The Lornea Island Detective Club
Page 19
Anyway, the point is this: Dad uses his email a lot when he's out on the boats. I send him messages all the time, reminding him to take photographs and video if he sees any whales, and to note down his coordinates when he sees them.
So, when I look in his inbox, there at the top are the messages from me – some of them not even opened yet. And then there's the usual junk mail. And I'm almost about to close the page when a new email drops – like it's just been sent. It come from Tucker.
I stare at it in surprise. Tucker is downstairs, right now. Watching baseball. He called up a while back to see if I wanted to join him. And obviously I just ignored him.
The subject of the email is this:
Fucking Whatsapp keeps cutting out...
Then right beneath that I can see the first few words he's written, even without opening it:
Agreed. Let's go for it...
So now I've got a problem. Obviously I'm curious to know what they've agreed, but to find out I need to click on the actual message. But if I do, the message status will change from unread to read. And if Dad happens to be looking at his email right now, it'll tell him someone else is looking at his emails. Normally that's not a huge problem, as I can change the emails back to unread once I've looked at them. But I can't do that if Dad's looking at his messages at this exact moment.
So I wait thirty seconds, to see if Dad opens the email. But nothing happens. That means he's either sailed out of range, or he's not looking at his phone. Maybe they had to haul the nets in or something. So I make a decision, I click on the message. I'll quickly read it, then change it back to unread, and Dad'll never know. But right then, like it sometimes does, our internet decides now is a good time to slow right down. The screen goes blank, and then a box opens on the screen, but without any text in it. It's almost thirty seconds later before the page finally loads, which makes me kinda anxious. When it does so, this is what the message says.
Agreed. Let's go for it day you get back. First thing, before it gets to fucking busy. It'll be way easier than hitting a bank and cash is cash. Don't stress it. We'll be sweet.
Then there's a link, and like before, it's to Carter’s Jewelry in Newlea.
I read it twice, to make sure I get it alright. And then hurriedly I close the message and right click to restore it so that it looks unopened. My hand fumbles a bit because I'm nervous, and then the internet times out, making the screen go white, and a message appears in the middle saying:
Aw snap! Something went wrong when displaying that webpage
So then I have to reboot the router, which takes about four minutes, and all the while I'm thinking, I don't know if I managed to set the message to unread before it crashed. If I didn't, and Dad logs back on now, he'll see that someone else has already read it. He'll know someone's spying on him.
So when the internet finally comes back, I quickly log back into Dad's Gmail. And I'm right. The message is still there, still marked as read. I'm about it change its status to unread when I notice something else. Now there's a little arrow symbol next to the email. That means that something else has changed. Someone's replied to the message. That means Dad's seen it and he's replied to Tucker. And I can see the reply too, all I have to do it go to Dad's 'sent items box. And when I do that, this is what Dad's said:
I can't believe I'm saying this. But yeah. Let's do it.
Forty-Seven
Let's do it? Let's do what?
Way easier than hitting a bank? What does he mean by that?
I follow the link again, and there again is the webpage from the jeweler’s. This time I don't watch the video of the couple on the beach, but click around the site. Eventually I find a photograph of the front of the store, with its velvet trays of rings and jewelry displayed in the front window. I've never really noticed it before – I'm not really interested in jewelry – but now I see that it's quite a small place, and it's pretty impossible not to understand what Tucker means. He's talking about security. Carter’s doesn't have all the security of a bank. It doesn't have those metal screens that drop down. It won't have a panic button. It's just a little family business. And that's why Tucker has chosen it. For a robbery.
Let's do it.
And Dad's going help him rob it. My first thought is why? Dad's making OK money at last, aboard Ocean Harvest, so why does he need to rob a jewelry store? But as soon as I ask the question, I know the answer. The place on Ocean Harvest is only temporary, until the regular crew guy gets better. As soon as that happens Dad'll be back scrubbing out the fish house. And I know how much he hates that.
Even so, you can’t just start robbing places. Dad wouldn’t even be thinking about it, if Tucker hadn’t turned up. He'd just get another job, even thought it’s difficult. And I'd help too. I'd get a part time job. Or I'd give up school and get a job. A proper one this time, not chasing around pretending to be a detective. Because look how that turned out.
And look what happened the last time Tucker did a robbery? That guy in the Hounds Beach place got shot and killed. What if the same thing happens here? Half the town already thinks Dad's a criminal. Oh god…
I click back to Tucker's message and read it again. This time I notice when they're going to do it. The day after tomorrow, when Dad gets back. I've got two days to work out how to stop him
I suppose I could tell the police. I spend a long time thinking that over. But I can just imagine what Lieutenant Langley would say if I tell them I think my Dad's going to do an armed robbery. He won’t listen, and even if he did, it would just mean Dad gets arrested. How does that help?
I think about just telling the police about Tucker? They never did come to arrest him when I activated his SIM card. Maybe I didn’t do it long enough? But I don't want to do it again in case that guy – Vinny – rings back.
In the end I phone Amber. She answers right away, and I just blurt everything out. Everything I've found out about Tucker and Dad, and everything I've just said here. When I finish she's quiet for a long time. When she speaks this is all she says.
