As people started arriving at the cake stall, the four of us kept scanning the scene for signs of possible MM activity. A lot of the younger children were getting their faces painted and seeing them wandering around with full face make-up was a little confusing, but as the crowds built during the first hour we were confident that my nemesis had kept away. It was early days, though.

  The good news was the cakes were selling like hot cakes, although none of them were actually hot.

  “How much have we made now?” I asked Emily. “And can I get a Vimto, please?”

  I was taking my scheduled break from the surveillance team and I’d wandered over to the stall for a much-needed drink. Vimto was the first soft drink I’d had after we arrived from Nigeria and I just loved its blackcurranty taste.

  Shed passed me a can. I handed him the walkie-talkie as I cracked it open. “Check in with Melody and get an update on how she’s doing, would you?”

  I gulped the cold drink down as I heard the walkie-talkie crackle as Shed made contact.

  “I counted the money a few minutes ago,” said Emily. “It was nearly forty pounds.”

  “That’s amazing!” I said. “And there’s still ages to go. So by the end we should have …”

  I stopped. There seemed to be some sort of commotion. I glanced at the crowd and noticed that everyone was looking up and pointing into the sky.

  The wheels on my chair began pulsing. I felt its energy pushing up through my hands and spine, calling to the cat within me. Something big was about to happen, I could sense it.

  I shot a look up at the sky. There, floating above me, was a big bunch of colourful balloons. But that wasn’t all. Tied just beneath them was a bag. My chair went ballistic. It felt like an emergency siren was going off in my head as shots of pure Cyborg Cat energy charged round my body, sending alarm signals from the tips of my toenails to the hair on my head. Whatever was inside the bag was Not Good.

  I didn’t have to wait long to find out. A moment later, an arrow fizzed through the sky and burst three of the balloons. The impact was just enough to send the whole bunch crashing to the ground. The bag landed with a thud and emptied its cargo.

  There must have been hundreds of them, all different sorts. There were animal masks, cartoon characters, celebrities and film stars, scary masks and funny ones. Within seconds, all the kids – and plenty of grown-ups too – had grabbed one and put it on. There were now so many people wearing a mask it would be virtually impossible to spot the Masked Marauder amongst them.

  It was a master stroke from an evil genius. Cyborg Cat had his work cut out.

  “Brian,” I shouted. “Are you getting this?”

  From behind the camera, Brian gave me a big thumbs up.

  I grabbed the walkie-talkie back from Shed and charged over to Salim.

  “The Masked Marauder is here!”

  “He must be,” Salim agreed. “But what’s he going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “Just keep watching as closely as you can. I’ll tell Melody and Dex to do the same. This time he’s not going to get away.”

  I tried to contact Melody, but for some reason she wasn’t picking up. I scanned the crowd. By now most of the people at the street party thought wearing a mask was great fun and they were all giggling and messing about. It was chaotic.

  I needed help. Cyborg Cat help.

  I closed my eyes and tried to shut out everything around me. I slowed my breathing and focused my mind.

  Cyborg Cat, I know you’re in there, I can sense you. I need to catch the Masked Marauder and I need your help.

  A moment later I saw a swirling ball of energy in my mind, like a Catherine wheel. Sparks were flying off it and zooming around my body, which felt electric.

  We had connected.

  Suddenly, everything got louder and clearer. I could make out people’s heartbeats rhythmically beating like the drums from a marching band. I could pick out individual conversations and hear every word being spoken.

  “How much for these lovely earrings? They’d be a perfect wedding present for my niece.”

  That was Mrs McLean, one of our neighbours. But the jewellery stall was at the other end of the street. How could I hear her so clearly?

  “Woof! Woof! Grrrr …”

  King, the German Shepherd that always chased us when we rode our bikes!

  No way, I thought. King lived nearly two streets away. I couldn’t be hearing him. But if he was roaming around here, things could get very scary. King hates kids.

  I opened my eyes in alarm. There was no sign of a dog but it was as if I had super vision. I could cut through the crowds and hone in on tiny details. I could see the sweat on a woman’s arm, a spot on a man’s nose and, unfortunately, a small cloud appear from a boy’s bottom when he farted.

  It was a lot to take on board, and I was still trying to get used to my new powers when I spotted the Masked Marauder. Like a lot of other people in the crowd, he was wearing a panda mask, but I knew it was him. He was laughing to himself as he moved stealthily through the crowd. It was as if his body was surrounded by a dark, menacing aura that showed his bad intentions.

  At first I couldn’t see where he was heading, but then it became clear. He was making a beeline for our cake stall.

  “Emily! Shed!” I shouted, but it was no good. They were really busy serving and didn’t look up. They couldn’t hear me above the crowd.

  A moment later I saw the Masked Marauder duck round the back of the stall, grab the strongbox and try to walk off quickly. It was crowded, so he couldn’t go fast.

  Frantically, I tried the walkie-talkie again, but I couldn’t get through. I was just about to hurl it to the ground in frustration when I noticed that the knob was tuned to the wrong channel. It must have got knocked. I clicked it back to the right position.

