Cadel realised that he was starting to stray into fantasyland. The important thing, the hardest thing, would be to get away in the first place. Once he'd done that, he could afford to concentrate on his long-term future a which wouldn't include Thaddeus.

The previous night, Cadel had been confused. Now his mind was clear, but he hadn't changed it. Thaddeus might be his father, or he might not. Whatever he was, it made no difference to Cadel. It was irrelevant. Cadel still wanted nothing more to do with him. Thaddeus was a brilliant man a a man whom Cadel still admired, despite himself. But Thaddeus couldn't be trusted. Not one iota.

Limping to the window, Cadel pulled the filmy curtain aside. Beyond it, the sun was blazing. He had to squint, and lift his hand to shield his eyes, before he could see what lay spread out at his feet. It was the sea, dark and serene under a cloudless sky. Far off, on the horizon, he could just make out the shape of a large ship: a tanker, perhaps. To his right, if he craned his neck, he could see headlands folding back like bedcovers. To his left, he thought he could spy a beach.

Where was he?

Below him, waves crashed against an unseen cliff-face. There was a terraced area, planted with hardy shrubs, and a patio wet with salt spray. 'Good place to get rid of a body,' Cadel thought, and shuddered. He had to get out.

After dressing, he cautiously sidled into the corridor that bisected the top floor of this startling house. Would he be lucky enough to escape detection? Would he be able to walk straight downstairs and out the front door? For an instant his heart leapt; then he heard a voice from the bottom of the staircase.

'Good morning, sir.' It was Vadi. 'How is your foot this morning?'

Cadel cursed silently to himself. It was obvious that Vadi had been appointed to watch over him. There would be no slipping out of this house. Not while Vadi was around.

Not, at least, until Cadel had a better grasp of the building's layout and security systems.

'Uh a my foot's fine,' said Cadel. In fact it was still sore, but not nearly as painful as it had been the previous night. 'Where did the shoes come from?'

'I went shopping,' Vadi replied, enigmatically. 'Would you care for something to eat, sir?'

'Um ...' Cadel hesitated. He felt squeamish about accepting food from Vadi. An image of worms and oysters flashed into his mind. But he suddenly realised that he was famished. 'Maybe . . . toast?'

'Of course, sir.' Vadi was still dressed in his tailcoat, which looked a little odd in the harsh light of day. 'Anything else? An omelette, perhaps? With bacon?'

'Well . . . yes. Okay.'

'Mushrooms? Fried tomatoes?'

'No thanks.' Cadel didn't like mushrooms. And he preferred his tomatoes cold. 'Where's the bathroom again?'

'Directly to your left,' Vadi replied. He went away to order the omelette, but was back by the time Cadel had finished in the bathroom. Cadel then followed him into a downstairs room that overlooked the spray-lashed terrace. On a pale marble floor stood a long wooden table and six chairs. The table was laid with a white linen cloth, a damask napkin, silver cutlery, a crystal gla.s.s and a jug of orange juice. There was also a folded newspaper lying beside the jug.

It was like being in a hotel, Cadel decided, intimidated somewhat by the silence, the high ceiling and the immense, enfolding view that he could see through a wall of windows.

Vadi waited behind a chair until Cadel had sat down on it. Then he pushed the chair towards the table, and disappeared.

Cadel looked at the newspaper.

He wondered if it was there for a reason. Was he supposed to pick it up? Read a certain story about a dead man, or a mysterious explosion, or a warehouse fire? He wasn't sure. Above him, from the vaulted ceiling, dangled a lamp made of wrought iron. Behind him, a strange modern tapestry, all blurred lines and muddy colours, hung from another piece of wrought iron: a twisted black bar with frayed, claw-like ends. In front of him, the endless ocean made him feel very small.

'Ah. Cadel.' All at once Thaddeus appeared, as if he had walked through a secret hatchway. 'How are you, this morning? Or this afternoon, I should say.' He glanced at his watch. 'At least you've managed to catch up on your sleep. How's the foot?'

