Grass

by Cathy MacPhail

  But it was soon put behind us. We never stayed mad at each other for long. And anyway, we had too much fun picking a present for Aidan. We decided on buying a PlayStation game between us, preferably one we could borrow from him and forget to return.

  ‘There’s a new vampire one out,’ I reminded Sean.

  ‘Aidan hates vampires,’ Sean said.

  That decided us. Vampires it was. Then he’d probably not even ask for it back.

  We were just paying for it when we heard the commotion behind us – people muttering, calling across to each other. Something was happening.

  An old lady passed us by. ‘It’s like the blinking Wild West in this blinking town.’

  ‘What’s she talking about?’ I said to Sean.

  We didn’t have to wait too long for our answer.

  ‘There’s an armed siege going on up the Baird Road shops. SWAT teams up there and everything. Place is cordoned off.’

  I looked at Sean. He looked at me.

  ‘An armed siege?’ Sean couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. ‘This is too good to miss. Come on.’ He began to drag me out of the shop. ‘We’ll get the bus.’

  I didn’t want to go. Something told me not to go. But how could I explain that to Sean? So I let myself be dragged along after him.

  The bus was diverted because of the siege but Sean and I got off and made our way to the shops, pushing in as close as we could.

  We weren’t the only ones drawn to the scene. The streets were crowded. Everyone was standing behind a long line of yellow tape. It was hard to get a good view, but somehow, Sean and me managed it. ‘It’s funny to see the cops with guns, isn’t it?’ Sean said.

  Not only guns but protective vests and helmets.

  ‘I know.’

  If we lived in America we would be used to it, but here in our town it looked wrong somehow.

  ‘He’s got a hostage inside the shops. And he’s got a gun,’ somebody called out.

  Sean gaped at me. ‘A hostage situation?’ he said. ‘This is getting better by the second.’

  Only weeks ago I would have been as excited as he was. Now I felt a cold chill go through me. ‘Who’s in there?’ I asked.

  ‘He let the other people go – a woman and her wee boy,’ I heard someone say.

  Another shout went up. ‘He’s still got the shop manager in there. At gunpoint.’

  ‘Hope he’s getting paid overtime,’ someone else said. Typical, even in the middle of something awful someone in our town saw the funny side.

  ‘What happened anyway?’ I asked no one in particular.

  ‘Murder,’ someone answered. ‘They were trying to arrest him for murder and he ran.’

  ‘Who did he murder?’ Sean asked.

  That cold chill froze my bones. I had a feeling I knew the answer.

  ‘McCrae,’ someone said.

  My legs wobbled. Armour was in there. They’d found him – at last he was being arrested. Would he think now I’d told on him? Was he even now peering through the venetian blinds in the shop, could see me standing here, convinced it must be me who had brought all this on him?

  If I’d had the courage I would have dragged Sean away from there right then.

  The police, using a megaphone, were urging him to release his hostage, to give himself up.

  ‘Wish I’d brought my camera,’ Sean said. He turned to me. ‘You got your phone? Take a video of this.’

  He wanted a video of the police rushing the building, bringing Armour out, his arms pinioned behind his back. I could see it all in my imagination, like a movie. See the scene zoom in on his blue eyes as they focused on me.

  ‘We could be here for ages, Sean. Come on we’ll just go home.’

  Sean looked at me as if I was mad. ‘You’ve got to be joking. Miss this?’ He nudged the man in front of us again. ‘So who did it?’

  It was me who almost answered him. Armour did it. I almost said it. Almost spoke his name.

  But the man in front got there first. ‘You know that guy, Sheridan? McCrae shot his daughter? Turns out it was him that killed McCrae all the time.’

  g

  21

  It wasn’t Armour in there at all. It was Andy Sheridan. He’d been back in the papers several times since McCrae had been killed.

  I HOPE HE ROTS IN HELL

  I could still see the headline. McCrae had shot his daughter. Ruined his life, he’d said. He was glad he was dead.

