White Lilies

by R. C. Bridgestock

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ Billy said, sitting down on the tiger skin rug to take off his footwear and re-site his socks. Dried mud fell from his trainers onto the cream carpet and he nonchalantly rubbed it into the deep pile.

  ‘Five minutes, then we’re out of here,’ Danny said. Billy jumped to his feet and started pulling drawers out of the dresser, but disappointingly there was nothing to pocket. He flopped down on the sofa and opened the footstool. His eyes couldn’t believe what they saw.

  ‘Jackpot!’ he screamed. ‘I’ve found money – and lots of it.’

  Danny hurtled down the stairs and grabbed the cash-filled hold-all. ‘Fucking hell, there must be a few grand here. Let’s get out, we don’t need ought else,’ Danny said running towards the patio doors. He turned and stared at his friend who was struggling with a widescreen TV.

  ‘Please, Danny,’ Billy begged. ‘For the flat?’

  ‘Come on, we’ve got to go. Go. Go.’

  Billy staggered to the doors and, resting the TV on the kitchen worktop, he picked up a clock studded with gems that sparkled in the sunlight and stuffed it into his pocket.

  Danny took one look at him.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Billy,’ he said.

  ‘I like it,’ he said with a cheeky grin.

  ‘You’re soft in the bleedin’ head,’ Danny said to his mate as he opened the hatchback to put in their ill-gotten gains. The two opened their car doors in unison, casually took one last look around and jumped in. Danny turned the key in the ignition and, as if they had just been a visitor to the house, he steered the car carefully and calmly out of the drive and into the road.

  Danny tipped the hold-all upside down and the money rained down on their living-room floor.

  ‘Thirty-five grand,’ Danny said, as he put the last fifty-pound note on a pile.

  ‘We’re fucking rich,’ Billy said, throwing the notes in the air. ‘Let’s go to McDonald’s and celebrate.’

  ‘This is just the start. Nothing’s going to stop us now,’ Danny said, belching loudly, much to the disgust of two young women with children at the next table. Danny smiled at them and, opening his mouth, he showed them his un-swallowed food. The children giggled. The women turned their heads, rose from the table and hurriedly prepared their children to leave.

  Do you fancy going out? Billy texted Pam.

  ‘If we get her house keys we might be able to double our money,’ Danny scoffed. ‘We could get a new car.’

  ‘I’d be quite happy just to give her one,’ Billy said, grinning.

  ‘Patience, Billy, you’ve gotta have patience, mate,’ Danny said. The phone bleeped.

  Sounds fab x

  ‘Honestly, Billy, they let kids have their mobiles on in school these days,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘What’s the world coming to? Roll on the weekend – and in the meantime, let’s have some fun,’ he shouted as they headed for the car.

  ‘Danny, blue and white to the right,’ shouted Billy, as they cruised the streets of Harrowfield.

  ‘Showtime,’ Danny yelled, excitement in his tone as he spun the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Foot down, the wheels screeched and, as anticipated, it immediately attracted the police officer’s attention. The blue lights and sirens of the police car were immediately behind them. The cat-and-mouse chase was on.

  ‘Tenner says they don’t catch us,’ hollered Danny.

  ‘You tight git,’ yelled Billy, turning up the music. The police car was on their tail.

  ‘Railway crossing ahead, Billy, let’s see who’s chicken,’ Danny shouted. Billy closed his eyes. The red lights were flashing. A train was due. The barrier jerked into action.

  ‘It’s coming down, Billy, yee ha!’ Danny shouted, as he pulled the car out past the stationary cars waiting at the level crossing. Billy felt the bumps of the railway lines beneath the car tyres as they were lifted from the tarmac and thrown through the air at speed. The barrier missed them by a cat’s whisker and they avoided the vehicles at the other side by a hair’s breadth. Even then, Danny continued to hold his foot down flat on the accelerator, excitement pumping feverishly through his veins. They would be long gone before the police got across the level crossing, and he knew it.

  ‘I think we better get rid of this as soon as,’ Danny said, banging the steering wheel. ‘We’re gonna be the cops’ most wanted.’

