Operation Scheherazade
by Sinbad
Chapter 16
The next morning Ricky brought Chris up to date on all the events of the previous evening that he'd missed out on. Once again poor Chris had missed out on the excitement and he had to try hard not to show his disappointment.
The two boys went back to being just schoolboys on holiday. The adventure was over, the message successfully delivered to the King. At lunchtime, Maureen turned up to take them to the pool. Ricky found he had much more fun with Chris for company and they spent a very happy afternoon in and around the big swimming pool. After a particularly energetic spell in the pool they flopped down on towels on the warm stones and just lay there breathing hard for a while.
It was Chris who broke the silence between them. “How did the stalker at Ajlun know you'd be there?”
Ricky thought for a moment.
“That's a good question. It's not a well-known spot and we hadn't told a lot of people where we were going. I can't see how he could have followed us, there were no cars in sight for much of the journey. So someone must have told him where we were planning to go. That's worrying – who could it be?”
“Who knew about it? Your father, his new girlfriend, the two other couples who went with you, who else?”
“Well, no-one, as far as I know. Dad would know better.”
“Well, do you think we should ask him?”
“That might involve telling him the whole story and I've avoided that so far. What do you think?”
“Why haven't you told your Dad? Don't you trust him?”
“Mr Farquharson told me not to tell anyone more than necessary, and particularly said to keep my Dad out of it if I could. So I haven't said anything to him yet.”
“Do you think it's time to tell him?”
“Dunno. I'll think about it.”
Chris changed the subject slightly. “In the meantime, who do you think is the most likely to have told the stalker where you would be?”
Ricky thought, and then replied: “Well it could have been just about anybody. Dad, Maureen, or one of the others. We just don't know. I think I would trust Dad, he would never do anything that could harm me. But any of the others could be the one.”
They lay on their stomachs, feeling the burn of the sun on their backs and legs, glumly. It was a mystery, which should have been exciting. But in books there are always clues to work with, and they had no clue.
The first clue they got was two days later. The day began routinely enough. Maureen picked them up at lunchtime and they spent the afternoon around the pool. Roger joined them later in the afternoon, and drove them home, dropping Maureen off at her lodgings on the way. Ricky had been particularly resentful of the way Maureen seemed to have insinuated herself into his family, and for the trip home he sat himself determinedly in the front seat, although it had become the custom for Maureen to sit in front with his father and the two boys to occupy the back of the car. His father glared at him, well aware of what was going on, but said nothing. Ricky put his towel with his wet trunks rolled in it in the glovebox.
The journey home was rather silent. Chris couldn't think of anything to say to Maureen, and Ricky didn't want to talk to his father. When they pulled up in the driveway at home, they got out of the car and went straight around to the side of the house to the washing line to hang their towels and trunks up to dry. It was then that Ricky remembered he'd left his in the glovebox of the car, and he went back to fetch it. When he pulled the rolled towel out of the cramped space in the glovebox, a sliver of paper came out with it and fluttered to the footwell. Ricky picked it up and read the handwriting on it.
“Thanks for the info. We'll be able to have a man ready when you get there. In case anything goes wrong, try to find out what their plans are for the rest of the holiday. Payment enclosed. K.”
As Ricky digested this his heart began to constrict in his chest. He realised that this was a note from the recipient of the information that had enabled the stalker to track them in Ajlun forest. And it was in his father's glove compartment. His father. His father – the traitor! His eyes watered. Still clutching the scrap of paper he ran away from the car leaving the door open. He didn't stop till he had slammed the door of his bedroom and launched himself onto his bed crying bitterly. And he was still there, his pillow wet with tears, when Chris found him. He came to him and, pulling one shoulder, turned him over, and then, pulling both shoulders, sat him up. Then he sat down beside him and pulled him to himself and hugged him. He held him until Ricky's shoulders stopped shaking and his sobs subsided, and then he asked: “Are you ready to tell me about it?”
Ricky took a few more moments to compose himself and then pulled away from Chris, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. And he told his best friend what he had found. He showed him the paper. And he told him it meant his father must be the traitor. And began crying again.
Chris put one arm around Ricky's shoulders while he read the writing for himself. And after reading it several times he spoke up.
“It's not your father. It can't be.”
“It was in his glove compartment – so it has to be him!”
“No it doesn't. Look what it says: 'try to find what their plans are for the rest of the holiday'. Your father wouldn't have to 'try to find out' your plans – he made the plans with you! For someone to 'try to find out' your plans, they had to be someone else!”
“But who else could have left it in Dad's glovebox?” - and even as he said the words, he knew.
Both boys spoke at once. “Maureen!”
Maureen, who had the use of his father's car in the mornings. Maureen, who had managed to get inside his family, who had stolen the affections of his father, who had betrayed their movements to somebody, or some group, who wished him harm. Chris looked at Ricky in horror. Ricky looked back at Chris.
“What should we do about it?”
“Well, I don't know. There's no danger any more, the message has been given to the King so it's too late for them to try to stop us. Maybe we should tell Mr Fielding? Do you think you should tell your father?”
“I don't want to do that just at the moment. It can wait till it's all out in the open. If I tell him now it'll just seem like sour grapes. He knows I don't like her, but he clearly does.”
“Well we can watch her, now we know she's the traitor. We might find out who she's talked to. Who wrote that note.”
“Come on, you haven't hung your things out to dry, and mine'll be dry by now. Let's go back out to the line.”
They went and attended to the towels, both a little shell-shocked by their discovery. Mohammed called them in for dinner and they washed their hands and joined Roger in the dining room.