by Lavie Tidhar
“We have to do something!” I said.
“What!” Eddie said.
Below us, Webber was still reaching for the rungs on the ladder. He looked up at us and smiled an awful smile.
“Well, do something!” Eddie said.
Then I remembered the marbles Cody had given me. I’d forgotten about them, but they should still be there…
I reached in my pocket and my fingers closed around them.
I pulled them out. Looked at them in my hand.
Then dropped them down on Webber.
His feet were still on the ramp. The marbles bounced with a gentle chime. Webber looked surprised. He tried to change position—and slipped on the marbles.
He fell like a sack of cookie dough.
There was a heavy thud.
Then silence.
When I looked down I saw that he was lying peacefully on the ground. He wasn’t moving.
I was very quiet. I climbed down the ladder and stepped carefully over the ramp and the marbles, and slid down the rest of the way.
Eddie followed.
We stood over Webber. His chest was rising and falling evenly. He was breathing.
He still had that surprised look on his face.
“Whoa,” Eddie said. “His head’s gonna be real sore when he wakes up.”
“You think?”
I felt shaky but I didn’t have time to worry about Webber or what I’d done. Just ahead, Farnsworth had turned around and the little golf cart’s bumper was aimed straight at Tidbeck again.
She stood, shaky but upright, and the gun was back in her hand. She must have scrambled for it while we were busy dealing with Webber. It was dripping with dirty chocolate water.
Her face was a frozen mask of hatred, as if she’d bitten on a bitter lemon peel.
“Stop!” I shouted. Neither of them paid me any attention.
Farnsworth revved the engine.
Tidbeck sighted along the barrel of her gun.
I began to run.
I didn’t know what I could do. I only knew that I had to try.
Dimly, I was aware of other noises, the sound of wheels crunching gravel, distant shouts. I was too slow, I’d be too late.
“Stop!”
Everything moved too fast and too slow.
Farnsworth pressed the accelerator and the cart sped toward Tidbeck.
He smiled.
I heard the scream of a police siren outside, short and sharp.
Tidbeck began to squeeze the trigger.
I ran straight and threw myself at her.
Her arm went wide. The shot rang through the hall. Tidbeck turned furiously, the gun in her hand, swiping at my head.
I ducked—just barely. I felt the whoosh of air where her arm passed. Instead she grabbed me by the hair painfully, and pulled.
“You think you can take me on, you little—” she said.
The cart hit her sideways, missing me.
Detective Tidbeck fell back and as she did her finger tightened on the trigger again and the gun fired.
The sound was an explosion, making my ears ring.
The air filled with the smell of gunpowder. I shook my head, trying to clear it.
Then I saw Mr. Farnsworth.
He was thrown back against the seat of the cart, looking winded.
Tidbeck collapsed on the floor.
The cart rolled, and then stopped, and Mr. Farnsworth slumped out of his seat.
I stepped over Tidbeck and ran to Mr. Farnsworth. He looked up at me and tried to smile.
“I just wanted to…make candy,” he said. “It always made…me happy, when I was a…child.”
Distantly, I heard the police siren again, and shouts, and running feet. Then Detective Levene was there, standing above us, and hands were reaching down to pick Mr. Farnsworth up. He reached for my hand.
“You won’t let them…take it all away from me, will you, Miss Faulkner?”
I looked into his eyes. “You need to get to hospital,” I said gently. His eyes were full of anguish. Then he nodded and smiled again, and they lifted him up and took him away.
“Detective Tidbeck?” I heard Detective Suzie Levene say. She kneeled beside Tidbeck’s prone body. She held handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for bootlegging, extortion, corruption, willful destruction of property, intimidation, and attempted murder.” She cuffed Tidbeck’s hands behind her back and helped her to her feet. “Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?”
“What?” Tidbeck said. She looked stunned. “What?”
I turned. Webber was being led away by other police officers.
“But how did you know to come here?” I said.
“Hey, Nelle.”
I turned and Bobbie Singh was smiling at me.
“Hey, Bobbie,” I said, and I was smiling too.
“After you called, I went to your house. Just to make sure you’d be all right. I was just in time to see you and Cody head up to the factory. And I thought to myself, I thought—I bet Nelle gets into trouble,” he said. “I wasn’t wrong, was I, Nelle?”
I watched Mr. Farnsworth being wheeled away. Eddie was with him, keeping pace with the gurney. Detective Levene led Tidbeck away in handcuffs.
