Checkmate

by Malorie Blackman

  The woman eyed me with suspicion. I knew what I must look like, some down-and-out hiding out of the rain and trying her luck. My T-shirt was clinging like a second skin and my jeans felt horribly cool and clammy, but they were the least of my problems.

  'I'm not joking. Please,' I pleaded. 'I need to use a phone.'

  'Go on then,' she said, still eyeing me, not bothering to hide her chary expression. 'But you'll have to pay for the call.'

  'Fine. Whatever,' I said, grabbing at the phone.

  I had a quick scan around but I couldn't see Jordy or the others. Were they back at Specimens? And what were they doing to Nathan?

  Without wasting any more time, I dialled the police.

  fifty-eight. Jude

  'Hello, Callie Rose.'

  'Uncle! What're you doing here?' Callie's face broke into an instant smile.

  I looked around as others swarmed out of the hallowed gates of Heathcroft High. There were more luxury cars and top-down convertibles and SUVs coming out of the school driveway than in the biggest car dealership in town. The early autumn sunshine shone down on the favoured like the earlier rain was just an illusion. Lots of Cross mums and a few Cross dads ensuring that their little Cross darlings mixed with the right sort. After all, you were never too young to start networking. Friends made now became the business contacts of tomorrow. There were some halfers, Callie included, but very few Noughts – which was probably one of the top five reasons why a number of these Crosses wanted their bastard kids to go to Heathcroft in the first place.

  'I've got a surprise for you,' I said, turning my attention back to my quarry.

  'Oh yeah? What's that?' Callie asked eagerly.

  'Do you have to go straight home or can I borrow you for an hour or two?' I said so that only Callie would hear me. 'The rain has finally stopped so what I have in mind will be fun.'

  Callie worried the corner of her lip. 'I suppose I could tell Nana that I'm going round to Sammi's to do some homework again. Can I use your mobile to phone home?'

  'Of course you can,' I smiled.

  It really shouldn't be this easy.

  'I don't like lying to Nana and Mum though,' said Callie.

  'It's only a little Cross lie, not an evil Nought lie,' I said deliberately.

  'I don't like that saying.' Callie scowled at me. 'Lies aren't people.'

  I almost had to bite my lip to stop myself from answering that one, however tempting. Callie was incredibly book smart and very real-world ignorant. That's what came from too much cosseting.

  'It's a little lie which isn't going to harm anyone and I'll get you home in time to do your homework,' I promised.

  'OK then. Where's your car?'

  I led the way through the throng of home-goers. No one was paying too much attention to us, which was just the way I wanted it. This was going to be dangerous enough. I couldn't risk using backup this time. Where I was going made it too dangerous and I couldn't risk the lives of any of my associates in that way. I hadn't even told Morgan. I used my key to open the car doors and we both got in, with Callie sitting in the passenger seat next to me.

  'Seat belt,' I said with patience. I always had to remind Callie to put on her seat belt. There was no way I wanted her to fly through my windscreen, at least not until I'd finished using her.

  As Callie buckled up, she asked, 'So where are we going?'

  'You'll see,' I told her.

  'You're being very mysterious,' Callie complained.

  'Years of training and practice,' I told her.

  'Why does an insurance salesman need to practise being mysterious?' asked Callie.

  'How else would I sell something as boring as insurance otherwise. I do magic tricks and play all kinds of sleight-of-hand games with this hand.' I waved my right hand at her. 'And with this hand, I get people to sign up for whatever I want.'

  'Are you good?'

  'I'm the best,' I told her.

  And we set off.

  *

  'Here we are,' I announced.

  'At last,' said Callie. She looked out of her car window. 'Where are we?'

  'Your grandfather's house,' I told her.

  'Grandad Kamal?' Callie turned eyes as big as saucers to me.

  'That's right.'

  'Which one is Grandad's house?' Callie asked urgently.

  'You see that road? He lives just round the corner, in the last house on the right. You can't miss it. It's one of only two houses in the entire street.'

