Danger by Association: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 3

by Heather Burnside

  Raeni knew Rita had told her not to phone unless she had any news. Rita had also said she would get in touch if she had any information. But surely there was no harm in checking. They must have found out something by now.

  ***

  Friday 21st June 1996 – Night

  It was night-time when Rita, Yansis and John arrived at the abandoned school building. A quick look through the car window verified John’s statement that it had been derelict for some time.

  It was an old building, its red bricks weathered and discoloured from decades of pollution. Someone had attempted to board up the lower windows, but the upper ones were mainly broken, the jagged edges of the windowpanes forming fantastical shapes. The concrete ground was cracked; weeds and moss battled for supremacy amongst the crevices, advancing upwards into the walls.

  Rita surveyed the building, a feeling of dismay washing over her. “I can’t see them using this place as a base. I think you’ve been had, John.”

  “You never know. It’s best to check it out to be on the safe side. I’ll lead the way. Keep quiet while we’re inside though. I’d rather take them by surprise than let them know we’re coming. You OK with this, Yansis?”

  Yansis nodded but Rita suspected he would have preferred to stay in the car. Wouldn’t they all? But they might find the answer to where Daniel was within that building. So, even though her senses screamed at her to keep away, she knew she couldn’t.

  They stepped out of the car.

  The school was surrounded by a wire mesh fence about two metres high and supported by battered concrete posts. The mesh had been dragged down in places and there were holes cut through so it wasn’t difficult to find a way into the school grounds. They trod carefully, avoiding the rubble and dog faeces while they tiptoed round the building searching for a way in.

  Round the back of the school, John found a piece of hardboard which was loose against one of the windows. Rita wondered whether somebody had deliberately worked it loose to get into the building. John prised the board away from the window and it gave easily, revealing an open space where the glass had been removed.

  “Follow me,” he whispered, climbing over the ledge. Rita was glad she was wearing jeans.

  A few more seconds and they were all inside. Rita scanned the room as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Their makeshift entrance led into a classroom. The place had an eerie feel to it and Rita shuddered.

  There were no longer any desks or chairs, but in the half-light she could see cupboards lining one of the walls. The doors of one cupboard were hanging off, its contents spilling out onto the dusty classroom floor. She was surprised the cupboards still contained old books and papers; this seemed to emphasise the state of abandon.

  They crept through the classroom and into a long corridor. Here a strong smell of urine assailed them. The ceiling was high with small skylights. This meant that there was more light here than in the classroom, but in the gloom of night it cast strange shadows on the walls, which unnerved Rita.

  In the distance she could hear weird noises; a tapping, and a faint gushing sound, perhaps from running water. She also thought she heard the murmur of voices but it was difficult to tell.

  The corridor had several doors along either side, which Rita assumed were classrooms, and it opened out at the far end. There were only two doors separating them from the nearest end.

  “Stick together,” whispered John. “We’ll try these two rooms first then turn back and try the others. Yansis, can you take up the rear?”

  They set off in single file with John taking the lead, Rita in the middle and Yansis behind. In the ominous silence she could pick out the sound of her own breathing, and feel her heart beating rapidly. Rita’s senses were primed to detect any other noise and movement. Her muscles were so taut that when the ringing of her phone broke the silence, she jumped with shock.

  As she pulled the phone from her pocket and pressed the call receive button, she heard a piercing screech from behind. Rita spun around and saw a shabbily dressed man yelling dementedly. His grimy fingers were clasped round Yansis’s throat, and Yansis was struggling to breathe. He tried vainly to fight him off.

  Rita pushed the mobile into her pocket. She stepped forward, the adrenalin pulsing through her body.

  “Get off him!” she yelled, rushing towards the man. Her action caught the man’s attention. He released his hands from Yansis’s throat and closed in on her, his face centimetres away. As he gripped her arm, she took in his crazed expression. He was snarling like a dog, and Rita recoiled at his rancid breath and rotten teeth.