Through the open doors I could see the flashing lights of the police cars, and the beginning of a new dawn in the sky. Inside, the factory was finally silent.
Broken glass and spilled milk and torn paper lay everywhere. The machines burped out one last bar of chocolate and fell silent. The chocolate bar rolled toward us along the slowing conveyor belt, until it came just within reach, and there it stopped.
I reached over and broke a piece off and put it in my mouth and chewed it.
It tasted delicious.
“No,” I said. “No, I guess you weren’t.”
Chapter
33
In the early hours of the morning, after everything that had happened in the chocolate factory, Detective Levene drove me home.
My mother was waiting outside.
Her face was pale and tense. There were black rings under her eyes. When I stepped out of the car, she ran to me and took me in her arms and hugged me so tight I thought I’d burst.
“Don’t you ever do something like this again!” she said, when she finally released me.
Then she grounded me for six weeks.
I slept what was left of the night and late into the morning. My sleep was deep but when I woke the sheets were crumpled, as though I had tossed and turned the whole time. Several days later I went back to my office and looked at the photo of me and my dad outside the factory. I felt sad for a while, and then I hung it carefully on the wall and went back to the house and I felt better.
I tidied my office. I read books. I rearranged all the cutlery in the drawer. I sorted the fridge. I watched television.
“Please can I leave the house?”
“No.”
“Please can I leave the house?”
“No!”
I made my mom breakfast. I helped bring in the shopping.
I even watered the garden plants.
“Hey, Nelle.”
“Hey, Cody.”
His little face peered over the fence.
“I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble, you know,” he said. “It’s just, he was such a lovely teddy bear.”
“I know, Cody.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, Cody.”
He smiled happily. “They say soon you’ll be able to buy candy again,” he said. “In the store.”
“Who says?”
He shrugged. “They do,” he said.
“You need to lay off the candy,” I told him. I must have said it a hundred times.
“I know,” he said. “I don’t eat so much anymore, Nelle.”
“Really?”
“Swear,” he said. “’Sides, Mom got me a computer. With games and everything. I’m playing all of them. I’m
in training. I’m gonna be a champion, Nelle. A world champion.”
“That’s good,” I said.
He beamed at me. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, see you, Nelle.”
“See you, Cody.”
Sweetcakes came to visit a few times. She brought with her news of the outside world. “Your mom’s being awful harsh,” she said, munching on an oatmeal cookie. “Oats,” she said, and made a face. She gathered the crumbs in the palm of her hand daintily.
“It’s not so bad,” I said. “Have you seen Eddie?”
She scowled. “That little runt,” she said. “I wouldn’t pick my teeth with him.”
“So you have?”
“He’s around. Back living with his granny.” She barked a laugh. Cookie crumbs flew. “He’s not running candy no more, though. The biz is finished. There ain’t no candy anywhere on the streets. All the kids are going crazy. They’ll get over it.” Her eyes turned dreamy. “It was good while it lasted, though.”
Waffles called once.
“Snoops?”
“Waffles.”
“Yeah. So listen—”
“I’m listening.”
“Just wanted to say thanks. You know?”
“What for?”
“For everything, really. But for, you know. Helping Foxglove, in the end. I mean, I know that wasn’t his real name or anything. And I guess he wasn’t really a butler. Only he was to me. And he was my friend. I don’t have too many friends.”
“No,” I said. “Neither did he.”
There was an awkward silence. Then: “Well, I just wanted to say thanks. And if you ever need a favor, you just let me know. I owe you one, snoops.”
“OK,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Laters, snoops.”
“Laters, Waffles.”
Detective Levene came to visit, once. She sat very straight in a chair with a cup of coffee balanced in her lap. My mom and I sat on the sofa opposite.
“The city would like to thank you for your part in taking down a dangerous bootlegging operation,” Detective Levene said, “and for exposing certain members of the Prohibition Bureau who may have been…remiss in the carrying out of their duties.”
“Remiss?” I said.
Detective Levene looked hard at the coffee cup in her lap.
“Remiss?”
“Detectives Tidbeck and Webber have voluntarily resigned from the force,” Detective Levene said.
“What do you mean, resigned?” I said. I felt anger rising. “They should be in jail!”
“Voluntarily resigned.” It was like she was reading a pre-prepared speech. “To pursue new avenues.”
“What does that mean?”
I may have been shouting. My mom put a restraining hand on my arm.
