Tracks

by Karen Woods

  ‘I never fucking touched her, go on, ring her and ask her. You’ve got the wrong guy.’

  His captor laughed, slammed his face down into the metal of the car. ‘You still haven’t worked it out, have you? Go on, turn round and look at me properly and see if you can work it out then.’ The officer’s eyes were dancing. He couldn’t wait for Donny to put two and two together.

  Donny’s heart was racing, He had to do anything he could to try and talk his way out of this. He stopped struggling and tried to stay calm.

  He turned slowly and looked at the copper blankly. ‘So what, we met the night some toerag glassed my car. You can stop fucking about playing games and tell me who you are.’

  The officer moved his face close to Donny’s so that he could feel his breath, hot against his cold skin.

  ‘Little Trevor Beats has done OK for himself, hasn’t he, Donny?’

  Donny’s heart thudded. Trevor Beats. The bully from his schooldays who’d made his life a misery.

  ‘You? You always were a fucking nutter, mate. Sack that, get my solicitor on the blower, this is a stitch up. You lot have set me up, fucking pigs.’

  Beats read him his rights and pushed Donny back against the car, making sure he could hear him as he pulled his head back by his hair and looked directly into his eyes. ‘I’ve been watching you for a long time. I know about the Blackpool team, about the kids you have dealing for you. I know everything. You are going to jail for a long, long, stretch Donny Knight. So it looks like I have the last laugh after all doesn’t it?’

  Donny was struggling now, yelling at the top of his voice. Another officer came over and showed Beats the pile of notes and the package of drugs that he’d found in the car. Beats nodded. As the officer went back to the search, Beats checked that no one could hear him before addressing Donny again.

  ‘You’re going to lose everything – just like I did, you wanker. You left me with no friends, no honour, nothing. You took it all from me and I promised that one day you would know exactly how that feels. It’s been a long time coming but revenge is sweet, Donny Knight, and it tastes good.’ He licked his lips.

  Donny was flailing as he tried to kick out. ‘You were a bully, a dirty prick who picked on vulnerable kids. You got what was coming to you. You made my life a misery for years, but it wasn’t just mine, was it? Lots of kids. But I was the one who stood up to you – where is the crime in that, you twisted fuck?’

  Trevor laughed. ‘Vulnerable kids? You mean like the ones you have travelling up and down the country selling drugs? And you a headteacher – the media are going to love this. You’re going to pay, sunshine.’

  Donny was still trying to fight back, but he didn’t stand a chance. He was surrounded now. Eventually he slid back down against the patrol car and sat slumped on the ground.

  He heard the clip clip of high heels on the pavement. Beats gestured to the other officers to leave him for a minute.

  Susan. His heart leapt when he saw her. But why was she here? A cold trickle of fear ran down his spine.

  She smiled and bent her head down so Donny would get a proper look at her before she whispered into his ear. ‘Hi, babes, doesn’t look like you’re having a good night, does it? Did you think you could get one over on me, you and your fancy piece? Trevor has told me all about Melanie so don’t waste your breath. You’re a dirty no-good bastard and I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. You don’t even know how to tell the truth. You told me your money came from gambling, you lying, cheating cunt. And all this time you’ve been giving me fucking dirty money to put through the salon. Drugs and kids, Donny – it’s the lowest of the low. I knew you did things your own way – but I always thought your heart was in the right place. We get results, that’s what you always said about Second Chance. But you didn’t care, did you? Not about me and certainly not about those kids.’

  She turned to face Beats. ‘I want the money he had and the keys to the car, as we agreed.’ She smiled. ‘We work well together, Trevor. And looks like I’m single again now.’ She held out her hand as Trevor dropped the car keys into it.

  Trevor chuckled. ‘You’re right. Looks like you are.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘What a day, I’ve caught Donny Knight red-handed and watched him get his heart stamped on. That’s what you call a great day at the office.’

  Donny was screaming now. ‘Susan, how can you do this to me, to us? Please, Suze, don’t believe a word he’s said. He’s a fucking psycho. He always was. I’m not lying this time, please help me. The money was for us. To give you the life you deserve. And the kids? I gave them a chance to earn more money in a month than most of them would in a year in dead-end jobs. I didn’t plan it all – but once I saw what life was really like for these kids, I realised if I didn’t do it, they’d soon end up working for much more dangerous men than me. I paid them, I gave them structure, responsibility – and told them never to sample the goods. It sounds bad, I know, but you loved the life it gave us …’

  His wife looked at him. She leant in and looked deep into his eyes, smiling.

  ‘Rot in jail,’ she hissed as she spat in his face and walked away.

  Beats whistled for the other coppers to come back over and within seconds Donny was launched into the back of the police van as he nodded at his colleagues. ‘Cheers, lads, I owe you big time. If you ever need help, I’ll have your back. The money’s gone to his missus so keep that off the record but the drugs will be used as evidence. Enough evidence to lock that cunt up for a very long time. Great job, lads, great result.’

  The team had done well tonight. With the video footage Beats already had of Donny collecting drugs and talking to other dealers, he was fucked.

