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Twenty-three. Callie 8 page

I forced myself to calm down. I'd tried every trick in the book to retrieve data off that stick and I was no slouch when it came to computing. If I couldn't do it, then surely he couldn't? I'd just have to hope I wasn't indulging in wishful thinking. I was safe. Was I safe? Until I heard otherwise, no news had to be good news. In the meantime, I maybe had something I could use against him. And I had to work fast before I was forced to do something monstrous.

My admittedly naïve initial plan had been to get close to McAuley. To follow orders – any orders – until I learned something I could use against him. I'd planned to become another Dan, with my eyes wide open and my mouth tight shut. But now I had the memory stick, I'd be stupid to pass up this opportunity.

My phone rang, just as I was about to switch on my computer.

'Hello, Dan,' I said coolly, after reading the caller ID.

'Tobey, can you be at my house in five minutes?'

'Why?'

'I need your help,' said Dan.

It only took me a moment to decide.

'I'll be there,' I told him.

He disconnected the call, like he expected nothing less.

 

Forty-nine

 

Five minutes later, I was standing outside Dan's door. I hadn't forgotten Callie. Or my sister. I'd never forget the way Jess looked when I opened the bathroom door. It kept playing on repeat in my head, along with Callie being shot. Even now I was afraid I'd give myself away with every word I said to Dan and every look I gave him. Why would I even think about helping him? Friends close. Enemies closer.

'Hi, Dan,' I said, the moment he opened the door.

'Hi, Tobey.'

Dan shifted from foot to foot. I stood perfectly still. I'd never really noticed the way Dan fidgeted before. For the first time I wondered if he was sampling his own merchandise.

'So what's the problem?'

'Mr McAuley just phoned and gave me a job to do, but I can't do it alone,' said Dan.

'What's the job?'

'Some dagger, name of Boris Haddon. He owes Mr McAuley money and I'm being sent to collect it. Mr McAuley warned me this is my last chance. He told me if I screw this up, then I'd better crawl under a rock and stay there.'

'And you want me to help you strong-arm some guy into giving you money? I don't think so, Dan. That's called five to ten years in prison.'

'I just need some backup. I'll do all the talking and none of us will come to any harm. He'll hand over the money and we'll be on our way in less than a minute. But if I'm alone, Haddon might be tempted to try something stupid.'

'Who is this Boris Haddon?'

'He owns a bakery in North Meadowview. It's doing very well by all accounts.'

Hence a vulture like McAuley circling.

'Does Haddon know you're coming?'

''Course not,' Dan scoffed. 'At least . . . at least, I don't think so.'

'So are you supposed to go to his house or his shop or what?'

'Mr McAuley said Haddon would be in his shop till six this evening, but I thought we could go now before the lunch-time crowd hits the place.'

'Wouldn't McAuley have warned him to have the money ready to hand over?' I argued. 'In which case, Haddon does know you're coming.'



Dan considered. 'I suppose that makes sense,' he said grudgingly.

'Did McAuley tell you to ask for my help?' I frowned.

'No.' Dan looked puzzled. 'Why would he? I'm asking you as a friend.'

A friend . . .

'Are you going to help me then?' Dan asked. 'Please, Tobey.'

Pause.

'OK, I'll do it.' But my reasons weren't exactly altruistic. Not even close.

'Tobey, are you ready to get your hands dirty? 'Cause you're no use to me if you're not prepared to back me up.'

'I'll give you all the backup you'd give me,' I replied.

Dan's eyes narrowed. I forced a smile.

'We're cool,' I told him. 'So how do we get to Haddon's shop?'

Dan frowned. 'By bus. How d'you think?'

I only just managed to stop myself from creasing up. Two hard-guy wannabes getting heavy with one of McAuley's victims, then making good their escape on the local bus. Oh yeah, we were really threatening! If this Haddon guy managed to pick himself up from the floor when he'd finished howling with laughter, then he just might find the energy to boot Dan and me out of his shop.

'You'll need this,' said Dan, holding out a sheathed knife, its handle towards me.

And all at once, it wasn't so funny any more. I hesitated. Dan thrust it towards me. I took it.

'Am I likely to need it?' I asked.

'Probably,' said Dan. 'We have to show Haddon that we mean business.'

