4.3.2.1

by Jim Eldridge

  Jo’s mind was in a whirl. What was it they thought that Shannon had taken?

  46

  The police were asking questions, noting the answers down in their notebooks and nodding, as if the answers were useful. Jo, talking to a female police officer and doing her best to hear what the others were saying at the same time, knew that the information the police were being given was useless. Everyone had agreed their stories before the police arrived. No one had seen the robbers’ faces because they’d been wearing hoods.

  ‘They had guns?’ asked the woman PC.

  Jo nodded.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said.

  ‘Do you know what sort?’

  Jo shrugged.

  ‘A gun’s a gun.’

  ‘A handgun? A pistol? Shotguns?’

  ‘No, they had handguns.’

  Nearby, another officer was talking to Angelo, who still had blood around his mouth from where Tee had attacked him. Tee was being interviewed as well. Jo could hear him telling the officer, ‘I was too scared to do anything. I kind of just cowered in the corner.’ Tee looked over at the injured Angelo and Ron. ‘I guess that’s why they left me alone.’

  Barry had been brought in, and an officer was standing with him by the CCTV recorder. Barry had pressed the button that opened it, and seen that there was no disc.

  ‘I must have forgotten to put the new disc in,’ said Barry, looking flustered and guilty. The officer said nothing, just wrote something down in his book. Barry babbled on, eager to defend his own position. ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘Having the safe on the shop floor may seem strange, but we assumed it would be the last place people would look for it.’ Then he gave a weak smile. ‘Anyway, it was lucky I’d cleared out the safe on Friday night, so there was nothing in it.’

  The officer looked at him with a puzzled frown.

  ‘You cleared out the safe?’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’ Barry nodded.

  ‘Why?’ asked the officer. ‘Did you have some thoughts that someone might try and rob it?’

  ‘No,’ said Barry. ‘It was for the wife.’

  The officer looked even more puzzled.

  ‘The wife?’ he asked.

  Jo didn’t hear why Barry had taken it for his wife; she was suddenly aware that the female officer was talking to her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised. ‘What?’

  ‘Did they hurt you?’ the officer asked her.

  Jo shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  After it was all over, and Angelo and Ron had been taken to the hospital for a check-up, Barry announced that, in view of what had taken place, the store would be closed for a few hours in order that a stock check could be taken and the tills checked to try to work out how much had been stolen. The police told Barry to report to the station when he’d done his calculations, and began to pack up. Jo collected her bag and left the store with the police, giving Tee no chance to come and talk to her. Oddly, Tee didn’t look like he was going to bother her anyway. He seemed jittery, weighed down by something on his mind. Whatever Shannon had taken, Jo guessed.

  Once she got to her car, Jo tried Shannon on her mobile. No answer. Instead it went straight to voicemail, inviting her to leave a message. She wanted to say, ‘That wasn’t me saying what I said to you, Shaz. That wasn’t real, that business with me and Dillon. I just had to get you out of there to save your skin.’ But she couldn’t say that without putting the finger on Dillon and Tee. And that would put Shannon at risk.

  Shit, what a fuck-up! thought Jo.

  47

  Jo woke and looked at the clock on her bedside table. One o’clock. Sunday afternoon. God, she’d slept! After what had happened at the mart — the robbery, the guns, Shannon — her mind had been so full she thought she’d never get to sleep.

  Shannon! She struggled up in bed, reached for her mobile and dialled Shannon’s number. Just the answerphone inviting her to leave a message, as before. She hung up and snuggled back down under the covers, but by now she was wide awake, her mind filled with images of last night.

  She considered the security disc she’d taken from the CCTV, which was now on her dressing table. What should she do with it? Take it to the police? No. What would they do? And how much was even on there? Tee had done his best to make sure the displays hid what was going on.

  What had been all that with that woman chasing after Shannon? And why had she told Tee he was a dead man?

  None of it made sense, except for the robbery. Tee must have been planning it for a while. She remembered Dillon pulling her by the hair and pushing the barrel of the gun in her face, and his mouth sucking at hers as he kissed her, and she felt such anger rising in her that she knew if she didn’t do something she’d end up punching someone. Preferably Gwen. But that wouldn’t go down well with her mom.

  She threw back the covers and got out of bed. She needed to kill someone.

  Bam! Bam! Crunch!

  ‘You are about to die!’ shouted Jo. On the screen the villain fell back and then crumpled to the ground.

  Jo’s bedroom door opened and Gwen peered in. Jo switched off the video game and stood, panting, sweat soaked through the front of her T-shirt.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Gwen anxiously.

  ‘Why?’ demanded Jo, thinking angrily, Why do people just walk in my room without knocking? I need to put a lock on my door.

  ‘I heard you shouting and I thought . . . you know . . . after the robbery last night . . .’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ said Jo.

  Gwen came further into the room, the expression on her face still anxious.

  ‘You sure?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jo curtly. For God’s sake, Gwen, leave me alone, she thought. I need my own space. The rest of the time you don’t give a fuck about me. Suddenly now you’re coming over all ‘caring sister’, and it’s creepy.

