home or even called us. He’s in trouble. You rescued Anika; I believe you can rescue my dad too.’

Jazz thought hard, searching for the right words to say. ‘Mack, I can’t promise we’ll rescue him, but I can say that I’m determined to rescue him.’ Jazz didn’t feel as confident as she sounded, but she was desperate to comfort her friend.

‘Thanks for everything, Jazz.’

After Jazz hung up she told Phoenix what they needed to do with Dr Zhang’s phone. She also explained why Mack had insisted that it wasn’t possible to secretly remove artefacts from the museum.

‘The plot thickens. We know he’s getting the stuff out, but how?’ Phoenix wondered.

‘I have an idea,’ said Jazz. ‘I need to get back to the museum and check it out.’

‘I’m thinking the same thing about Kendricks,’ said Phoenix. ‘I’ve got new audio equipment—this could be the perfect chance to try it out. I’ll rig it up somewhere around the factory entrance. If Sammy and Dr Zhang show up there again, their conversations will be recorded. Maybe we can find out what they’re planning for the artefacts they have there. I’ll put the phone in Mack’s mailbox on the way.’

‘Be careful, OK?’

‘You too.’

22:15

Jazz walked quietly up the hill towards the museum’s staff entrance. Phoenix had lent her some woollen gloves and a hoodie. In the dark, on her own, the Knowledge Institute seemed like a completely different place. Without meaning to, her movements became stealthy. She felt like a spy on a mission. Technically, Jazz was allowed to be there, but her presence this late at night would be suspicious, especially after the robbery.

Jazz had a small penlight on her keyring; she switched it on briefly, using it to blind the security camera as she swiped her staff pass and entered the building. If anyone inside saw her, she’d have to provide an explanation for her visit. But instead of coming up with a plausible excuse, her mind kept wandering back to what Mack had said on the phone. How were the artefacts being moved out of the museum? Jazz was determined to find out.

* * *

Having forgotten about concocting her covert cover story, Jazz was grateful not to bump into anyone still working as she thoroughly searched a long series of dimly lit offices in the administrative wing. So far she hadn’t found anything of significance. The internal security cameras were all located in the exhibition wings, so as long as Jazz kept out of those areas, she felt confident she could look around, unnoticed. Light shone from the crack under the security office door; otherwise, the place seemed deserted.

Dr Zhang’s office had been cordoned off with police tape. Jazz was glad she and Phoenix had checked it out on their earlier visit. Now she went over to the door to the section where Maureen and the other conservators worked. She gently turned the handle and opened the door just wide enough for her to slip inside. The hinges creaked and Jazz froze, heart pounding. But no-one seemed to have heard. It was much darker in here than the other offices, so she switched on her penlight and took a look around.

It appeared to be a workshop with large white tables spaced evenly apart. A mix of artefacts and tools were scattered about, but nothing seemed linked to Sir Robert’s exhibition. There were no keys or secret exits either. Jazz was about to leave when her light flashed upon something pinned to the back of the doorway.

It was a map, much older and more detailed than the one on the visitor’s brochure. She got her phone out and readied the camera. Lining up the shot, she pressed the button to take the picture. Chk. The sound of the camera seemed to boom in the silence and the flash momentarily blinded Jazz in the darkness of the workshop. She heard a door open.

‘What was that?’ A man spoke sharply. It sounded like Gustav.

‘Dunno, boss.’ That was Sammy.

‘We better go check it out.’

Jazz heard footsteps moving quickly towards her. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins and she crouched down instinctively. Realising her penlight was still on, she hurriedly switched it off. Quiet as a mouse, she waited behind the door, listening as the footsteps and voices came closer.

‘Go and wait by the back exit while I look in Zhang’s office,’ Gustav said. ‘Make sure nobody leaves.’ The two men walked past Jazz’s hiding place.

She was safe, but the security guards would come back. With Sammy guarding the staff entrance, Jazz needed to find another way out, or at the very least, somewhere better to hide.

Jazz stayed where she was until she heard Gustav stepping through the police tape into Dr Zhang’s office. Then, risking a glance out the door, she saw Sammy’s back was to her as he headed down the end of the corridor. With both guards distracted, it was now or never.

Jazz ran, silently and swiftly, through the open door of the security office towards the lobby and the main entrance. On her way, a crumpled piece of paper on the floor caught her eye. It had probably fallen out of one of the guard’s pockets as they hurried out. Recognising the Kendricks Engineering logo on the paper, Jazz picked it up. It looked like company notepaper that had been ripped in half. A single word was scrawled on it.

Jazz felt a chill run down her spine. But then she spotted something else that surprised her even more. In small letters underneath the Kendricks Engineering logo were the words: Delgado Enterprises, Inc.

Before she could consider the implications, Jazz heard voices in the corridor again. Sammy and Gustav were coming back! She stuffed the paper into her own pocket and sprinted to the lobby doors.

They were locked.

Searching for a button or a latch, all she could see was a numbered panel with an orange light. It was an electronic combination lock. And Jazz didn’t know the combination. On impulse, she tried Mack’s birthday, but the panel made a loud beeping sound and the light turned red.

She could hear the guards settling back into their office now. Afraid to linger any longer in the open area, Jazz decided to risk entering the Antiquities wing. Maybe if she kept to the shadows, she could avoid the cameras and hide until the guards went off on patrol again.

She adjusted her jacket hood to hide her face and peered through into the dark interior of the Antiquities room. With all the main exhibition lights off, and only the dim glow of an emergency bulb in each corner, the space seemed full of haunted figures. Keeping low, Jazz tiptoed past the gilded sarcophagus of a 3000-year-old Egyptian princess. It didn’t soothe her nerves at all knowing that its steep sides hid a dusty, decaying mummy. Nor were the three mummified cats on the shelf above the sarcophagus any comfort. Jazz wondered if they were there to guard the princess for all eternity.

Moving past more sleeping displays, Jazz headed for the service door she and Phoenix had come through earlier that day. It was so quiet and still, she could almost hear her heartbeat. As her eyes adjusted to the blackness, she could just make out the shape of a large statue standing in front of her.

What was that? Jazz stopped with a jolt as she heard a faint rustling. Was something moving in the darkness? Jazz was now even more conscious of being in a dark, closed museum. Her imagination saw the bones of the ancient mummy princess starting to move and articulate, like a scene from a horror movie. No way, don’t be silly, she told herself.

But then something really did happen.

A horrible noise began to echo around the Antiquities wing—a narrow-throated, inhuman cry. Jazz’s blood turned to ice.

It couldn’t be!

But it was. Jazz stood frozen with terror as the statue in front of her became a shadowy moving figure, a snake-like tendril darting about its head.

Medusa? It wasn’t possible.

The dreadful, unbelievable noise filled the darkness again. It was a bloodcurdling wail!

Could it be . . . the curse? Jazz shook her head, trying to dispel her fear. Think rationally, she told herself. It’s a superstition! There must be some other expla—

Jazz jumped in fright as the statue’s snake-like head suddenly dropped to the floor. She almost screamed as it knocked against her foot.

Then something furry rubbed against her leg. Despite herself, she let out a relieved laugh. It was the black cat. It leapt out of the way as she bent to pat it and raced further into the Antiquities room.

Feeling braver, she walked over to the shadowy statue and shone her penlight for a better look. It was an empty pedestal, about head height. What she had taken to be the head of Medusa had been the cat standing on top of it, black tail swishing back and forth over its head like a snake.

She switched off her light an instant later as she heard a shout and loud running footsteps.

‘That came from Antiquities!’ It was Gustav again. He and Sammy had gone out into the lobby. They must have heard the cat yowling, maybe they had even seen Jazz’s light. Furious at her own carelessness, Jazz ducked behind the pedestal in a crouch. But it was too narrow to conceal her properly. Frantically, she searched for somewhere better to hide. Just as she started to feel like her mission was cursed, Sammy yelled out a reply.

‘Wait, boss! Someone’s tried to open the front door!’ He’d noticed the red light from where Jazz had tried the combination lock earlier. The footsteps slowed and moved away.

‘Thank you, Sammy,’ Jazz whispered. The surly guard had unwittingly bought her some time. Now she needed to get out, fast.

The cat had reached a service door and was pawing at it. It turned to look at Jazz and gave a single ‘meow’.

‘You want to go through there?’ whispered Jazz. ‘Me too. Come on, let’s see what we find.’

Jazz opened the door cautiously. The cat slinked through the gap. Jazz followed, closing the door quietly behind her. She shone her penlight again, its beam picking out the green glow of the cat’s eyes where it sat, waiting for her. ‘Lead the way,’ she whispered to it. Maybe Medusa was cursed, but Jazz was hoping the cat was lucky.

The cat set off at a trot, Jazz making sure she kept it visible in the beam of her torchlight. They soon passed a door marked ‘Courtyard exit’. This was where she and Phoenix had come back into the museum that afternoon. As the corridor passed the closed door, it split into two, with one side sloping downwards.

‘The tunnel,’ Jazz breathed. Jazz picked her steps carefully, eyes always on the cat, who seemed to know that its role was to lead Jazz to what she hoped to find.

She noted that the tunnel was generously proportioned—more than big enough to transport large artefacts, or push several small ones on a trolley. After a few minutes the cat gave another ‘meow’ and ran slightly further ahead. Jazz quickened her pace too and soon found herself in familiar territory—the storage room under Dr Zhang’s office. A slurping sound startled her before the sweeping beam of the torch picked out the cat lapping contentedly at a water bowl.

Jazz walked over and patted it on the head. No-one who leaves water out for a kitten could do anything really bad, she thought to herself, her faith in Dr Zhang returning. While the cat kept drinking, Jazz kept thinking. How are they getting things out though, that’s the question.

Happy with its drink, the cat trotted over to the wall opposite the tunnel, where it started pawing once again and gave a ‘meow’ to let it out.

Intrigued, Jazz followed the cat. Sure enough, what she had taken for the rock wall of the underground storage room proved to be clever imitation sandstone with a hidden recess that shielded a doorhandle. Jazz grabbed it and pulled gently. A large section of the wall began to slide to the left, allowing light to spill in from the other side. Unsure what, or who, she might find there, Jazz flattened her back against the wall to stop its movement. But the cat stepped forward boldly, flicked Jazz a ‘thank you’ with its tail and promptly disappeared through the opening.

Holding her breath, Jazz peeped through the cat-sized gap. The light was from a streetlight. It gave enough illumination for Jazz to see that the storage room opened out onto the access lane and staff car park at the rear of the museum. There was no sign of anyone about. Still, Jazz took her time scoping out the area from her vantage point. Satisfied that the cat hadn’t set off any motion-sensor lights, she pulled the handle again.

The false wall slid sideways until it was fully open, leaving a space wide enough to drive a car through. There was no sign of security cameras or alarms. Slowly, Jazz stepped outside. She winced at the sound of dirt and grit crunching under her feet.

Dirt! Jazz retraced her steps and knelt down, reaching into her pocket. She grabbed a plastic zip-lock bag and scooped in some of the dirt. She’d be able to pass the sample to Mike tomorrow for comparison with the dirt from the Velocity wing. Shining the light on the ground, she could just make out a set of indistinct tyre tracks disappearing into the darkened storage area.

Pleased by what she’d discovered, Jazz slipped the sample bag into her pocket. Then, after ensuring the secret entrance was firmly closed once again, she headed home.

19:54

Phoenix pulled his long dark jacket around him as a cold wind blew through the deserted streets of Balfour Park and the lights of his cab vanished round the corner. He’d told his parents he was going to Mike’s so they wouldn’t worry if he got home late. He’d been dropped off at an address close to Kendricks, but still in a residential area—something that seemed less suspicious than a dark deserted factory. It was also a few streets from Mack’s house.

Dr Zhang’s phone was in a zip-lock bag. Phoenix jogged around the block and slipped it into the Zhang’s mailbox. Then he started walking. As the factory workshop came into sight, the darkness around it seemed to intensify and what little noise had come from the suburban area faded away.

He approached the building carefully. The menacing blue van was parked there, but there was no sign of movement. Just as he got into position a sensor light snapped on. Had he been spotted? Phoenix pressed himself against the wall of the building, hoping against hope he was covered by the shadows.

A man came out to the van, struggling with a heavy box. Phoenix caught his profile in the spotlight and recognised Sammy, the museum security guard they’d seen earlier. He hefted the box into the van with a grunt, then sauntered back into the workshop, whistling.

Keeping close to the wall, Phoenix moved around the building, looking for a good place to set up his equipment. He came to a large air-conditioning unit. A slight crack in the masonry behind the unit allowed him to peer inside. Perfect, he thought. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small microphone. Its size belied its power. It was no bigger than a lapel mic, but it could pick up sounds within a one-hundred-metre radius. Physical noise barriers like concrete, metal and stone made no difference to its sensitivity.

He plugged the mic in and activated the recording software on his laptop. A jagged line appeared on-screen as the mic picked up Sammy’s whistling. Confident it was recording, Phoenix used a loose bit of housing from the aircon unit to hide the computer.

Headlights suddenly swept in from the street. Phoenix flattened himself to the ground, trying to stay out of view. The car pulled up outside the workshop. Phoenix risked sticking his head up to get a look at the driver getting out of the car. He was tall and lean, and as he headed for the door the spotlight shone strongly on his face, casting deep shadows and making his hooded eyes look like hollow sockets. Phoenix let out an involuntary gasp! It was technology tycoon Pablo Delgado—the person Sir Robert believed had tried to hack into Sapphire. But what on earth was Delgado doing here?

He disappeared inside the workshop and Phoenix hurriedly plugged earphones into his laptop to listen in on whatever conversations the mic was picking up. He fiddled with the settings until he heard two voices coming through clearly.