'And if he has a gun?'

'He wouldn't be that stupid, not when he knows that we work for Mr McAuley.'

Then why did we need knives? Dan sounded like he was one hundred per cent sure this Haddon guy wouldn't put up a fuss or a fight. But fear or desperation often drove people to do things that stupidity alone would never make them consider.

'Once you tell Haddon who you work for, surely you won't need any kind of hardware?' I pointed out.

'It's for protection, just in case.'

I stuck the knife in my jacket pocket.

'I'll get my jacket,' Dan said, heading into his house.

The moment his back was turned, the mask-like expression on my face slipped. My friend, Dan. The friend to all – if the price was right and it didn't cost him anything. And I had to hide my true feelings because I still needed him. Hiding my true feelings was so hard, but I was becoming a master at it. Dan grabbed his jacket off the banister and left his house, slamming the door shut behind him just as hard as he could. I was amazed the glass didn't fall out of it.

'Is your mum at home then?'

'Yeah, and fast asleep, but not alone.'

'Anyone you know?'

'Nope. She rolled in around three o'clock this morning, pissed as a newt with some guy in tow. I locked my door and left them to it.'

We walked in silence. In a world of changes, Dan's mum was a constant. She'd been that way for as long as I could remember. There'd been a time, before Dan started working for McAuley, when the only decent meals he got were round at my house. He used to bring his clothes to ours to be washed as well, before he made enough money to pay for a washer-dryer of his own.

My friend, Dan.

'Dan,' I began, 'what's your ambition?'

'What d'you mean?'

'I mean, what'll you be doing in five years' time, ten years, fifteen?'

'I don't know, do I?'

'Will you still be working for McAuley?'

'Hell, no,' Dan said vehemently. 'I'll have my own business by then. I'll be running things.'

'So you're not in McAuley's pocket?'

'I'm not in anyone's pocket. There's only three things in this world I care about – me, myself and I.'

That I could believe.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Dan and I hopped off the bus at the High Street. It was less than a minute's walk to Haddon's bakery. I was about to walk in, but Dan's hand on my arm stopped me.

'Tobey, are you OK with this?'

I nodded. 'Let's just get it over with before I come to my senses.'

We walked in. The smell of fresh bread and sticky cakes wafted enticingly around me. The shop was bright and airy and spotlessly clean. Behind the counter was a door, half wood, half frosted glass. Adjacent to the counter against one wall was a huge fridge filled with sandwiches and various drinks in bottles and cartons. Opposite, against the other wall, were bakery racks filled with different kinds of loaves, rolls and pastries, with tongs next to almost every item that wasn't already wrapped. The cream cakes were behind glass next to the counter and they looked good. I could see why the shop was so popular. A Cross man and a Nought woman were serving. Dan ambled about looking at the sandwiches and pies. I stood by the door as we'd agreed on the bus. When the last of the three customers in the shop finally paid for her cottage loaf and left, Dan nodded to me. I turned over the sign hanging on the door to indicate that the shop was now closed, just as a Cross man tried to enter the shop.

'Sorry, mate,' Dan called out. 'We're closing until we catch all the mice that are running around over the shop floor.'

The customer – ex-customer – looked horrified and hurried off. I stood in front of the door so that no one else could walk in uninvited.

'What d'you two think you're doing?' the Cross guy who I assumed was Boris Haddon exclaimed angrily.

'It's OK, Mr Haddon,' Dan said amicably. 'Mr McAuley sent us.'

Boris glanced uneasily at the Nought girl standing next to him.

'Sophie, take the rest of the day off,' he told her.

'But, Mr Haddon . . .'

'Just do as I say,' said Boris. 'OK?'

Sophie looked from her boss to Dan and me and back again. 'OK, Mr Haddon,' she replied nervously.

Boris gave her a studied look. Sophie pulled off her hat and her apron, throwing them beneath the counter, before bending to retrieve her jacket from the same place. Alarm bells started pealing, only the cacophony was inside my head, not in the shop. No employee kept their jacket beneath the serving counter if there was somewhere else to hang it up. Leaving personal possessions on the shop floor was a guaranteed way to get them nicked. And from the look of it, this shop had a private room behind the counter. I shifted my position to try and see through the frosted glass that led to the private room, but Boris moved almost imperceptibly in my way. Almost, but not quite.