  I'd seen photos of Kamal Hadley's house and its neighbour. They faced each other like gloating sentinels, surrounded by immaculate lawns and an abundance of shrubs and flowers. It was tempting to drive round the corner and take a look for myself, but I couldn't risk getting any closer than this. Kamal's house had two guards on permanent duty patrolling its perimeter at all times. We in the Liberation Militia knew the addresses and details of all Members of Parliament, plus the habits and security arrangements of the major players in both the government and the Opposition.

  'Is Grandad Kamal in?' asked Callie.

  'I have it on good authority that he is.'

  'Can I go and see him?' Callie was almost bouncing in her seat.

  'Have you met him before?'

  'No. I've only seen him on TV or in newspapers. Mum says he does a lot of travelling up and down the country and abroad,' said Callie, adding thoughtfully, 'Lots of people travel a lot but they still make time for their family. I must admit, I wondered if maybe Grandad and my mum had a big quarrel and he didn't want to see me.'

  'I'm sure that's not true. Maybe it was your mum who didn't want you to see your grandad?' I said lightly.

  I was gratified to see Callie considering this.

  'Can we get closer?'

  'I can't.' I shook my head. 'But you can.'

  'Why can't you?' asked Callie, surprised.

  'A major part of the reason your mum and I . . . fell out, was because of your grandad.'

  'What did he do?'

  'Maybe we'll discuss it when you're older.'

  Callie huffed. 'Why do all adults say that? How old do I have to be before my family start telling me the truth?'

  'Only you can decide that.' I smiled inwardly. She thought her family were lying to her. Excellent. 'Off you go. You've got about half an hour before I have to get you back.'

  'OK, Uncle. Well, the sun is shining, so that's a good sign.' Callie started to get out of the car.

  'Oh, Callie Rose, don't tell anyone that I brought you here. If anyone asks, you took the train and a bus. OK?'

  Callie nodded.

  I watched her as she walked up the wide road and round the corner towards Kamal Hadley's house. In a detached, careless kind of way, I almost felt sorry for her. The outcome of this event was almost mundane in its predictability.

  fifty-nine. Sephy

  At first, Nathan didn't want to go to hospital but the paramedics weren't the only ones to insist. One eye was completely swollen shut and he had a puffy cheek and cuts and bruises all over his face. The paramedic I spoke to suspected by the way Nathan was holding his side that he might be nursing one or more cracked ribs. But the police refused to let us go until we'd answered what they called 'a few' questions first.

  The Cross woman in charge was Detective Inspector Muswell. She questioned Nathan first, then turned her attention to me.

  'So two men pushed their way in here when you opened the door?' DI Muswell asked.

  'I didn't open the door, Nathan did,' I replied, resisting the temptation to look at Nathan for confirmation that I was saying the right thing.

  'Can you describe them please?' An eager Nought policeman stood next to DI Muswell, a small spiral-bound notebook in one hand, a pencil poised in the other.

  'Two Nought men.' I shrugged. 'One about six feet, the other taller.'

  'Were either of them carrying weapons?'

  'Not that I saw, but I didn't see much. I was in my dressing room most of the time.'

  'But you did
see the attackers?'

  I nodded. The DI looked at me expectantly but I decided to shut up. It was best to keep my answers short and simple.

  'What colour hair did they both have?'

  'Lightish-brown. Dark-blond. Not too dark.'

  'What else?'

  'What d'you mean?'

  'You watched two men beat up your employer and you can't remember more than their hair colour?' DI Muswell asked, not bothering to hide her scepticism.

  'They came in the front, I was in the back. When they started threatening Nathan, I sneaked a peek, saw it was serious and then ran out the back to get help,' I explained.

  'Well, is there anything else you can tell me about either one of the assailants?'

  I opened my mouth to tell her what they were wearing but I sensed rather than saw Nathan's frown. So I shook my head instead.

  'I wasn't paying much attention and, as I said, when the aggro started, I ran for help.'

  The detective inspector didn't like it but she must've known she wouldn't get much more information out of me.

  'And you, Mr Ealing, do you have anything more to add to your previous statement?'

  '. . . hard to see faces when eyes pummelled shut,' Nathan said haltingly, trying not to wince. His bottom lip was cut and swollen.