'Fine,' said Cadel. He realised, with a sinking heart, that his bruised bone (or whatever it was) would undoubtedly hinder him when he tried to escape. It wouldn't be easy, running away with a dud foot.

'Is Vadi attending to you?' asked Thaddeus.

'Yes.'

'Do you like the view? Impressive, isn't it?'

'I guess.' Cadel glanced at the window. 'Where are we, anyway? The south coast? Somewhere like that?'

'Somewhere like that.'

Cadel waited, but Thaddeus didn't elaborate. He only smiled. So Cadel continued.

'Is this your house?' he asked.

'Not exactly. It belongs to a man called Ivan. Very good citizen. Pays his taxes. Never makes himself conspicuous. The sort of person it's impossible to locate, when all's said and done.'

'Oh,' said Cadel. So Thaddeus lived here under an a.s.sumed name. It made sense. 'Who else lives here?'

'Vadi. Wilfreda. She cooks. He cleans.'

'That's all?'

'That's all.'

'So you don't ...' Cadel paused, wondering how to phrase his next question. 'You don't have a family?' he concluded, at which point Thaddeus narrowed his eyes.

'Of course I have a family,' he rejoined. 'You are my family, Cadel.'

'Oh. Right.' For a moment, Cadel had forgotten. 'I mean, any other family.'

'No. I told you. Your mother is dead.' Thaddeus, who had been standing near the door, crossed the room and sat next to Cadel. He was wearing a silk waistcoat over a soft linen shirt. His sleeves were rolled up. 'We have to discuss our plans, Cadel, before you talk to Phineas again. Axis is finished, as you know. The police are swarming all over it, now, though I've tried very hard to contain the damage. Unfortunately, while Vee has erased all the files, and we've sealed off Yarramundi, I can't do much about Barry Deakin. G.o.d knows what he's told the police by now. Even if I disposed of him today, it wouldn't guarantee our safety. He could have spilled his guts the minute he gave himself up. That's why we have to pull out.'

Thaddeus looked around as Vadi entered the room, bearing a tray. On the tray were a toast-rack, a small bowl full of marmalade, and an omelette arranged on a plate under curls of bacon and tufts of parsley. Vadi unloaded the tray with swift, deft movements. Thaddeus asked him for coffee.

'Yes, sir.'

'Black. It's for me.'

'Yes, sir.'

Vadi withdrew. Cadel attacked the omelette with enthusiasm. He almost forgot that Thaddeus was watching him.

'Fortunately, Barry Deakin doesn't know you as Cadel Piggott,' Thaddeus remarked. 'n.o.body did, at the inst.i.tute, except Adolf and some of the Grunts. They had to know for security reasons, but I thought it best to keep your whereabouts a secret, otherwise. In case some of your fellow students got any ideas into their heads.'

'But it was on my security card,' Cadel pointed out. 'My name and my address.' Suddenly, a vivid picture flashed into his mind. He saw himself trying to persuade Sonja that he was really Cadel Piggott. Waving the card at her.

So that was how she'd found him! She'd seen his address!

'Yes, but who saw your security card, except the scanners?' Thaddeus wanted to know. 'You didn't show it around, did you, Cadel? You were told not to.'

'I didn't.' Cadel opened his eyes very wide, his jaws working. 'I didn't show it to a single person.' On campus, he added to himself.

'Then we've got a good head start,' said Thaddeus. 'We can disappear much more easily. You might have to change your name for a while a '

'Disappear?' Cadel interrupted, spraying food everywhere. He swallowed quickly. 'What do you mean?'

'We can't hang around, dear boy. What with Barry, and the chaos at Yarramundi, there'll be a feeding frenzy, very soon. Police and media and I don't know what else. Phineas will understand.'

'But a but a '

'But what?' Thaddeus folded his arms and studied Cadel's expression. 'Surely you agree with me?'