'Who did you say you two worked for?' Boris asked.

'Mr McAuley sent us,' Dan began. 'You need to pay my boss what you owe—'

'Dan, I think we've got the wrong shop.'

Dan turned to me, frowning. 'What're you on about? Of course we haven't . . .'

I tried a different tack. 'Dan, your boss only asked you to request that the debt be paid within the next thirty days.' I turned to the shop owner. 'Mr Haddon, we're sorry to trouble you. We just wanted to politely request that you send a cheque to . . . that you send on a cheque at your earliest convenience.'

'Tobey, what the hell d'you think you're doing?' Dan rounded on me.

'It's time for us to go,' I told him.

'The hell it is. I'm not leaving here without the money this dagger owes Mr McAuley.' Dan's hand was already in his jacket pocket as he started behind the counter.

I raced across the shop to step in front of him. Furious, he tried to shove me out of the way. Eyes wide, mouth open, Haddon took a couple of steps back. Dan's hand was emerging from his jacket pocket, but his hand was no longer empty. So I hit him. Less than a second later, he fell to the ground, more from surprise than any other reason. I certainly hadn't hit him that hard. I squatted down beside him, holding out my hand to help him up, my other hand also busy as it moved over his jacket pocket. Dan scowled at me.

'Dan, I'm sorry about that . . .'

He pushed me aside as he struggled to get up under his own steam.

'I apologize for the disturbance, Mr Haddon,' I said. 'Dan, we should leave—'

'Is this what you call having my back?' Dan asked with contempt, shoving me backwards – hard.

He was starting towards me when the door behind Boris Haddon opened and a swarm of coppers flooded out.

'DOWN ON THE GROUND. NOW.'

'GET DOWN.'

The orders were coming from all directions. I dropped to the floor immediately. One copper knelt hard on my back as he wrenched my arms back to slap handcuffs on me. My head to one side, I glared at Dan. Slow or what? Couldn't he pick up on what I'd been trying to tell him? Boris Haddon knew we were coming all right. And he'd set up a welcoming committee. There was only one reason for Sophie, Haddon's employee, to keep her jacket under the counter and that was because she didn't want to reveal who was in the back room by opening the door. If Dan had ever bothered to find himself an everyday, honest job he'd have been able to work that out for himself.

I groaned as I was pulled to my feet, but it wasn't so much the handcuffs or the pain in my back which made me cringe. It was something else entirely. I was heading back to the police station. Mum was going to do her nut! Both Dan and I were patted down. Apart from two mobile phones and some money, my pockets were empty. The copper patting down Dan quickly found two knives on him, one in each of his jacket pockets. Stunned, Dan stared at them. He turned to me, shocked. But we had no time to do more than exchange a look before we were both bundled out of the shop and into separate police cars.

 

Fifty

 

I ended up with an official reprimand as apparently I wasn't old enough (by less than one month) to receive a formal caution. I had trouble working out exactly what the reprimand was for. As far as I could tell, the charge was affray – which was totally specious, not to mention bogus as far as I was concerned. What it did mean though was that I was fingerprinted and a swab was taken from my mouth to provide a DNA sample. I was told the records would be destroyed after five years if I stayed out of trouble, but I wasn't holding my breath on that one. Everyone knew the police were trying to build up a DNA database of all the Meadowview residents, especially us Noughts. It was only a matter of time before the DNA of everyone in the whole bloody country was held on some computer or other.

But I knew I should count myself lucky. Dan was charged with carrying offensive weapons and remanded on conditional bail. It could've been worse. He could've been charged with extortion or whatever the proper legal term for that is, but apparently he didn't say enough to make an extortion charge indisputable. He'd had a damn good try, though. I still couldn't believe how slow on the uptake he'd been. So the charge of carrying offensive weapons was the best the police could do. Dan was taken back to a cell to await the arrival of his mum. Knowing her, he'd be waiting an awfully long time.

And if Mum was angry before, she was spitting nails and breathing fire by the time she came to get me. One look at her face, and staying in a cell seemed almost preferable. She didn't waste a breath before she started.

'What did I say to you about not bringing the police to my door?' she stormed. 'And not just once but twice in one day. Are you aiming for some kind of record?'

