Kensy & Max: Freefall Read online

  ‘So what are the kids at school like?’ Curtis asked.

  Last night the twins had given him a run-down on the way Central London Free School operated – that all of the adults who worked there were spies who had taken on additional roles as teachers or administrative or kitchen and grounds staff, but only a small percentage of the students were trainee agents. That was part of the objective to ensure that no one ever found out about their clandestine life.

  ‘My friend Autumn is super clever and she’s the tidiest person I’ve ever met – we’re polar opposites that way. She is also madly in love with Max and I think he has a crush on her too but he hasn’t realised it yet,’ Kensy teased. ‘And they’d be the perfect couple because he’s as obsessed with neatness as she is. Although I’d pity their children.’

  Max’s cheeks lit up and he jabbed Kensy’s arm. ‘I do not have a crush on Autumn. She’s just a good friend. The way you’re just friends with Carlos – or maybe you’re in love with him.’

  ‘As if,’ Kensy rolled her eyes. ‘That boy is a walking advertisement for cheap cologne. You should probably tell him that less is more. You’d be doing him a favour.’

  Max grinned. He had noticed himself recently that Carlos was a bit heavy handed on the scent – he’d have a word when they caught up. ‘In answer to your question, Curtis, Carlos is heaps of fun and Dante’s great and Alfie too. He’s a bit older than us and he’s huge. Everyone gets along.’

  ‘Except when Misha was pretending to be besties with this girl Lola so she could get to her father – Misha was outstanding at playing the mean girl role but she’s not at all,’ Kensy said. ‘It’s a really good school and the teachers are pretty awesome – although you might find a couple of them a touch scary to begin with.’

  Curtis could feel his stomach churning with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to get started, but then he shouldn’t get ahead of himself either. They were in New York and there was so much to see. What was it his mum always said? You need to live in the moment.

  The foursome tripped down East 63rd Street then turned left onto Park Avenue. The crowds had thinned a little from the lunch rush but it was still bustling. The sounds of the traffic were punctuated by the incessant beeping of horns and shouts from drivers.

  By the time they reached the plaza outside the Rockefeller Centre they were all feeling the effects of the sticky July day.

  ‘It’s hotter here than in Sydney,’ Kensy complained as she felt a trickle of perspiration run down her back.

  Curtis nodded. ‘I definitely think the humidity’s worse.’

  Song found the entrance and ushered the children inside, paying for their tickets before they rode the lift to the first of three viewing decks.

  ‘Wow!’ Kensy, Max and Curtis gasped in unison when they stepped outside.

  ‘You could do some crazy parkour training in this city.’ Max grinned at his sister.

  ‘Parkour?’ Curtis whispered.

  ‘Do not get any silly ideas,’ Song chided. ‘Remember we are here on holidays – and to celebrate with your grandmother – not to test our skills on absurdly tall buildings.’

  ‘Do you have any money, Song?’ Kensy asked the man who passed her a handful of quarters.

  Kensy walked towards one of the coin-operated binoculars and dropped some change into the slot. Then she stood on the platform and fiddled with the focus. The view was breathtaking. She peeked into several office blocks and could see a lady eating a sandwich in a kitchen before she trained the spyglasses on Central Park, spotting the lake first then a horse-drawn carriage with a couple looking very cosy. Max and Curtis had procured some change of their own and the three children were now lined up, scouring the city.

  Song stood next to Curtis, pointing out various landmarks.

  Max trained his binoculars onto the street below them. It was such a melting pot with people from all walks of life. He was about to spin the contraption to the park when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Max squinted and blinked, his mind racing.

  Was it really her? He looked again, willing the man blocking his view to move out of the way. The fellow took a few steps and disappeared into a doorway, giving Max a clear line of sight.

  ‘Kensy, come here!’ the boy barked.

  ‘No, I’ve still got heaps of time before my money runs out,’ the girl protested.

  ‘Please, I need you to see something,’ Max insisted. ‘It’s important.’

  Kensy rolled her eyes then reluctantly left her post.

  ‘So what’s the big deal?’ She bumped her brother out of the way and grabbed the handles.