  While Yansis gasped for breath, John turned and advanced. He withdrew his gun and pointed it at the man. “Get off her! Back off. Now!” he ordered.

  John’s booming voice unsettled the man who sidestepped, crashing into Rita and causing the phone to tumble out of her pocket and crash to the ground. The man paused for a moment, staring at John through wild eyes. He eased the pressure but didn’t let go straightaway.

  John continued to level the gun.

  “You heard! Let her go or I’ll shoot. And I fuckin’ mean it.”

  The man carried on staring, a perplexed expression on his face. Then he dropped his hands, and his contorted features relaxed.

  “Do you like Piccadilly Radio?” he asked randomly, before stepping back, his actions haphazard as though he wasn’t in control of his own movements.

  It was a strange question under the circumstances, especially since the local radio station had stopped trading under that name almost a decade ago.

  “What the hell is he on about?” asked Rita, moving behind John. “Come here Yansis. He’s a fucking idiot!”

  The man was obviously deranged, and she wasn’t going to take any chances. To her relief, he began walking away. She cringed, mentally reliving the encounter as she eyed his tatty clothing and manky hair.

  Once she was out of his reach, Rita bent and picked up her phone. She eyed the screen to see who the caller was, but the line was dead. She didn’t recognise the last number from the list of callers either. Rita switched off the phone and put it back inside her pocket.

  When the man had walked a few metres, he turned around and shouted, “You can’t beat a bit of Slade. It’s CHRISTMAS!!!” His voice grew to deafening proportions, startling Rita.

  He carried on walking away from them, saying, “I’m off to see my mates. I’ve got loads of mates, me.”

  “Jesus Christ! He’s a bleedin’ nutcase,” said Rita, masking her unease in her customary manner.

  “Alcy,” said John. “The booze has probably addled his brain. Either that or drugs, or both.”

  “Alcoholic,” Rita confirmed in response to Yansis’s confused look at John’s use of the word ‘alcy’. After a few seconds to recover, she asked John, “What now?”

  “We’ll follow him. See if he leads us to these ‘mates’. I want to find out who they are. But be careful. He might not be as daft as he seems. ‘Christmas’ might be a coded warning to whoever else is in the building.”

  Rita’s unease turned to dread. If the rest of his mates were as unhinged as him then she didn’t fancy meeting them. Nevertheless, they followed the man, ignoring the adjacent classrooms for now.

  When they reached the end of the corridor, it led into a hall. There were larger skylights in the roof, which meant that this was the lightest room in the building. This would have been the area where school assemblies were held years previously. It was easy to spot a group of men huddled around the far corner. Rita estimated that there must be at least ten of them, if not more.

  Her heart plummeted. She knew that if anyone came from the classrooms they had passed, they would be surrounded. Their best bet would be to move into the centre of the hall making it more difficult for anyone to ambush them. John had pre-empted her thoughts, and she and Yansis followed his lead.

  “Keep an eye on the back of the hall,” she whispered to Yansis, “So you can warn John if anybody comes at us from behind.�
�

  She watched John, noting his hand in his pocket, wrapped around his gun and ready if needed, she assumed. The man was now with his friends. They had a camp of sorts. Sleeping bags, blankets, bottles and other supplies littered the wooden floor as well as waste from food and drink, which was strewn chaotically around the encampment. The men were sitting around a camping stove on wooden boxes and crates, drinking and chatting.

  As Rita, John and Yansis approached, the men watched.

  “What the fuck do you want?” asked one of them, as they drew nearer. “You’re not one of our lot. Fuck off!”

  Rita presumed that he was the leader. He was about twenty-five with long straggly hair almost to his shoulders, wearing a tracksuit top and jeans. It was obvious that this place was used as a doss house for the homeless rather than a gangsters’ headquarters.

  “Come on, John, let’s go. He’s obviously not here,” she said, the disappointment evident in her voice as she prepared to leave.