  Banging, kicking, screaming from inside the police van. ‘You fucking wankers, you pricks, get me the fuck out of here. Get my solicitor. This is a stitch up. You’ve set me up. Get me out of here! Trevor, you twisted bastard, you’ll pay for this, trust me, as long as I’ve got a breath left in my body, you’ll pay for this so watch your back.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Donny Knight sat in the dock at Manchester Crown court cracking his knuckles. He was thin, unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. He glanced over to the public gallery where he could see the reporters – eager, pens poised, waiting for the gory details. He could imagine the headlines, ‘Headteacher turned drugs mastermind, his students running county lines …’

  Donny’s solicitor had told him straight that he was going to get a custodial sentence today, no matter what. And not a short one either. If he was lucky, he would get a seven stretch. If he was lucky. They were likely to throw the book at him, make an example of him, a statement to the public that no matter who you are, you cannot dodge the law.

  Donny dropped his head into his hands as he watched the prosecution team talking. They kept looking over at him and shaking their heads, judging him, looks of disgust.

  When he’d seen all the evidence they held against him, he knew there was nothing he could do to deny it – he threw his hand in and pleaded guilty at the earliest opportunity. He claimed he had lost a load gambling, had to sell drugs to clear his debts. The coppers had laughed back in his face. Did he think they were born yesterday? He knew exactly what he was doing and now he was going to pay the price. He’d lived like a king for years, never wanted for anything, had the best of everything. But now he was going to face the music.

  The news that their headteacher was a drug dealer devastated his pupils. If they couldn’t trust someone like him, who could they trust? He’d abused his role and let every one of the kids down. He’d picked off the ones who might be useful to him and groomed them as drug runners – in that way he was no different from the criminals they had been warned about on the streets. They’d seen Donny as a responsible adult – often the only one in their lives – who banged on every day about the choices they made and how they would affect them in the future, ye
t here he was licking shot. What a hypocrite. The shockwaves reverberated around the school.

  Tina Davies, former deputy head, had been found dead. ‘Accidental overdose’ was the official line but darker rumours circulated the school. In fact the only person who’d seemed to have had any luck recently was the old cook, Rita. She wrote a postcard to tell them how she’d come into some money, and buggered off to a villa in Turkey. Said she needed the sunshine to recover from surgery for something.

  After Donny’s arrest half the kids in the school had requested counselling. It was the last straw, too much for some of them to take in. They had a deputy head who’d died and a drug baron for a headteacher. Small wonder they needed someone to talk to.

  Some pupils never made it back in. Amelia was occasionally spotted outside the school gates, but she’d never crossed the threshold since she’d reappeared. Pretty soon she’d be pushing a buggy by the looks of things.

  Frankie had been nowhere to be seen since Donny had been banged up. Word on the street was that he’d been seen getting on a train to Blackpool.

  Nancy Parker had given a statement to the police too. She was on the ball that one, worked out that Donny was a wrong ‘un when she clocked his car in Blackpool when she was off on one of her jaunts. Noted down his registration and everything and checked it when she was back. She told everyone about it too; she was the detective here, not the police. Female intuition she called it, but in another life she’d have made a pretty good copper, she said to her boyfriend, Ged.

  But we don’t get another life, is what Ged had told her. This life was all they had, and you had to play the cards you’d been dealt. That was why he’d not gone back to Second Chance. Nancy didn’t ask where his cash came from, and now his dad was back on the scene Ged was happier – if sometimes a bit elusive. Kids like them, Nancy knew, had to make their own luck even if that meant breaking a few rules.

  Justice Wilson walked into the courtroom and everyone stood up. He looked a right sour-faced fucker – Donny gulped. As the judge sat down, he peered over his gold-rimmed glasses at the courtroom, poured himself a glass of water and opened the file in front of him. It seemed to be happening in slow-motion, prolonging Donny’s agony. The noise in the courtroom subsided; you could have heard a pin drop. The reporters sat on the edge of their seats, keen to get the story ready for the evening news. Donny was asked to stand up and confirm his details. He swallowed hard, you could hardly hear him speak. Two heavy-set security guards stood close to the dock. If Donny was going to kick off, they’d be on him in seconds. They’d already manhandled him into the courtroom. He’d called them every name under the sun.

  Donny sat back down and leant forward in his seat. He knew his life would never be the same again. He’d spend his life banged up, always having to look over his shoulder. The days that lay ahead were dark and depressing. He’d be an old geezer by the time he got out. If he got out.

  The judge opened with a summary of the case. It seemed to Donny that he was relishing it, going on about how this man had been alleged to have preyed on young teenage boys to run his empire. The prosecuting barrister laid it on even thicker, talked about the evils of drugs, how they wrecked homes and stole children from parents. And there in the front row sat Susan, savouring the scene of her husband in the dock. Donny looked at her and clenched his teeth together. This was what betrayal tasted like. Some might say it was a taste of his own medicine but for Donny, it was just confirmation of what he’d always known inside: you’re on your own in this life. If you don’t look out for yourself, as sure as shit, no one else will.

  Susan was flanked by her brothers and they all glared down at Donny. He’d got off lightly in their eyes, he was a very lucky man.