  ‘Down there on the street. Do you see her?’ Max asked.

  ‘Who?’ Kensy squinted. There were hordes of people, but no one she recognised.

  ‘Give it back.’ Max wrestled the binoculars from her and peered through the lenses. He swivelled them to the right trying to catch her again. ‘There!’ he exclaimed. ‘She’s wearing a white dress. Look! But don’t move it this time.’

  Kensy leaned in and focused on the crowd below. She panned along until she could see a woman in a white blouse. ‘The old lady with the fluffy purple hair and the red spotted skirt?’

  ‘No,’ her brother said. ‘Tinsley Chalmers. She’s in white and has a dark handbag over her shoulder.’

  ‘What? I don’t see her,’ Kensy said. She followed the line of people and finally hit on a woman in a white dress. ‘Oh, wow,’ she gasped. ‘I think that is her, except her hair is darker and shorter. Honestly, Max, it’s hard to tell.’

  ‘Let me look again,’ the boy said as he jumped up. He searched the street until the money ran out and the lens went black, but it was no use. She was gone.

  Max was mumbling to himself. ‘Why is she here?’ His mind was racing. ‘Eagle’s nest,’ he breathed. ‘Is that it? Eagle – symbol of America – somewhere up high.’

  ‘What are you going on about?’ Kensy looked at the boy then glanced around to see where Curtis and Song were. They had walked to the other side of the deck and Song was pointing at the Empire State Building in the distance.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Max said then immediately clammed up.

  ‘Okay,’ Kensy said, waiting. She wondered if the boy was suffering some kind of heat stroke. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Not here. I’ll tell you tonight, after Curtis goes to sleep. And it has to stay between us, okay?’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. The way he was speaking, Kensy was beginning to worry.

  ‘It’s fine – there’s just stuff I need you to know,’ Max said.

  ‘Shouldn’t we tell Song about Tinsley?’ Kensy said.

  Max shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think we should tell anyone – not yet.’

  Kensy wondered why Max was being so weird, but if that’s what he wanted, she’d do it.

  ‘Hey, you two, come and see this!’ Curtis called out. ‘We can see the Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridge.’

  Kensy nodded. Obviously whatever her brother had to share was important. Kensy had been concerned that ever since she’d messed up with Theo Richardson something between her and Max had been different. She couldn’t blame him if there was – after all she’d been so stupid and vain. But Max was her best friend in the world and she trusted him more than anyone.

  ‘How many skyscrapers do you think there are?’ Curtis asked as the twins joined him and Song. The boy had his phone out and was taking loads more pictures.

  ‘Too many to be bothered counting right now,’ Kensy said. ‘Can we please get an ice-cream, Song?’

  ‘That sounds like a very good idea. What about we walk home via the park? We should be able to find some cooler spots there,’ Song said.

  Song and Curtis walked ahead but Kensy and Max found themselves looking suspiciously at every woman wearing white. Max wondered why Tinsley would come to New York – given that the last information they’d heard was that Dash was somewhere in the States. Surely
there were better places for her and the children to hide.

  Kensy licked her sticky fingers as the ice-cream dribbled down the side of the waffle cone, unlike Max who popped the last bite into his mouth without a single drip.

  Song passed the girl a paper napkin. It wasn’t lost on him that Kensy was always a mess and her brother was as neat as a pin. They were so different and yet in many ways still so alike.

  Curtis fell somewhere in between as he finished his ice-cream, having managed to get the drips on the grass rather than all over himself.

  The foursome had walked quite a distance, all the way to the sailing lake and the Alice in Wonderland statue. There were people everywhere – joggers, parents pushing strollers, couples holding hands and taking photographs. But Central Park didn’t feel crowded, quite the opposite in fact. It was an oasis of calm in the middle of one of the busiest cities on earth.

  ‘Did you know that the park covers almost eight hundred and fifty acres of land?’ Max said. ‘That’s over two hundred more than Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens in London.’

  Kensy looked at her brother and shook her head. ‘Seriously why would you know that? I suppose you can visualise it all too and tell us exactly how far it will be to walk home.’

