36
‘Your grandmother is waiting for you.’ Jamie spotted her first. ‘And your aunt.’ He gave Robin the quick sympathetic glance of someone who knew only too well what it might portend when too many relatives appeared unexpectedly in a place they would not ordinarily be. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘I don’t know.’ Instinctively, Robin drew back into the shadows to study the situation. Granna and Mags were waiting at the school gate. Granna didn’t surprise him, she was getting to be around so much that he was beginning to feel crowded. But why was Mags there, too?
They hadn’t seen him yet. The school yard was swarming with small shadowy bodies, indistinguishable from each other in the early darkness. The women had stationed themselves underneath the street-lamp where they could see the children clearly as they filtered through the gate.
There was something too intent about their posture; it boded no good. This was not the way Granna had looked when she had arrived to take everyone off for ice cream and cakes. No smiles now, her mouth was a tight line, her eyes were cold and watchful. Mags looked wretched.
‘What is it?’ Jamie hovered at his side.
‘I don’t know, but I don’t like it.’
Perhaps sensing herself observed, Granna lifted her head and stared in his direction. He shrank farther back. After a moment, Granna looked away, turning to Mags and putting a hand on her arm, drawing her closer to speak to her.
Bright sparks of light shot out from something glittering on Granna’s wrist. Robin’s heart somersaulted, his mouth went dry. He knew what Granna was wearing.
They had found the bracelet! And now they were looking for him! They were going to want to know what had happened to all those hundreds of thousands of pounds’ worth of other jewellery that Mr Nordling had reported stolen. They were going to expect him to give them back! Or pay for them! He couldn’t do either; he would go to jail for the rest of his life!
‘Let’s get out of here!’ He pushed past Jamie and began shoving his way through the oncoming hordes of schoolmates.
‘Where are we going?’ Jamie was right behind him.
‘Away from here!’ They circled behind the school and crossed the almost-deserted back yard, where only a few stragglers still lingered. The back gates were locked against outside marauders, but the gang had found a secret way out. They used it.
‘We’ve missed him.’ When the school yard had emptied and the caretaker had closed and locked the gate, Mags stated the obvious. ‘What shall we do? Do you think he went to school at all today?’
‘I dropped him off here this morning.’ Mummy’s voice was grim. ‘But it never occurred to me to wait and make certain that he actually went into the building. I’m no longer sure about anything that young gentleman might do. You know him better than I.’
‘Not all that well.’ Mags was miserably aware that, in trying to satisfy Joshua’s jealous demands, she had more or less left Robin to his own devices. ‘He’s only been here a few weeks.’
What had he been doing in those few weeks? He had made a few friends, certainly, but what kind? There was the cat, too. She hadn’t known about that. How long had he been secreting it in his room? Along with the expensive bracelet? And how much else?
‘There’s no point in standing here any longer.’ Mummy was brisk. ‘Let’s get back to the house and wait for him there.’
‘The house? Now? But Josh said – ’ Mags stopped. The look on her mother’s face was like a glass of ice water hurled into her own face.
‘This is a family matter – Josh has nothing to do with it!’
‘But I promised him. I mean, Josh doesn’t want us back until – ’
‘Oh, yes, I forgot. Josh is the most important man in the world!’ Now the words were like slaps across her face. ‘A little boy is nothing. What does Robin’s future matter compared to that of the Great Joshua?’
For someone who had always given the impression that she didn’t know where a belt was situated or what it signified, it was amazing how often and how unerringly Mummy could hit below it.
‘You can wait here, if you like.’ Mummy started away. ‘I’m going back to the house. Robin will return there, sooner or later.’
‘Perhaps it will be all right if we wait in Robin’s room …’ Mags trailed after her. They’d be out of the way in Robin’s room, surely Josh couldn’t object to that.
But, deep down, Mags knew that Josh could object to anything.
‘Where are we going?’ Jamie wanted to know again. He was panting heavily; they had been running since they left the school.
