‘What? You’re kidding?’
Aaron shook his head. ‘He said he didn’t know anything about the threats and stuff and the police believe him. The only thing he did was give us the finger that day we were at Aaron’s shop, and have a go at you for painting his van. All that weird stuff in their house is Gunner’s, and he’s gone back to the nuthouse where they put him last year. They don’t reckon he’s well enough to stand trial.’
‘Geez, that’s just great,’ Rick said, getting to his feet. Limping slightly, he walked over to where the VW huddled on the bank and then turned back. ‘But if Gunner was the one Marty slam-jumped, then why did the ice-cream man flip the finger at us the next day? And if he didn’t know about any of the other stuff, then why didn’t he ring the cops when I painted the van? It doesn’t make sense.’
Aaron frowned. ‘You know, that is weird.’
‘Mr Gunner must have told the ice-cream man about the slam-jump,’ Marty said.
‘And the ice-cream man was sticking up for his brother,’ Aaron added.
Rick nodded. ‘Right, and if he told him about that, what else did he tell him? Why didn’t the ice-cream man want the cops to know about the graffiti?’
Marty raked his fingers through the gravel at his side, leaving long gouges in the damp earth. His eyes met Rick’s. ‘Because maybe he didn’t want the cops looking too close; they might’ve questioned Gunner and found out everything.’
‘Exactly,’ Rick said. ‘And now Gunner’s having a nice holiday and the ice-cream man is still out there planning I don’t wanna think what.’
‘Oh, geez,’ Aaron said.
Rick shook his head. ‘Where’s the friggin’ justice, eh?’
‘But we might be wrong,’ Marty said. Aaron licked his lips. ‘Yeah, maybe.’
Rick scanned the water for a long moment. He seemed to deflate. ‘At least the freaks’ll think twice before messing with us again. And no one’s gonna buy his ice-cream after we tell everyone what he and his nut-bag brother did.’
A slow smile twitched at the corners of Marty’s mouth. ‘Yeah, I reckon you’re right.’
Pointing at the bushes behind Aaron, Rick said,
‘Something was growling at me from them bushes yesterday. Reckon it followed me all the way to the lagoon.’
Aaron scrambled to his feet, head swinging left and right. ‘Geez, why didn’t you say so before?’
Marty laughed. ‘Rick’s stirring, aren’t you, Rick?’
‘Nope. It’s all true.’
‘Yeah, well I reckon you were probably hallucin- ating after all that sleep you missed.’
‘Maybe. Maybe not.’ Rick smirked at Aaron and then pulled his joggers off. ‘Anyway, as long as we stick together we’re invincible, I reckon.’
‘All for one and one for all,’ Aaron said.
‘Oh man, that’s so gay.’ Marty rolled his eyes. They all laughed.
Rick pulled off his shirt. ‘Last one in the water is a stinky fish.’
‘Hey, that’s not fair,’ Aaron yelled, diving at Rick’s legs.
Rick danced out of reach and leapt into the water, the bandage still wrapped around his ankle.
Marty fell in behind him and so did Aaron, clothes and all.
The sounds of splashing and laughter, bravado and birdsong drifted on the warm summer breeze. And from far off in the distance came the merest hint of a melody: Half a pound of tuppenny rice; half a pound of treacle . . .
The Ice-cream Man Page 14