  Donny’s defence barrister tried to be positive as he summed up, but there was no way he could sugar-coat what his client had done. He told the court about the good things Donny had done with his life, the difference he’d made to so many children with their education, but the truth was there for everyone to see. Donny was a drug dealer and any good work he’d done in the community meant nothing anymore because of what he was being sentenced for today.

  When he’d finished his summary, the barrister sat down and reached for a cold glass of water.

  The judge was ready for sentencing now and asked Donny to stand up. Not so easy; Donny’s legs buckled and for a few seconds he could barely feel them. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, and whispered under his breath. Maybe he was asking the Lord above for forgiveness and to be spared from a long time behind bars. But not even God almighty could help Donny now.

  The judge cleared his throat and looked over his glasses. His body language made it clear that justice would be served here today. The public interest in the case had – inevitably – been huge and the media were hungry for more. He wanted to make a point. He had zero tolerance for crimes of this nature and anyone who ever came before him should know that. He was stern as he addressed the accused. ‘Donny Knight, you abused your position as a headteacher at the school where you worked. You have preyed on young vulnerable children to build your empire and put their lives at risk for your own gain. You are a weak man whose greed for designer labels and expensive cars has destroyed any sense of right and wrong. My sentence is a message to others so that they understand that crime does not pay, no matter who you are. You have hidden behind a cloak for long enough and I owe it to the public and the parents of the children entrusted into your care to put you behind bars …’ He took a long, deep breath. ‘Donny Knight, I sentence you to ten years imprisonment.’ There was a buzz of voices in the public gallery as reporters scribbled down their notes. ‘Take him down.’

  Donny was in shock. Ten years! Ten fucking long years! The colour drained from his skin and he started to shake. He pressed his hand against the glass inside the dock – as he was pulled away his fingerprints remained for a moment, before slowly fading.

  As he was led from the room he delivered a chilling message at the top of his voice. ‘You’ll pay, you bastards, every one of you will pay. Susan, watch your back because one day I’ll be there right behind you.’

  Susan raised her eyes. He didn’t scare her anymore. She picked up her handbag and left the courtroom with her two brothers close to her side.

  John kept his voice low. ‘Once we find out which jail he lands in we’ll make sure he gets a visit or two. We know enough people to make sure he gets eyes on him always, even behind bars.’

  Dave chuckled and nodded. ‘He’ll never have a full night’s sleep again.’

  As the three of them made their way out of the building, Susan spotted Detective Constable Beats. She quickly made her way over to him. ‘I reckon we can celebrate tonight,’ she whispered. ‘Crack open a bottle and then who knows?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘We’re the dream team now, Trevor, me and you.’

  He smiled back. ‘We sure are, baby, me and you.’

  The journey from the cells to his new home felt like forever. Donny arrived at the prison now ready to come out of the sweat box. The van had eight compartments inside it, each with its own door. He could hear someone kicking, screaming at the top of their voice. He swallowed hard and sighed as he heard voices in the compartment next to him.

  ‘Get me out of here, you dirty pigs, before I boom the fucking door off its hinges.’

  It would be him next. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he was filled with a dull sense of dread. The sound of keys jangling. The door opened slowly, and he could see the face of the screw for the first time.

  ‘Welcome to Strangeways, the place that makes dreams come true,’ the guard joked.

  A voice behind him made him turn round.

  ‘Right, Charlie, let’s get this lot booked in. I’m not in the mood for any drama today so best to let them know that. Any fucking about and I’ll personally drag them down the block mys
elf.’

  ‘Message understood.’

  The screw faced Donny. ‘You hear that? The boss is in a right mood today and he won’t stand for any messing about. You’ve been warned.’

  As Donny was escorted from the van he squinted in the bright yellow sunlight. As he was lined up with five other new inmates, Donny twisted his head slightly to look at them. The prisoner who’d been making all the noise was being led out now – a mental case for sure. He had long black hair that looked like you could fry an egg on it, his skin looked dirty and grey and his eyes were hollow. The man next to Donny muttered to him. ‘They better not put that fucking junkie near me. He looks like he’s riddled with God knows what, the dirty bastard.’

  Donny agreed. ‘He better not come near me either, fucking hell, I can smell him from here.’

  The man introduced himself. ‘John Stanley, mate,’ he nodded his head.

  Donny could barely get his name out in reply. ‘Donny Knight.’

  John stared at Donny, weighing him up. He moved in closer. ‘What you in for, pal?’

  ‘Dealing,’ he said. The man shrugged, water off a duck’s back. Maybe Donny would fit in here after all. A little glimmer of an idea was lit inside Donny. Prison was a system, a rat race like any other. He’d played the game to become a headteacher. Now the game had changed but if he was smart, he could still make it work to his advantage.

  Slowly, the men were marched into the prison. The junkie was still kicking off, and the screw dragged him away from the other newbies.

  John sighed. ‘This jail is fucking full of spice-heads. I hope I get shipped out as soon as possible. I can’t be arsed with jawing these fuckers all the time. I swear, the last time I was in here I caught one in my pad going through my stuff. No fucking shame. They’d have your eyes out and come back for the sockets the thieving pricks.’