  Gwen didn’t go. Instead she said, ‘Ted’s is still opening today, so I’ll work tonight if you don’t wanna go back there.’

  Jo stared at Gwen, stunned.

  ‘They’re opening?’ she said. ‘After what happened?’

  ‘Yep.’ Gwen nodded. ‘For the late shift. They say the police are done, so it’s OK. Barry wanted to close, but he said his manager guy wanted to go in. So he asked if you or I would work tonight.’

  Jo looked at her stepsister. So that’s what all this is for, she thought. It’s about who goes in to work tonight, me or her. Gwen wants to go out with her fucking boyfriend again and wants me to go to work for her. Jo was about to say that to Gwen, but as she looked at her she felt there was something else in Gwen’s face: real concern for her.

  I’m getting soft, she thought. Gwen doesn’t care about me.

  ‘Anyway, I said I’d go in,’ said Gwen.

  Jo looked at her, surprised. And then she thought, No, I can’t let Gwen go in. She doesn’t know what’s really going on. She could get hurt. Not that that should bother her, the way she felt about Gwen, but somehow it did.

  ‘Gwen,’ she said, her face serious, ‘you don’t wanna go in. Not with that guy Tee there.’

  Gwen looked at her, puzzled.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Jo took a deep breath, then told her: ‘The manager. Tee. He’s involved. He organised the robbery.’

  Gwen’s mouth fell open.

  ‘What?! How do you know?’

  ‘Because I was there, dummy!’ said Jo, irritated.

  ‘Bullshit!’ snapped back Gwen. Then, as she looked at Jo, her face became curious as she realised Jo was serious. ‘You got proof?’ she asked.

  Jo gestured at her dressing table.

  ‘The security disc from the CCTV cameras in the store,’ she said.

  Gwen gazed at the disc, goggle-eyed.

  ‘Wow! Did you . . . tell the police?’

  Jo shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. He was watching us all.’ She looked at the disc and thought about it, about the store ope
ning again. About Tee being there. ‘Maybe I should go back in,’ she muttered. ‘So he’s not suspicious.’

  Gwen shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘If he thinks you know . . .’

  ‘He knows I know,’ Jo told her.

  ‘Then I’m going in,’ said Gwen. ‘That way you’re safe. He won’t get suspicious of you if I go in and act normal.’

  Jo looked at her stepsister doubtfully. This was a new side of Gwen she was seeing and it was unfamiliar. Concerned Gwen.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I don’t want him to hurt you.’

  ‘Why would he hurt me?’ asked Gwen.

  ‘Because he may not believe everything’s OK.’ She shook her head. ‘Trust me, Gwen, I’ll be OK. I can look after myself.’

  ‘But the robbery . . .’ began Gwen.

  Jo grinned.

  ‘It’ll be fine. No one is gonna hit the same place two days in a row.’

  Gwen’s face hardened into a very determined expression.

  ‘I’m going in tonight,’ she told Jo firmly. ‘And that’s it.’

  48

  Jo sat at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal in front of her, eating. Mr Jones sat asleep in the armchair, his leg in plaster propped up on a footstool. Jo’s mother sat at the table with her, a worried expression on her face.

  ‘You must have been so scared!’ she said, horrified.

  ‘Yeah, I guess I was.’ Jo nodded, spooning more cereal into her mouth and thinking, Please, Mom, no more questions. The last thing I need right now is questions, in case I say something wrong. Telling Gwen is one thing; telling you is another. You’ll call the police in, and then the shit will really hit the fan.

  Shannon, she thought again. I have to talk to Shannon. She switched her mobile on, and when she did it beeped to let her know she had a message.

  Jo called up voicemail, and heard Shannon’s voice: ‘Jo, it’s Shannon. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I think I got some stolen diamonds from your shop, so gimme a call. On my home phone. Please.’

  Jo sat there, stunned.

  ‘Diamonds?’ she said aloud.

  ‘What?’ asked her mother, puzzled.

  Jo shook her head and clicked ‘end’.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said.

  OK, she thought. Shannon has been in touch with me, which is good. But she’s talking about having some stolen diamonds, which sounds bad. And she’s not got her mobile with her, which could be bad, or could be just because she’s run out of credit or charge. She looked at the bowl of cereal. I’ll finish this, then I’ll go call Shannon at home, she thought. Food first. Solving problem second.

  As she was spooning another mouthful of cereal into her mouth Gwen walked in, wearing the Ted’s Mart uniform in all its garish glory, and the front doorbell rang. Mr Jones slept on, untroubled by all the activity.

  ‘I’ll go,’ said Mrs Jones.

  Gwen caught her reflection in the mirror and stood looking at herself admiringly.

  ‘You know, this looks so much better on me than when you wear it,’ she said.

  Cow! thought Jo. The trouble is she doesn’t even realise what she’s saying. She’s so self-centred she never thinks of other people’s feelings. No, she never thinks of my feelings.

  Mrs Jones came back, looking flustered.

  ‘Gwen,’ she whispered, ‘it’s that boy again. Dave.’