  ‘Can we afford it?’ Billy asked seriously. Danny roared with laughter.

  ‘Remember that black Subaru Impreza we saw in the garage in Tandem Bridge? We could afford that cash, mate.’

  ‘No,’ his friend said in awe. ‘Come on then, what’re we waiting for?’

  ‘Because we’re gonna fire this on the moors, report it stolen and claim on the insurance too,’ Danny rapped. ‘Shake on it, mate,’ he said, spitting into his hand and leaning over to shake Billy’s.

  Tandem Bridge Garage staff had moved the Impreza to a prime site at the front of the forecourt on a display turntable. Danny pulled alongside it for a closer look then, parking their car off the main road, they got out and walked admiringly around the prized vehicle. Pausing, they caressed the deep front and rear spoilers. Danny put his hand on the car door handle and instantly a burly salesman appeared from what seemed like thin air.

  ‘What can I do for you two?’ he asked.

  ‘Can we have a go? We might want to buy it, might’nt we?’ said Danny, stuffing his hands into his pockets and cocking his head to one side.

  ‘What with?’

  ‘Dosh, what do you think, mate?’ Billy said.

  ‘Cash, straight up?’ he asked dubiously.

  ‘Straight up, sir,’ said Danny.

  ‘I’ll get the keys,’ said the car salesman with a grin and a wink that said he didn’t believe them. What harm would it do to give the kids a look though, he thought.

  Minutes later, Danny sat in the driver’s side, reaching for the large multifunctional display in front of him and fingering the touch panels on the steering wheel. The car smelt of adhesives and sealers. Billy turned on the radio. The salesman stood at the door, his frame stopping them from closing it and his hands in close proximity to the ignition key. There was no way these two scrotes were going to drive off in it without paying, that would be his wages gone for the rest of his life.

  ‘How about a test drive?’ Danny asked as he looked up from the racing seat.

  ‘You’re pushing it a bit now, lads. Anyway, I can’t at the moment,’ said the salesman. ‘But if you get out I’ll start her up and give you a look under the bonnet.’

  Danny and Billy nodded at each other.

  ‘Discount for cash?’ asked Danny.

  ‘No, we don’t do discount. People who can afford these don’t need discount or to ask the price in my experience,’ he chortled. This was going nowhere.

  ‘Car mats?’ Billy enquired.

  The salesman shook his head. ‘They’re extra.’

  ‘Can I have one of the brollies with the Subaru logo on it?’ Billy said as he pointed to a bunch of them in a stand.

  ‘Yeah, if you like,’ said the salesman, bemused.

  ‘Deal, we’ll be in for it tomorrow,’ said Billy. Danny shook his head at his friend.

  ‘Yeah, whatever mate,’ said the salesman, locking the car with the immobiliser fob.

  ‘What are you going to do with a fucking golf umbrella?’ Danny asked when they got back to their car.

  ‘I dunno, but it’s better than nought, innit?’ Billy said, grinning.

  ‘I could have got some cash off of it if we’d haggled,’ said Danny.

  ‘Don’t be tight. I’ve always wanted one of them big brollies,’ Billy said, his smile falling into a frown.

  ‘You’re a fucking loony, do you know that?’ Danny said. He sighed. ‘Never mind, we’ve got a new motor, courtesy of Mr Porsche,’ Danny grinned. ‘Now where we gonna go to fire this baby, Billy?’

  ‘Not too far away from the flat, I don’t want to have to walk,’ Billy said, yawning
.

  ‘How about we get a taxi to the garage tomorrow to pick it up?’ said Danny.

  ‘Can we?’

  ‘No, we can’t, you idle bastard.’

  ‘I’ve never been in a taxi before, unless I nicked it,’ said Billy.

  They had travelled a few hundred yards from the garage when they heard the sound of a siren and Danny saw that blue lights were on their tail.

  ‘Shit. The sneaky bastards. I didn’t see them sneaking up on us. Hold tight, Billy, here we go again,’ Danny said, slamming his foot to the floor.

  ‘We’re shagged, Danny. There’s a red light ahead.’