"Shit Billy."
So I know she can't think of an answer either.
When I try to sleep it doesn't happen. So I get up. I track Dad's boat with VesselTrack, in the hope that maybe they'll run into bad weather and have to go around it, and then they won't get back in time to hit the jeweler’s on the day Tucker wants. But that won't even help, because all they'd do is put it back a day. It's not like the jewelry store is going anywhere. And anyway, there isn't any bad weather, and it looks like Dad will get back right on time.
And then, sitting at my keyboard. I realize something I should have seen a long time ago. I think for a second, then I work so fast my fingers can't hit the keys quick enough.
Forty-Eight
Sometimes I wonder if I should actually be a lawyer when I grow up. I reckon I'd be good at it. Or maybe a newspaper reporter. If there still are newspapers when I'm older. Or anything at all. Maybe if we all get flooded by global climate change there won't be any world to be anything in. Maybe that would for the best.
I didn't go to school yesterday. What I was doing was much more important. At one point I heard the phone ringing downstairs, which must have been the school office wondering where I was, but I didn't answer it. And Tucker was out, probably casing out the jewelry store. Well. He can case it out all he likes. Because his plan isn't going to happen. He isn't going to rob anywhere, and neither is Dad.
When I finished working I printed everything out and organized it into three folders. Or maybe dossiers is the right word. I'm never quite sure what a dossier is, but it does sound a very nice word. So that's what I'm gonna call them. Dossiers. And in each dossier I made sure everything was in the right place, and all the images were properly labeled and everything. It took me ages, and that's why I couldn't go to school. I had to have it finished by this evening.
At seven o'clock Tucker shouts up the stairs to tell me Dad's called, and he's gonna go pick him up from the dock. It's about
half an hour, there and back. I use the time to go over everything, but before I know it I hear the roar of the truck's engine in the lane. I’m nervous now. I could easily say I'm tired, or I have to work, and Dad wouldn't think that was odd. He wouldn't even mind, because he probably wants to go through all his plans with Tucker. But I can’t do that that. If I just pretend this isn't happening then Dad's gonna rob the jewelry store. And everything we've built here will be ruined.
So I pick up the dossiers, and I walk downstairs.
Forty-Nine
"Hey Billy," Dad flashes me a smile as he comes in. He looks tired, I wasn't expecting that.
"You keeping out of trouble?" He gives a little laugh, to show that's a rhetorical question. Or a sort of joke because of everything that happened with the school gym. He dumps his kit bag in the corner of the room. Tucker follows him in, doesn't say anything to me, but goes straight to the fridge and grabs two beers with one hand. He opens them both and hands one to Dad. The remains of our dinner are on the table.
"We left you some," Tucker says. "Not much though, your boy eats a goddamn ton."
I don't answer. It's not my fault if I'm going through a growth spurt.
Dad doesn't reply to any of it though, just helps himself to what's left from the pot in the middle of the table and starts eating.
I've got the dossiers in my arms, folded across my chest. "Did you catch much?" I ask, still standing by the door.
"So so." Dad replies as he swallows a mouthful. "Tough trip though. I'm gonna down this and hit the sack."
He wants to be fresh tomorrow. I have to do this now, or it’s not going to happen. I start to hold out the dossier in front of me, then my nerve goes and I pull it back to my chest.
"We should have a little chat before you do," Tucker says to Dad, from where he's leaning against the counter top. "Just go over a few things before tomorrow."
I can't help but feel indignant at how openly he's talking about it.
"What's happening tomorrow?" I keep an eye on Dad as I ask, and sure enough he shoots an irritated glance over at Tucker, like he’s a bit pissed at him for bringing it up. It gives me a burst of confidence. But maybe not quite enough, since I find myself still hugging the dossier against my chest.
"Nothing. Nothing important," Dad says, and keeps eating.
I'm still hanging back in the doorway, like I'm expecting to go back upstairs any second. And it's so tempting to do so. To not go through with this. But then if I don't, then Dad is going to do an actual robbery tomorrow, and there's no going back from that. He'll always be a real criminal after that. I have to stop him.
"Dad," I begin.
"Yeah?"
And then I step forward and drop the dossier on the table.
"Dad. I know what you and Tucker are planning to do tomorrow. And I'm not gonna let you do it."
There's a roaring empty silence. Like standing by a waterfall. I can sense how their attention has focused right onto me. Dad's just frozen, his fork loaded with food and half way up to his mouth.
"What's that Bill?" Dad says, his voice is calm, except for a slight waver he can’t control.
"I said I know what you're planning to do. At the jewelry store."
Dad lowers the fork back down to the plate. His forehead is knotted in confusion.
"How'd you know?"
"Because I've been spying on you. And on Tucker. So I know he's a criminal. I know he uses a fake name, and that he's on the run from the police. And I know he murdered a security guard in a place called Hounds Beach..." As I say this part Tucker spits out the beer he's drinking, so that it goes all over the floor, and some of it over Dad. But I don't stop. I can't, not now I've started.