'But I have to get back home! I mean, to the North Sh.o.r.e!' Cadel knew that his voice was too loud, too urgent, and tried to lower it. Without much success. 'There's stuff I need.'

'What stuff?'

'Stuff. Work.'

'That Brezeck business is immaterial, now. You won't be around to persecute any longer.'

'It's not that! It's a it's my program! All my calculations . . .' Actually, it was Cadel's forged doc.u.ments. His disguise. They had to be retrieved or he was doomed. 'Please, Thaddeus!'

'Take it easy. I'll send someone to get them.'

'No, no! They're hidden! It has to be me! Anyone else will just wreck them!'

There was a tense silence. Thaddeus threw back his head and looked down his long nose at Cadel. Cadel clenched his fists and tried not to sweat. Instead, he concentrated on replicating the kind of sulky, mulish countenance that he had often seen at school a the face of a child who's been denied a fancy new toy, or a trip to the beach.

'Well . . .' said Thaddeus, at last, 'I suppose that house is pretty safe, at this stage. Barry doesn't know the address, or your alias. The rest of them who did know are out of the picture a except Vee, and he's no threat. All right, you can go.'

'Thanks,' said Cadel.

'I can't come myself,' Thaddeus apologised, checking his watch again. 'I have a lot to do. In fact I probably won't be here when you get back. But don't worry, I won't have forgotten you.'

'It's okay,' said Cadel, through a mouthful of omelette.

'You realise that this is all your fault, young man.' Thaddeus flashed his canine teeth as he rose. 'If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be in this mess. I hope you're suitably contrite.'

Contrite? Puzzled, Cadel stared up at Thaddeus, who had never before uttered anything that even remotely resembled the words 'you ought to be ashamed of yourself'. In response, Thaddeus laughed out loud.

'My dear boy,' he said, ruffling Cadel's hair, 'don't look so alarmed. There's no need for you to be contrite about anything. As a matter of fact, I'd be very upset if you were.'

Then he strode from the room.

A few minutes later, Vadi returned with the coffee. When Cadel told him that Thaddeus had already gone, the young man looked slightly sick.

It was this change of expression that convinced Cadel once and for all. He had to get out. While Thaddeus might be all smiles at the moment, he was still dangerous. There was no telling what he might do if crossed.

As Cadel ate his breakfast, he considered his situation. He was sitting on a headland, but he didn't know which headland. How far was he from the nearest community? He had a vision of himself slogging along a bleak seaside road, as exposed and vulnerable as a newly shorn lamb in a paddock. He would be escaping on foot, and Thaddeus had a car. Probably more than one, in fact. Cadel wouldn't stand a chance.

So it would be pointless trying to escape from here. Once he'd picked up his doc.u.ments and his disguise, then he would slip away from Vadi. Perhaps on the drive back to this house? A pit-stop at a petrol station? Cadel could ask to use the toilet, don his disguise, sneak out and hitch a lift with a another customer. A truck driver, perhaps. He seemed to recall that truck drivers were usually eager to pick up young female hitchhikers. Especially young female hitchhikers who had been monstered by their boyfriends. 'I can't let him see me,' Cadel would say. 'Please, I've got to get away!'

Perhaps, if he whispered, no one would notice that he didn't have a girl's voice.

After breakfast, he accompanied Vadi to a sleek grey BMW parked near the front steps. Outside, the light was dazzling. It flooded a scene of great beauty, which nevertheless made Cadel's heart sink. How far away they were from everything! The house, a modern structure made of gla.s.s and steel and stone, was sitting right on the point of a wooded headland. Behind it rose a hill covered in gum trees, through which threaded a winding road. The road led straight to Thaddeus's front door, switching from asphalt to gravel where it formed a circle at the base of the steps that led up to the house. There was no garden wall that Cadel could see: just the road appearing out of the bush. Between the bush and the house was a lawn, a fountain, a handful of trees and a collection of heathery shrubs. Seagulls wheeled overhead.

'Where are we?' Cadel asked, when Vadi was comfortably installed in the driver's seat.