‘Mr Delgado,’ a voice stammered. ‘I thought I was meeting up with the boss.’

‘Things aren’t being handled as well as they could be, Sammy,’ came the reply. ‘I’m stepping in to iron out a few problems.’

‘Y-y-yes, sir.’ It was clear from Sammy’s voice that Delgado was a more fearsome prospect than whoever he was calling ‘boss’.

‘Are those boxes packed?’ barked Delgado.

Another stammered reply confirmed they were.

‘Then why aren’t they in the van already?’ Phoenix couldn’t see Delgado, but the menace in his voice was unmistakable. This was a man who always got his own way. ‘Move it. Get ’em out to the van. I’ve got a boat docked and waiting for these goods. If anything gets delayed, I’ll be holding you responsible.’

Phoenix heard the shuffle and kick of footsteps as Sammy rushed to do as he was told. Once all was quiet again, Phoenix grabbed his phone. He had to tell Jazz that Pablo Delgado was mixed up in all this! He’d just started writing a text when he heard a noise behind him.

Phoenix swung round to see.

Too late.

Way too late.

A stunning blow to the back of his head.

An explosion of pain.

Blackness.

18:53

Phoenix groaned. The back of his head was throbbing and he was lying on hard ground. He opened his eyes and flinched at the pain this caused him. Phoenix blinked a few times, hoping he hadn’t sustained a serious injury. Gradually the pain settled down and, very gingerly, he sat up and tried to remember what had happened.

He’d been attacked outside Kendricks. Whoever struck him had dragged him into what looked like a disused office, built on a higher level than the factory floor. It was lit only by an Exit sign over the door.

Phoenix felt for his mobile, but it was no longer in his pocket. His captors had searched him and taken it. What about his laptop? Had they found it, stashed inside the aircon unit? He felt fear rising as he realised he couldn’t contact anyone for help. Did the criminals know he’d been spying on them? Probably. He got to his feet and, keeping low, crept to the office door. It was locked with a very serious deadbolt. Phoenix was looking around for something—anything—that he might use to deal with the lock when he heard the buzz and snap of fluorescent lights blinking on outside. Phoenix crawled to the office’s one small window and peered down. Sammy and Delgado were just below.

‘That’s all of it,’ said Sammy. ‘I’ll take it down to the harbour. You still leaving tomorrow night?’

Delgado responded only with a nod.

‘What about the kid?’ asked Sammy.

‘Leave him here.’

‘Poor guy’s probably just some kid snooping!’

‘Don’t you recognise him? He’s the one who almost caught you watching his place. You will need to deal with him in the morning.’

‘Deal with him—permanently?’

Phoenix felt his blood freeze with fear.

Delgado gave a nasty chuckle. ‘Something like that; I doubt he’ll put up much of a fight. Get up there and take a look at him before we go.’

Phoenix immediately dropped back to the position in which he’d regained consciousness, eyes closed, trying to still the rapid beating of his heart and slow down his breathing. He lay as limp as he could.

He heard the heavy tread of footsteps on the metal stairs and then a key turned in the lock. Phoenix briefly thought of trying to escape. But it wouldn’t be possible, not with two of them. Best play dead—and plan.

Heavy footsteps approached him. And then the kick in his flank.

The kick was bad; it took him all he had not to yell in pain. Sammy leant down and whispered in Phoenix’s ear. ‘Sleep tight. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.’ The man stood up and turned away. Pain seared from the site of the kick in a sickening wave, up and down Phoenix’s torso.

‘He’s out like a light. I sure hit him hard!’ Sammy joked to Delgado as he clanged down the metal steps.

Wide-eyed in the dark, Phoenix listened with all his might, but the rest of their work was done in silence apart from the occasional curse. In ten minutes they were finished. Phoenix listened as the factory door finally slammed closed and the light outside sputtered out. Moments later he heard a car drive away, the sound of it fading into the silence of the night. They’d gone.

I’ve got to get out of here, Phoenix told himself. I’ve got to find a way out. But how?

10:24

As soon as Jazz woke the next morning she reached for her phone. Before going to sleep, she’d sent Phoenix a message about the secret entrance to the museum. Eager for his reply, she was disappointed when she saw that nothing had come through. Jazz decided to call him. His mobile rang for a while before going to voicemail.

‘Please leave a message,’ said the recorded voice.

Maybe he’s still asleep, Jazz thought. But she was surprised; it wasn’t like Phoenix to have his phone on silent.

She opened up CrimeSeen and flicked through her notes so far, uploading the photo she had taken last night of the old museum map. It was fascinating, showing a number of tunnels running below the different sections of the museum. She traced her finger over the one from Dr Zhang’s office, noticing also that the map showed all the service doors between the Antiquities wing and admin offices.

Suddenly Jazz remembered the note she’d found in the security office that she’d stuffed in her pocket. Her jeans were scrunched up in a ball on her floor, so she got up and dug out the note, placing it in another of the zip-lock sample bags she had lying around from her work in Dr Lyons’ lab. She uploaded a photo of it to CrimeSeen.

Phoenix would want to see this link between Kendricks and Delgado. She decided to try and ring him again. Still no answer. She checked online. None of his social media pages showed him as active.

Suddenly images came into her head of the blue van: parked at the museum, watching them near Phoenix’s house, stopping outside Kendricks. Fear gripped her.

Hurriedly, Jazz pulled on some clothes. She didn’t even bother brushing her hair, but just splashed her face with water in the bathroom, cleaning her teeth as quickly as she could.

Her phone rang. Jazz snatched it up, hoping it was Phoenix calling back. But the screen showed that it was an unknown number.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Jazz, how are you? Um . . . Phoenix gave me your number.’

Jazz frowned. ‘Mike?’

‘Yeah, sorry to call so early. I hope you weren’t asleep. I left that soil analysis running overnight and checked it as soon as I got up. I thought I could drive around this morning and tell you about the results. Only if you’re not busy, of course. Are you busy?’

Despite her fear for Phoenix, Jazz found herself wondering—is Mike babbling? She was about to tell him that she was busy, when she had an idea. ‘Actually, I do have some time. Can you come now?’

‘OK, sure!’ said Mike, sounding relieved. There was a pause before he asked, ‘Will, um, will Phoenix be there? I thought maybe you and I could go and get some breakfast or something.’

Jazz couldn’t help but think of what Phoenix had said about Mike having a crush on her. This sure was a weird time for him to choose to ask her out!

‘Could we save breakfast for another day? I need to get to Phoenix’s place. It’s kind of urgent. Any chance you could drive me?’

* * *

Phoenix sat in the corner of the locked office, legs splayed out in front of him, his body heavy with despair. Since daybreak he had sat by the small window. Although grimy, it let in just enough light for him to make out a clock on the far wall. 9.00 am.

He’d come to the conclusion that his prison was extremely well fortified. The deadbolt was impossible to budge and the door seemed welded to its hinges. He tried smashing the glass of the small window with his fist rolled up in his jacket, but all that did was send shockwaves through his wrist. The safety glass was thick and would not break. He looked around for a sharp implement, but there were no tools at all in the disused office, just dusty, empty shelves and scattered papers.

On the floor in a corner, mocking him, lay an old plastic telephone, covered in dust. For a second, hope jumped in his mind. But as soon as he picked up the handset, he heard only the dead silence of a disconnected line. No-one had used it in ages and the cable had been pulled out a long time ago. He couldn’t even use it to smash the window. The plastic was so old and flimsy that the phone would break before the glass did.

Get a grip, Phoenix, he scolded himself. You’ve got to make a plan. He started to imagine hiding behind the door and pouncing on Sammy as he came in. Even if he couldn’t overcome the big man in a fight, the element of surprise might just give Phoenix sufficient time to dart past and down the stairs to freedom. But what if Sammy’s not alone?

Frustrated, Phoenix kicked the lowest part of the wall, and that’s when he noticed that part of the skirting board had come away. This gave him another idea. If I prise a piece of that skirting board away, I could use it as a weapon. Making sure to keep clear of any nails, he gripped onto the loose end of the board and pulled with all his strength, bracing against the wall with his feet and leaning back. With a mighty jerk, he was able to rip away about half a metre of timber.

Splinters of wood had broken off onto his clothes. Phoenix was standing up to brush them off when he noticed something else. It couldn’t be! But it was. Beneath the skirting board was an older part of the wall. And there, flattened by the pressure of the skirting board that had hidden it from view, was a wonderful sight. A telephone connection! Just because the phone had been disconnected, it didn’t mean the line was! Leaping up off the floor, he grabbed the telephone and its old cable, and plugged the old-fashioned pins into the fitting low down on the wall. He grabbed the handpiece and listened. He heard the sound of an operational telephone line.

He held his finger poised over the keypad then . . . What was Jazz’s number? When was the last time he’d memorised someone’s number? The only one he knew was his own.

That was it! One of the first apps he’d invented was one that allowed him to install voice-activated remote-access software on his mobile. It had seemed like the best idea in the world, but since he was never away from his phone he hadn’t had the chance to use it.

‘You’d better be as good a programmer as you tell everyone you are,’ Phoenix muttered as he dialled his own number. He waited, heart in mouth, to see if the call connected. When he heard the phone ringing, his hands began to shake. Carefully, he pressed the numbers of the code that would make the software answer.

Then he heard his own voice down the other end of the line. ‘Hey, what do you want?’ It had seemed funny when he programmed it, now it was just spooky.

‘Access phone book,’ his voice came out in a squeak.

‘What was that?’ said his own voice in response. ‘Can’t hear you!’ it taunted.

Wow, thought Phoenix. I really can be a jerk.

‘Access phone book,’ he said clearly.

‘Phone book accessed. Contact name?’

‘Call Jazz Mandell.’ Phoenix could have wept when it did just that.

09:40

‘So what’s this all about?’ Mike asked, as he pulled out of Jazz’s driveway. If he’d been disappointed to miss out on his chance for a breakfast date, he was hiding it well.

Jazz was grateful that he was being so helpful—not just with the lift but the soil sample as well. Nevertheless, she still wasn’t sure how much to tell him at this stage. She hesitated, weighing up her options. Finally she spoke. ‘I’m worried about Phoenix.’

‘So are a lot of people,’ Mike joked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and flashing a mischievous grin.

Jazz couldn’t help but smile back. If it wasn’t for his freckles, she thought, he could pass for older than his actual age.

‘I’m serious, it’s a long story . . . and I’m still not sure about a lot of it.’ She paused, watching for his reaction. ‘Let’s just say that Phoenix was out last night testing a surveillance program he was developing, and since then I haven’t been able to contact him.’

‘You think he could be in some kind of trouble?’

‘I do. But I could be wrong. We need to check at his house to see if he came home last night.’

‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ Mike wasn’t smiling anymore. ‘Do you know where he was testing the program?’

Jazz was about to reply when the sound of her mobile ringing made her jump. She couldn’t contain her relief when she saw Phoenix’s number on the screen. ‘Phoenix! Are you alright? I thought—’

‘Jazz, listen.’ Phoenix was speaking fast and his voice was low. ‘I’m locked inside Kendricks Engineering. I don’t know how much time I have. He’s threatened to deal with me when he—’

‘Phoenix? Phoenix? Are you there?’

No response.

‘Phoenix? Hello? Hold tight, I’m on my way!’

The line was dead.

* * *

Minutes later, Jazz was giving Mike directions to Balfour Park. Just around the corner from the workshop, she yelled to Mike to pull in at the kerb. She leapt from the car and headed for the cul-de-sac. Nothing moved on the street. Jazz immediately spotted the blue van parked outside Kendricks again, its rear doors open.

‘This way,’ called Jazz, running in a crouch to a factory next door. She and Mike hid behind a display of floor tiles. Mike was only average height but he was fairly burly. Anyone glancing at the tiles would notice him for sure.

Jazz looked over the top to see if it was safe to move, then ducked down quickly as a noisy commotion erupted outside Kendricks.

‘That’s Phoenix’s voice!’ hissed Mike, peering around the display as the shouting increased in volume.

They were shocked to see Phoenix being pushed and dragged out of Kendricks Engineering by Sammy the security guard.

‘Let me go!’ Phoenix yelled. ‘Help! Somebody! Help!’

‘Yell all you like, pal,’ said Sammy with an ugly laugh. ‘There’s nobody around to hear you!’

Jazz and Mike shrank back. Phoenix was making it as difficult as he could for Sammy, kicking and struggling to free his arms from their vicious hold as he was dragged towards the open doors of the blue van.

‘Jazz, what’s going on?’ Mike asked, his expression shocked.

‘No time to explain. We’ve got to help Phoenix! We need to give him a chance to get away!’

Mike swallowed bravely. ‘Let’s charge them. It’ll take them by surprise. We’ll have to be ready to make a run for it after though.’

Phoenix was fighting with everything he had, but Sammy was edging him closer and closer to the waiting vehicle.

‘OK,’ Jazz whispered. ‘Are you ready?’

Mike nodded.

‘On the count of three.’ She took a deep breath. ‘One, two, three!’

With a primal roar, Mike and Jazz flew across the footpath and barrelled into Sammy as hard as they could.

‘Oof!’ Jazz heard as her elbow whacked the security guard fair in the stomach. Mike drove forward with his shoulder like he was playing footy. Sammy fell back painfully for a moment. Then, releasing Phoenix from his vicious grip, Sammy clenched his fists in fury and sprang at Jazz and Mike.

Phoenix flew into action, hooking his right arm around Sammy’s neck and grabbing his right wrist with his left hand to tighten the wrestling hold that Simon had taught him. The two locked together, struggling and stumbling, as Jazz and Mike tried to find some way to intervene that wouldn’t hurt their friend.