'I'm sorry, Mum,' I mumbled.

'Sorry? Sorry?' That just made her even more angry. 'I don't want to hear sorry. And what were you doing in a bakery in North Meadowview?'

'It was just a misunderstanding, Mum,' I said. 'Dan and I were just mucking around. Mr Haddon overreacted.'

'What were you doing with Dan in the first place?'

'Just hanging out. Mum, I didn't think it would do any harm—'

'And this is exactly how it starts.' Mum shook her head. 'Tobey, tell me something, does Dan work for McAuley?'

'I . . . I think so, but Mum, I don't. You've got to believe me, McAuley has got nothing that I want. Absolutely nothing,' I said quietly.

'I don't want you hanging round Dan. He's going nowhere fast and I don't want you tagging along for the ride.'

I looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. 'Mum, you're gonna have to trust me. Please, just trust me.' I don't know what it was – the expression on my face, some note in my voice – but something halted her tirade. She studied me long and hard.

'Tobey, what're you up to?'

I looked around again, nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

'Nothing, Mum.'

'Don't give me that, Tobey. I know you. And I know when you're up to something,' said Mum.

'Mum, I—'

'Has all this got something to do with Callie getting shot?' she said slowly. 'Tobey, please tell me you're not—?'

'Mum, I'm not about to do anything stupid,' I interrupted. 'Besides, I've got you to keep me on the straight and narrow.'

'Tobey, this isn't funny,' said Mum.

I sighed. 'I know. I'm sorry.'

'If I had any sense, I would ground you for the rest of the holiday.'

'Mum, I won't get into any more trouble, I promise.' At least, I promise I'll try not to. 'Besides, I want to visit Callie later. Please?'

'Hmmm . . .' Mum wasn't the least bit convinced, but she didn't follow through with her threat to ground me. I hadn't yet told her that I no longer worked at TFTM, which helped. I suspected that was the only reason she wasn't confining me to the house.

'So when you wake up later, if I'm not at home, that's where I am – OK?' I said, pushing my luck.

We took a couple of steps towards the door, but I couldn't go any further, much as I wanted to. And I really, really wanted to.

'Mum,' I began, 'I need a favour.'

Mum stared at me like one of us had lost our mind and she was trying to figure out which one. 'Tobey, I'm fighting a really powerful urge to explain all about the biological structure of nerves and their abundance in the human body.'

'Why would you want to tell me about nerves?' I frowned.

'So that when I tell you you're getting on every last one of mine, you'll appreciate just how serious that is,' she replied.

Godsake! Sometimes Mum was too much of a nurse. 'I really need this favour, Mum.'

'Tobey, you've got more cheek showing than a maternity ward. You drag me down here – twice – and you think you've got a favour coming?'

'It isn't for me, Mum. It's for Dan. He's still locked up in this place and you know what his mum is like. She'll let him rot in here.'

'And what has that got to do with me?' asked Mum testily.

'Mum, we've got to help him. He's in trouble.'

'He is trouble, never mind anything else,' she snapped.

'Mum, this is important. Please. He doesn't have anyone else.'

'Dan is not my concern. You are,' Mum argued.

McAuley had given Dan one last chance and Dan had messed up. For the life of me, I didn't understand why I should feel any anxiety for him. Rotting in a cell was no more than he deserved. But if I left him here, the only other person who'd bail him out was McAuley. And no matter what Dan had done, I couldn't leave him to McAuley's tender mercies. I had enough on my conscience already.

'Mum, we have to get Dan out of here.'

Mum frowned at me, her frown deepening as she scrutinized my face. 'Has this got something to do with Dan and McAuley?'

I nodded, albeit reluctantly.

'They're not going to release Dan into my custody. I'm not his mother.'

'Yes, they will,' I argued. 'The prisons and the police cells are already overcrowded so they're not going to keep anyone for longer than strictly necessary. As long as you say you'll take responsibility for him and sign the necessary paperwork, they'll let him go. Just tell them that if they don't release him into your custody, they'll be looking after him until his next birthday.'

'Take a seat,' said Mum after a few moments. 'I'll be back in a minute.'

'I'll come with you,' I said.

'No you won't. If you want me to help Dan, you'll do as I say. Sit down and stay put. I mean it, Tobey.'

