Clemmy, surrounded by colourful shopping bags, is watching television.
‘I sold the jet,’ she tells us. ‘And bought a few things. I’ll be off to LA tomorrow for some TV work. I’m sure we’ll catch up in one country or another. How’s Isobel?’
Chase and I collapse onto the couch.
‘Kind of okay,’ Chase says. ‘The hospital wants to keep her for another year. But we’re going to take her home.’
‘Good on you.’ Clemmy nods. ‘How will you get her there?’
‘Ship.’ Chase sits up. ‘You don’t get sea-sick, do you, George?’
I’ve never been on a ship. Or a bicycle, skateboard, or roller skates. I did try an eight-wheel safety scooter once, but it seemed to be possessed by the devil.
‘I don’t know, Chase,’ I say. ‘And anyway, how will we find a ship going to where we want to go?’
‘We’ll work that out,’ Chase says. ‘After we’ve met the dog with the dollars at the Williamsburg Bridge.’
‘We should take Amy,’ I suggest. ‘Dogs can communicate with other dogs, as you would expect. I think she’d be a big help.’
Chase and I dress in our darkest clothes, pack Amy in one of Clemmy’s shopping bags, then head out into the cold, siren-filled New York night. Franz hails us a cab and we set off for the Williamsburg Bridge.
‘You ain’t them dopey Aussie bad-boys on TV, are you?’ The blonde driver studies us as she zooms along. ‘Them ones who owe like a billion bucks? Because nasty people is after them for the big reward.’
Oh, dear!
‘Ve’re not dopey Oz-tralians,’ Chase says. ‘Ve’re smart Austrians. Aren’t ve, George?’
‘Oh, ja,’ I say. ‘Ve are Austrians from ze Vienna Boys Choir who sing Gott Bless America every zingle day. And you chapz won ze war fair and zquare. No worriez about zat.’
The lady stops the taxi under a bridge by the river and Chase pays her our last few dollars.
‘Take care now,’ she says, although I’m not sure she means it.
‘Danke, dear.’ Chase shuts the door. ‘Let’s find this dog and get out of here. I’m not sure that old bat bought the Austrian thing. What time is it?’
I hit the button on my watch. ‘Five to ten.’ It occurs to me this is the latest I’ve ever stayed up in my whole life. Wow!
Chase points. ‘There’s the bridge. Stay low, and let’s hope it’s dog-friendly.’
I’m more concerned whether we’re about to meet a friendly dog, but I keep quiet.
We climb up onto the long, dark bridge, and let Amy out of the bag.
‘How will the money-dog know the time, Chase?’ I ask.
‘Don’t ask me.’ Chase shrugs. ‘Even though you just did.’
I see Amy tilt her head to one side and look expectantly up the river. Suddenly a helicopter with a blindingly bright white searchlight sweeps towards us on a hurricane of sound.
‘Behind the pylon, Chase!’ I grab Amy. ‘Get down!’
We huddle as the helicopter hovers. The noise is incredible and the light beam turns everything silver. Then, thankfully, the chopper moves away, and I see a large dog running towards us, like a lone wolf on a Siberian plain. It’s a German shepherd, which is a breed I would normally change suburbs to avoid, but not this time. We call out.
‘Here, doggy! C’mon, feller! Good boy!’
Amy lets go five sharp barks and the big dog runs in right on top of us, wagging its tail and licking our faces. I see it wears a harness with a small backpack.
‘Pat him, George!’ Chase is stuffing bundles of money into Clemmy’s pink shopping bag. ‘Right. I’ve got the dough. Let him go and let’s split!’
I try to send the dog back across the bridge but it’s more interested in playing with Amy.
‘Go, big feller!’ I say. ‘Home!’ I turn to Chase. ‘You don’t have a stick, do you, because dogs—’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Chase says. ‘I’ve got a whole bundle.’ Then he shouts. ‘Of course I don’t have a stick!’
The German shepherd looks downstream, cries once then takes off like a golden streak. Now I see why.
‘The chopper’s coming back!’ I yell. ‘Run!’ And as I’m about to, I accidentally step on the shopping bag and rip a hole in it. Out falls the money.
‘Grab the dough, George!’ Chase grabs four big bundles. ‘Quick!’
I pick up three more, Amy grabs the last by its rubber band, and we sprint towards the road.
‘Go, GP!’ Chase pushes me. ‘Faster, faster. It’s coming!’
The chopper roars in, lighting up the bridge like a tinsel Christmas tree, the three of us running for our lives. With a sinking feeling, I see Amy’s teeth have broken the rubber band around the fat bundle of money, leaving a trail of green notes whirling away like leaves. Oh, that’s not so good, I think. But I keep on running and Chase keeps on yelling.
‘Down the steps, Georgie! Go!’
We make it safely under the bridge and gradually, thankfully, the sound of the helicopter dies away. As we catch our breath I see what appear to be butterflies fluttering into the river. I look down and Amy looks up, wagging her tail, holding one wet hundred-dollar bill.
‘Good dog,’ I say, adding the soggy note to my bundle, and hoping Chase doesn’t notice.
‘What d’you mean, good dog?’ Chase has noticed. ‘She just lost us fifty thousand freakin’ dollars!’
I can see that’s not great news. ‘Um, it’s only money,’ I say. ‘That’s what my dear old dad says.’
‘That’s because he hasn’t got any damn money.’ Chase holds up a hand and a yellow taxi stops. ‘Let’s just go,’ he says tiredly. ‘It’s too dangerous to try and get any of it back now. Come on.’
Another of my dad’s sayings is, Easy come, easy go, but I think I’ll just keep that to myself at this point.