A shrill ringtone cut the morning air. Despite his ongoing battle, Sammy dragged a hand up to reach the Bluetooth by his ear. ‘Yef?’ he managed. An angry voice could be heard on the other end of the line. ‘Small problem,’ Sammy grunted, pushing back into Phoenix’s midriff with an elbow. ‘Dealing with it . . . there soon, boss.’ Sammy suddenly bent his knees and used the momentum to fling his head back in a mighty lunge, copping Phoenix square on the nose.

‘Argh!’ yelled Phoenix, losing his grip on Sammy.

Before Mike or Jazz could step in, Sammy dived into the van, slammed it into gear and roared away up the street, back doors flapping wildly.

09:02

Bruised and dusty, Jazz and Mike bent over, hands on their knees, trying to get their breath back. Phoenix slumped to the ground and covered his face with shaky hands.

Jazz went to his side. ‘Phoenix, are you OK?’

‘I think so.’ He moved his hands away from his face to check his other injuries. ‘We need to go back inside.’

‘What? We just fought a guy getting you out!’

‘My phone. And my laptop. I need them back!’

‘How did you call me if you didn’t have your phone?’ asked Jazz, bewildered.

Phoenix let out an exaggerated sigh that turned into a cry of pain as Jazz helped him up off the ground. ‘You just don’t understand the depths of my genius, Mandell.’

‘Well, I definitely don’t understand what you’re talking about, but I see your ego’s not damaged,’ she said.

Phoenix grinned in reply and limped towards the aircon housing where he’d hidden his laptop. He breathed a huge sigh of relief to find it still safely stashed, recording equipment intact.

The front door of the factory was locked, so the three of them began searching for another way in. Soon Phoenix spied the palettes he’d climbed the day before. ‘Maybe we can get in through that window!’

As he began to climb, he felt a stab of pain in his side where Sammy had kicked him. He winced.

Jazz sighed. ‘Phoenix, you’re injured. I’ll do it. Mike, can you give me a hand?’

The two of them climbed to the top of the palettes, then Mike cupped his hands together and held them out for Jazz to use as a boost. She slid the window open, then hauled herself up and over the sill.

‘How are you going to get down?’ called Mike. He looked back to the ground. ‘That window’s pretty high.’

‘’s OK,’ came Jazz’s voice back through the window. ‘There’s a workbench underneath it; I can lower myself down. Go round to the front door and I’ll let you in.’ She disappeared from view.

Mike and Phoenix did as she asked and, a few minutes later, they were walking through the open door. Once inside, Mike gave out a low whistle of appreciation as he took in the high-tech operation. ‘Not exactly moulds and chisels, is it?’ he muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow.

Phoenix gave a quiet cry of triumph as he spotted his phone on a bench. He put his laptop next to it and switched it on. ‘I’m going to check the recording from last night.’

Jazz joined him at the laptop while Mike continued his tour of the space.

Phoenix loaded up the recording software and hit play. The first thing they heard was a low whistling. The whistling stopped at the sound of a door slamming. A conversation between two men followed.

Jazz recognised one of the speakers as Sammy. ‘Who’s the other guy?’ she asked.

Phoenix paused the recording. ‘I was about to text you just before I got hit. I saw him as he came in. It’s Pablo Delgado.’

‘Of course,’ exclaimed Jazz. ‘He owns this place.’ She explained about the note she’d found at the museum the night before. ‘But what on earth is he up to?’

‘Nothing good,’ said Phoenix. He was surprised by Jazz’s news, and a little annoyed. It made his discovery of Delgado’s connection with Kendricks seem less impressive. But he shrugged and added, ‘I heard him talking about a boat that is leaving tonight. He was worried about a shipment not being ready in time.’

‘Maybe he’s shipping stolen goods,’ mused Jazz. ‘I looked him up the other night after Sir Robert mentioned him. He’s been linked to loads of thefts, but has never been convicted of anything. Someone else always takes the fall.’

‘That’s Delgado for you,’ said Phoenix. ‘Shall we carry on listening to the recording I risked my life for?’

Jazz nodded and Phoenix pressed ‘play’ again.

‘Not that one!’ they heard Delgado bark. ‘That’s the original; Camille will look after that. The copies are these ones over here. Box them up.’

They heard an embarrassed laugh from Sammy. ‘Hard to tell the difference. But that’s the point, isn’t it? We don’t want customers knowing they’re getting a fake, with the price they’re paying for these “genuine” treasures!’

Jazz looked at Phoenix. ‘This just keeps getting worse!’ she said.

Phoenix shook his head in disbelief. ‘No way Zhang didn’t know about this.’

Soon they heard Delgado talking again. ‘I don’t know why I bother with you and your boss. First the stuff-up with Sir Robert at the museum, and now you can’t even tell what you’re supposed to be boxing up for shipment.’

‘I heard today that Sir Robert could be out of hospital by tomorrow. Once he’s not under police guard we’ll nab him, no worries.’

‘Hmph,’ replied Delgado gruffly. ‘Sapphire would already be operational if Grimshaw had been put in the car like I said.’

‘The old man was hurt! He’d have been no use to us dead. What if we got caught with a dead knight?’

‘I didn’t realise getting caught was part of the plan,’ Delgado snapped in reply.

‘No-one got caught. I did all the risky work. I got Gustav away from the scene during the raid and switched off the security cameras. Those kids never saw a thing!’

‘I don’t care about the kids. But Sapphire is useless without those activation frequencies!’

‘You wouldn’t have known about that if I hadn’t overheard Sir Robert explaining it to the kids. I reckon, if anything, you owe me.’

‘I’m paying you already, aren’t I? Get back to work.’

The conversation was over. Phoenix stopped the recording and gripped the workbench with both hands. ‘I knew it,’ he breathed. ‘Sammy helped steal Sapphire. He’s probably also been helping Dr Zhang bypass museum security to bring stuff here to copy.’

‘Yeah, but he wasn’t driving the ram-raid car. He was with Gustav. Someone else is involved too, someone Delgado is annoyed with.’

Phoenix cocked his head at her. ‘Isn’t it obvious? It’s Dr Zhang. We know someone in this factory called him before the ram-raid. It must have been Delgado, giving him the order to take Sapphire. And if Delgado’s shipment is leaving tonight, Sapphire will be part of it. Your 48 HOURS deadline is even more important now.’

Jazz slumped onto a stool. Phoenix’s theory made sense, but she just couldn’t believe that Mack’s father would destroy the Velocity wing and steal from his own museum. ‘What has Dr Zhang got himself involved in?’ she asked. ‘We need to find him!’

‘And how is Toby Grimshaw involved in all this?’ pondered Phoenix, eyebrows knitted together. ‘Was he just lying about his conversation with Sir Robert to protect his family’s reputation? If his dad loses money, then so does he.’

Jazz looked up, crossing her arms as she took in their surroundings. ‘I don’t know. Maybe there’s some kind of father-son rivalry between them. We’ll have to wait and see what Anika gets from his files. In the meantime, how are Sammy and Delgado making these copies?’

Jazz walked to a bench on which stood a box-shaped device. It was hollow and about the size of an old-fashioned computer monitor. Above it was a complicated piece of equipment mounted on rods and hooked up to a computer on the bench. ‘This is a 3D printer, right?’

‘Yep,’ agreed Phoenix, coming up next to her. ‘And a pretty good one, too.’

‘It’s nothing compared to this,’ Mike called from further across the workshop. Jazz and Phoenix walked over to join him where he was standing in front of a much larger device. This one had spools of multiple materials feeding into different nozzles and could clearly produce a much larger end result.

‘Wow, that is absolutely the latest tech,’ said Phoenix. He turned in a circle, taking in the workshop as a whole. ‘Yep, I can see what they’re doing. The original artwork is placed in here and scanned from every angle, like an MRI. That image is converted by design software that then sends it to the printer, which produces a replica. They’ll have chosen a mix of polymers that closely matches the weight and feel of stone or marble. For bronze, silver or even gold artefacts, they might even be printing in the actual metal.’

‘And here’s the finishing machine,’ continued Mike. ‘The 3D print-out would be very close, but not identical. So they’d use an acetone solution to polish it back to match the original. Any remaining differences would be invisible to the naked eye.’

‘Come and check this out,’ said Phoenix, beckoning them over to a bench piled with paper and heavy stamps.

‘What is it?’ asked Jazz.

‘Counterfeit,’ said Phoenix. ‘I’d know this equipment anywhere.’ Jazz remembered Phoenix bragging about being good at forging signatures.

‘Huh?’ said Mike. ‘Counterfeit, like money?’

‘Counterfeit that’s helping them make money.’ Phoenix pointed out a template lying on the workbench. ‘Authentication certificates. Not only are they copying the artworks, they’re making counterfeit certificates to prove to people that they’re the real thing. And check out the authoriser at the bottom of this certificate.’ Phoenix looked grim.

Jazz gasped. ‘Dr Zhang! He was signing these documents.’

‘That’s probably what he was doing here last night, getting ready for the shipment they took out today.’

‘This is truly bad,’ lamented Jazz. ‘Whether he was forced into this or not, with his signature on the paperwork he’s going to be in a lot of trouble if this gets to the police.’

‘Speaking of trouble,’ said Mike, ‘it sounds like we have company.’

They heard the loud screeching of a vehicle skidding to a stop outside the main entrance. It was quickly followed by the sound of doors slamming and shouting.

Phoenix listened. ‘It’s Sammy,’ he confirmed. ‘But this time he’s not alone. We gotta get out of here—now.’

Jazz scanned the factory for a safe way out. ‘Over there!’ She pointed to a roller door on the back wall.

They dashed over. Mike got there first. He tried to lift the door, but couldn’t get it higher than about half a metre. ‘It’s stuck,’ he said.

‘Maybe it opens with a button or remote.’ Phoenix started searching some nearby messy workbenches, but Jazz pushed him back towards the roller door as Sammy and his mates burst through the main entrance.

‘No time!’ she said. ‘Just crawl under!’

The three of them scrambled through the narrow opening, covering themselves in dust from the dirty concrete floor.

Jazz heard Sammy shouting as she got to her feet. She was outside in a disused car park. The men were running through the factory, searching for them.

‘Where’s the car?’ Phoenix asked.

‘Round the front. In a side street.’ Mike shook his head. ‘We’ll have to go back for it later.’

Phoenix spotted a general store a couple of blocks away. ‘We can hide in there!’ he told Jazz and Mike.

The trio sprinted across the car park and ran out through the gate, not stopping until they were inside the store. The man at the counter gave them a suspicious look as they stood there, trying to catch their breath.

Mike looked back the way they came. ‘I don’t think they followed us,’ he said.

Phoenix sighed with relief. He was exhausted and his injured head and side still ached.

Jazz pulled out her phone to look at the map of the area. ‘The car is here,’ she said, showing Phoenix the street where Mike had parked. Then she pointed to a nearby main road. ‘Let’s walk along here until we’re past the factory and then double back.’

Cautiously they exited the store and looked around. There was no sign of Sammy, so they crossed the road and began the trip back to the car.

‘Alright,’ Mike said, ‘now we’re no longer being attacked, can you guys tell me what’s really going on?’

Phoenix opened his mouth to speak but then stopped when he saw Jazz frown doubtfully.

‘Come on, Jazz. It’s pretty obvious all this has something to do with the museum.’ Mike gave her a winning smile. ‘Besides, I’ve got skills! I could help.’

Jazz smiled back. Mike was right, it was too late to try and keep him out of this. ‘OK,’ she said.

* * *

By the time they got to the car, Mike knew all about their investigation into the disappearance of Dr Zhang and Sapphire. Jazz had been worried he wouldn’t understand, but Mike actually seemed impressed.

He and Phoenix discussed what other forensic evidence they could analyse while Jazz sent a message to Anika. She asked her to meet them at Phoenix’s place with anything she’d found in Toby’s files.

As he climbed into the back seat, Phoenix thought of what might have happened if Mike and Jazz hadn’t shown up. ‘Thanks,’ he said simply. ‘Sammy was talking about throwing me off a cliff into the ocean. You guys kind of saved my life.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Jazz said simply.

‘Any time, mate,’ said Mike.

07:03

They limped into Phoenix’s house, all three feeling decidedly worse for wear. Jazz’s legs were grazed from when she’d landed on the footpath after rushing Sammy. Phoenix ached all over and his nose was swollen. Mike, too, had a bruised shoulder courtesy of Sammy’s fist and his ginger curls were grey with dust. All of their clothes were filthy. They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom while Phoenix looked for something to eat.

‘Did you bring the results of the soil profile?’ Jazz asked Mike when they finally sat down.

He nodded. ‘I have to say, I’m not sure why you guys were so keen to get this analysed.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well it’s just a bog-standard soil sample.’ Mike chuckled at his own joke. ‘Get it? Bog? Soil?’

Phoenix groaned and Jazz rolled her eyes. Seeing this, Mike took a computer printout from his pocket and smoothed it on the bench.

‘I wasn’t expecting so many numbers,’ commented Jazz, looking at the array of statistical data on the printout.

‘It sounded urgent, so I thought it was going to be laced with carcinogens or poisons. But it’s nothing like that. It’s basically just a generic local soil profile with a bit of sandstone mixed in.’

Phoenix looked deflated, but Jazz was all ears.

‘Sandstone?’

‘Yeah. That’s not unusual around here, though. You’ve probably noticed lots of buildings in the city are sandstone. There’s still a big quarry outside of town.’

‘Can you match up two samples?’ Jazz asked eagerly. ‘If I gave you another one to analyse could you tell if they were from the same source?’