'OK,' I agreed reluctantly.

I stayed put, but remained standing as I watched her head over to the reception desk. She and the woman behind the desk had a long and heated discussion which looked like it was veering dangerously close to an argument at times. Finally the officer called over one of her colleagues to help behind the desk whilst she headed off somewhere. Ten minutes later she emerged with Dan walking beside her, followed by DI Boothe, who barely glanced at me. The scowl on Dan's face when he saw me could've soured honey. He watched Mum sign the forms for his release, then we all left the police station together with Mum walking slightly ahead of us.

'Am I supposed to be grateful?' Dan asked belligerently.

'No,' I replied.

'Mr McAuley warned me not to screw this up,' he said, an edge to his voice. 'He already thinks I'm a liability. When he hears about this . . .'

'It's not your fault Haddon called in the police,' I said.

'Mr McAuley won't see it that way,' said Dan bitterly. 'So now I've got McAuley on my left and the cops on my right, thanks to that stunt you pulled. You had my back all right, just so you could stab me in it.'

The words I wanted – needed – to say were burning holes right through me. But I kept most of them inside. Forcing myself to stay calm, I said, 'Dan, since we're discussing backstabbers, explain to me why you felt the need to sell smack to my sister.'

Shocked, Dan took a half-step back. He put out his hands to ward me off even though I hadn't moved a muscle. 'Tobey, your sister came to me, not the other way round, I swear.'

'And that makes it OK, does it?'

'She said if I didn't sell her some gear she'd find someone else who would,' Dan rushed on. 'I thought if she got it from me, at least I could make sure she wasn't smoking something harmful . . .'

''Cause smack isn't harmful?'

'I told her she didn't want to start up with that stuff, but she wouldn't listen.'

'So you figured if someone was going to make some money from Jessica, it might as well be you?'

'No, you've got it all wrong. I was just trying to help.'

Help? Was he serious? My eyes narrowed.

'Tobey, listen. Please. Jess came to me.'

'When?'

'What?'

'When did she first come to you?' I said patiently. 'How long have you been selling that stuff to her?'

'I've only sold to her twice. The first time was four or five weeks ago. That's it.'

I studied Dan, my eyes never leaving his face. Did I ever really know him? He sure as hell didn't know me. Once again, all the words burning inside my head had to stay there. I couldn't even clench my fists. The definition of growing up – hiding what you truly feel, suppressing what you really want to do. Unless you were McAuley or the Dowds. I was beginning to see the attraction of their particular way of life. There was a definite appeal to living by your own set of rules. A very definite appeal.

'Dan, listen carefully 'cause I'm only going to say this once,' I said, once I trusted my voice to stay calm. 'Stay away from my sister.'

'OK, Tobey. OK,' Dan agreed.

He kept shifting from foot to foot. I stood like a statue, watching him. Ice was crystallizing in my veins and moving irrevocably through my body. Dan was nervous. I wasn't. We stood in thorny silence, regarding each other. And in that moment I knew that I'd lost him. No matter what happened now, we'd never go back to the way we once were; we'd never fully trust each other again. One day I might forgive him for what he'd done, but I'd never forget. He was probably feeling exactly the same way. In spite of the warmth of the day, that realization made me cold and sad.

We started walking again, though now we were way behind my mum.

'When did you slip the knife into my pocket?' asked Dan.

'When I was trying to help you up. I couldn't be caught with it,' I said, my voice edged with reluctant apology.

'And I could? Thanks a lot.'

There was nothing I could say to that. The silence between us continued to eat away at our friendship.

'Dan, I'm sorry.'

'No, you're not,' Dan shot back. 'Sorry implies that if you could go back, you'd do things differently. We both know that you wouldn't change a thing.'

I didn't say anything because he was right. Dan looked at me, such a look that I stopped walking and reluctantly faced him to hear what he had to say.

'This isn't about your sister, though, is it?' Dan said quietly. 'Jessica added fuel to the fire, but what happened to Callie started it. I never realized till now just how much you hate me for what happened to Callie Rose.'

He had my full attention.

'I thought you blamed McAuley and the Dowds,' he continued. 'But you blame me as well. I was the one who asked you to deliver that package to Louise Resnick and there was no way the Dowds were going to let McAuley get away with the torture of one of their own.'