  Max frowned and thought for a moment. ‘Well, if we go straight out down 5th Avenue, it will be thirteen blocks to East 63rd Street.’

  ‘That’s miles.’ Kensy sighed. ‘Can we catch a taxi, Song? I didn’t realise we’d come so far.’

  ‘It will not be that bad, Miss Kensington, and if my old legs can carry me there, then your young ones will do the same,’ the man replied.

  ‘Do you want to take a look at the boats?’ Curtis asked the others, hopping up from the bench.

  Max followed him but Kensy stayed behind. ‘Do you not want to go with the boys, Miss Kensington?’ Song asked.

  ‘I’m tired,’ Kensy moaned. ‘These young legs of mine need to recover before you make us walk another ten miles.’ She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the sun filtered through the trees on her face. At least now there was a bit of a breeze and it didn’t feel quite so steamy.

  Song grinned to himself and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. ‘Not now,’ he mumbled, before pulling it out and reading the message.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ Kensy asked.

  Song breathed a sigh of relief. ‘No. Everything is fine, but we had better be getting back. Your grandmother has summoned us. You are having dinner out this evening as a special treat.’

  Song was glad to hear it given he hadn’t begun to think about what he would prepare for their evening meal. He called the boys.

  Curtis and Max had just watched an epic battle between an older fellow in a Yankees cap and a young boy about nine years old. The boy had won, his sailing boat cutting in front of the old man’s right on the finish line.

  The group exited the park and walked down 5th Avenue, past the mansions and high-rise apartment towers with their doormen dressed in suits. Kensy felt sorry for them in this weather. At least Song had been allowed to abandon his uniform. The crowded streets thronged with colour and noise and the atmosphere felt charged – perhaps it was the impending summer storm, but there was no doubt New York was everything Kensy thought it would be and more. Despite the oppressive heat, she couldn’t help feeling excited to be here.

  ‘My mum said we should visit the Met if we get a chance,’ Curtis said.

  ‘Your mother is right,’ Song agreed. ‘It is wonderful. Perhaps I could take you tomorrow? Their exhibition of Chinese armour and weaponry is quite something to behold. In fact I can show you one of the swords that belonged to my great-great-grandfather who was a skilled assassin and saved the life of the Emperor on more than one occasion.’

  ‘Cool,’ Curtis said with a nod.

  ‘Is that true?’ Kensy frowned, but Max wasn’t paying attention at all. He was watching something up ahead. A young man sauntering along the street, far too close to a blonde woman who seemed oblivious to his presence. She had a large taupe-coloured handbag slung over her right shoulder and Max spotted that she had earphones in. With lightning speed the fellow reached inside her bag and pulled out her wallet. She must have felt something, as she started to turn around, but the guy shoved her to the ground. The woman hit the pavement with a sickening thud.

  ‘Hey!’ Max yelled and sprinted after him.

  The thief turned to see where the shout had come from. His shoulder-length dark hair hid his face, but Max had taken a mental note of his clothes – a black T-shirt and jeans with bright red trainers.

  ‘Master Maxim!’ Song called out. Kensy and Curtis gave chase but Song stopped to attend to the woman who was lying on the ground holding her head.

  The man turned a corner into East 63rd Street and immediately disappeared from sight, but Max wasn’t about to give up. He looked left and right, without success, then he looked up. The thief had climbed onto a first-floor scaffold and was right above him. He clearly didn’t count on the athletic skills of the eleven-year-old who scaled the metal railings like a monkey, jumping onto the walkway at the opposite end.

  ‘Give me the purse!’ Max ordered.

  The fellow spun around. Max thought he couldn’t have been much older than nineteen or twenty, but he was tall and broad shouldered with a deep scar across his left cheek.

  ‘Or what?’ the guy scoffed. ‘Get lost, kid. This is none of your business.’

  ‘Stealing will get you into a lot of trouble,’ Max said. ‘And that woman’s hurt.’

  ‘Not my problem, buddy,’ the man sneered. ‘She shouldn’t have had her bag hanging open. It was like an invitation.’