‘Of course,’ he said, in a cocky voice that reminded Jazz way too much of Phoenix. As if reading her mind, Mike glanced meaningfully at Phoenix. ‘I hear your mum’s got a pretty sweet lab set-up here. The analysis sure would be quicker and easier with access to all the right equipment.’

Jazz gave Phoenix a nudge, too excited to notice his grimace of pain. ‘Come on, what are you waiting for? Let’s get to the lab!’

* * *

‘So where’s this second sample from?’ Phoenix asked Jazz once they were all kitted out.

Jazz explained what she’d discovered at the museum the night before and opened up CrimeSeen to show them the old map. ‘That area under Dr Zhang’s office is more than just a storage space—it’s a way to sneak out artworks and avoid the cameras at the other entrances. There was room for a car—or van—to drive right in so it could be loaded out of sight. I grabbed a sample of the dirt from inside.’

She passed Mike the sample and he set to work, starting first with a visual examination under the high-power magnifier, much as Jazz and Phoenix had done the day before with the sample from Phoenix’s jeans.

‘This way I can isolate the most important particles,’ Mike explained. ‘There are likely to be contaminants—grass, synthetics or the odd trace of animal poo.’ Jazz thought immediately of the cat. ‘It’s pretty low-tech but the trained eye can do a good job of purifying the sample.’

‘I did that with yesterday’s sample,’ said Phoenix.

Mike nodded, not taking his eyes from the delicate work on the bench.

‘OK, so the first test is pretty straightforward—checking the pH.’ Phoenix was already standing by with a clean white tile and a pH kit. Mike added a few drops of indicator dye and then sprinkled a white powder over the top. Over the next thirty seconds the powder gradually changed colour to a greyish-green. Mike placed a chart with different coloured squares on it next to the sample, moving it along until he found a coloured square that matched the powder. Referring back to his report from the first sample, he nodded. ‘Yep, pH matches. That’s not conclusive by itself, though.’ He glanced around the lab. ‘I’m guessing there’s a colorimeter in here somewhere?’

Phoenix led Mike over to a small device that looked like a cross between a set of scales and an old-school calculator. Mike took out a small, square glass container. ‘This is a cuvette,’ he explained. ‘I put some of the sample in here, and it fits the slot in the colorimeter. The machine passes light through the sample and reports on how particular wavelengths are absorbed. This can tell us about the micro- and macro-nutrients in the soil.’

Mike deftly set the machine going, with Phoenix hovering attentively at his shoulder. After a few minutes, the machine produced a printout. ‘These are the concentrations in parts per million,’ said Mike. He compared the printout with his analysis of the sample taken in the Velocity wing. ‘The samples are very close. I can say with some certainty that the soil you collected from the Velocity wing is indistinguishable from the soil found in the storage area under Dr Zhang’s office.’

‘The ram-raid car could have been parked there and brought the sandstone in with the mud,’ said Jazz.

‘It’s highly likely,’ confirmed Mike. ‘But there was something else in that first sample, something synthetic.’

Phoenix nodded. ‘We thought so too.’

‘Our guess was carpet,’ added Jazz.

‘Not a bad guess. Looking at the results, the fibres appear to be artificial grass.’

‘Seems a bit weird for that to be tracked in by a car, doesn’t it?’ asked Phoenix dubiously.

Jazz tapped her fingers on the bench. ‘Maybe those fibres didn’t come from the tyres. Remember the footprints? Maybe whoever took Sapphire brought it on their shoes. Maybe they play a lot of tennis—’

‘Or miniature golf!’ Phoenix joked.

Jazz glanced at the clock. It was past noon. The first 48 HOURS were melting away; but their net was tightening. Was it tightening fast enough?

05:00

The good mood in the lab was soon interrupted as a notification came through on Jazz’s phone. ‘Oh no!’ she cried.

‘What is it?’ demanded Phoenix.

‘There’s a warrant out for Dr Zhang’s arrest!’

‘What?’ said Phoenix. ‘Why?’

‘It says here he’s wanted for questioning over multiple counts of fraud, as well as an incident at the museum two nights ago.’

‘So the police are making the same connections we are,’ said Phoenix. ‘There’s evidence mounting against him and as long as he isn’t around to speak for himself it’s no surprise that the police are becoming more suspicious.’

‘Speak for himself . . .’ Jazz repeated thoughtfully. ‘There is one bit of evidence we have in his favour.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Phoenix, curious.

‘The phone calls we overheard, and his reaction to them. He wasn’t behaving like someone going along willingly with a scheme.’

‘They’re hardly evidence, though. If only we could hear what was being said on the other end of the line . . .’

Jazz looked at him quizzically.

‘The voicemail,’ explained Phoenix. ‘You wouldn’t let me listen to it before, something about following proper procedures, I believe?’

‘But it’s too late now. Mack’s given it to the police.’

Phoenix smiled enigmatically as he pulled his own mobile out of his backpack and started dialling a number. ‘At this point, I’m sure you’ll agree that proving Dr Zhang’s innocence is worth bending a few rules for,’ he said.

Jazz thought he looked totally smug, but she took the bait and asked, ‘Phoenix, what are you talking about?’

‘Before I delivered the phone to Mack, I copied Zhang’s text messages to my own phone and—’ He broke off to laugh at Jazz’s outraged expression. ‘Chill, I only copied the ones from the past 12 months. And I haven’t read them. No desire to! Just . . . you never know. They might come in handy.’

‘OK,’ Jazz said. ‘Just remember this is Mack’s dad you’re talking about. How would you like it if he hacked into your phone and read your messages?’

‘It’s a totally different situation.’ Phoenix protested.

‘I don’t think the police would think so,’ Jazz said. ‘Anyway, what does this have to do with his voicemail?’

‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you! While I was copying the text messages, I realised I could set up a remote access login to his voicemail. I’m sure the police have listened to the message by now, so there shouldn’t be anything wrong with us having a listen too.’

Phoenix finished dialling the number and keyed in the access codes to log into the voicemail service. Then he placed his phone on the bench and switched it to speaker.

‘Your half-hour to reconsider is up, Zhang. We’re taking Sapphire whether you like it or not. No more warnings. No more threats. We’re coming for you, and your family.’

Silence settled on the room.

‘Poor Dr Zhang,’ Jazz finally said, her voice a whisper. ‘They were threatening his family as well.’

Phoenix flicked back his fringe and grabbed his laptop. ‘Hang on,’ he said.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Mike.

‘That voice—it’s familiar.’ Phoenix clicked on a shortcut to the audio software he used for the recording at Kendricks. ‘There’s a lot of background noise but I’ll fiddle with the levels until I can isolate the voice.’ He moved equaliser bars up and down until Delgado’s conversation with Sammy came through clearly. Next, Phoenix uploaded Dr Zhang’s voicemail message and played both recordings, one after the other.

During playback Phoenix watched a line on a chart at the bottom of the screen. It went horizontal between words, but each time a voice spoke a patch of vertical lines appeared, varying in height and thickness.

‘Yes,’ said Phoenix. ‘You can see the similarities in the waveforms from the two recordings. And if we look at the frequencies, it’s evidence that both recordings are the same voice. That threatening phone call to Dr Zhang was from Delgado. This proves he’s the one pressuring Dr Zhang to help them steal Sapphire.’

‘Dr Zhang’s not going to prison for this, no way!’ said Jazz with great determination. ‘Whatever he’s mixed up in, he’s been forced into it. We saw him after that phone call—he looked terrified. If people are forced into an action with threats of violence, that’s not a crime.’

‘But what are they going to do with Sapphire?’ asked Mike. ‘They can’t copy it, surely.’

‘No,’ said Phoenix. ‘But Sapphire has the capacity to smash through any firewall, any password, any encryption no matter how brilliant, and unravel every security system in every bank, airport, electricity grid, and high-security government department. Sapphire could render all security systems completely useless. A lot, and I mean a lot, of very bad people would pay as high a price as Delgado chooses for that service.’

‘But they’d need the frequencies to make Sapphire operational,’ said Jazz. ‘And only Sir Robert knows them.’

‘Then how safe is he?’ Mike asked

‘We’d better find out,’ said Phoenix. ‘I’ll check with the hospital.’ He made the call and hung up. ‘Sir Robert left the hospital this morning,’ he said.

Jazz pulled out Sir Robert’s business card and shoved it at Phoenix. ‘Call him! Find out if he’s OK.’

Phoenix did so. ‘Straight to voicemail.’

‘He could be in great danger.’

‘But he’s smart. He’ll know his information is vital to the criminals and will stay low.’

‘If they get hold of him . . .’ Mike started to say.

‘They’ll make him talk,’ Phoenix said in a whisper, ‘and then it’s all over.’

05:08

The trio left the lab, binning their personal protection equipment on the way out. Almost immediately, the doorbell rang.

‘That’ll be Anika,’ said Jazz, going to the front door.

Anika was in her athletics gear and carrying a big sports bag. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised. ‘I can’t stay long, I’ve got training in an hour.’

In the living room, Jazz, Phoenix and Mike brought Anika up to speed on everything they’d found out so far.

‘So, really,’ Jazz concluded, ‘Toby Grimshaw is the missing link. What have you found out from his files?’

Anika pulled her laptop out of her sports bag and opened it up. ‘There were loads of hits from those searches you set up. So I looked through everything and put anything relevant into a separate folder.’

Jazz and Phoenix nodded, eager to see what Anika had unearthed. They opened up the folder on their own devices. Jazz started transferring the contents to CrimeSeen.

‘OK, the first search results were from “statue”. From what I can see, Toby was the one in charge of organising the shipping of Medusa. His father paid the bill, of course, but Toby managed all the arrangements. There are quite a few emails about it between the two of them.’

‘That’s interesting,’ commented Jazz. ‘Phoenix, remember Sir Robert said that he thought we would have seen Toby around the museum?’

‘Must have been because Toby offered to ship the statue,’ said Phoenix.

‘The next document is the shipping invoice,’ said Anika.

‘We can guess that shipping cost a bomb,’ said Phoenix, ‘sending something as huge, fragile and valuable as that all the way across the world.’

‘It’s not the cost that’s interesting. Look at the route.’

Jazz and Phoenix examined the document. It showed that rather than being shipped directly from England, the statue had first been sent to France.

‘It was taken off at Marseille,’ commented Phoenix.

‘Hmm,’ said Jazz. ‘That’s in the south of France, not far from where Toby’s holiday pictures were taken.’ She opened up Toby’s Facebook page. ‘The dates match!’ she exclaimed. ‘Grimshaw was in France at the same time as the statue.’

‘Maybe the ship had to stop and refuel. Or some French archaeologists wanted to have a look at it,’ offered Mike.

‘Under the same search,’ continued Anika, ‘a name that came up a lot was Camille Wolf-Ferrari.’

Phoenix nodded. ‘Yeah, we saw her on Facebook too. His girlfriend, I guessed.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Anika. ‘I looked her up. There are loads of news articles about her, mostly in French, but I managed to find one on a British site. She used to be director of Galerie du Sud, in Nimes, but has been completely discredited after being found guilty of fraud.’

‘What kind of fraud?’ asked Jazz.

‘Illegally copying artworks.’

Phoenix sat up straighter. ‘Seriously? And Toby Grimshaw was hanging out with her in France, while the Medusa was there?’

‘How long was the statue in France?’ Mike asked.

‘Just overnight by the looks of the shipping invoice,’ replied Anika.

‘Did you find anything about Dr Zhang?’ Jazz asked.

‘Yep, plenty,’ said Anika. ‘There were heaps of emails between them from a while ago, lots of stuff about Toby saying he was a huge fan of the museum. What’s odd though was that they were emailing each other almost daily, then all of sudden nothing.’

‘Weird,’ agreed Jazz. ‘Anything to suggest why?’

‘Here’s the last email between them.’

Jazz clicked on the link and found herself on the homepage of SecureSpeak. ‘I guess they were worried about online privacy. Without their log-in details we won’t be able to see any more of their messages.’

‘I wonder . . .’ said Phoenix, reaching for his phone.

The others watched as he clicked on an app and opened a document file. It was a list of text messages ordered by date. As Phoenix began rapidly skimming through them, Jazz realised their significance.

She explained to Anika.

‘It’s all of Dr Zhang’s text messages from the past year. Before Mack handed his phone over to the police Phoenix hacked into it to save a copy of them.’

‘Is that even legal?’

Jazz rolled her eyes. ‘It wasn’t my idea, but—’

‘Bingo!’ Phoenix cried, cutting Jazz off. ‘There’s a text message from Toby Grimshaw on the same date as that last email. I bet it’s the username and password.’

Phoenix typed the details into SecureSpeak. The cursor spun on the screen for a few seconds then . . . ‘We’re in!’ he cried triumphantly.

A thought occurred to him and he chuckled and looked at Jazz. ‘It’s like that old guy said, “Every contact leaves a trace”.’

Jazz laughed out loud. ‘And Locard could have had no idea about online messaging!’

They all crowded around Phoenix’s laptop to read the chat between Toby Grimshaw and Dr Zhang.

DrZ

I can’t carry on with our endeavour as things currently stand. It’s getting out of hand. From now on, I’ll take my chances with sorting out the museum’s financial issues myself.

LuckyT

And how do you plan to do that? By abandoning the money you invested?

DrZ

If that’s what it comes to, yes. But the patent is my own. I can find my own suppliers if your industry contacts refuse to do business without you.

LuckyT

Maybe we can work this out. What’s got you spooked?

DrZ

I visited Kendricks today.

LuckyT

And?

DrZ

I saw evidence that you are accelerating the project without my knowledge.Your men have removed valuable artefacts from the museum without my authorisation. I saw ten times the number of copies we agreed on! Hundreds more certificates bearing my signature!