  But Sheridan hadn’t killed him. I knew that.

  He was in those shops with a gun and a hostage and everyone seemed to be satisfied that he must be McCrae’s killer.

  But I knew he wasn’t.

  ‘This is dead exciting,’ Sean said. ‘I wonder how long he’ll be in there. Hey, maybe we’ll be here all night.’

  But we weren’t there all night. Half an hour later the shop manager stumbled through the glass-fronted doors. His hands were held high, he was calling out in a frightened voice, ‘Don’t shoot!’

  ‘He’s giving himself up,’ someone in the crowd shouted out.

  The man was white with shock, and an officer ran forward and threw a blanket over his shoulders and hurried him behind the line of policemen.

  The crowd grew deathly silent, waiting. A moment later there was a communal gasp as a rifle came flying out of the doorway. It clattered on the ground.

  ‘Is that what a sawn-off shotgun looks like?’ Sean nudged me.

  It took me back to the night I had found Nelis’s stash of guns. Is that where Sheridan had got this one? Bought from Nelis?

  ‘Look how they’re lifting it. Don’t want to contaminate the evidence.’ Sean sounded as if he was having great fun. ‘That could be the murder weapon.’

  A policeman was slipping it into a long plastic bag, careful not to touch it, not to wipe it off any fingerprints or DNA.

  ‘Aye,’ Sean went on, ‘they’ll be able to tell if that’s the murder weapon all right. If the bullets match, if there’s any DNA on it. You name it. The evidence never lies,’ Sean said, as if he was an expert. ‘Even after all this time . . . they’ll know.’

  But that wasn’t the murder weapon, I knew that. I knew exactly where the murder weapon was, that is if Armour hadn’t come back and retrieved it. And I doubted he would have done that. There was still a big police presence in that area. Wouldn’t be worth the risk.

  There was a commotion at the doorway. The police raised their rifles.

  ‘He’s coming out,’ someone shouted.

  And Andy Sheridan appeared. Emerging into the sunlight, even more white-faced than his hostage. He had his hands locked on top of his head and immediately he came out the police swooped around him, pulling his hands down, handcuffing him.

  But they weren’t rough with him. I could see that. We all could. It was as if they wished they didn’t have to do this at all.

  They didn’t want him to be guilty.

  He’s not guilty! I wanted to shout that out to them. I know who’s guilty!

  Why didn’t I? I was still afraid. Afraid to speak out, to unzip my lip. But could there be something else that stopped me?

  Some kind of warped loyalty.

  Armour had got my dad a job. He’d got the Bissett Boys off my back. I was grateful for that.

  The crowd stayed silent as Mr Sheridan was led to a police car. Then all of a sudden a cheer went up. A cheer of support, and that made him turn to the crowd.

  He looked tired and vulnerable. I felt so sorry for him.

  ‘I’m being framed!’ he shouted.

  The cheers grew louder. Sheridan was pushed gently into the police car. He even managed a sad smile at us. The car moved away, and then the crowd broke, muttering their support for Sheridan.

>   ‘He should get a medal for shooting that guy, not jail.’

  In spite of him shouting his innocence, they were willing to believe he might be the killer. But they understood why he’d done it. They supported him. They just didn’t think he was innocent.

  ‘Who could blame the man?’ I heard someone else say.

  Sean was reluctant to go. ‘We should hang about here. Maybe we could find some clues they’ve missed.’

  It was exactly what we would have done just a few weeks ago. But now I hardly listened to him. I wanted away from here – but not to go home. I couldn’t go home. Not yet. There was somewhere else I had to go.

  ‘Are you feeling all right?’ Sean asked.

  I had hardly said a word. Couldn’t share in his excitement. No wonder he thought I was ill.

  ‘I seem to be asking you that a lot at the moment.’ He looked at me thoughtfully. ‘You’re acting funny. Is anything wrong?’