  DI Muswell looked from Nathan to me and back again. 'Mr Ealing, do you know a man called Jordache Carson?'

  Nathan tried to shake his head, but grimaced as his neck muscles protested. 'No. Why?'

  'Because I smell his hands all over this,' said the DI. 'Mr Ealing, I promise you that if you testify against him, we'll protect you. You too, Miss Hadley.'

  Nathan gave what sounded suspiciously like a snort.

  'We can put you in our witness protection programme,' DI Muswell said sincerely.

  'Protect from whom? Carson, or busloads police in . . . back pocket?' stammered Nathan.

  'Mr Ealing, listen—' DI Muswell began, but she didn't get very far. The paramedics were now insisting on taking Nathan to hospital, so the DI had no choice but to let us go. And not a moment too soon. My legs were turning boneless under me.

  Once the phone was dusted for prints, the crime scene officer gave me permission to use it. I phoned Ron, Nathan's manager, to come and sort the place out. Then I insisted on travelling in the back of the ambulance with Nathan.

  'How're you feeling?' I asked softly once the ambulance was under way.

  'Under weather,' said Nathan.

  I had to smile, even though the sight of Nathan's battered face brought tears to my eyes.

  Specimens stays open,' said Nathan, touching a tentative hand to his bottom lip. 'Tell Ron.'

  'I'll tell him.'

  There was plenty I wanted to say but the paramedic riding in the back of the ambulance with us was inhibiting to say the least.

  'OK, till I'm back,' said Nathan awkwardly.

  It took me a moment to figure out what he was trying to say. 'Me or the restaurant?'

  'Both.'

  'I'll be fine,' I assured him. 'I've been through worse. And Ron and I will take care of the place.'

  'Nothing till come back,' said Nathan, his voice trailing off.

  'He's going into shock,' said the paramedic, pushing me to one side.

  I watched Nathan through anxious eyes. I understood what he was saying. He reckoned nothing would happen to Specimens or us until he got out of the hospital and back to work.

  But what then?

  And in the meantime, would Jordache Carson be back to try and find out who'd witnessed that evening's events? One way or another my life had suddenly become very complicated.

  sixty.

  Callie Rose is 12

  'Just where d'you think you're going?'

  A Cross man, the size of a haystack and with the personality of a rabid Doberman, stopped me several metres away from Grandad Kamal's house. I felt so strange. I was actually going to meet my grandfather. I couldn't wait.

  'I asked you a question.' The Cross man frowned.

  'I've come to see my grandad, Kamal Hadley. I'm Callie Rose Hadley.' I held out my hand but the Doberman ignored it.

  He looked me up and down and then got out a mobile phone. Two key presses later and he turned slightly away from me. His eyes were still on me but his attention was on the phone and his conversation.

  'I've got a girl out here claiming to be Mr Hadley's granddaughter. She says her name is Sally Hadley.'

  'Callie Hadley,' I corrected. 'Callie Rose Hadley.'

  Look, Dad. I'm going to meet my grandad. My heart is skipping. This is one of the best days of my life. Look, Dad . . .

  The man turned even further away from me.

  'Yes . . . yes, that's right.' The man looked up and down the exclusive street. 'No, there's no one else with her.'

  'How did you get here?' the man asked me.

  'A train and a bus and then I walked.'

  'Did anyone come with you?'

  'No.'

  The man repeated our conversation into the phone.

  'Do you have some ID?'

  I had to think about that one. 'I've got my school library card – and my bus pass.'

  The man listened to someone at the other end of the phone for quite a few seconds. Then he flipped his phone shut and glared down at me.

  'Come with me,' he said.

  And if I'd wanted to argue with him, his tone would've discouraged me. We walked along the driveway, paved with precision tessellations. Mr Carlos, my maths teacher, would've been proud. The front door was already open. A tall Cross woman stood in the doorway. She wore a cream dress with purple flowers printed on it and matching cream shoes with a purple trim. Her clothes were stylish and expensive, I think, just like Nana Jasmine's. In fact she reminded me a lot of Nana Jasmine, except this woman was a younger version. Her braided hair was swept up in a careless bun and tied up with a cream ribbon.