LuckyT

My associates have been a little enthusiastic. But look on the bright side! The faster we move, the sooner we see the cash.

DrZ

I don’t understand how you can be so cavalier about this! Thank you for your work so far, but I’m sorry. This is where we part ways.

LuckyT

I’ve got an offer from a potential buyer that might change your mind.

DrZ

No.

LuckyT

It’s a sure-fire bet.

DrZ

I’m not interested in bets. Gambling might be your favourite activity but it’s certainly not mine. It’s an expensive hobby, and from what I’ve heard, one you can ill afford.

LuckyT

I’ll do you a favour, just this once, and ignore that. But it would be a big mistake for you to ignore this client. Come to my place at the usual time, and we’ll meet the man in person. After that, if you still want me out, I promise I’ll go quietly. I’ll even return the remainder of your investment.

CHAT ENDED

‘So Toby’s involved in the loaning and forging too,’ said Phoenix. ‘But who is this potential buyer?’

Anika frowned. ‘Maybe one of Toby’s millionaire mates? Or even his dad? It’s got to be someone with money . . . and power.’

But Jazz was more concerned about something else. She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. ‘Dr Zhang wasn’t upset that the artefacts were being copied. He was only worried that there were too many copies being made. It doesn’t make sense.’

‘It makes sense if he’s guilty,’ Phoenix said.

Jazz just shook her head. What was she going to tell Mack?

‘It looks bad,’ Mike said gently, ‘but maybe we’re not seeing the whole picture. And if Zhang had a patent . . . well, he couldn’t have a patent to do something illegal.’

‘You’re right,’ said Jazz, suddenly grateful that she’d agreed to include Mike in their investigation. ‘All this evidence is circumstantial. Until we find Dr Zhang—’

‘And Sapphire,’ interrupted Phoenix.

‘Until we find them,’ Jazz said, talking over him, ‘we can’t make any assumptions. We just need to look at the evidence with an open mind and follow where it leads us.’

While Jazz was talking, Anika was looking through some more of Toby’s files on her laptop.

‘What are you doing?’ Phoenix asked her.

‘Looking for something. I didn’t think it was significant earlier, but . . .’ Anika paused, absently tucking a lock of long dark hair behind one ear. ‘Ah, here it is!’ She pointed to her screen. ‘Dr Zhang’s reference to Toby’s gambling means this email attachment makes more sense.’

‘That’s a very big debt,’ commented Mike as they read through the letter.

‘Phoenix, look,’ said Jazz excitedly.

Jazz was pointing to the casino logo on the letterhead. She opened up CrimeSeen to show her friends the image Phoenix had pieced together with his Jigsaw app. The symbols on the logo and in the image were a match!

‘Of course!’ said Phoenix.

Mike and Anika looked at one another, puzzled.

‘Neptune’s trident!’ he explained. ‘We found it on some broken-up object on the floor of the Velocity wing after the ram raid. Jazz thought it was a piece of ancient pottery knocked over by the car, but it couldn’t have been. It must have come from the casino!’

‘So you think whoever stole Sapphire had come from the casino?’ asked Anika, not convinced. ‘But what would break like that? A souvenir? And why would anyone carry around something like that anyway?’

Mike was looking closely at the image on CrimeSeen. ‘It’s definitely the same logo, but I think Jazz was still right about it being broken pottery. It’s a casino gambling chip. Top casinos like Neptune’s make their chips out of clay. It could have fallen out of someone’s pocket and been stepped on in the rush to get away.’

‘So the thief likes gambling, and so does Toby.’ Phoenix turned to Jazz. ‘Do you think Toby Grimshaw drove the ram-raid car?’

‘Well, loads of people hang out at the casino . . . but only someone involved with the museum would know where to ram the car so they could grab Sapphire and get out of there before security came running.’

‘If Toby is in trouble with Neptune’s, he might have dropped the chip deliberately, to try and make it look like the casino was mixed up in the theft,’ Anika said.

‘What about Sammy, the guy that attacked us at Kendricks?’ suggested Mike. ‘He’s a security guard at the museum, isn’t he?’

Phoenix nodded. ‘But he was distracting Gustav during the raid, remember? We heard him telling Delgado in the conversation I recorded.’

‘Delgado and Sammy are both involved, but we only have evidence that links them to Kendricks. Toby’s the only one we know for sure has links to Neptune’s,’ Jazz said. ‘Whether he dropped the chip by accident or on purpose, the letter proves that, despite his celebrity dates and fancy cars, he owes the casino money. I’d say that’s motive enough to break into a museum, steal a prototype computer and ransom it off to the highest bidder.’

Phoenix stretched. ‘Also, Sapphire is his dad’s computer. Maybe Toby feels kind of entitled to it.’

‘Good point,’ said Jazz. ‘And from the way Sir Robert spoke about him, it sounded like he and his son weren’t exactly on the same page.’

‘One other thing,’ said Anika, clicking open another file. ‘The most recent email in Grimshaw’s inbox confirmed a pending bank transfer of almost seventy thousand dollars.’

‘Does it say who it’s from?’ demanded Jazz.

Phoenix leant sideways on his chair, moving closer to Anika to see what she was reading. He looked across the laptop screen at Jazz, his grey eyes wide. ‘Pablo Delgado.’

Jazz exhaled a long, slow breath. ‘Toby Grimshaw is in it up to his neck,’ she said. ‘I think he’s due another visit.’

02:55

‘So what’s our plan?’ asked Jazz, as they waved goodbye to Anika. Mike had dropped her at athletics on their way to the harbour.

‘We can’t just rock up and ask him “Did you steal Sapphire? And kidnap Dr Zhang?”,’ Mike joked.

‘We can say that we were heard Sir Robert call him from the museum. That we know he lied to the reporter when he said his father sounded fine,’ Phoenix said. ‘We can play him the voicemail Delgado left for Dr Zhang. Maybe Toby will get scared and tell us something so we don’t go to the police.’

‘You’ll be putting yourselves in danger,’ Mike warned.

‘We managed this morning,’ Jazz reminded him.

Mike parked just in front of the apartment building and the three of them walked up to the front entrance. It looked as big as a castle drawbridge and just as secure.

Phoenix pressed the buzzer for the penthouse a few times, but there was no answer.

‘Maybe he’s there, but just not answering. He’s probably sick of reporters by now,’ Mike said.

Jazz frowned. ‘We need to get inside the complex. We’ll be harder to ignore if we’re outside his front door.’

‘I could try hacking into the security system or something,’ suggested Phoenix.

Mike sighed. ‘You seem to be overthinking this a tad. People have to leave, right?’

‘We don’t have time to wait for Grimshaw,’ said Phoenix.

‘I know that. But just wait until another resident comes out, then walk in before the door shuts.’

Jazz and Phoenix shared a look. Could it really be that simple? Before they could think much more, the front door opened and a woman came out wheeling a bicycle.

‘Now’s your chance!’ said Mike, his green eyes gleaming. ‘I’ll wait by the car in case Sammy or Delgado shows up.’

Jazz suddenly felt reluctant to leave Mike behind. But it was now or never. ‘OK, um—thanks!’ Jazz said.

She and Phoenix moved forward confidently, passing the woman as she clipped on her bike helmet. Before the door had even started to close, she was on the bike, riding off without a backward glance. Jazz and Phoenix walked straight inside.

Phoenix hurried over to the lifts.

‘Uh-uh,’ whispered Jazz, grabbing him by the arm. ‘That part may have been easy, but those lifts need a key pass. It’s the fire stairs for you and me.’

The two of them began the long slog, finally emerging, puffing, at the penthouse level. The private foyer was empty. A polished marble floor ended at floor-to-ceiling windows with sweeping city views. Abstract steel sculptures decorated the wall either side of Toby’s front door.

‘If this is the view from the foyer, what’s it like inside?’ wondered Jazz.

‘Only one way to find out,’ said Phoenix.

Jazz rapped on the door. There was no answer. She tried again. This time she heard a strange noise. ‘What was that?’ she asked.

‘I can’t hear anything.’

‘Come closer. Put your ear to the door and listen. There’s a funny, mumbling sound.’

Phoenix pressed his ear firmly against the door and listened. Sure enough, Jazz was right. ‘Mr Grimshaw! Are you all right?’ he asked. He turned to Jazz. ‘We need to find someone with a key!’

‘Or a code.’ Jazz pointed to a keypad by the door.

The noise from inside changed, and now Jazz and Phoenix could hear a muffled thumping.

Then the noise stopped. Phoenix opened his mouth to say something when the noise started up again. Then more silence, then the thumping repeated.

‘It’s the same sequence,’ whispered Jazz urgently. ‘Several groups of thumps with a short pause between each one, then a long pause and it starts again.’

As it started up a fourth time, Jazz stepped up to the front door. She heard five muffled thumps, and pressed ‘5’ on the keypad. She carried on until she had entered a four-digit code. The door didn’t open.

‘Try it again,’ said Phoenix, catching on. ‘I’ll help you count.’ They waited until the thumps began again.

Once more, they counted five.

‘Seven,’ said Phoenix, ‘then . . . 9.’

The last number was ‘1’. The keypad lit up green.

Phoenix tried to push the door open. It would only go halfway. ‘There’s something blocking it,’ he said, puzzled. Cautiously, he stepped inside, Jazz following.

They both stopped in shock. Lying on the floor behind the door was a man, bound and gagged. His eyes were desperate as he peered up at them. It was Dr Zhang.

02:15

Phoenix slammed the door closed and locked it. Immediately Jazz fell on her knees beside the bound man. He rolled over so that she could get at the back of his head where the gag was knotted. The older man was grimy with dust and dried blood. He had a large bruise on his head and his wrists and ankles were rubbed raw from his attempts to free himself.

Phoenix ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. He skidded over to the struggling Dr Zhang and started cutting through the ropes.

‘Thank goodness,’ Dr Zhang almost sobbed as the gag came off. ‘I’d nearly given up hope. Please, a phone. I need to call my wife. She must be so worried.’

Shocked at the state of her friend’s father, Jazz fumbled for her mobile. She was about to pass it to Dr Zhang when Phoenix stopped her.

‘No,’ he said, regarding the man with suspicion. ‘Not until we hear his story.’

‘You’re paranoid!’ Jazz said. ‘He was bound and gagged! What more proof do you need?’

‘I need to hear what his role in all this is. What if you give him the phone and he calls Sammy or Delgado?’

Jazz was about to protest some more when she remembered that Phoenix’s life had been in danger less than twelve hours before. She nodded to Phoenix and turned to Dr Zhang. ‘I’m sorry, but Phoenix is right. You need to tell us what’s going on before we can trust you.’

The man slumped, looking exhausted. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘But can I at least clean up a bit first? Use the toilet?’

‘Of course you can. Just . . . be quick. We need to get out of here.’ Jazz paused before adding, ‘I’ll send Mack a text, to let her know you are OK.’

Dr Zhang nodded his thanks and slowly limped towards the bathroom. Watching the man like a hawk, Phoenix followed him and stood outside the door.

Jazz sent the text. Then she took a look around the apartment. The living room was spacious with a polished wooden floor. Creamy leather lounges were positioned around a Persian rug in the centre of the room. The two front walls were almost entirely made of glass. Through them, Jazz could see Toby Grimshaw’s new rooftop garden and the glittering harbour waters beyond. Opulent chandeliers hung from a ceiling that had been painted to a pale sky blue. The apartment seemed almost to be floating above the sea in its own little world.

On a long marble table at the other end of the room, a large crystal swan made a graceful centrepiece. What looked like ancient weaponry from around the world decorated the wall behind it. There were painted wooden shields, long-faced masks and dangerous-looking spears.

Jazz’s gaze travelled once more around the room, stopping suddenly to rest on a marble statue near one of the lounges. Her eyes widened; her jaw dropped. The statue seemed to dominate the whole space. Jazz let out a gasp. ‘Look! The Medusa!’

Sure enough, there stood the Grimshaw Medusa. Facing one of the glass walls, the statue stared out at a glistening plunge pool in the centre of the garden.

‘B-but,’ stammered Jazz.

‘If there’s one here,’ said Phoenix, coming up beside her, ‘and the one at the museum was smashed—’

‘Then which one’s real?’ finished Jazz.

‘Remember Sir Robert’s reaction when he climbed up to look at the Medusa at the museum?’

Jazz nodded. ‘He saw something then that told him it wasn’t the real deal. After all, he’d know the statue better than anyone.’

‘Let’s find out if this one’s real,’ said Phoenix. He pulled his laptop from his backpack, opened it up and connected the small laser scanner. Dragging one of Toby Grimshaw’s luxury dining chairs over to the statue, he climbed up and flicked on the scanner. A red beam of light appeared across the Medusa. Holding the scanner very level, Phoenix carefully scanned from top to bottom, Jazz watching the laptop screen as the 3D image slowly appeared.

He climbed down off the chair and set his laptop on one of the leather lounges. A split screen showed the Medusa that Phoenix had just scanned next to the scan he’d taken at the museum. ‘Because these are both high-res scans I can do a much better comparison than with the Pan statues,’ he said. He selected the ‘compare’ option and set it to run. The program lay one image over the other, analysing each angle and curve to determine points of difference.

Phoenix used the mouse to draw around one of the points and dragged the isolated section into a new window. He separated out the two images and zoomed in.

‘See this chipped-off section here?’ he said. ‘The one on the left is the Medusa at the museum. The one on the right is the statue here in front of us. It’s been weathered naturally by the elements. The other has been chipped away by a modern tool to make it look old.’

