DAY 32: Tuesday
My skims: 0 (Harder than it sounds.)
Wriggler’s skims: 0
Tearley’s skims: 5
Sergeant Tranh’s skims: 5 (Pathetic.)
Constable Stevens’ skims: 7 (Not bad for a first-timer.)
Countdown to tinnie going on eBay: 2 days
Chances of us getting it: 0%
The knock on the front door made the whole house shake. It was 8.00 am. Dad was on his way out to work. He took one look at Sergeant Tranh and called out, ‘Dean, it’s for you.’
Sergeant Tranh looked at Dad and said, ‘Is Dean about nine years old, a hundred and forty-five centimetres tall, and a Caucasian male with a squeaky voice and mousy-brown hair?’
Dad called out, ‘Digs, it’s for you,’ and carried on to his car.
Nine years old? A hundred and forty-five centimetres tall? Tranh’s got to be the least observant cop in the whole of policedom. I am exactly a hundred and fifty-seven point five centimetres tall, which is the exact average height for an eleven-year-old.
As soon as I got to the door, Tranh said, ‘Son, I’ve had fifteen phone calls this morning, all asking about a certain OurTube clip.’
‘YouTube.’
‘Whatever. It’s a very serious offence to obstruct police work.’
‘What do you mean, obstruct? We told you about Mr Black. We showed you the video of the native animals.’
‘Were you aware there was an ongoing investigation into the goings-on at the deserted house?’
‘Is there?’
‘Well, no. But there might have been and that’s my point. If there had been you could have jeopardised the whole operation.’
That was ridiculous. How could I be in trouble for something I had no idea was happening even though it wasn’t?
I must have looked confused because Tranh said, ‘Anyway, we’ll worry about that later. We’ve got to sort this out. Get that Tearle girl and the kid that’s missing the arm to meet us at the river.’
‘Wriggler?’
‘The ginga,’ Tranh said.
‘He’s not missing an arm. It’s broken.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Okay get the ginga with the two arms,’ said Tranh.
I rang Tearley and Wriggler and told them to meet us at the river.
I went in the police car with Tranh and Stevens. On the way to the river Tranh stopped at the police station.
‘Back in a moment,’ he said and he and Stevens raced into the station.
This was the worst thing ever. I could hear Mr Black’s words ringing in my ears. ‘People think, he’s bad, yeah, but you’re not, it just looks like it.’
I had posted something on YouTube saying he was guilty of trafficking animals and now I wasn’t so sure.
Worse still, the police were going to arrest him, and it was my fault. I felt sick in the stomach.
Sergeant Tranh and Constable Stevens came out and got back in the car.
They were no longer in police uniform.
‘Son, it’s important we do not raise suspicion if the male of interest happens to be at the alleged crime site, so Constable Stevens and I have changed into civvies.’
He had on a backwards cap, a hoodie and a pair of low-cut, baggy red jeans. He looked like an idiot. Stevens looked much more normal in a white t-shirt and blue jeans.
‘If anyone asks, Constable Stevens and I are your homies. At all times we must keep in character and not let anyone think we are hiding something. Oh, and I brought some of these in case we need to skim.’
He handed me a bag of the pebbles from the police garden.
He started the car and squealed the tyres. As we drove off he said to Stevens, ‘I love undercover work.’
On the way to the river Tranh said, ‘I can’t believe three hundred and fifty people have watched your clip. I had no idea about it until the Police Commissioner rang this morning and told me to sort it out.’
Three hundred and fifty people. This was getting worse. I’d tried to call Wrigs about a million and seven times the night before, to get him to take the clip off YouTube but he wasn’t home.
Wrigs and Tearley were waiting for us at the top of View Street.
‘W’sup, bro,’ said Tranh and fist-bumped Wrigs.
Then he said, ‘Hey, sis,’ and high-fived Tearley. ‘Have you brought your laptop?’
‘Yes, Sergeant,’ said Tearley.
‘It’s not Sergeant today,’ said Tranh, ‘it’s Tranh-man. Listen up, dudes, and I’ll tell you what’s goin’ down. You’re going to show me the manhole and where you set up the surveillance camera. In case the alleged trafficker is in the vicinity we will maintain the charade of being “homies” who have come to “skim” so as to avoid suspicion. Any questions?’