  “Melody!” I screamed into the handset at the top of my voice. “Melody!”

  “Ade, what’s wrong?”

  “Melody, the Masked Marauder has got the money and he’s getting away! Get Dexter and head to the cake stall. I’ll get Salim and Brian.”

  Moments later the five of us set off in pursuit. The chase was on.

  The Masked Marauder was clever. He kept ducking in and out of the stalls and the crowd, making it difficult to keep track of him, even with my powers.

  Dexter was haring around like a headless chicken, bumping into people left, right and centre. Unfortunately, one of those people was a man just about to throw a ball at the coconut shy. When Dexter barged into him, the ball the man was holding flew off in a very different direction to the one he’d intended it to. Thankfully, it didn’t hit anyone. Somewhat less thankfully, it rolled onto a rug where a family were having a picnic. As I watched in horror, the grandmother of the family picked it up and, thinking it was an apple, took a big bite.

  “Owwwwww!” she yelped as her false teeth came flying out of her mouth. Dexter had a lot of explaining to do and we were a man down.

  I kept my eyes trained on the Masked Marauder. He was getting closer and closer to the end of the street. Once he was out of the crowds, his path would be clear and he’d get away.

  “There!” I shouted, spotting a gap between a bouncy castle and a drinks stand.

  We found ourselves with a clear run behind the stalls to the end of the street. If we were quick enough, we might just be able to get there at the same time as the Masked Marauder.

  We zoomed down as fast as we could, Salim in front with me not far behind. Just as we passed the last stall on the street, Salim rolled over a rubber duck that must’ve fallen from one of the market stalls. It jammed into his front wheels, making a loud squeaking noise and forcing his back wheels up off the ground. It very nearly threw Salim out of his chair.

  I was right behind him. Thinking quickly, I squeezed my push rims as hard as I could and managed to stop by doing a wheelie. I was literally millimetres from crashing into the back of Salim’s chair.

  The rest of the gang weren’t so lucky. They clattered into the back of me, and I knocked into Salim, sending all of us flying into the air. We landed in a jumbled heap of tangled legs, spinning wheels and candyfloss. Brian had ducked down to avoid a rope and put his head right into a large stick of it that was being held by a young girl. The gooey pink mess was covering most of his head and quite a lot of the camera.

  “Oh no,” shouted Melody. “MM’s getting away.”

  I looked up to see the Masked Marauder free of the crowds and running off.

  “Not again,” I groaned. “I can’t believe it.”

  Feelings of disappointment and frustration started to overwhelm me, but then I felt my chair vibrate. It was trying to tell me something: use your powers.

  I scanned the area with my super vision. I didn’t know what I was looking for but, as I focused in on a patch of long grass, I felt a jolt and I knew I’d found it.

  “Melody, look!”

  I pointed. In the middle of the grass you could just make out a football.

  “What?”

  “In the long grass. There’s a football.”

  “So? What do you want me to do, Ade?”

  “Take a shot,” I said. “You’re a brilliant footballer. You can stop him.”

  “I haven’t got my lucky boots!”

  “You don’t need them, Melody,” I said, looking at her. “You’ve just got to believe in yourself. You’re the one with all the talent,” I went on. “Not the boots. It’s all inside you. I know you can do it.”

  Melody looked at the ball and then at the Masked Marauder, who was quite a long way away now, rounding a big tree close to the gates of the park. It was going to take something pretty special to stop him.

  Suddenly, a look of real determination came over her face.

  “Move back,” she said to the rest of us.

  We gave her the space she needed and watched as she took a deep breath and ran towards the ball. She glanced up one more time, focused in on her target and then let fly.

  We watched as the ball curved round the tree and then bent back round to the other side of it. And then …

  Thump!

  It hit the Masked Marauder full on in the stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground.

  It was the most incredible banana shot any of us had ever seen.

  “Goooooaaaallll!” cheered Brian. “Right, come on, let’s go and unmask the Masked Marauder.”

  He looked around, but I wasn’t there. I was already halfway to my nemesis as he lay defeated.

  13

  Masking for Trouble

  I HAD imagined unmasking the Masked Marauder many times in my head. Usually, it had been a big, triumphant moment. I’d be in front of a crowd, shouting, “Behold, the true face of the Masked Marauder, captured by the incredible Parsons Road Gang!” Then everyone would gasp as they saw who it was and we would all be crowned heroes.

  In fact, when I got to where he was lying I found myself feeling almost sorry for him.

  He was lying on the ground, groaning. His mask was already half off and I could see what was probably sweat, but might have been tears, running down the side of his face.

  “Go on then, Ade,” said Melody, right behind me.

  “Hold on – not yet!” Brian shouted. “First I need you to get into position. Go behind him, so you’re not blocking the shot, and pull the mask off when I say ‘ACTION!’ Once the mask has been removed, Ade, I want you to give me a steely look straight down the lens. This, my friends, is going to be award-winning.”

  I raised my eyebrows a little. Brian was in full Hollywood film director mode.

