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it.

    ‘I’ve been reading up on the Sphinx and Egypt,’ he said, ‘trying to work out why your dad might have drawn it. I don’t know what this drawing means, exactly, but I did find out something interesting.’
    ‘Yeah?’ I prompted. ‘Spit it out.’
    ‘The Sphinx is connected with a riddle.’
    ‘A riddle ?’ A charge of energy made me sit up straight. ‘Now that is interesting. The riddle of the Sphinx and the Ormond Riddle.’
    ‘Your dad had riddles on the brain and I bet he knew about the Ormond Riddle. Maybe he even knew the words. Is there anyone else in your family who might know something?’
    ‘Maybe one of my old relatives can help—thegreat-uncle or great-aunt. I didn’t get out to Great-uncle Bartholomew’s, as planned, but he’s probably my best shot.’
    I didn’t have much family. Dad’s parents had died long ago and Mum’s few relatives lived overseas.
    ‘Do you think Dad was trying to suggest that the secret he was onto—the Ormond Singularity—had something to do with solving the Ormond Riddle?’
    ‘Yes, and that’s why I’ve checked the dictionary for exactly what riddle means.’
    ‘Isn’t it kind of like a joke? Some sort of trick?’
    ‘Listen and learn, dude,’ said Boges, reading from his notebook yet again. ‘According to the dictionary, a riddle is “a question or a statement requiring thought to answer or understand; something perplexing, something that requires solving; an enigma.”’
    ‘A what?’
    ‘Yeah, I had to look that one up too. “An enigma is something secret or hidden,”’ said Boges.
    ‘We already knew that!’ I said in frustration.
    ‘Take a look at them; they’re all enigmas!’
    ‘Hang on a minute. You wouldn’t have known anything about a riddle if you hadn’t seen thewords “Ormond Riddle” in your uncle’s office. Your dad wasn’t to know you’d get that bit of information,’ he said, getting up and packing up his things.
    ‘I just wish Dad’d told us something a bit more helpful.’
    ‘Dude,’ said Boges, his round face suddenly very serious. ‘Look what we’re up against. Your dad knew he had to be very careful conveying this information to you, and that was before his mind went on him. You’re lucky he managed the drawings.’
    Boges flipped the elastic back around his notebook and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Of course, he was also counting on me being here to help you figure it all out. I mean, seriously, what would you do without me?’
    ‘I don’t know whether it’s your brain or your modesty that I like best about you, Boges.’
    ‘I can imagine, dude. It must be tough keeping up with me. And don’t think for a second I’m boasting about my talent. It’s just a fact.’
    He was only mucking around, but it was true. At school Boges came first, year after year, in just about every subject. And then of course there was all his electronic stuff, completely self-taught. He could take any old piece of junk off the streetand have it functioning again in no time. He’d once built a robotic backpack on caterpillar treads that ‘walked’ along behind him to school and into the classroom. He’d made and sold quite a few, until the teachers banned them when they realised Boges had really just designed them so he could stage monster-truck-style crashes with the other kids in the corridors.
    ‘Between us,’ said Boges, ‘we’ll work it out. When I get home from school, I’m going to track down who this Roman is, and have another search for the Ormond Riddle on the net. I’m also going to see if “Ormond Angel” takes me anywhere.’
    ‘Good idea.’
    I looked at the strong features of the drawing of the Roman, the way the hair was curled over the guy’s forehead, the thick nose and empty eyes. It looked just like one of those marble heads that you’d see in a museum. I thought I understood the Sphinx. But together with the head? It made no sense.
    Sirens started wailing out on the street. I jumped