"And I know how you're planning to rob Carter’s jewelry story in Newlea tomorrow. And I was going to go to the police, but I didn't think they'd listen to me, so I thought the best thing to do was tell you how I know about it and beg you not to do it..."
There's that silence again. But deeper and longer this time. Dad angles round to look at Tucker, like he can't believe I said all this. But then he wheels back to me.
"The hell are you talking about, Bill?"
He glowers at me, and then sends a desperate glance across at Tucker. And I can't believe it, because I see he's going to deny it. Only I can believe it, because I knew he would. It’s why I had to make my dossiers. So I hand one to Tucker, then give the other to Dad, and then open my copy.
"OK. Page one. When Tucker first arrived he lied about not having a cell phone, and when I checked I discovered he had identity documents in the name of Peter Smith. That's the name he goes under now – but he can't use it with you, because you know his real name from when you were kids. So he’s not using it now. Page two. Tucker had to keep his phone switched off, because the police were tracking it, so he was breaking into my room to use the internet on my computer. So I installed software that made it record video of whoever used it." I put a full page image of Tucker sitting at my laptop in the dossier. I deliberately chose a not-very-flattering one either, he was picking his nose at the time.
"Page three. These are the websites Tucker was looking at. They’re all about a robbery of a jewelry store in Hounds Beach. Why would he so interested in this robbery, if he wasn't involved?" And what I've put on page three are all the articles from the newspapers about what happened to the security guard. The first ones about how he was shot, and then how he'd died later in hospital.
"Page four is..."
"Whoa Billy! What the fuck is this? What the fuck are you doing?" Dad interrupts me, and he has to do it really loud because I can't really hear anything too well. I'm kind of getting a bit emotional.
"Page four is..." I try to go on but it's hard to see because there's tears in my eyes.
"Billy stop!"
"...Is another still from the camera on my computer. This one shows Tucker on the old phone he pretended not to have. And then you can see on the next page how he smashes it up. And then there's the messages that he got on the phone, which I found when I recovered the SIM card..."
"Billy that's enough."
"...They show... They show this guy called Vinny who's desperate to know where Tucker is. And I wondered if he might be Tucker's probation officer or something, only he said wasn't a probation officer when I spoke to him, he sounded more like a gangster or something so..."
"Billy!"
"Then the last page, that's all the messages that Tucker's been sending you. About the jewelry store in Newlea, and how you're going to rob it..."
I feel the dossier smashed out of my hands, and the blow knocks me back against the wall.
"Dad, don't do it. Please don't do it. If you do it you're gonna get caught, and this time they're gonna be right. All the people who say you're a murderer and a criminal. And they're going to send you to jail.
"And I don't want them to send you to jail."
Fifty
"Billy you got this wrong. You got this all wrong."
I've stopped crying. At least, mostly I have. I can still feel how wet my face is. And I can feel the edge of the door hard at my back. Dad was right in front of me, but now he's backed off. His face is white, even with the tan he's got from being outside all week. It's like that's just dropped away.
"You've – I don't know how the fuck you've... But you've got this all wrong."
The way he says it, I want to believe him. Dad slowly flicks through his copy of my dossier. It's like he doesn't know where to start, but eventually he goes right to the end.
"This thing tomorrow. It's not a... It's not a robbery. I don't know where you... I don't know why you'd even think that?"
"Way easier than hitting a bank." I know Tucker's email by heart, so I recite it back to him. "And then you reply. ‘Let's do this’."
"That's... Jesus Billy. The fuck are you like? That's..."
He turns away and runs a hand through his hair.
"That's... Look I was gonna tell you. But not until we'd got
it in the bag. Because it's such a goddamn long shot on this fucking island where no one gives you a fucking chance."
He breathes hard for a moment. Then turns back to me.
"We aren't gonna rob it. We're gonna try and raise a deposit. For a loan."
I try to make sense of this, but it's hard. "A loan?"
"Yeah. Tucker's been digging around, trying to find someone – anyone – who'd be willing to take some second hand jewelry as security for a loan. It ain't easy to do. When you got no track record, when you’re guys like us…"
I screw up my face in confusion. "Why do you need a loan?"
Dad hesitates, then gives a deep sigh.
"For a boat Billy. We're gonna go in together and buy out the Ocean Harvest."
My head is spinning with all this. Is Dad making this up? Just on the spot, to hide what he's really doing? But if so, how come he's thought of it so quick? Dad's not the most imaginative guy you'd ever meet.
"You want to buy Ocean Harvest?"
"Yeah. I didn't want to tell you until I was sure we could raise the cash. But Tucker and me, when we were kids, we always dreamed that one day we'd run a boat together. If you have two skippers you can alternate, make sure the boat’s always out working. It makes good business sense."
I stare at Dad, I still don't know whether to believe him.
“Billy, I know you don’t like it when I’m away, so I thought it would help if Tucker was able to keep an eye on you, when I’m at sea. He won’t always be living here. He’ll get his own place, soon as we get the boat running and get some money coming in. But he’ll be able to look in from time to time. Make sure you’re OK.”