‘You don’t have to come.’ Robin slowed his steps, unwilling to admit that he had no destination in mind. ‘You can go home, if you want to.’
‘I don’t mind.’ Jamie looked around, recognising the neighbourhood. “Are we going to the tram shed?’
‘No, there won’t be anybody there.’ When he had begun running, that had seemed an inducement: now Robin discovered that there was the germ of an idea at the back of his mind, after all.
‘We’re going to Kerry’s,’ Robin decided. ‘I know he was seeing Old Nordling this morning. I need to find out what happened.’
‘You think there may have been trouble?’ Jamie trotted at his side. ‘Mr Nordling is a dangerous man.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Kerry was not pleased to see them. He stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him, not quite shutting it.
‘I wanted to talk to you,’ Robin said.’
‘Yeah? Well, I don’t want to talk to you. Not now. Not here. Go – ’
‘Kerry …’ an unmistakably maternal voice called out behind him. ‘Who is it?’
‘Nobody, Mum, nothing. Just some kids from school.’
‘Well, bring them in. You know your friends are always welcome here.’
‘Go away!’ Kerry said desperately. ‘Get lost. I’ll talk to you tomorrow – ’ He was bathed in light as the door was pulled from his grasp and swung wide.
‘Come in, boys,’ the maternal voice invited.
The familiar sweet smoky smell hovered in the air. Did Kerry smoke right in front of his mother? What kind of family was this, anyway? Robin was suddenly reluctant to enter.
‘Come along …’ The figure behind Kerry retreated to the warmth of the sitting-room. ‘We’ll have some tea.’
‘Listen …’ Kerry gripped them each by an arm, his fingers digging into their biceps. ‘Keep your mouth shut, see? Don’t mention her hair.’
There was nothing to mention – at least, not very much. After one quick glance, they averted their eyes from the stray wisps, but stared at the cigarette in the woman’s thin hand. Kerry wasn’t smoking it, his mother was.
‘It’s so nice to have company.’ The frail woman smiled. ‘Kerry doesn’t often have his friends around. I suspect he’s afraid I’d be a bad influence on them.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Kerry growled. ‘Don’t talk about it. They don’t have to know.’
‘Oh, but it helps to talk. Just as these help.’ She took a long pull at the joint before she waved it in their faces. ‘It’s the chemotherapy, you know.’ She smiled at them confidingly. ‘And the after-effects. These are about the only things that do help. But you boys shouldn’t use them. You don’t need them.’
‘We d-don’t, we – we won’t,’ Robin stammered. He and Jamie exchanged glances, a lot of things suddenly becoming clear to them, Kerry’s reluctance to share his haul of cannabis with the gang, for one. Not selfishness, after all, quite the contrary.
‘Mum, please …’ Kerry was embarrassed.
‘Kerry gets these special cigarettes for me. I know it isn’t easy for him.’ She gave Kerry a tender look. ‘He’s such a good boy. And Maureen is so good, too.’ She turned to smile at the girl entering with a platter heaped with small delicious cakes. Always bringing home little treats. I’m a lucky woman. My children spoil me so.’
Maureen’s mouth twisted at the word ‘lucky’; she rested her
hand on her mother’s shoulder after setting the platter down on the table and seemed to speak with an effort:
‘You’ll have tea, I know, Mum. What about you and your friends, Ker? Tea, or milk, cola, ginger ale, cream soda …?’
‘We have so much choice,’ the frail woman sighed proudly. ‘But, Maureen, you shouldn’t waste the bonus that nice Mr Nordling gave you on the house. Keep it for yourself and Kerry.’
Nice? Nordling? Robin looked to Kerry in astonishment.
Kerry made a shushing talk later gesture and appealed to his sister. ‘We’re going fishing. If you put our cans of cola and some of those cakes in a bag, we could have a picnic. Put in extra, Pete’s coming, too.’
‘All right.’ Maureen did not appear to find this unusual or unreasonable. She went off to do as requested.
Robin and Jamie looked at each other in surprise.