  Emily and Shed had temporarily closed the cake stall and joined us, and Dexter had sorted out his tricky situation by agreeing to wash the picnic family’s car every weekend for the next month, so, with six pairs of eyes trained on me, I grabbed the panda mask.

  In my imagination I’d whipped the mask off in one really cool move, but the reality was different. I didn’t want to hurt whoever it was, so, slowly and carefully, I lifted his mask.

  The dramatic gasping was just like I’d imagined it, though. As soon as the Masked Marauder’s face was revealed, we all breathed in very quickly, and I made a slightly hoarse yelping sound.

  It wasn’t because of who it was, though. It was because of who it wasn’t. Or rather, it was because of who it was, but who it was wasn’t who any of us expected it to be.

  None of us had any idea who this person actually was.

  The man beneath the mask was a boy. He was a little older than the rest of us, but it wasn’t anyone we recognised at all.

  “Who are you?” asked Melody eventually.

  The boy didn’t answer.

  “Why are you trying to stop Ade getting a sports wheelchair?” said Salim.

  Still nothing.

  “What have you done with all our money?” Dexter demanded.

  Once again, the boy remained tight-lipped.

  “This is ridiculous!” Brian groaned.

  I raised my hand and gestured for calm.

  “It’s okay, Brian,” I said. “We’ll get him to talk.”

  “Oh, no, sorry,” said Brian. “It’s not him, it’s this stupid camera. I’ve run out of battery. We might have to film those questions again when I’ve put the spare one in.”

  “We can’t do it all again, Brian,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

  The Masked Marauder seemed determined not to say a word, but as I looked at him I felt a charge of energy from my chair. I closed my eyes and tapped into my Cyborg Cat self and a memory came back to me.

  ‘I know you,” I said. “You’re Steph’s brother. I’ve seen you in the playground at school. You’re in the year above us.”

  He still didn’t say anything, but that definitely hit home, I could tell.

  “So now we know who you are,” I continued, “we can go to the police and tell them about all the money you’ve stolen. We’ve even got your last theft on film.”

  “Indeed. We have a beautiful shot of you swiping the cash,” said Brian, beaming. “It was magnificent – the dappled sunlight in the background created a real sense of drama.”

  “BRIAN!” I said sternly. This film director malarkey had totally gone to his head.

  I don’t know if it was the threat of the police or the glare I’d given Brian, but whatever it was it did the trick.

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t go to the police,” the boy pleaded. “I only took the cash today, I don’t know about any other thefts.”

  “Oh, so you can speak,” said Dexter. “We thought for a moment that when you fell to the ground a worm had come along and eaten your tongue.”

  None of us had thought that. It was classic Dexter.

  “So, go on then,” I said. “Answer our questions.”

  “Look,” the boy said, finally sitting up. “I don’t know anything. Honestly. Someone slipped a message into one of my schoolbooks and asked me to meet them. They said they were a friend of Steph’s.”

  “Rubbish,” said Shed. “You’re making it up.”

  “I’m not,” he went on. “The message said that if I helped them I’d get enough money to pay for a really good pair of goalkeeping gloves. I really want to be the goalie in my year’s football team.”

  “Go on,” I said. “So who did you meet?”

  “That’s just it,” the boy said. “I don’t know.”

  We all looked puzzled.

  “When I met them they were wearing a mask,” the boy continued. “A Darth Vader mask, so I couldn’t tell who it was. They told me the plan: turn up here, burst the balloons, be the Masked Marauder and take your money. They said it was just a bit of fun for the street party, but that if I did it, they’d give me thirty pounds so I could get the gloves.”

  “You must know something about them,” said Emily.

  “Nothing,” he said. “All I know is that whoever it was, they were quite tall. That’s it. Please don’t go to the police. Here’s your money from the cake stall – take it. I don’t know about any other thefts but I’ll help you get the rest back too if you let me help. Please.”

  He took the moneybox out from inside his jacket and laid it on the ground.

  It was a strange story, but I sensed he was telling the truth.

  “You can go now,” I said, picking up the box. “But you’ll definitely be hearing from us again.”

  “Yeah, so don’t think about leaving the country and going to live in Parazuela,” shouted Dexter as the boy scurried away.

  “I think you meant to say Paraguay,” corrected Brian. “Or Venezuela.”

  “Right,” I said, ignoring their bickering. “Time for another emergency summit meeting. Right now.”

  There were lots of suggestions about what we should do next. Brian wanted to hire the local cinema to show his film The Great Capture: A Brian Spielberg Production. He felt certain that whoever was behind the Darth Vader mask would come along to a premiere and give himself up. I wasn’t so sure about that. Melody suggested that we throw a Star Wars party and check out all the people who turned up as Darth Vader. Salim suggested asking his uncle, who was a policeman, for advice, and Emily and Dexter chipped in but I noticed that one person wasn’t saying very much at all.

  “What do you think, Shed?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It could … I mean, the thing is, I …”

  “Spit it out, Shed,” said Dexter.

  “Okay, well, look,” he said. “All we know is that the person is tall, right?”

  We all nodded.

  “So, erm, that might mean that whoever it is could be … a grown-up?”

  That hadn’t occurred to any of us.

 

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