Free October by Gabrielle Lord Page A

Boges repeated. ‘We need to talk to the Keeper of Rare Books, find out whether he really has information on the last two lines. Time’s running out, we can’t wait around for answers to fall into our laps.’
    I looked around at the drawings. We’d finally discovered the existence of the Caesar shift—but was that what Dad was trying to tell me about? And Winter had matched the drawing of the little monkey with the painting of the young Queen Elizabeth—but was the Queen what Dad was trying to show us? Or did the monkey have more meaning?
    ‘By the way,’ said Boges. ‘Gabbi told me that they were all going away this morning—Rafe andyour mum have taken her down to Treachery Bay for a couple of days. For a break from the city …’
    ‘Really?’ Immediately I was interested—Rafe’s house was where I’d first seen the scribbled note about the Ormond Riddle. ‘That could be a perfect opportunity,’ I said, ‘for a thorough search of the place. Rafe could have information that we don’t know about. Even Mum might have something incidental of Dad’s that could mean a lot to us.’
    ‘You took the words right out of my mouth. I’m in,’ said Boges. ‘I guessed you might want to check it out, so I already told Gabbi—our new little spy—that we might “pop in” in their absence. She’s so cool,’ he said. ‘Straight away she switched into top-secret mode. She’s left the key out for us and she said she’d turn off the CCTV system and sensor lights. We just need to remember to turn it all back on again before we leave.’
    I grinned. I was so proud of my sister. She was turning into a handy ally.

    Boges and I ducked into the front garden, crept around the side of the house and onto the back patio, where we found the key Gabbi had left usunder the barbecue. The night was dark and an eerie wind was blowing, but knowing the house was empty had made us both pretty relaxed about breaking in.
    Next door’s cat, who’d saved me last time I was here, rubbed our legs as we unlocked the back door.
    I was ready. We were looking for anything—anything at all—that might give us more information about the DMO, and even if we didn’t find anything, we’d at least be sure that we’d eliminated every possibility from the ‘home’ quarter.
    We stepped through the double doors with torches that we kept low, directed to the floor. I hesitated once I stepped inside. A lamp had been left on and, somewhere, a radio chattered softly. Mum had always done that when we went away, to make it seem like the house wasn’t empty.
    ‘What is it?’ Boges asked.
    ‘Not sure,’ I said, slowly walking into the living area. ‘I can smell Mum’s perfume, I think.’ I spotted some familiar cushions and a rug from our old house. ‘Maybe it’s just Mum’s stuff.’
    The scent of perfume got to me. It was making my chest ache, reminding me of happy, easy times. Times when I felt safe.
    ‘Sorry, what did you say?’ I asked, realising Boges had asked me something, twice.
    ‘Is that the smell you remembered catching a whiff of?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘The scent you caught a whiff of before you were attacked at the funeral parlour—you said it was a familiar smell.’
    ‘No,’ I said, firmly.
    Boges didn’t look convinced. What was he trying to say?
    ‘It wasn’t this smell, OK?’
    ‘OK. So where should we start? Here in the kitchen?’
    ‘Yep, you give that a go. Remember to check above the fridge, and I’ll try over here,’ I said, moving further into the living area and squatting in front of the low cupboards that ran along the wall, underneath the TV and sound system. ‘Keep a lookout for any unusual documents and any plastic storage bins with red lids, like the one we found in the mausoleum back in January.’

    We worked silently and methodically, carefully going through every shelf at floor level, then standing and searching the mid-section of each room, before reaching up and tackling the high