Half Moon Investigations - Eoin Colfer [50]
‘Can you hear anything?’
Red glanced sideways for a moment. ‘These are binoculars, Half Moon. They only work on eyes.’
It occurred to me that private-eye-type comments could be really annoying after a while.
I held on to a branch, leaning out until my elbow creaked.
‘I can’t hear anything. We need to get closer.’
Red rummaged in his backpack. ‘I have some audio-surveillance equipment.’
He tossed me a Soldier Sam toy walkie-talkie. ‘Audio-surveillance equipment? We’re supposed to be professionals.’
‘It’s got a range of three metres and six Soldier Sam phrases, in Soldier Sam’s actual voice.’
I pretended to be impressed. ‘Three metres? Wow. That’s nearly as far as I can hear.’
Red snatched the radio, stuffing it into his sack. ‘I think you’re forgetting who is the cool one here and who is the escaped criminal nerd on the verge of getting a thump.’
I had a flashback to the sports field, when Red had jammed his hurl under my chin. That seemed a lifetime away, and this was a different Red. But you never know…
‘Point taken, but we still need to get closer.’
Red hopped down from his perch, landing on his toes and the fingertips of one hand. I hopped down too, landing on my face and one cheek of my bottom. Which is not easy.
‘Come on,’ hissed Red.
‘Arrumf,’ I replied.
We crept across the Devereux’s garden. It was dark now, but the pink glow from the unicorn bedroom cast a fake sunset across the pale gravel.
‘I feel like we’re breaking into Disneyland,’ muttered Red.
I didn’t comment. I was too nervous. This casual spying might be tame stuff for a Sharkey, but it was still pretty new to me.
April’s parents had thoughtfully planted a stout creeper below the balcony, so Red didn’t even have to use the grappling hook in his bag to get us up there. He was a bit disappointed about that.
‘I needn’t have packed this,’ he whispered, as we sneaked on to the balcony.’ You know how heavy this is? You can carry it back.’
I barely noticed what he was saying. I had wriggled to the glass door. The strange ritual being enacted inside made me forget my nerves completely.
‘Get over here, Red,’ I whispered. ‘You have got to see this.’
*
The unicorn room was like something out of a macho man’s worst nightmare. Pink everywhere. Doors, lampshades, curtains, duvet covers. All pink. Every shade from pastel to neon. I could feel my eyeballs sizzle just looking at the walls.
Red joined me at the glass door.
‘Wow. As I said, lotta pink.’
Les Jeunes Étudiantes were gathered around a puffy fringed footstool. Pink. April Devereux stood on the footstool, arms outstretched like a preacher. The dozen or so other girls listened raptly to every word she said, and listening raptly is very unusual for ten-year-olds, especially in a large group.
‘We need to hear what she’s saying,’ I whispered.
‘No problem,’ said Red, activating one of the Soldier Sam walkie-talkies.
He tugged at the bottom corner of the French window and it opened a crack. Unlocked. Red pulled slowly, until there was a gap big enough to wiggle his arm through. Not one of the girls noticed, too busy preaching or being preached at.
‘Now for the hard bit,’ said Red. ‘Be ready to jump if this goes wrong.’
Before I had a chance to object to that ludicrous statement, Red tossed the walkie-talkie across the room. It landed on the bed, nestling between a fuzzy bunny and a heart pillow. Both pink.
Red winked. ‘Impressed?’
I winked back. ‘I’ll be even more impressed when you get it back.’
Sometimes it’s nice to be the brains in the group.
‘How’s the behind, Half Moon?’ said Red, not as lost for words as I’d hoped. ‘I bet you’ll have a nice bruise in the morning.’
Time to change the subject.
‘We’re on surveillance here, Red. We can insult each other later.’
Red twisted the volume wheel on the second walkie-talkie. The first unit was set to broadcast, so we could pick up every word spoken inside. We lay flat on our stomachs, our jaws dropping wider as events unfolded in the unicorn room.
April Devereux stood on the pink stool. She was dressed and adorned