Jazz shook her head in disbelief. ‘So Toby Grimshaw stole a priceless statue from his own father. It was too big for the scanners and printers at Kendricks, so he shipped it to France for his friend Camille Wolf-Ferrari to copy by hand. He sent the copy on to the museum and brought the original here. Toby didn’t want to sell or loan the Medusa, he just wanted to get one up on his dad. Talk about father-son rivalry.’

Phoenix was still comparing the two scans. ‘Wolf-Ferrari must have used a polymer that matched the look and feel of marble. She did a poor job when she didn’t match the weight though. That’s why the broken pieces of the copy that hit Sir Robert felt light when I moved them. He’s lucky it was a fake. The real thing might have killed him.’

Jazz nodded. ‘No wonder Sir Robert was so shocked when he looked at the Medusa in the Velocity wing. She’s been on the Grimshaw estate all his life. He would know that face like the back of his hand! Every line, every bit of discolouration, every tiny detail!’

‘He looked at her face and knew straightaway that it wasn’t his Medusa!’

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, stunned by the boldness of Toby’s actions.

Then the bathroom door opened and Dr Zhang came back into the room. He sank into one of the luxurious couches, rubbing his wrists and ankles as Jazz went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. Dr Zhang took the drink gratefully and gulped it down.

‘OK,’ said Phoenix. ‘Let’s go. You can tell us your story on the way.’

Dr Zhang surprised them both by shaking his head. ‘I can’t leave. I can’t leave until I know my family is safe. Toby has threatened to hurt them if I don’t cooperate. My wife, Mack and Cooper—they won’t be safe unless I can convince Sir Robert to give me the FTTS laser frequencies.’

Jazz thought quickly. ‘Let’s call the police now then. Make sure they protect your family.’

But the older man wasn’t convinced. He shook his head slowly. ‘No, you don’t understand. They could be watching this apartment, your phones could be bugged. I-I can’t put you in danger, too. You must leave, both of you, and go to the police in person. If Toby comes back and finds you here . . .’ he trailed off.

Phoenix stared at him coldly. ‘You don’t care about Jazz and me. You just want us gone so you can run away. We’ve been to Kendricks. We know you’ve been copying antiquities to sell on the black market. Now things are starting to get rough, you want out, don’t you?’

Dr Zhang hung his head and covered his face with his hands. ‘I know it looks bad, but I’m innocent, I swear. I can explain everything.’

Jazz sat stubbornly on the lounge next to him. ‘Good. We won’t leave until you do.’

Dr Zhang gave in. ‘Alright. You know the Velocity wing went way over budget. To cover the extra cost, the museum needed to double its profits. So I had an idea to create copies of artefacts that were so much like the originals, they could be lent out, or sold to collectors. I’ve spent years working to prevent the black-market sale of antiquities. But demand is so high that criminals think it’s worth the risk to steal and sell the items, often by pretending to be a legitimate dealer. If an established museum gave these collectors the opportunity to buy or borrow replicas that looked authentic enough to be mistaken for the real thing, then maybe the collectors would stop buying the real thing from criminals.’

‘And you used 3D printing to make these copies?’ Phoenix asked.

‘Yes, I invested what remained of my own personal savings with Sir Robert who believed the idea could work. Using Sapphire, he developed specialised 3D printing and scanning technology for ancient sculptures and artefacts. In return for my investment, he gave me the patent on that technology. The plan was to launch the “authentic replicas” at the exhibition opening. Each replica would have a certificate to prove it was an exact copy of the original. Only Sir Robert and I knew about it. I didn’t even tell my family.’

‘Is that why you hid the ledger recording the loans of these replicas?’ Jazz asked, checking his story against their evidence.

‘How did you know about that?’ Dr Zhang was momentarily taken aback.

‘We found it while we were looking for you,’ Phoenix replied bluntly. He motioned for the man to continue.

Dr Zhang took a sip of water. ‘Well, the replicas we loaned out were the prototypes produced by Sir Robert in the UK. His son, Toby, arrived to discuss the upcoming exhibition when I was noting the return of one of the prototypes in the ledger.’

‘So you told Toby Grimshaw what was going on, but not your own family?’ Jazz asked.

‘I had no choice. He’d seen the copy of a valuable Pan statue alongside the original piece. He accused me of forgery, so I had to explain. Besides, his father was already involved. At first, Toby was surprisingly helpful. All of my clients were from the Asia-Pacific region, but he put me in touch with Camille, a collector in Europe. And Toby had business contacts at a local 3D printing company. He recruited a security guard from there to work shifts at the museum and assist in secure transport of the artefacts.’

‘Real secure with Sammy in charge,’ Phoenix said sarcastically, shaking his head.

Dr Zhang looked distressed. ‘You have to believe me. I thought Toby was like his father, a genuine art lover who would treat the artefacts as carefully as I would. I bitterly regret involving him and Sammy now. I should have been more open with my family and the museum staff. But the truth is, I was ashamed. By this time I not only needed money to pay for the Velocity wing, I also needed money to help pay for the medical care my wife needed. She was too sick to work, and we were starting to struggle. With Toby speeding things along, I could sell and loan out the authenticated replicas much sooner. The first few times, I supervised while Toby and Sammy transported the originals out of the museum and into Kendricks. I watched while the copies were made and signed certificates of authenticity. I made sure the originals were returned and carefully controlled any loans. Early on, Toby offered to look after this aspect of the business, and I refused. But as the date of the exhibition opening approached, the preparations were making more and more demands on my time. When Toby offered his help again, I accepted.’

Dr Zhang closed his eyes momentarily, as if summoning the strength to go on with his confession. ‘Then the scheme started working too well. Demand for the copies skyrocketed. Soon we were making much more money than I’d anticipated. That’s when I started to get very worried. I turned up to Kendricks one day to find Sammy copying artworks on loan to us for the exhibition, not just the ones I’d authorised from the museum’s permanent collection. And if that wasn’t enough, they were making far too many copies and selling them, too. I tried to regain control, but Toby refused to cooperate. He threatened to convince Sir Robert to cancel the exhibition if I took any legal action.’

He paused, suddenly looking very frail and tired. For a moment Jazz worried that he might collapse completely. But he shifted in his chair and continued. ‘Eventually, enough was enough. I told Toby his services were no longer required. That’s when I found out there was even more at stake. Toby revealed that all the money he’d brought in was gone. He’d frittered away most of it at the casino. I dug a little deeper and discovered that he’d had massive gambling debts even before we went into business together. But Toby had a solution, of course: Pablo Delgado. He told me Delgado had heard about Sir Robert’s supercomputer and his plans to exhibit it at my museum. He wanted to borrow it. Just for a few days. And in return, he would take care of Toby’s gambling debts and donate enough money to the museum for me to pay off the loan for the Velocity wing. But I knew a bribe when I saw one. I refused.’

Suddenly there came the soft ping of a message alert, Jazz and Phoenix looked at each other in surprise and checked their phones.

‘It’s Mike,’ Phoenix said. ‘He wants to know how much longer we’ll take because the concierge has asked him to move on.’

‘Tell him we we’ll be there soon,’ Jazz said. ‘And that we’ve found Dr Zhang. Ask him to give the police a call, get him to ask for Detective Sheppard.’

They were interrupted by another ping.

‘Mike has to leave. He’s just going to drive around the block and then he’ll pick us up on the way back.’

‘Hang on. Just one more thing. Dr Zhang, did you know that Delgado owns Kendricks? Or that Camille Wolf-Ferrari was involved in art forgery and the black market?’

Dr Zhang laughed bitterly. ‘No. I didn’t. But it makes sense. Toby’s story about suddenly meeting Delgado and his offer . . . well, it was all just a little too convenient. They must have been working together from the beginning, waiting for Sapphire to arrive, planting one of their own on my security team. I guess they saw my replication business as a way to get the real artefacts out of the museum and into their hands. The amount of money those European collectors were paying . . . Camille must have been selling the originals as well as the copies, laundering the dirty money through my business. I should have known better. But, I swear, it wasn’t until Friday night when Delgado phoned me, threatening to hurt my family if I didn’t help steal Sapphire, that I realised how terribly deep a hole I had dug for myself.’

Jazz and Phoenix glanced at each other. They’d heard that phone call.

‘I wanted nothing more to do with him or Toby. I was in a daze. Delgado, he had—’ Dr Zhang faltered again, then continued as if in a trance. ‘He had threatened my family and ruined my museum. What could I do? I left the museum, resolving to go home, collect my family and go straight to the police. But Toby was waiting for me, parked right outside the entrance. He pulled me into his sports car and drove around to the secret storage area underneath the museum. He and Sammy tied me up and locked me in the boot of an older car I’d never seen before. Sammy left and then a short time later Toby got a phone call. Next thing I knew, the car smashed through the Velocity wing and Sapphire was in the boot with me. I’ve been at Toby and Delgado’s mercy ever since. I’m the only one who knows enough to expose them.’

Dr Zhang looked up at Jazz and Phoenix. ‘Tell me, have the police found anything, do they know where Sapphire is? Delgado plans to leave with it tonight.’

Jazz and Phoenix could only shake their heads. Dr Zhang slumped back. He looked completely defeated.

They were startled by a loud knock. Jazz and Phoenix jumped up in alarm as they heard someone punching in the entrance code to unlock the front door.

‘Toby,’ came a crisp English voice. ‘It’s your father. I’m coming in.’

The door clicked open and Sir Robert, looking a little worse for wear with a prominent bandage on his head, strode into the room.

Seeing the assembled group, he stopped, startled. Jazz, Phoenix and Dr Zhang stared at him in return.

‘Sir Robert!’ Dr Zhang said, standing up shakily. ‘I’m so relieved to see you.’

‘I can’t say the feeling is mutual,’ replied Sir Robert drily. His expression turned stony. ‘Apparently you were supposed to be guarding my prototype supercomputer, which, I’m sure you’re aware, is now missing. I presume you’ve sold it to some villain for a very high price.’

‘No, wait,’ Jazz intervened, ‘Dr Zhang was kidnapped. He didn’t steal Sapphire, he—’

But the billionaire wasn’t interested. He turned on her, eyes flashing with anger. ‘Stay out of this. Unless you and your boyfriend are part of the plot, too? Distracting me so Zhang could break into his own museum and steal my creation?’

Jazz backed away, shaking her head, but Dr Zhang came to her defence, weak as he was. ‘Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this!’

Phoenix’s phone rang, interrupting the warring parties. ‘Mike?’ He frowned. ‘I can’t hear, hang on.’

Sir Robert’s voice was getting louder as he tried to talk over Dr Zhang’s protests of innocence and explanation. ‘Why should I believe a word you—’

‘Quiet!’ Phoenix’s voice was commanding as it pierced through the noise of the argument. For a moment, Jazz was reminded of Phoenix’s own influential father. The other two men seemed to notice something too because they stopped arguing.

Mike’s voice, urgent and panicky, could be heard in the sudden silence. ‘You guys are about to have company. Toby Grimshaw just drove past in his fancy car. Delgado’s with him. I think they’re heading straight back to the apartment!’

01:02

Jazz snatched the phone from Phoenix and spoke into it urgently. ‘Mike! Dr Zhang can’t run. We need time to get him out of here. Try and distract Delgado. And call the police!’

‘On it,’ Mike promised. Still anxious, Jazz handed the phone back to Phoenix.

Sir Robert looked outraged. ‘Delgado?! What’s he got to do with this? Who do you kids think you are, calling the police to my son’s apartment? Are you trying to implicate him in your vile plot?’

‘There’s no time to explain. I’m sorry, Sir Robert, but we really do have to leave now,’ Jazz urged.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ the billionaire snapped. ‘I’m calling my lawyer. I suggest you do the same.’ As he regarded Jazz, Phoenix and Dr Zhang with contempt, he caught sight of the tall marble statue of the Medusa. ‘Why, the little—’ He marched over, circling the statue, barely able to contain his disgust. ‘That boy has some explaining to do!’ With that, he left the room, and went into the penthouse study, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dr Zhang turned to Jazz. ‘Sir Robert won’t listen to me. He doesn’t believe his son would get involved with Delgado. I know Delgado will stop at nothing to get Sapphire’s access frequencies. So if he finds Sir Robert here . . . we’ll all be in terrible danger.’

Jazz could see there was no point talking to Sir Robert while he was in a fury. So she crossed the room, kicked aside the the ropes that had kept her best friend’s dad a prisoner and opened the front door. She addressed Dr Zhang. ‘Let’s at least get you out of here. The police will be on their way. They can take care of the rest.’

Phoenix didn’t move to follow her. He was standing where she left him, jaw set, frowning. ‘You don’t know that for sure, Jazz. What if the police don’t believe Mike right away? By the time he convinces them he’s for real, it could be too late. We can’t rescue Dr Zhang and leave Sir Robert here alone.’ He looked pointedly at the mess of rope on the floor near Jazz’s feet.

Jazz’s heart sank; he was right. Then she rallied, ‘OK, Phoenix, you and I will stay behind to protect Sir Robert. Dr Zhang, you leave while there’s still time!’

‘No,’ he replied. ‘This is all my fault. I can’t run away like a coward and leave you here to face these men. You two go. I’ll try and stall them.’

Jazz protested. ‘But what about your family, they—’

‘They’d never understand if I left you behind. I’m staying.’ His voice was firm.

Phoenix pushed the front door closed. ‘We’re all staying,’ he said. ‘If Delgado wants Sir Robert, he’ll have to face all of us first.’

‘And get through this door,’ Jazz added. ‘Let’s try and block it. We’ve got to hold them off until the police come!’

Phoenix, Jazz and Dr Zhang worked to push the heavy leather lounges against the door to the penthouse. Then they put the dining chairs, a coffee table and a heavy carved chest on top to weigh the lounges down. Soon the area behind the door with its piled-up furniture resembled the back wall of a junk shop.

