Trouble in New York by Sylvia Bishop

Author:Sylvia Bishop [Bishop, Sylvia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic
Published: 2019-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

INVASION!

1 July 1969

The three of them spent the evening in Prospect Park, lying on the grass, discussing everything that they had seen and learned. Jamie thought Woolf didn’t seem entirely trustworthy, and Rose thought he seemed misunderstood and tragic, and Eve thought that all the timer-operated electronics in the prison had been very interesting. They talked until they were all talked out, and then they just lay there alongside the smell of the grass and the lengthening shadows, thinking.

It was Rose who broke the silence. “So what’s the plan, Jamie?”

Jamie carefully tied a knot in a blade of grass while he decided how to respond. He wanted to investigate Pearl, but he had to keep that to himself. “Let’s meet tomorrow morning. We’ve got our why: I’ll keep thinking about who would want to hurt Harry. Eve, you keep working on the how of the vanishing. Rose – do you think you could try again to find out from your dad what he saw? It would help so much.”

Rose sighed. It was an enormous sigh, for such a small person. “I’ll try. But I’ve asked so many times. He always just says, ‘Nothing’.”

Jamie turned his head to give her a comforting sort-of smile, and Pumpkin licked her face with extra slobber, which was probably meant to be nice. “Well,” said Jamie, “thanks for trying, anyway.”

Then Rose had to go and cook for her dad, and Eve had to go and report to her mother, so Jamie set off for home. He was too late for Pepe’s, but he stopped at Memorial Pier for a while, leaning out over the railings. He felt something strange, but he couldn’t quite name it.

As he looked at the distant lights of Manhattan, he thought about Eve and Rose, somewhere out there among the sprawling glitter. Eve would be going home to her mother right now; her mother, who might or might not be behind the city’s biggest crime spree, obsessed with the downfall of her own brother. Rose would be going home to her broken father, to their run-down house where they didn’t have enough money to get by. And then Jamie realized what that strange feeling was. He was worried about his friends. He had never had to worry about anyone besides his mom and himself before. It was an uncomfortable sort of worry, because there wasn’t much he could do about it.

He set off home.

The silence was waiting again as soon as he opened his front door. There was a slight draught that might have been a breath; a faint creak that might have been a step. But Jamie was not going to scare so easily tonight. He stepped inside, shut the door, and turned on the light.

There was a blonde woman in the apartment.

She was casually sitting at his kitchen table, and casually tapping her manicured fingers on the tabletop, and casually aiming a pistol at his chest. Her white-blonde hair was coiffed up in a swirl. She looked like an unusually dangerous Mr Whippy ice cream.

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