  'Can I help you?' the woman asked when I reached her door.

  'I've come to see my grandad. I'm Callie Rose Hadley,' I told her. I wondered how many people I'd have to repeat that to before I got to see my grandad. The woman looked me up and down.

  'How is your mum?'

  'She's fine,' I smiled.

  'Wait there,' said the woman and she lightly stepped across the vast marble hallway to one of the rooms beyond.

  My heartbeat was loud and heavy, like a grandfather clock chiming the hour. I glanced up at the security guard, who was still eyeing me. Why was he looking at me with so much suspicion? Maybe he didn't believe I was who I said. The woman reappeared, her head down as if she didn't want to look me in the eye.

  'I'm afraid my husband can't see you,' said the woman. Her tone didn't hold an apology but her eyes did.

  'Why not?'

  Before the woman could answer, a man past middle age appeared from one of the downstairs rooms. He marched over to the woman, his expression set.

  'Are you my grandfather?' I asked.

  I drank him in, sure it was him. He was taller than I expected and his hair was darker than I'd expected. I thought he'd have streaks of grey all over his head but his hair was jet-black. Maybe he dyed it? Nana Jasmine has streaks of silver all over her head and if this was my grandad, he was a lot older than Nana. He was still quite good looking, though his face was a bit stern. He wore sweat pants and a old T-shirt but he wasn't perspiring or anything so I reckoned he was probably about to go for a run.

  The man looked me in the eyes and said, 'You need to go home before your family wonder where you are.'

  'You don't understand,' I tried to explain. 'Are you Kamal Hadley?'

  The man didn't reply, but he didn't have to. I'd seen him on the TV news more than once. Mind you, I used to just watch him, I never bothered to listen very closely. He was always talking about boring political stuff.

  'I'm Callie Rose, your granddaughter,' I grinned. 'I've come to see you. I'm so happy to finally meet you.'

  The man looked me up and down, but there wa
sn't a trace of a smile on his face. Not even a hint. As he looked at my face, his eyes narrowed into a frown.

  'I don't have a granddaughter called Callie Rose,' he said coldly. 'Go home.'

  'But—' Now I was the one who didn't understand. 'I'm Sephy's daughter.'

  'You've made a mistake coming here. I don't have a daughter called Sephy,' said Grandad. 'Max, could you escort this girl off the premises.'

  'Kamal, I really think—' began the woman next to him.

  'I don't want to hear it, Grace,' Grandad snapped at her. He turned back to me. 'And as for you, don't come here again.'

  And very slowly but firmly he closed the black gloss-painted door in my face. I stood stock still, trying to sort out my frantic thoughts. Maybe Grandad didn't understand what I was telling him? He obviously didn't realize that I was his granddaughter. But how could he not understand? I'd said it as plain as I could.

  'Come on,' said Max gently. 'You need to go home now. D'you want me to. organize a lift home, or phone for someone to come and pick you up?'

  I slowly turned away from the closed front door and stared at Max. He looked so sorry for me that in that moment, I knew I wasn't dreaming. Grandad didn't want me. He didn't want to know me.

  But to close the door in my face . . .

  'Do you want—?' Max began again.

  I shook my head. 'No, thank you.'

  'I'm sorry,' said Max.

  I took one last look at Grandad's house and went back the way I came. But halfway along the road, I had to stop because I couldn't see where I was going. I wiped the tears from my eyes and carried on down the road and round the corner to Uncle Jude.

  sixty-one. Sephy

  There it was again, that strange, muffled noise coming from Callie Rose's bedroom. I knocked on the door and entered immediately.

  'Callie,' I whispered. 'Are you OK?'

  No answer. But the light from the landing was enough for me to see that Callie wasn't asleep. Her body was held too rigidly under the covers for that. I walked softly towards her bed.

  'Callie?'

  I could just see the top of her head peeking out from beneath the duvet. Her head was tilted away from mine slightly but as I watched, a tear ran across the bridge of her nose and down towards the pillow.