They stood back and examined their handiwork.

Phoenix shook his head. ‘It’ll slow them down, but it won’t stop them.’

Dr Zhang hadn’t given up trying to keep Jazz and Phoenix from the action. ‘Toby and Delgado may not even know you kids are here. In case this barrier doesn’t hold, you two had better hide outside in the garden. I’m going to try and talk sense into Sir Robert. If the police don’t make it here in time, at least you’ll both be safe.’ He turned and went into the study without waiting for their reply.

Jazz and Phoenix shared a glance, both thinking the same thing. They weren’t kids. They weren’t going to hide while Sir Robert and Dr Zhang were attacked.

Jazz pointed to the ancient weapons decorating the far wall. ‘Maybe we could arm ourselves in case they break through our barrier.’

The two of them raced over to yank some of the spears and shields from their fittings.

Jazz examined one. ‘It’s a fake,’ she said, ‘but it looks realistic enough. If we can fool Toby and Delgado, maybe they’ll back off.’

The weapons and shields were made of a strong, lightweight plastic painted to resemble timber and bronze. The spears had wicked-looking points though with backwards-pointing barbs.

Another message arrived from Mike. Phoenix checked it. ‘Delgado and Toby are in the lift,’ he reported grimly.

Jazz ran to the study. ‘Hey!’ she shouted, banging on the closed door. ‘They’ll be here any minute!’

The door opened and Dr Zhang hobbled out. Phoenix tossed him one of the fake spears. Despite his earlier weakness, he caught it easily. Surprised at how light it was, he looked closer at the spear. He snorted in amusement as he realised it was a fake, but he held it at the ready. ‘Well, at least we look prepared to fight,’ he smiled wryly.

‘Sir Robert?’ Phoenix asked.

‘Still talking to his lawyer,’ Dr Zhang answered. ‘I tried to interrupt, but he wouldn’t listen. I just hope, for his sake, that he stays in there until the police arrive . . . if they arrive.’

Meanwhile, Jazz had picked up the heavy crystal swan and placed it on the floor next to her, standing by and ready for use against anyone who dared to crash through the obstacle course at the door. Footsteps echoing outside in the private marble foyer galvanised the three defenders. Phoenix pressed his weight against the coffee table on one side of the door while Jazz and Dr Zhang pushed against a lounge. Jazz prayed for the police to arrive—fast!

They froze as they heard the entrance code being entered on the keypad. And then the swearing began outside as Delgado and Grimshaw realised they couldn’t open the penthouse door.

‘The doorway’s blocked! Come on, Grimshaw. Put your shoulder into it!’ Delgado ordered outside. ‘Push man, push!’

They could hear Toby muttering to Delgado. ‘Our friend . . . must have . . . gotten free . . . somehow,’ he was saying between shoves. Then he raised his voice to a shout, ‘Give it up, Zhang! You should’ve escaped while you had the chance!’

They could hear the grunts and curses as the two men outside the apartment used their combined strength on the door. Dr Zhang, Jazz and Phoenix pressed as hard as they could against the barrier. Then, in dismay, they watched as the door slowly started to open. Delgado had ripped one of the abstract steel sculptures off a wall in the foyer. He was wedging it in the gap like a lever, leaning his whole body against the sculpture to pry the door open further.

Bit by bit, their makeshift barrier was forced further into the apartment, getting dangerously close to the Medusa who continued to gaze resolutely out at the plunge pool. The swearing outside the door had become louder and angrier.

Finally, with one huge surge, the door opened. The furniture barricade tumbled, chests and chairs thudding near the priceless marble statue, which shifted alarmingly on its plinth. Toby Grimshaw almost fell into the room. Delgado, following close behind, shoved him.

‘Not another step!’ Phoenix yelled. He lunged in the intruders’ direction with his spear, but still keeping his distance. Jazz and Dr Zhang followed suit.

Surprised, the two men stepped back. Then Delgado narrowed his eyes and glared at Phoenix. ‘You again. Get out of the way, it’s Zhang we want.’ He was still holding the steel sculpture. Brandishing it like a weapon, he advanced on the group.

Jazz knew their fake plastic spears weren’t going to cut it. So she dropped hers and lifted up the crystal swan. Holding it in front of her body, she rushed at Delgado, smashing the heavy ornament into the steel sculpture, driving Delgado back into Toby and sending both of them sprawling across the polished wooden floor until they crashed into the marble table. In all the confusion, it was hard to see who had the winning hand. Broken pieces of crystal spread across the floor like huge diamonds.

That’s when Delgado’s voice cut through the yells and curses. ‘Hands up! All of you! You too, Grimshaw!’

‘Look out!’ cried Phoenix, dropping his spear to put his hands in the air. ‘He’s got a gun!’ He was aware of Dr Zhang doing the same thing out of the corner of his eye.

‘Wha-what are you doing?’ cried Toby, climbing to his feet and brushing bits of sharp crystal off his shoulders.

Jazz found she couldn’t take her eyes off the ugly pistol. Slowly she raised her arms, aware of how they trembled. One of her hands was bleeding, cut by a crystal shard from the shattered swan. Fear drained the strength from her legs. What Dr Zhang had said was true. Delgado would go to any lengths to get what he wanted, even if that meant shooting all of them . . .

Toby was also bleeding. But he slowly raised his hands.

‘Don’t even think about giving me any trouble,’ sneered Delgado. ‘Toby, do what I say. First, deal with Zhang and those two,’ he spat in Jazz and Phoenix’s direction.

With the weapon trained on them, Delgado walked sideways to pick up the ropes that had been used to tie up Dr Zhang. He threw them at Toby. ‘Here, tie them up. Then you can give me what I came here for.’

Toby looked offended. It looked like he was about to protest. But Delgado was having none of it.

‘Do it!’ he commanded. ‘Your debt is only half paid off. And I won’t finish paying it off unless you do exactly what I say. Work for a living or die. Those are your choices, rich boy. Now get moving, I have a ship to catch.’

Face hard, Toby took a length of rope and walked purposefully towards Phoenix in the centre of the room.

Phoenix made his hands into fists and got into a boxing stance. ‘Get back!’ he yelled.

Toby hesitated, the ropes hanging from his hands. Delgado strode towards Phoenix and pushed the nose of the gun hard into his chest. His voice was terrifyingly calm. ‘It’s better if you cooperate.’

Behind Delgado, Jazz slowly picked up a spear from the floor. She nodded at Phoenix who dropped suddenly into a crouch and rolled away from the two men. In one swift move, she jabbed Delgado hard with the spear’s plastic tip, trying to knock the pistol from his grip. The entrepreneur yelped in pain and fury, but he didn’t drop the gun. Instead he swung round to level it at Dr Zhang who was standing further back, near one of the glass walls. His face was white, and he still had his hands up.

‘No!’ screamed Jazz. At the same moment, Sir Robert burst out of the study. With a shock of surprise, Phoenix recognised what gleamed in his hands: FTTS, the Frequency Tripled Titanium Sapphire laser. Sir Robert was holding the laser out in front of him, like a weapon.

Delgado looked stunned. ‘How did you get here?’ he demanded. ‘How did you find that?’

‘It is mine,’ replied Sir Robert with a chuckle. ‘Did you think it was yours? Are you worried it will threaten your little business enterprise?’

‘Little?’ echoed Delgado. ‘Pah. My software controls thousands of companies around the globe.’

‘Your software hacks into computer systems to mine for data and sell it to the highest bidder,’ countered Sir Robert. ‘Sapphire will stop all that. Something that scares you so much you are prepared to steal and kill for it.’

Toby Grimshaw’s mouth opened and shut like a goldfish at the appearance of Sir Robert. Finally he managed to gasp, ‘Father!’

‘Hello, son,’ replied Sir Robert, his clipped accent almost spitting out the last word.

‘I thought you were . . .’ spluttered Toby.

‘Dying? In a coma? Thank you so much for your concern. I was sorry not to have you there, holding my hand as I woke up this morning. Perhaps you were put off by the heavy police presence protecting me from certain undesirables.’ Here he aimed FTTS towards Delgado, who hesitated, unsure, still pointing the gun at Dr Zhang.

‘Put the weapon down, Delgado, or I’ll melt you with this laser!’ said Sir Robert. His voice became low and menacing. ‘Doctor Zhang and these two young people have been trying to tell me about your absurd shenanigans. So absurd that I didn’t believe them until you turned up here!’ He smiled apologetically. ‘I should warn you, Delgado, in case you think you’ll shoot me first, that this laser has a hair-trigger and is tuned to its most powerful setting. If I were to be hit by a bullet, the jolt could set it off. It’s not pleasant being hit with something almost as hot as the surface of the sun. Horrible to watch, too, as someone fizzes into a nasty mess on the floor.’

Moving closer to Dr Zhang, Delgado sneered in disbelief. ‘Put the toy away, old man,’ he said, calling Sir Robert’s bluff.

Sir Robert pushed a button on FTTS, and the sleek device lit up, the jewel-like buttons glowing with hot white light. Jazz flinched as a high-pitched whine filled the room, but Sir Robert was steady as he held Delgado’s gaze. ‘I’m not bluffing. And this is no toy. Next time I push this button, you will die.’

Delgado’s eyes widened in shock and he froze, back against the glass wall. Slowly, he lowered the gun. ‘Don’t think this is the end of it,’ he hissed, eyes darting around, face twisting with hatred. ‘I own Sapphire. And I will get those activation frequencies.’

Then, without warning, Delgado threw the gun at Sir Robert’s wounded head. As it struck, Sir Robert staggered back and Delgado used the distraction to make a dash across the room towards the front door.

‘He’s getting away!’ Jazz cried. ‘Don’t let him go!’ Desperately, she threw one of the plastic shields. Spinning like a Frisbee, it flew straight at the villain.

Twisting to avoid it, Delgado snagged his foot in the leg of an upturned chair, sending him tumbling to the floor below the Medusa statue.

In the sudden confusion, Toby Grimshaw decided to run for it too. In his haste, he slipped on the remains of the shattered swan and tripped on the rumpled Persian rug. He put a hand out to steady his fall, but only managed to push the carved chest into the base of the Medusa.

All eyes rose to the enormous figure. Unbalanced, it wobbled and started to tilt, its immense weight propelling it towards the ground. Delgado, still tangled in a mess of chairs, tried desperately to move out of the way. But the statue toppled relentlessly, coming down with an almighty thud, silencing forever his agonised cry of ‘Nooooooo!’

The curse of the Medusa had claimed another victim.

00:18

Standing still, as if Medusa had petrified them as she fell, they barely had time to register what had happened before the police stormed into the penthouse. Detective Jan Sheppard was amongst them. She supervised as her officers cuffed Toby Grimshaw and led him out to the private foyer. He hung his head, unable to meet his father’s gaze. Sir Robert maintained a steely composure as he watched his son step into the elevator.

‘Wait here, please,’ Detective Sheppard told Jazz and Phoenix after checking that they were unharmed. Obediently, they sat down on one of the lounges and watched as she spoke with Dr Zhang. She led him out into the penthouse foyer where a medic was waiting to check him over.

Jazz noticed Mike out there, too, standing to one side of two police officers who were deep in discussion. Mike looked like he’d been running. Jazz waved for him to come in. He gave her a small smile and had a brief word with the officer closest to him in the lobby. Wearily, the man nodded his permission for Mike to enter the apartment.

‘Mate!’ Phoenix exclaimed as Mike joined them. He clapped him on the back. ‘The police got here just in time. I was freaking out, thinking they wouldn’t believe you.’

‘I was worried too,’ said Mike. ‘But then I got through to Detective Sheppard who had been following the same leads we had, so she knew I wasn’t pulling a prank. She told me to sit tight, that her team was on the way.’

‘What about Delgado?’ Phoenix asked.

‘I tried to distract him, like you said, but it didn’t work for very long. I think he suspected something was up. So I just went back to my car and waited for the police. When they got here, I showed them where the elevator was and then ran up the fire escape. I didn’t want to miss it all.’ He flashed Jazz a grin. ‘Are you guys OK?’

‘We’re fine,’ said Jazz. ‘A little shaken up. It got a bit hairy for a while there.’ She glanced over to where Sir Robert was sinking onto a lounge.

For the first time he showed signs of the effects of his injury, wincing as he gingerly felt the bandage on his head.

‘Are you OK, Sir Robert?’ Phoenix asked.

He looked up at the three teenagers. ‘Yes. I’ll be fine. But I want to thank you all for your courage and your quick thinking. I apologise for doubting you. I thought you were trying to frame Toby. The last thing I could remember from the museum is ordering you two to find Zhang. In my mind, somehow, I linked that to my injury and the theft. I was a fool.’

‘You don’t need to apologise,’ Jazz said quickly. ‘You’d just come out of hospital. You were standing up for your son. Of course you would be suspicious of us.’

‘At least we still have the FTTS,’ offered Phoenix. ‘That’s something.’

Sir Robert shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. ‘It’s a replica,’ he said. ‘Something I’d sent to my dear son to try to pique his interest in what I was working on. I couldn’t melt butter with it. All I did was switch it on. It’s designed to produce a light show and make that sound you heard as it loads. My little joke—scientists like to have fun sometimes.’

‘So you knew it was here, in the apartment?’ asked Jazz.

‘I didn’t, but after Dr Zhang came to tell me Delgado was on his way, I ended the call with my lawyer and searched the room, looking for evidence that my son was not involved. When I found the FTTS replica I thought I could use it to bluff Delgado until the officers arrived.’

‘It sure worked,’ said Phoenix. ‘I guess sometimes fakes are as useful as the real thing.’ He looked over at where Delgado’s legs were protruding from underneath the statue.