  ‘I just don’t feel that good,’ was all I said. Not enough of an explanation.

  We hardly spoke as I walked him to his bus. He knew there was something I wasn’t telling him, and it hurt. I waved him off on the bus, but Sean didn’t wave back. I waited till his bus had turned the corner out of sight before I began walking. But I didn’t head for home. I was heading for a place I swore I would never go again.

  Armour’s house.

  g

  22

  The stone lions still stared at me as I walked up the drive. The silver Mercedes sat there. It was as if Armour had been waiting for me, watching for me, expecting me.

  The door was hauled open. And he was standing there. His shirtsleeves were rolled up almost to his shoulder, revealing his tanned, bulging biceps. The neck of his shirt lay open. He looked as if he had just stood up from the table, finishing his meal. He smiled, a big wide smile.

  ‘I’ve been expecting you.’ He stepped back. ‘Come on in.’

  I only hesitated for a second. Behind him down the hall I could see a woman in the kitchen. His wife. Her black hair was piled high on her head. She wore too much make-up. She had a nail salon in the town. Everyone said it was a front for something much more sinister. She turned and flashed a smile at me and lifted a giggling little girl on to her hip. Then she closed the door of the kitchen. We were alone in the hall.

  ‘How did you know I was coming?’ I asked, as Armour led me into his front room.

  ‘It’s all round the town. Sheridan’s been arrested.’ The room was all dark leather furniture and bookcases. ‘If you hadn’t come I would have searched you out. I have some explaining to do, don’t I?’

  He motioned me to one of the leather chairs. I seemed to sink deep into it. Then he sat across from me.

  ‘Explain what? What is there to explain?’ I wanted him to tell me. And he did.

  ‘You think I’m going to let an innocent man take the blame for something I did?’ He wasn’t expecting me to answer him. He went on. ‘Sheridan probably won’t even be charged. There’s no real evidence against him. He’s his own worst enemy. Ranting on constantly about wanting McCrae dead. Did you see that headline in the paper?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Then he goes and takes a hostage? The cops had to arrest him. They had no choice. But the charges won’t stick.’

  He smiled again. There was something about his smile that reassured me. ‘I won’t let them, Leo. But they’ll have to keep him in jail for a while anyway. I mean, he did have a gun. He did take a man hostage. They’ll have to charge him with that.’

  That made me feel a bit better. He was right. Mr Sheridan wasn’t completely innocent.

  ‘And he’s probably safer in jail anyway. McCrae’s men would be after him if he wasn’t.’ And that sounded sensible too. ‘I can’t do anything about it now, Leo. I hope you understand that. Not till I make this deal with Nelis. Then the fighting will be over.’

  Did he mean he was going to give himself up? He seemed to be able to read my mind.

  ‘No. I have no intention of confessing. But Andy Sheridan’s gone through so much already, losing his daughter like that. I’ll make sure he has an alibi. I’ll make sure no charges will stick.’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘You have my word.’

  It was the best I was going to get. I stood up. The living-room door swung open and the little girl ran in. Armour swooped her up into his arms. She giggled and he kissed her cheek. He looked just like any other loving dad. Like my dad.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Leo,’ he said. ‘Any other boy would have run to the police. I knew you would come here – let me explain. You’re one boy I can really trust.’ He hesitated as if he wanted to say more. ‘I’ll find a way to thank you.’

  ‘You’ve thanked me enough,’ I said quickly.

  ‘I could so use a boy like you. Someone I can trust – especially with this business with Nelis. Even he trusts you.’ He hesitated again. I knew something else was coming. ‘I don’t want to ask you this. I shouldn’t be asking you this . . . but this business is so important to me. I can’t involve any of my people. I don’t want them to know what I’m planning till it’s done. See, if they knew I wanted peace, Leo . . . it would make me look weak in their eyes. So there’s none of them I can trust with this.’