'We've already been through this—'

'Yes, but I'm seeing the real you now,' said Dan. 'McAuley's driven by greed and pride and the lust for power. With you it's different.'

'What d'you mean?'

Dan studied me like he'd just had a revelation. 'All this started because Callie was shot, and maybe you even managed to convince yourself for a while that she was the one you were doing all this for. But that's not true any more, is it?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.' I frowned. I wasn't sure I wanted to find out either.

'This has stopped being about Callie. It's not about Jessica. It's not even about me. You've moved on from that. This is now about you.'

'How sad are you?' I laughed derisively. 'Is this how you manage to get through each day? By blaming everyone but yourself ?'

'If this was about your sister, you would've taken me apart the moment you saw me earlier. If this was about Callie Rose, you would've come after me the moment you left the hospital after she was injured. That's what I would've done. But that wasn't enough for you. It still isn't.'

'Maybe I didn't come after you when Callie Rose was shot because I didn't blame you,' I ventured.

'But that's just my point,' said Dan. 'You did blame me. Not just me, but me included. And you were prepared to use me to get what you wanted. It was all about you and your revenge.'

Not true. This had nothing to do with me and everything to do with what had happened to Callie Rose. She was the one I cared about. She was the one I was doing this for . . .

'So because I didn't act the way you would've, I don't care about Callie and my sister? Is that it?' I said angrily. 'You're talking bollocks.'

Dan shook his head. 'You just don't get it, do you? You're getting too much . . . satisfaction out of all this. You've developed a taste for being the puppet-master and we're all – what's the word? – expendable. That's why you're so dangerous.' He gave a bitter laugh. 'McAuley doesn't know what he's in for.'

'Dan, you're wrong—' I began, but for the life of me, I couldn't think of anything else to say.

'Are we even now, Tobey?' asked Dan quietly. ''Cause if anyone but you had done this to me, I'd be back at my lockup getting ready to do some damage.'

'So what should I expect, Dan?'

Dan gave me a look. He opened his mouth to speak.

'Could you guys hurry up?' Mum called to us. 'I would like to try and get at least five minutes sleep before work today. Dan, I'll drop you home first.'

'There really is no need,' Dan replied. 'I can get the bus home.'

'Nonsense,' said Mum. 'Besides, I told the police I'd make sure you got home safely.'

Dan and I sat in the back of the car. Mum didn't even start the engine until she'd made sure we'd put on our seatbelts. Then we were on our way. And the entire journey back was achieved without Dan and I saying a single word to each other. I stared out of the window whilst Dan's words played round and round in my head like a song on repeat.

This wasn't about me. This was about Callie.

It was . . .

'Mum, can we stop off at our house first?' I asked as we got close to our road. 'I have something of Dan's that I need to give to him.'

'What?'

'Something,' I replied, reluctant to elaborate.

'As long as you hurry up,' said Mum.

When Mum stopped in front of our house, I was in and out in less than a minute. But now what? I didn't want to hand over what I'd retrieved in front of her. I got back in the car, doing up my seatbelt.

'Mum, could you drop both of us off at Dan's house?' I asked. 'And I promise I'll be home within fifteen minutes.'

I caught Mum's look in the driver's mirror. She didn't need to speak, her expression said it all. If I wasn't home in fifteen minutes, she'd come looking for me and if she had to do that . . . I got the message. Less than five minutes later we were outside Dan's.

'Dan, you are going to stay out of trouble, aren't you?' asked Mum.

'I'll do my best.' Dan smiled faintly.

After one last warning look cast in my direction, Mum turned the car around and headed home.

The moment she was out of sight, I took out the envelope that Byron had given me, the one full of money, and placed it in Dan's hand. 'This is yours,' I said.

Dan's eyes narrowed. 'What's this?'

'McAuley gave it to me, but . . . but it's yours.'

Dan's fingers folded slowly around the envelope.

'OK?' I said.

'OK.' He turned abruptly and walked away, straight past his own front door.

Where was he going? To his lockup? What was he going to do?

'Dan,' I called after him.

He stopped, but he didn't turn round.

After a moment's thought, I said, 'We're even now.'


Date: 2015-12-18; view: 553


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