  Chapter 22

  Friday 21st June 1996 – Night

  Rita had underestimated John’s persistence, or perhaps it was the police officer in him that was keen to investigate further. His years of training in the various forces also enabled him to keep a level head when confronted by danger, whereas Rita was driven purely by emotion at the moment.

  “Hang on, they might be able to help us,” he said to Rita and Yansis before they had a chance to exit the school. Then, addressing the leader of the men, he asked, “Do you know where we might find Jamal Samuels or Kyle Palmer? We were told we would find them here.”

  “You were told fuckin’ wrong then, weren’t you? Never heard of ’em, so do us a favour and fuck off back to where you come from!”

  Although Rita was disheartened that they were no nearer to finding Daniel, she was relieved to be leaving the derelict building. She hadn’t been inside a homeless squat before, and it wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat in a hurry. She kept an eye on the men as she, John and Yansis made their way towards the end of the hall. They were only a few metres from the corridor when the leader stepped forward and called them back.

  “Wait! Pete, here, might know something.” Once he had gained their attention, he added, “It’ll cost you though.”

  “How much?” asked John, approaching the men.

  “Fifty.”

  “For what?”

  “Kyle’s address.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying?” asked John.

  “Tell him, Pete!” said the leader, urging a younger man to speak.

  Pete looked no more than twenty. He was slight, and had a nervous, twitchy manner about him. His face was pale and covered in sores.

  “Kyle’s my supplier,” he said.

  John sighed, turning to Rita. “This is costing me a bloody fortune.”

  “It’s alright John, we’ll get it,” she said.

  Remembering that she had left her handbag at home so it wouldn’t get in the way, she asked Yansis to find the cash.

  “Hang on,” said John, then he instructed Yansis out of earshot of the men. “Take the cash out first and put your wallet away. Then walk over with the money and I’ll cover you in case they try anything. Stand a couple of metres away till we’ve got the address then let them have the money.”

  Yansis moved forward and Rita could see he was nervous. He stopped.

  “Right, he’s got the cash. Give us the address and you can have it,” said John, “but I only want Pete to come forward.”

  “What are you? Fuckin’ old bill or summat?” asked the leader.

  “No, just cautious,” said John.

  To Rita’s relief, the exchange went smoothly and they then headed to the classroom through which they had entered the building. They were just about to scramble through the missing window when John stopped them.

  “Wait,” he said. “Just because Jamal and his gang aren’t here now, doesn’t mean they haven’t been here.”

  “Wouldn’t that lot have told us if they’d been here?” asked Rita.

  “Not necessarily. You saw how hostile they were. They’re not interested in helping us. They’ve got what they wanted; cash for their next few cans of booze or their next fix.”

  “So what are you saying, John? Should we go and ask them again?”

  “No, it won’t get us anywhere; they’ve got nothing to gain now. We need to go back and check the whole place, see if there’s anything that might suggest Jamal and his crew have been here or that they’ve been keeping Daniel here. It’s best to be on the safe side.”

  Rita felt deflated, but she knew John was right. If they missed something vital that might lead them to Daniel, she would never forgive herself.

  They set off, checking each classroom. The rooms were all similar to the first one; cold, abandoned and unfurnished apart from the odd cupboard. Many of the cupboards were empty but a few contained old books.

  Rita examined a dusty hardback volume out of curiosity. In the dim moonlight filtering in from the skylights and through the open classroom door, she could just about read the words stamped on the inside cover of a copy of Shakespeare’s ‘As you Like It’: Gilston Street School, 1963. The age of the book seemed to heighten the sense of desolation within the school, and she swiftly discarded it.

  When they finished searching all the rooms lining the corridor, they walked through the hall to enter another corridor at the far end. Rita dreaded having to pass the men again. She was no longer acting on impulse; she had now had time to think about their situation, and fear had kicked in. Nevertheless, her overwhelming desire to find Daniel dominated everything else, and she did what needed to be done.