  The little girl tightened her arms round his neck, snuggled into him. Maybe if she hadn’t done that right at that moment I would have walked away. But a man couldn’t be all bad if his little girl loved him so much . . . could he? And I knew what was coming. Knew what he was going to say.

  ‘If I need to pass another message on to Nelis, can I count on you? I don’t know if he would trust anyone else now.’

  I wanted to say no. I wanted to run.

  And I didn’t.

  The only one he’ll trust. The only one Armour could rely on.

  Armour was only trying to make peace. He wasn’t so bad.

  I heard myself telling him, ‘Yes.’

  As I walked away from the house, past those stone lions, a voice seemed to be whispering to me. A voice I should have listened to.

  ‘Now you really are Armour’s boy.’

  g

  23

  Dad was on his high horse again when I arrived back home. He hardly noticed I was so late. Too much else on his mind. An armed siege. Sheridan arrested.

  He was storming about the living room. ‘Where are we living? Is this Chicago in the 1920s? I want my children to be safe. I want them to be able to walk the streets in safety!’ He stopped. ‘I want guns off the streets.’

  He had clearly been going on about it for ages. I saw my mum rolling her eyes at me in a ‘nothing can shut him up’ kind of way.

  ‘Dave,’ she said. ‘You talk as if you’re giving a speech. I agree with you, but do something about it if it means that much to you.’

  He sat down. ‘I think I might.’

  Wee David turned from his Nintendo game and looked at me. ‘Is Dad angry at me, Leo?’

  My dad smiled then. ‘Angry at you, son? How could I ever be angry at you?’

  David flashed him a big smile. It would be hard, impossible, not to smile back at our David.

  But Dad was angry. Angry about the guns, angry about everything that was going on in the town. He was on the phone later to Sean’s dad and all their talk was about what had happened at the shops that day. And when Sean phoned me later on my mobile it seemed his dad was just as angry as mine.

  ‘What are they like?’ Sean said. ‘He’s going on about Andy Sheridan being driven to it – a man like that wouldn’t know about how to get a gun. You get guns too easily here, my dad says. Anyway, he doesn’t think Sheridan did it. I don’t think anybody does. Not really.’ He waited. Waited for me to agree with him. ‘You don’t think he did it, do you?’

&nb
sp; It was so hard not to tell him then that I knew everything. But all I said was, ‘No, I don’t think he did it.’

  ‘I was dying to tell my dad he shouted, “I’m being framed!” when they were putting him in the car, but he would have went spare if he knew I’d gone up there. Did you tell your dad?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I didn’t tell him.’

  But I knew my voice didn’t have the excitement that Sean’s had.

  ‘Are you OK, Leo? You sound funny.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said at once. ‘Fine.’

  Sean was waiting for me at the school gates next morning. I smiled at him, but Sean didn’t smile back. His face was grim.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I asked.

  ‘You never told me you were going back up the Drummie last night.’

  That blinking cousin of his again must have spotted me. And my first awful thought – did he see me going into Armour’s house? Did anyone?

  I didn’t know what to say to Sean. ‘Sorry’ didn’t seem to be enough.

  ‘Has your mum got a boyfriend up there?’

  That shook me. I had told him my mum had sent me up there the first time. He was going to think my mum was cheating on my dad unless I told him the truth . . . or came up with a believable lie.

  Because I couldn’t tell him the truth. But another lie wouldn’t form in my brain.

  ‘Of course, she hasn’t,’ I said. ‘My mum? You’re joking.’ But my voice was weak.

  ‘You left me at the bus stop yesterday and went right up the Drummie without telling me. What for?’

  I couldn’t tell him. I only shrugged. The best form of defence is attack. The thought came to me. ‘Come on, Sean, we’re not Siamese twins – I don’t have to tell you everything, do I?’

  There was anger in Sean’s face. It went red with it. ‘Right. I’ll remember that, pal!’

  He spat the last word out sarcastically then he swung away from me and stalked off.

  You think that was the end of a beautiful friendship?

  No, it wasn’t.