“Detective Webber left the force and is no longer in the city. He said something about going on a long fishing trip. He won’t be back.”
“Fishing!”
“And Detective Tidbeck has accepted a job offer in Bay City. Security consultant to the St. Creme-Egge Corporation.”
“So they get off completely free?” I said. “They don’t even go to trial?” I balled my hands into fists. “And what about the mayor?”
Detective Levene and my mother exchanged glances. “Mayor Thornton has resigned from his post,” Detective Levene said. “He will not be seeking reelection.”
I stared at her.
“And that’s it?”
I was still shouting.
“Sorry, Nelle,” Detective Levene said. I could see she wasn’t happy either. “Sometimes the bad guys get to walk away.”
“But that’s not fair!”
“No,” she said gently. “No, it isn’t.”
After she’d gone, my mom made me a mug of hot milk and we watched television in our pajamas. I was still feeling angry.
“Maybe you could go out tomorrow,” she said.
“No,” I said. “I’m still grounded, aren’t I?”
“Well, maybe you’ve had enough,” my mom said. “Also, someone keeps rearranging everything in the fridge. It’s beginning to drive me crazy.”
I almost smiled, but I didn’t. I kept staring at the television. My mom stroked my hair.
“It’s just not fair,” I said.
“I know, Nelle. And I know you care. That’s why I love you.”
“You have to love me. I’m your daughter!”
“That too,” she said, and she tickled me, and I laughed.
After Mayor Thornton resigned, one of the local council members ran unopposed in his place.
One of her first acts as the new mayor was to formally abolish Prohibition.
After three years, candy was legal again in the city.
And Bobbie got his wish.
Three months after that night in the factory, we went to the grand reopening of Mr. Singh’s Emporium.
“Thank you all for coming,” Mr. Singh said. He stood before the assembled guests, smiling nervously. He was usually a man of few words. Mrs. Singh sat near her two boys, and she beamed at them.
Behind him, the chrome counter shone. A new soda fountain glimmered. Multicolored lollipops, each the size of a peacock’s tail, fanned the wall. Popcorn crackled in a stove-top popper. On the counter, rows and rows of Farnsworth chocolate bars in bright shiny wrappers stood waiting.
Mr. Singh cleared his throat.
“Well,” he said, into the expectant silence. “Here it is.” He spread his arms, encompassing the shop. Bobbie stood beside him.
Mr. Singh put his arm around Bobbie’s shoulders and they both beamed at the assembled guests.
The speech was over. Everyone clapped. We milled around. We bought chocolates. I ate a strawberry ice cream.
“Hey, Nelle.”
I turned and there he was. Eddie, looking at me sheepishly, chewing on a candy bar.
“Hey, Eddie.”
He wasn’t so cocky anymore. He stood there shifting his weight from foot to foot, with his red hair sticking out above his head, grinning in a way that made him look slightly lost.
I couldn’t stay angry with him. Not really.
“I had a postcard from Mr. Farnsworth the other day,” Eddie said. “He’s in a sanatorium in Switzerland. He says he’s recovering well. He asked how you were.”
“I’m good,” I said.
“Right. Right. Good.”
“Yeah.”
We stood there facing each other awkwardly.
“I’m sorry. And I never thanked you. For, well, everything.”
“Hey,” I said. “I brought you back the teddy, didn’t I?”
I smiled. He smiled.
“Friends?” Eddie said.
I hesitated. Then I stuck my hand out, and we shook.
“Friends,” I said.
About the Author
Lavie Tidhar, at various times, has vanished in the jungles of Borneo, climbed a South Pacific volcano in bare feet, visited the singing sand dunes of the Gobi Desert, ridden the Trans-Siberian train from Moscow to Beijing, and been chased on the beach in Malawi by a very angry hippo (they’ve made up since). He’s lived in Israel, South Africa, Vanuatu, and Laos, but currently makes up words in the part of London, England, where there are a lot of squirrels. In his other life, he is a multiple award-winning author of novels for adults. The Candy Mafia is his first book for children.
About the Illustrator
Daniel Duncan, a freelance illustrator, is inspired by stories, films, old photos, and sports. Highly commended by Macmillan UK for the Macmillan Prize for Illustration in 2013, he was also shortlisted for the 2014 AOI Awards for the Children’s Books New Talent Category. He creates most of his work in an old stable, now turned studio, on the outskirts of London.
Follow him on Instagram @dunks_illustration.
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