  It was a daunting experience. During their search Rita could sense a chill down her spine and a feeling that someone was following them. She kept checking behind. Her body was tense and she felt on edge throughout.

  Rita was also afraid of what they might find. She was convinced that Jamal and his friends weren’t here. Surely they would have heard them otherwise. But what if they were here previously? What if Daniel was tied up in one of these dark, dingy classrooms? Alone and scared. Could she really imagine her son being kept in a place like this?

  They scoured every room including the staffroom and toilets. There was evidence that parts of the building had been used since it had lain empty. Occasional used condoms, syringes and empty beer cans littered a number of the rooms. On and on they went until they covered every room in the school. The only signs of life were the various insects scuttling across the floorboards, and the men in the hall. But there was no sign of Daniel or anyone else.

  The men ignored them as they passed for a second time. They were of no consequence now. They’d served their purpose, and provided their next fix. Rita, Yansis and John left the building.

  “You wanna be careful with your PC Plod act,” Rita said to John once they were back in the car. “You nearly gave the game away.”

  John said nothing. They were all focused on their next stop. 11 Hitchin Street. Kyle Palmer’s address, and the place where they hoped to find Jamal.

  ***

  Friday 21st June 1996 - Night

  Raeni was becoming increasingly anxious. Rita and Yansis had been out searching for Daniel for several hours now, and there was still no news. The phone call to Rita did nothing to reassure her. Rather than give her peace of mind, it made her worry more.

  It was bad enough that Rita had ended the call, but before she did so, Raeni had overheard a disturbance. There was a lot of yelling and someone shouting, “back off”. She could have sworn she heard him threaten to use a gun as well.

  She didn’t recognise the man’s voice. It wasn’t Jamal, and he wasn’t Greek, so it couldn’t have been Rita’s husband. What if someone was threatening to shoot Jamal? He could be injured by now, or even worse. What if it was Rita and her husband who had been shot? And she sent them there! She couldn’t stand it. She’d have to do something.

  After mulling everything over
in her mind, she rang Rita’s phone again but it went straight to voicemail, causing her more concern. She decided to try Jamal’s mobile phone again. To her amazement, he answered.

  “What the fuck do you want? Why do you keep hassling me?”

  “Don’t you take that tone with me, boy! I’ve been out of my mind with worry. What’s been happening? Are they with you now?”

  “Who? What you on about?”

  “Rita and her husband. They’re coming to get the child back.”

  “I ain’t got no fuckin’ child,” he protested.

  “Don’t be telling me none of your lies, Jamal. I know you got that child. I seen your attitude when I mentioned his name. And you’ve not been gone all that time for nothing. Now you listen to me. I could have called the police, but I didn’t want you getting in trouble, so I’ve sent the parents round.”

  “They ain’t no fuckin’ parents anyway. And you’ve got no right sending them. I don’t want anyone poking their noses in my business. Now stop fuckin’ ringing me! I don’t live at home anymore; I live at Kyle’s.”

  Raeni didn’t get a chance to say anything further as Jamal cut the call. She stared at the phone for some time, angry, upset and confused. She didn’t know what to think, and she wasn’t sure now whether he had Daniel or not. But if he didn’t have Daniel, what was going on when she rang Rita? And why did Jamal leave home around the time that Daniel went missing?

  She couldn’t understand why he was so defensive but maybe that was because of the drugs. Perhaps he was angry because Kyle’s place was a drugs den – oh, she knew all about those places. She’d suspected for a while that that was where Jamal was spending his time.

  Raeni was still tempted to ring the police but she knew she wouldn’t. What could she tell them anyway? It was only a hunch, and she didn’t even know this Kyle’s address. Besides, even if Jamal didn’t have Daniel, there was another reason she didn’t want to send the police in search of him. If the place where Jamal was staying was a drugs den, as she suspected, then he would be arrested and would face time in prison. And she couldn’t do that to her son.