Any questions? Apart from, was he for real?
‘No, Tranh-man,’ said Tearley.
We walked down the path to the house. We showed Tranh and Stevens the manhole.
‘Are you going to open it?’ asked Wriggler.
‘Not straight away,’ said the Tranh-man. ‘Well, not for two days. We want to catch the alleged trafficker in the vicinity of the animals. If he even thinks we are onto him he will disappear and we won’t have a case.’
‘What’ll be different in two days?’ asked Tearley.
‘It’s not in his interest for the animals to starve, so if he doesn’t return in the next forty-eight hours it means that he has realised we are onto him.’ He looked at me. ‘Probably because of a certain clip.’
‘Well,’ said Tearley, ‘if you’d listened to us in the first place we wouldn’t have made it.’
Wow, Tearley said ‘we’. She hadn’t even wanted to make the clip.
‘But you can make up for it,’ Tranh told us. ‘I need you to work with us. We’d like you to become part of Operation Liberate Reptiles From Under the Deserted House.’
‘Operation Liberate Reptiles From Under the Deserted House?’ said Tearley.
‘Yeah, cool name, isn’t it? I came up with that,’ said Tranh.
‘I thought the point of a codename,’ said Tearley, ‘was to pick a name that wouldn’t tell the bad guys what you’re doing.’
‘Well, yes. But we don’t say which deserted house,’ said Tranh. ‘Okay, are any of you aware of the concept of text-mailing?’
‘Do you do it on the Google-web?’ I asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Constable Stevens let out a short sharp giggle, and then bit her bottom lip.
‘You do it on mobile phones,’ said Tranh.
‘My brother said he did it on SkypeFace,’ I said.
‘I think you mean BookFace,’ said Tranh.
Constable Stevens let out another giggle. Tranh gave her a confused look.
‘Well done, sir, I think you’re right,’ she said and bit her bottom lip again.
Tranh continued. ‘Anyway, as you three are the only people who have actually seen the alleged trafficker, we want you to wait here and engage him. Get him talking, but don’t make him suspicious.’
‘Are we going to wear a wire?’ asked Wriggler.
‘A wire? You mean a microphone strapped to your body? Get a grip, son. This is Pensdale, not Chicago. No, what we need you to do is come here every day. When he turns up, you need to engage him in conversation. While you chat to him, one of you walks away and text-mails me. We will be down here in three minutes flat to catch him in the act. Okay? Understand?’
He handed Wrigs an ancient mobile phone. It was so worn you couldn’t read the numbers on the buttons any more.
‘Now, that’s police property, you need to look after it.’
As we were leaving Tranh said, ‘Let me give you a lesson in skimming.’
He grabbed one of the stones from the bag.
‘It’s all about how you hold it, and about timing the release to maximise the lateral spin before the stone makes contact with the water.’
His stone hit the water and bounced high into the air. It bounced another four times.
‘Oh yeah, go the Tranh-man,’ he shouted.
He punched the air and celebrated like he’d just won Wimbledon.
I couldn’t believe how unco he was. Still, he was so excited I didn’t think I should show him up. I pretended to stuff up my throw and the rock went straight in.
‘Ha,’ said Tranh. ‘You need to work on your action, son.’
Tearley got five on her throw.
‘Good technique,’ said Tranh as though Tearley should thank him for showing her how to skim.
Tranh turned to Constable Stevens. ‘Go on, have a go,’ he said and handed her a rock.
‘I’ve never done it before,’ she said.
‘Go on, we promise not to laugh,’ he said.
Stevens pegged it at the water and it bounced seven times. She blushed.
‘Beginner’s luck,’ said Tranh. ‘I used to get twenty every time before I had this shoulder reconstruction.’
He rotated his shoulder and grimaced like it was hurting him.
When we got back to the police car there was another car parked behind it. There was a man sitting in it. As we approached he got out and started taking photos of us.
‘Which one of you is Digger Field?’ the man called out.
I put my hand up, and he took a photo of me.
Tranh said, ‘Wills, no photos. I told your editor this morning this is the scene of an ongoing investigation.’
Wills ignored Tranh and got back into his car.
‘Who was that?’ said Tearley.
‘Wills is a journalist from the South-West Daily,’ said Tranh. ‘Apparently the editor there has seen your OurTube clip.’