  By now Kensy and Curtis had turned into East 63rd Street too.

  ‘Did you see where they went?’ Kensy panted. Curtis shook his head, but a thud on the metal above them gave Max’s position away.

  ‘It would be far better if you handed it over,’ Max threatened. ‘Then you could leave and we won’t have to get the police involved.’

  ‘You’re jokin’, right? What are you gonna do? Hit me?’ The guy pushed his greasy fringe out of his eyes. Then he balled his fists and began dancing like a boxer. ‘You’re gonna regret gettin’ involved, kid. I’m a champion over at the Y.’

  Down below Kensy had started to climb too. She’d already checked where Max and the other guy were through the gaps above.

  Curtis was still on the ground, wondering what he should do. ‘Do you want me to come up?’ he whispered.

  ‘No, stay there,’ Kensy mouthed.

  The girl scaled the metal frame, silently dropping down behind the thief. For a moment she was mesmerised by his shoes – the fanciest pair of trainers she’d ever seen and certainly something that would easily identify him.

  ‘You’re really going to hit an eleven-year-old?’ Max said to the guy.

  ‘Sure, I’ll hit you. You’re lucky I left my Glock at home,’ the man threatened.

  Max spotted his sister over the fellow’s shoulder and couldn’t resist a smile.

  ‘You serious, dude? You smilin’ at me?’ the guy said. ‘Oh man, I’m gonna give you a whoopin’, and I’m gonna enjoy it.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Kensy warned. She ran towards him and executed a high kick into the middle of his back, sending the fellow flying. He sprawled forward, the purse shooting out of his hands and skimming along the metal platform.

  As he got to his feet Max ran towards him and dealt another blow to the chin, propelling the man backward. He shook his head and rubbed his jaw, wondering what had hit him.

  ‘More?’ Kensy asked.

  ‘Why, you little brat!’ he shouted and leapt up, reaching out to grab the girl, but he didn’t count on Kensy being so quick.

  She ducked beneath his outstretched arms and spun around, delivering a scissor kick that flung him towards the edge of the scaffold. He grabbed the rail and only just managed to stop himself from going over.

  Max retrieved the purse.
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  ‘Curtis, catch,’ the boy shouted as he threw it to the lad.

  ‘Got it!’ he called back as Song and the young woman appeared from around the corner. ‘I think this is yours,’ Curtis said, passing it to her. The woman smiled and nodded her thanks. Apart from a scratch on her forehead she didn’t look as if she’d been badly injured, though she still seemed to be a little shocked.

  Song saw the thief bent over the railing. There was blood on his lip and he was wobbly.

  ‘Children, it is time to go!’ the butler shouted.

  Back on the corner Curtis spotted a police officer. He ran to the man and quickly explained what had happened then the officer used the radio on his vest to call for backup. Seconds later a car pulled up and in a matter of minutes the man from the scaffold was in handcuffs and the woman whose purse had been taken was answering questions from a policewoman.

  ‘Ma’am, can you tell me your name?’ the officer asked, pulling a notepad and pen out of her pocket. She clicked the end of the pen and flipped open to a new page.

  ‘Annika Bailey,’ the woman replied. Despite having caught her breath she was still shaking.

  The police officer gave her a quizzical look. ‘Oh, you’re a reporter on BNA – I thought there was something familiar about you. You broke the story about the nutcase sending the poisons in the mail.’

  The woman gave a tight smile. ‘Yes, that was me.’

  ‘There was another one earlier today. Some poor guy downtown opened a letter and now he’s in intensive care and it’s not looking good,’ the policewoman divulged. ‘But I probably shouldn’t have told you that.’

  ‘I appreciate that you did,’ Annika replied. She hadn’t seen anything come through on the news feeds today so if she could get there in time, it might be another coup for her.

  ‘Just don’t tell anyone where you got your lead. Anyway are you okay? Would you like me to call someone?’ the officer asked.

  Annika shook her head. ‘I’m fine, thanks to that lovely man and the children. Did you get their names? I’d really like to thank them all properly if I could.’