‘Don’t be too late, Kerry,’ his mother said. ‘It’s a dark wet night out there.’
‘It’s stopped raining and the moon is coming out,’ Kerry said. ‘It’s been a lucky day, it will be a good night. We’re on a roll.’
‘My own little moonraker.’ His mother was fondly amused. ‘Just the same, don’t be too late. You know I worry.’
‘Where are we going?’ Jamie asked. It appeared to be a preoccupation with him, but even Robin had become a bit nervous when they turned their backs on the sea and headed towards the hills.
‘The old stone quarry.’ Kerry glanced at him impatiently. ‘Like I said, it’s a good night for fishing – and my luck is in.’
‘I don’t like fish,’ Jamie said.
There was a familiar snicker behind them. Robin turned to find that Pete had joined them; he was pulling a small two-wheeled handcart.
‘Not that kind of fishing,’ Kerry said. ‘We’re fishing to see what people have dumped in the quarry since the last time we looked.’
‘Sort of a treasure hunt,’ Pete explained. ‘Once we found a big old-fashioned pram, cleaned it up and sold it to a junk dealer for ten pounds.’
‘That’s right.’ Kerry strode ahead eagerly. ‘You wouldn’t believe the stuff people throw away.’
37
Dead weight. For the first time, Nils realised the aptness of the expression. Edith weighed a ton – another apt cliché. He ground his teeth as he battled to get her from the car to the edge of the quarry. She had always been overweight. He must not be paranoid about this. She had not deliberately put on weight just to annoy him.
She would never annoy him again.
A pale watery moon was veiled sporadically by dark drifting clouds. A sudden gust of wind rustled the trees and brought down some of the few remaining leaves. There were other rustlings deep in the bushes, small wild animals hunting their prey. Or being hunted.
He let Edith fall to the ground, more on her face than on her side. In a faintly ironic way, he recognised that Edith was lying in what first aid manuals illustrated as ‘the recovery position’. His mouth twitched in an unpleasant smile.
Recover from that, Edith!
He returned to the car for the pair of sheets he had taken from the airing cupboard. He had considered wrapping Edith in them at the house, then realised it would be very hard to explain if anyone should intercept them in the car. An unwrapped Edith could be presented as someone who had collapsed and was being rushed to hospital.
Now he wished he had at least partially wrapped her while he had had a clear space to work in and electric light to see by. He shook out one of the sheets to its full double size and considered how to go about his task. Tie one corner around her ankles to start with, but leave plenty of sheet below her feet to make a sort of sack to contain the stones to weigh her down.
Or a boulder. Even better. One small boulder, instead of several lesser rocks which might slip out of their makeshift sack. He looked around, but the moon had gone behind another cloud and he could not distinguish the landscape clearly enough to pick out loose boulders.
Bloody Edith! He hadn’t had this trouble with Ingrid!
But then, it hadn’t mattered if Ingrid had been found. In fact, it was necessary that she be found. No waiting around for seven years before a court could hand down a Presumed Dead verdict.
He tugged at a big round boulder which would not budge, but the one next to it shifted slightly. He concentrated on that one and stepped back just in time as it crashed to the ground, missing his toes by inches.
He rolled the boulder over to Edith and secured it in the loop of sheet at her feet. There was a large flat rock there – he went back for it. Carefully distributed, it wouldn’t take many rocks to ensure that she sank down fast and deep – and permanently.
He lashed the flat stone behind Edith’s knees and flipped her over on her back. Now, another flat stone, with her arms clasping it to her stomach, a few smaller stones, then another boulder at her head – and that should do it. Goodbye, Edith, it was no fun knowing you.
He turned away to search for more stones of the right shape and size.
Behind him, Edith gave a small choking gasp, moaned and coughed.
He whirled around to see the half-shrouded form move and writhe, trying to free itself from its binding sheet.
No! No! It couldn’t be! The bitch was dead! She was trying to haunt him! He’d show her!
He caught up a large jagged rock and staggered back to the body, raising the rock high above his head to slam down on her.