  ‘What red light? Fuck that. You think that’s gonna stop me? Let’s see how much bottle they’ve got.’

  With the two cars in front braking and the cops almost on their bumper, Danny slowed down. He watched both policemen alight from their vehicle in his rear-view mirror and immediately put his foot down hard on the accelerator. Yanking the steering wheel to the left, the car lurched up onto the pavement, past the stationary cars and into the bus lane towards the red lights at speed. A woman with a child in a pram was stepping onto the zebra crossing. It was instant – no time to swerve or brake – the mother and her child’s pram were hit head on and catapulted over the bonnet.

  Billy screamed.

  ‘Fucking idiot,’ Danny yelled. His foot was still to the floor as he headed for the moors, they needed to burn the car out as quickly as possible now.

  Danny was visibly shaking but he didn’t take his eyes off the road as the car gathered speed down Snake Pass that led onto the moors. ‘You okay, Billy?’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ he said.

  ‘There was nothing I could do, Billy. You know that don’t you?’

  ‘I know. Thank God we weren’t in our new car,’ he said, swallowing hard.

  They looked at each other and cracked up laughing. Fifteen minutes later Billy jammed a screwdriver into the ignition. Danny expertly siphoned petrol from it, poured the liquid over the car and threw a match in the open window. Flames licked around on the inside and in no time at all it burst into an inferno.

  The two stared at the billowing flames momentarily before running hell for leather down the hillside through coarse grasses and bracken. Danny and Billy thought their lungs were going to burst when they stopped for breath behind a stone wall and stared back across the heathland. Dropping to the ground on their knees, they laughed in between gasps. Tears ran down their grubby faces as they watched the black smoke heading skywards. The smell of burning rubber blew its way on the wind and filled their nostrils. They coughed and spluttered.

  There was an explosion and they looked over the wall. The car was a fireball. The pair covered their heads as the debris flew and small particles rained down on them.

  ‘It won’t be long before the cops see that and come sniffing,’ Danny said.

  ‘You know what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The new car’s wing’ll have to have four stripes now,’ Billy squealed before getting up and continuing to run.

  ‘Better ring the cops and tell them the car’s gone missing,’ Danny shouted to his friend, as they stumbled together across the moor, sometimes hitting their shins on sharp stones, sometimes sinking to the tops of their trainers in swampy places.

  From the safety of their flat, washed and discarded clothing in a plastic carrier bag ready for a neighbour’s bin, Danny rang to report their Fiesta stolen. ‘Must have happened overnight,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll have to come into the police station with your documents, I’m afraid, Mr Denton and make the report in person,’ said the lady on the switchboard.

  The two set off walking.

  ‘The tart didn’t say it had been found. They’ll want to know why we’ve waited to report it missing. We’ll tell them that we’ve only just realised it has gone and thought it might be some toe-rag on the estate who’d borrowed it. So we asked about first.’

  ‘Yeah, there’re some proper bastards around here, right Danny?’ said Billy, laughing as they strolled into the police station.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bridey Tate, just twenty-one, was on a life-support machine fighting for her life, as was her eight-week-old son, Toby. Mother and baby had been going out to spend the gift vouchers that she and her husband had received when Toby was born.

  The buggy which the baby had been in now lay overturned on the pavement. Police and ambulances had arrived at the scene and, within minutes, others attended in numbers to seal off the area. The registered number of the offending vehicle had been circulated to all working police personnel by the officers in the car that had been in the queue at the traffic lights. An independent police complaints commission investigation was started.

  It wasn’t long before a lorry driver reported that a car was on fire on the moors. The patrol car which had been dispatched to the scene of the burning vehicle confirmed that it was the car probably responsible for what could prove to be a fatal accident and was expected to be the victim of an arson attack. Although the vehicle wasn’t totally destroyed when the fire engines reached it, it wasn’t far off being a blackened shell by the time they’d managed to put out the fire.

  Meanwhile, Danny Denton and Billy Greenwood stood as bold as brass at the help-desk counter of Harrowfield Police Station, on CCTV and in full view of all police personnel that were on duty. They smiled sweetly up into the camera in the foyer as if butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.