'Curramulla,' said Vadi, turning a key in the ignition. As they followed the curving road up into the trees, Cadel racked his brain. Curramulla? It didn't ring a bell.

Only when they had travelled for about five minutes, and pa.s.sed through an automatic gate in a high brick wall, did Cadel begin to understand. He saw the bra.s.s letters by the gate and realised that Curramulla was the name of the house. The house and all the land attached to it, which must have cost a fortune.

Cadel wondered if Thaddeus owned any other headlands around the place. Or any islands, perhaps? Someone like Thaddeus could only live in very isolated spots, away from prying eyes. Where he could come and go without being noticed by sticky-beak neighbours.

After leaving Curramulla, Vadi and Cadel drove for a long time on a rather featureless highway, littered with turn-offs. Cadel didn't recognise many of the names, though one or two of them seemed familiar. Vadi was heading north, at any rate. The young man drove in silence, his dark eyes fixed on the road ahead. Cadel noticed the webbing between his fingers; it reached almost to the lower knuckles. He wondered about Vadi's feet: Were they also webbed? But Cadel didn't let his gaze linger on Vadi's webbed fingers, or his pinched nostrils, or his oily skin. In fact he made a point of keeping his face turned away from his companion. There were plans to be made, after all. Cadel didn't want to reveal himself while he plotted and schemed. The slightest change of expression could be dangerous.

Then he saw the turn-off to Wollongong, and began to get a sense of where Thaddeus was living.

'Oh!' he said. 'We are far away.'

Vadi said nothing. But that didn't matter: Cadel knew where he was now. He settled in for a long drive a much longer than he'd antic.i.p.ated a calculating that they wouldn't reach the North Sh.o.r.e until at least three o'clock, or even later. If he managed to escape during the trip back to Curramulla, then he might find himself still wandering around when night fell. Would that be a good thing or bad? Probably bad. While the darkness would make him harder to find, it would also be dangerous for an unaccompanied girl.

He thought he might go interstate, to begin with. Not by air; airline databases were too vulnerable. No, he would hitch a lift. Or buy a train ticket. Something like that.

He was still weighing up his options when he dozed off, waking with a start to the sound of a nearby horn. Blearily, he gazed around. They were on the Pacific Highway, crawling through Chatswood.

'Jeez,' he mumbled, and checked the car clock. 'It must have been that chloroform.'

Vadi didn't reply.

'Ugh,' said Cadel. His mouth was dry. 'I'm really thirsty.'

'There's lemonade in the glove box,' Vadi informed him. To Cadel's surprise, the lemonade was home-made. It had been poured into a stainless-steel thermos flask, and was very, very good.

Cadel sipped it quietly until they were further up the highway. Then he instructed Vadi to 'turn off here'.

'It's all right, sir,' Vadi replied. 'I know the way.'

He did, too. He guided the big, purring car through a maze of peaceful suburban streets until he reached the Piggotts' house, which could not be seen behind its hedge. The sight of that hedge filled Cadel with a complicated mixture of anger, fear and nostalgia. He reached for his door handle.

'Wait,' said Vadi, and punched the horn several times. Obediently, Cadel waited. At last Stuart Piggott appeared, lumbering down the driveway onto the road. He raised his hand in greeting.

Cadel suddenly felt sick.

'Okay, sir.' Vadi nodded at him. 'Dr Roth has instructed me to keep watch here until you're done.'

'Th-thanks,' Cadel stammered. Slowly, he got out of the car. Slowly, he approached Stuart Piggott a or James Guisnal a who gestured towards the unseen house.

'Any help you need, just ask,' James said calmly. 'Sue's inside.'

For a moment, Cadel was speechless. He gazed up into the fat, red face with loathing. Thaddeus had never mentioned the Piggotts! He had never said that they would still be here!

Cadel turned abruptly and began to trudge up the driveway. But when he heard the crunch of Stuart's tread behind him, he stopped.