He’d show her!
‘Oh, no! Somebody’s already there!’ The handcart grazed their knees as Pete backed up hastily.
‘What are they doing?’ Kerry moved forward, Robin and Jamie right behind him. This wasn’t a lovers’ lane type of place. ‘Are they dumping something?’
‘Can’t see. Let’s get closer.’ Pete abandoned the cart and parted the bushes. A branch broke with a loud snap.
‘Quiet …’ Kerry’s voice was barely audible. ‘Don’t let him know we’re here.’
‘But why is he throwing rocks around?’ Jamie’s curiosity would not be silenced.
‘How do I know?’ Kerry bumped against the cart as he tried to see what was happening. It moved sideways, wheels grating against the gravel.
The figure at the edge of the quarry raised its head abruptly and looked around.
They all froze, not even breathing.
After a long while, seemingly reassured by the silence, the shadowy figure returned to its task, fumbling with some big rocks and an even bigger piece of white cloth stretched out along the ground.
‘He’s getting ready to throw something in,’ Pete whispered. ‘He’s making sure it will go straight down and stay down.’
Robin began to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The moon broke from the clouds and, in the feeble light, he could almost see the man’s face. It would be a face he recognised, he was sure. There was something dreadfully familiar about that crouching figure.
Instinctively, they had huddled together, watching the scene unfolding before them, sensing unknown danger.
The man straightened up and started towards a pile of stones. Almost there, he halted abruptly, whirled around and went back to stare down at the twists of white cloth, which seemed to be assuming a vaguely human form. Despite, or perhaps because of, all the shadows, it almost seemed to move.
The man’s lips moved, he dashed away and caught up an enormous rock. He staggered back with it and drew himself up to his full height, raising the rock above his head, obviously determined to smash it down on the body at his feet.
‘No!’ Robin shouted involuntarily. ‘No!’
‘Shh … shut up!’
‘Are you crazy?’
‘Do you want him after us?’ The others tried to restrain him.
‘No!’ He darted forward, evading the hands trying to pull him back, stumbling over the rough ground.
‘Don’t!’ He had to stop him. He couldn’t let him get away with it again. ‘Don’t!’
What was that?
> Nils spun about and swayed, momentarily unbalanced by the heavy rock, his arms already beginning to tremble from its weight.
The bushes beyond the clearing were shaking wildly, as though in the grip of some localised hurricane. They gave way suddenly, catapulting a lunging shadow towards him. Then another.
Behind them loomed two larger figures. They were all shouting loudly enough to wake the dead.
People! Witnesses! What were they doing here? What kind of people lurked around a quarry on a dark damp night? No matter, he had to get away from here! But first …
He hurled the rock down on Edith, then bent and swiftly pushed her over the edge. Her faint shriek was muffled by the covering splash.
He snatched up a handful of rocks and hurled them in the direction of the oncoming figures, slowing them down just long enough to allow him to sprint to his car and get inside, locking the doors and starting the engine. The wheels spun on the gravel before gaining traction and he aimed the car away from the quarry, driving without lights until he hit the main road and knew they were not pursuing.
They couldn’t have seen him clearly enough to identify him again. Of course they couldn’t. It was too dark a night.
His heartbeat was returning to normal, he had stopped making those retching gasps with every breath, it was going to be all right. He was still on top of the situation, he knew what he was doing, what he had to do next.
Keep the appointment for that bloody radio interview. He still hated the idea, but now he could manipulate the interview to his advantage. He might be arriving a bit early but, as he was still distraught at his wife’s death and at the prospect of the interview, he would be forgiven that. He would take his time answering every question, stumble over his words, mumble, waste time, delay, and take the whole of the evening to make the recording. Keep it going until dawn, if possible.
Then, when he went back to find the late-working Edward distraught in his turn, he could say that he hadn’t seen Edith since morning, that he had never gone back to the house, that he had spent the entire evening and most of the night doing the interview. With the Joshua person and his tape recording to back him up.
To Catch a Cat Page 18