  ‘Would you mind not leaning on the counter,’ said the help-desk assistant whose face was puffy, flushed and tight-lipped. ‘We’ve got a major incident unfolding. What do you want?’

  ‘I’ve just come to report my car stolen,’ Danny said, sprawling his arms across the counter. The help-desk assistant tutted loudly. Billy stood behind Danny making rude gestures.

  ‘Really?’ said the hefty, white-haired desk sergeant who rose from his chair at the back of the office.

  ‘Yeah,’ Billy replied, stepping forward to back up his friend. The sergeant dismissed the help-desk assistant and took the relevant forms out of his grey metal filing cabinet drawer. With great care he took down details for the crime report.

  ‘Sit down,’ he ordered, pointing to a bench that was screwed to both the floor and the wall. The two did as they were told.

  ‘No one’s gonna nick this, are they?’ Billy laughed, touching the thick nut and bolt securing the piece of wood that emulated a seat.

  ‘PC Whitworth’ll be out to see you in a minute,’ the sergeant called.

  Inspector Jack Dylan walked through the foyer, glancing in their direction.

  ‘What’ve you two been up to?’ he asked the boys.

  ‘Nothing, sir, somebody nicked our car,’ said Billy sheepishly.

  Dylan laughed heartily. ‘So now you know what it’s like to have summat stolen, don’t you?’

  Danny put one finger up behind Dylan’s back as they watched him key in the security numbers to allow him to enter the station’s offices.

  ‘What’re they playing at?’ Danny whispered impatiently to his friend just as two police officers walked through the same door.

  ‘I understand you’ve come to report your car stolen?’ said the taller of the two.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Danny, rising from the bench.

  ‘That’s convenient,’ he said, looking straight into Danny’s eyes.

  ‘No, it ain’t. We had to walk here,’ Billy responded.

  The two officers looked at each other with furrowed brows.

  ‘Who’s the owner?’ asked the smaller, fresh-faced young officer who could have been the same age as them.

  ‘Me, and before you ask, it’s legit and I’ve got all the documents to prove it here,’ Danny said, waving paperwork in front of his face.

  ‘And who are you then?’ the older officer said to Billy.

  ‘I’m his best mate.’

  The young officer pointed to a door.

  ‘In ther
e,’ he said to Billy.

  ‘And you come with me,’ said the older of the two as he picked up the crime report from the desk sergeant and waved a finger at Danny that indicated he should follow him.

  ‘So, Mr Denton, I’m PC Tim Whitworth. Now, when was this car of yours stolen then?’ he said, pulling the chair out from beneath a small square melamine desk.

  ‘We noticed it were gone from outside the flat this morning.’

  ‘So, let’s get this straight. You’re telling me you’ve walked round since this morning looking for your car, but since you’ve had no luck you’ve decided to report it to us, is that right?’ The police officer said, staring deep into Danny’s eyes.

  Danny nodded.

  ‘We believe your car has just knocked down a young mother and her child on a zebra crossing, both are on the critical list. If I find out you’re lying to me I’ll personally string you up and by God you’ll wish you were dead,’ he said, leaning across the desk and grabbing Danny by the chin with a wrench-like grip.

  ‘Argh,’ said Danny, swallowing hard. ‘It wasn’t me. I haven’t done ought. Look, I brought my keys and my documents like I were told to on the phone. It weren’t me. Come on, if I’d have done ought like that d’ya think I’d have been stupid enough to come anywhere near you? Let go of me,’ he demanded through clenched teeth.

  The officer squeezed harder, then pushing Danny’s head backwards, he let go. ‘God, if my daughter, our Sara, ever brought a lout like you home…’ he started to say with a great in-drawing of breath. ‘Stay here, I’ll be back,’ he said as he marched out of the door.

  Danny sat looking around. The room was only about eight feet square. It had no windows and one door and it was unbearably warm. The walls were newly painted grey; he could still smell the solvents. Danny could hear the mumble of two officer’s voices outside the door of the interview room.