Jazz followed his gaze and shivered. The real Grimshaw Medusa was bloodied, but intact. Police and forensic experts were swarming all around the statue and the body. It was all so eerily similar to the shocking scene that had set off the whole investigation almost 48 HOURS before. But this time, the cursed statue’s victim had not survived the encounter.

Forty-eight hours! Jazz realised. The deadline was almost up! And while they’d rescued Dr Zhang and thwarted Delgado, they still hadn’t found Sapphire. What if Delgado’s shipment was still going ahead?

‘Phoenix!’ she whispered as one of the police officers came over to question Sir Robert. ‘We’ve got to find Sapphire. There’s still a chance that one of Delgado’s black-market contacts will take the supercomputer for themselves now that their boss is out of the picture.’

‘I know,’ Phoenix replied. ‘But how are we going to get out of here? The police are going to want to question us. It could take hours.’

The apartment seemed to be full of people in uniform. There was no way they’d be able to sneak through the front door unnoticed.

‘I wonder,’ said Jazz, arms crossed, thinking. ‘If Delgado suspected something was up, what was he doing here? If he’s got Sapphire, why risk it? He didn’t care about us or Dr Zhang. He wanted Toby to tie us all up . . .’

‘. . . so he could get what he came here for!’ Phoenix finished triumphantly. ‘Jazz! You’re right! Sapphire is somewhere in this apartment! Toby must’ve hidden it here after the ram-raid. Delgado only came back to pick it up.’

‘Right! We have to search the place!’

‘Mike?’ said Jazz. ‘Are you going to help?’

Mike didn’t seem to be listening. He was walking towards the door to the rooftop garden, gaze fixed on the deckchairs by the pool.

‘Mike?’ Jazz called. ‘Mike, what is it?’

He turned back. ‘It’s probably a coincidence, but . . .’

‘But what?’ Jazz prompted.

‘Look at the garden.’

‘It’s lovely, but now isn’t the time to get interested in horticulture.’

‘The ground around the pool,’ Mike persisted. ‘It’s covered in . . .’

‘Artificial grass!’ cried Jazz.

Phoenix smiled, catching on. ‘When Toby took Sapphire from the Velocity wing, he had artificial grass on his shoes.’

‘Maybe Toby had a reason for redesigning his garden!’ said Jazz excitedly. ‘He wasn’t about to just hand everything over to Delgado. He’s a gambler. Sapphire was his trump card!’

They went over and interrupted the officer talking to Sir Robert.

‘Um . . . sorry, but I’m feeling a bit light-headed,’ Jazz said, trying to look faint as Mike helpfully put his arm around her.

Phoenix put on a concerned expression. ‘I think it’s the shock. Can we take her outside for some fresh air?’

‘Of course,’ the officer said. ‘I’ll alert one of the medics.’

‘No!’ Jazz said, a bit quickly. Then she smiled weakly, ‘Sorry, I’ll be fine. I just need a moment away from all the fuss.’

The officer nodded. ‘I understand. Just call out if you need anything.’ She turned her attention back to Sir Robert.

Phoenix walked over and pressed a button on the wall. Glass doors slid open and they stepped out into the jungle of plants.

The three of them immediately got to work searching the garden, pushing aside fallen leaves, peering into fronds and foliage. At first they tried to appear casual in case anyone was looking, but as time went on, their search became increasingly desperate. Their efforts fruitless, they met in the middle and sat dejectedly on the deck chairs surrounding the plunge pool.

‘If you were hiding a priceless piece of technology in a garden, where would you put it?’ Phoenix wondered out loud.

‘Nowhere that I’ve looked,’ Jazz replied. ‘What are we going to do if it’s not here?’

Phoenix gave a weak laugh. ‘Go for a swim?’

Jazz looked more closely at the still water, suddenly remembering that, before it had toppled over, the Grimshaw Medusa’s formidable eyes had been trained on this very pool. ‘Phoenix, maybe that’s not the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.’

She stood up and walked to the wall at the pool’s far end. Swiftly, moving aside some vines, she revealed a handle set subtly in stone. ‘It’s a door!’ She turned the handle, hoping against hope and let out a whoop as the door opened towards her. She held it ajar, staring into the dark space where the pool pump should have been. Mike and Phoenix came over to join her.

Even in the dull light, the radiant blue crystal of Sapphire glimmered.

‘Wow!’ Jazz stepped closer.

‘Yes!’ Phoenix yelled and punched the air.

Mike quietly switched on his phone’s torch and shone it into the tomb-like vault. Sapphire wasn’t alone. In the darkness behind the quantum computer, authentic artefacts from the museum were shrink-wrapped and tagged with a name and address. Each priceless antiquity was waiting, ready to ship to the collectors who had purchased them on the black market and now would never receive them.

CASE SOVLED

Both Dr Zhang and Sir Robert were overjoyed to see Sapphire safely recovered along with the rest of the stolen artefacts. Sammy and Toby were in custody awaiting trial and each day more evidence of Delgado’s criminal activities on the darknet was coming to light.

The police returned Sapphire to Sir Robert just as repairs to the damaged section of the Velocity wing were completed, allowing Dr Zhang to reschedule the exhibition opening. Despite the delay, ticket presales had soared and the additional publicity around the ram-raid led several philanthropists to make generous donations to the Knowledge Institute.

Jazz, Phoenix and Mike arrived together and were welcomed by a jubilant Dr Zhang and a much-recovered Mrs Zhang. On seeing them, Mack flew across the lobby, long black hair streaming behind her. She engulfed Jazz in a massive hug, which soon became a delirious circle as Anika arrived and joined in.

Already in the foyer, small groups of international experts and collectors, mixed with celebrities, were enjoying canapés, their conversations punctuated by bursts of laughter. In the centre of the room, draped in a soft velvet cover, Sapphire stood hidden, waiting for the official unveiling. The real Grimshaw Medusa towered beside it, looking none the worse for wear after her ordeal. In fact, she looked proud and almost serene now in the carefully choreographed museum lighting.

‘Jazz,’ said Mack, ‘my family has a lot to thank you for. In just 48 HOURS you saved my dad, found Sapphire and exposed the criminals. The police told us their ship was due to depart as soon as Delgado arrived with Sapphire. He would have killed Dad or taken him with them. You saved Dad’s life and proved his innocence.’ Mack paused and looked at her hands. ‘I just hope you know how grateful Mum and I are . . . for everything,’ she whispered.

Jazz hugged her. She noticed Phoenix standing to one side, watching the waitstaff moving between the crowds of guests clustered around exhibits.

‘It’s almost as if nothing ever happened,’ Jazz said, going to stand next to him. ‘There are people from all over the world here. Do you think they all know that the exhibition nearly didn’t go ahead?’

‘Probably not. But there are plenty of other people around the world who know the story all too well,’ Phoenix reminded her. ‘The contact details for Toby Grimshaw’s black market buyers on the artefacts we found will go a long way towards putting Camille Wolf-Ferrari and her associates behind bars.’

Detective Jan Sheppard caught Jazz’s eye and raised her glass in a toast. Jazz smiled back. The detective had been amazed when Jazz gave her the physical evidence she and Phoenix had collected along with her entire CrimeSeen case file.

The older woman motioned for Jazz to come over. As she did so, Jan reached into her pocket and held out a business card. ‘You’ll make a great detective one day,’ she said. ‘Keep in touch.’

Jazz took it with pleasure. ‘I will,’ she said. ‘Thank you!’

A sudden hush fell over the crowd as Dr Zhang and Sir Robert walked over to the draped object in the centre of the room. Each man carried a small, wrapped object.

‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to this landmark exhibition, From Ancient Times to Future Worlds,’ Dr Zhang began. ‘I know everyone is dying to see our main attraction, but before we get to that, I want to tell you about an exciting new initiative. Authenticated replicas of some of our most popular exhibits are now available for loan or purchase from the Knowledge Institute.’

A murmur went up around the room as the puzzled guests tried to work out what he meant.

Dr Zhang waited for the talk to die down and then went on. ‘An “authentic replica” sounds contradictory, I know, but it’s actually the product of a revolutionary new process. With the generous assistance of Sir Robert and the power of Sapphire, we have developed a technology that combines 3D printing technology with the mastery of ancient artists. A priceless historical artefact is scanned in a lab and analysed using quantum-hybrid software. The same software prints and finishes an ultra-high resolution replica that matches the original in every precise detail. After it has been double-checked by museum experts, each replica is subtly marked with the museum’s seal and issued with a certificate of authenticity. As an example, let me show you these.’

He unwrapped a small marble statue of Pan and lifted it up for all to view before placing it on a small table near Sapphire’s display case. ‘This original marble statue is nearly two thousand years old—and this—’ Dr Zhang waited as Sir Robert unwrapped the second object and placed it alongside the first.

The audience marvelled at the similarity between the two statues and waited expectantly for Dr Zhang to finish. But instead, Dr Zhang did a double-take, crouched down to examine the two statues and then lifted the first statue once more to check the underside. He straightened up, facing the audience again, looking embarrassed. ‘Actually my one was the replica!’ He gestured to the second marble statue of Pan playing the flute. ‘The statue Sir Robert revealed is, in fact, the genuine article.’

Jazz and Phoenix couldn’t quite join in with the laughter that fluttered around the Velocity wing, knowing what Dr Zhang had suffered to see his idea through. He’d been declared innocent of any wrongdoing, but the police had shut down Kendricks and seized the replicas Toby and Delgado had planned to sell illegally. Dr Zhang was only allowed to keep the prototypes he’d personally overseen and authenticated. Sir Robert felt partially responsible for the trouble his son had caused the museum though, so he had promised to help Dr Zhang find a new 3D printing company.

Dr Zhang watched as two of his assistants moved the table with the statues next to a 3D printing exhibit before continuing. ‘So for those who long for a beautiful piece of antiquity, now there is a satisfying alternative to the black market.’ He straightened his tie and cleared his throat. ‘And finally we come to the highlight of this exhibition: Sapphire, the world’s most powerful computer,’ he announced, removing the velvet covering with a gentle flourish.

At the same time Sir Robert activated FTTS. Cries of excitement went up as the laser switch lit up and began to transmit the frequency sequence to Sapphire.

‘Wow!’ Mack cried as the blue crystal exploded with light. The whole wing seemed to come to life. All of the electronic Future Worlds exhibits switched on simultaneously. A stunned silence and then even louder cries of delight and amazement filled the room as tiny drones hovered and robotic machines began to move. Around the Ancient Times artefacts, holograms of historical figures appeared. Medusa seemed to step out of her statue. A Tasmanian tiger stood next to its skeleton and an ancient Egyptian priestess stood next to her sarcophagus. Someone started to clap. Others joined in and the applause rose in volume. It got louder and louder as the holograms began to roam around the room, giving the guests a feeling that the past and future really had come together in the present.

Finally, Sir Robert raised his arms and the holograms went back to their places. The applause died down. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, ‘I hope you enjoy this glimpse of the future, because it can only be a glimpse at this stage. After this exhibition is over, Sapphire will be moved to a secret location until we can ensure it is not used for evil purposes. Its use will be tightly regulated.’ The audience murmured general agrement. ‘I also want to take this opportunity to thank some very courageous teenagers. Without the intelligence and tenacity of Jazmine Mandell, Phoenix Lyons and their friends, this launch would not have taken place. They prevented a major crime with international repercussions. Please come forward, Jazmine and Phoenix.’

The two of them walked over to join Sir Robert and Dr Zhang. Jazz felt her face going very red as the guests clapped and cheered for them.

* * *

When it came to the end of the night Jazz and Mike walked through the lobby to await their lift home. Mack and Anika were still inside the Velocity wing talking with the last of the guests. Dr Zhang was outside with Phoenix, farewelling Sir Robert.

As Mike followed Jazz outside, the black cat suddenly appeared, running across their path.

‘Bad luck?’ asked Mike.

‘Good luck,’ Jazz replied, watching as the cat made its way to Dr Zhang and twined about his legs. Dr Zhang smiled and bent down to pick it up, stroking the cat gently as he went back inside the museum.

‘You still up for getting breakfast with me sometime?’

Jazz felt a thrill of excitement at the invitation. ‘Sure,’ she said, trying not to sound too eager.

‘But what about him?’ Mike indicated Phoenix who was walking towards them. ‘Isn’t he your boyfriend?’

‘My boyfriend! Phoenix? No way!’ Too late, she realised Phoenix had overheard. He raised an eyebrow.

‘You were saying?’ he asked.

‘Mike asked if you were my boyfriend,’ said Jazz, feeling her face grow hot.

Phoenix gave Mike his most confident smile. ‘Actually, Jazz and I are more than friends. We’re business partners, too, when we’re not arguing.’ He laughed at Mike’s confused expression. ‘Relax, dude. Our partnership is strictly professional.’

Relieved, Jazz decided that Phoenix might actually be OK. ‘Phoenix is right,’ she said to Mike. ‘Business partners. That’s what we are.’

Read more thrilling

48 HOURS crime stories
in these books.

JAZZ AND PHOENIX ONLY HAVE

48 HOURS TO SOLVE THE CRIMES!

Table of Contents

- Publishing Details
- 48 Hours #2: The Medusa Curse
- The Exhibition
- Sapphire and Medusa
- Crash!

- 48:00:00

- 47:59
- 46:39
- 34:30
- 33:18
- 32:02
- 30:27
- 29:40
- 28:21
- 27:59
- 26:28
- 25:03
- 24:11
- 22:15
- 19:54
- 18:53
- 10:24
- 09:40
- 09:02
- 07:03
- 05:00
- 05:08
- 02:55
- 02:15
- 01:02
- 00:18

- 00:00:00

- Case Sovled