  Gwen’s face showed shock.

  ‘Oh no!’ she squealed. ‘He can’t see me in this outfit! I look gross!’

  ‘You just said it looked good on you,’ said Jo.

  ‘Yes, but not for him!’ She looked at her stepmum, desperation on her face. ‘What’s he want?’

  ‘He wants to take you out again.’

  Gwen looked at Jo, horror-struck, a desperate appeal on her face.

  ‘Jo!’ she begged. ‘Did you hear that? He wants to take me out again, and he’s so . . . nice!’ Her face began to crumple. She looked as if she was about to have a panic attack, or burst into tears. ‘I know I said I’d work tonight . . .’ Gwen’s words were coming in a gabble, a desperate appeal in a torrent of pleading. ‘But please please please, just this one more time!’ Gwen’s face screwed up even more as she added, ‘I swear I’ll work all the shifts till Dad gets better, even weekends . . .’

  ‘Fine,’ sighed Jo.

  ‘I’ll even do . . .’ Gwen stopped. ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘I said I’ll do it,’ said Jo.

  Gwen gave a little squeal of delight and jumped up and down on the spot like a little girl who’d been given a special party treat. Then she recovered herself. She flashed Jo a smile.

  ‘Cool,’ she beamed.

  ‘Go upstairs and get changed,’ Mrs Jones cut in. ‘I’ll go and keep him company.’

  Mrs Jones and Gwen both hurried out of the room, leaving Jo with her bowl of cereal. Jo sighed wearily.

  ‘Love you too,’ she muttered.

  Right, time to make some calls, she thought. The first was to Shannon’s home phone number, but all she got was the answerphone. She left a message asking Shannon to call her.

  The next call was to Kerrys. This time she got a connection.

  ‘Kerrys, is Shannon with you?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ said Kerrys. ‘Why?’

  Jo sighed. ‘I fucked up big time,’ she admitted. Should she tell Kerrys about Tee and Dillon? No, not just yet, because Dillon and Kerrys’s brother Manuel were tight and that would raise all sorts of problems. She heard Kerrys talking.

  ‘. . . when she reads the note her mum wrote her, she ain’t gonna be happy,’ Kerrys was saying.

  Note? thought Jo, puzzled.

  ‘Note?’ she asked. ‘What note?’

  ‘Long story,’ said Kerrys, ‘but she’s gonna need us.’

  It sounded like there were long stories all round, thought Jo. Wait till she told them about the robbery, and the diamonds. Providing she could survive tonight at the mart, that was. She’d assured Gwen that everything would be all right, but Tee was on the edge. The truth was, she didn’t know what was going to happen when she went to work.

  ‘OK,’ said Jo. ‘The thing is, if anything happens to me, it’s someone called Tee.’

  Then she hung up before Kerrys could start asking questions.

  49

  Ted’s 24-Hour Mart was empty of customers as Jo walked in. Jo wasn’t surprised — the story about the armed robbery would have spread. No matter what people said about lightning never striking twice, once they heard that a particular place had been attacked by gangsters or terrorists, or a bomb had gone off somewhere, they tended to stay away from that place for a while, until things cooled down.

  At first Jo thought that Ron, standing by the door, and Angelo were the only members of staff in the place, until she became aware of Tee, kneeling down by the display of Pringles, desperately popping the lids off the boxes and then casting them aside. He looked up fleetingly towards Jo, and then turned his attention back to opening the boxes as fast as he could.

  Angelo smiled in greeting.

  ‘Hey, Jo,’ he said warmly. ‘How you doing? I was worried about you.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Jo. ‘You?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Angelo nodded. He touched his mouth and gave a wry smile. ‘Lip’s a bit bruised.’

  Jo scanned the otherwise empty store, looking for the others.

  ‘Where’s Barry?’ she asked.

  ‘Not here,’ said Angelo. ‘Tee opened up.’

  Angelo moved so that he and Jo were out of Tee’s hearing, then added in a whisper, ‘He told me to act normal.’ He sighed. ‘I had to come in because he knows where I live.’ He gestured towards where Ron was standing. ‘Same with Ron.’

  Jo looked at the kneeling Tee as he got ever more desperate, tearing open the boxes of Pringles with abandon. She thought it even sounded like he was crying, but it could have been her imagination.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ she asked.

 
Angelo shook his head.

  ‘No idea,’ he said. ‘He’s been searching those since we opened up, and getting more and more upset. Whatever he’s looking for, he ain’t found it.’

  ‘That’s because my friend has them,’ said Jo.

  Angelo looked at her, puzzled.

  ‘Has what?’ he asked.

  ‘The diamonds.’

  Angelo stared at her, stunned.

  ‘Diamonds?’ he repeated in a shocked whisper.

  Jo was about to tell him about the message she’d received from Shannon when the door opened and three people walked in very purposefully. One was the classy-looking woman who’d chased after Shannon the night before. With her were two men, both of whom looked like gangsters. Not those guys who walked around posing like pretend gangsters, shooting their mouths off and acting like they were tough. These guys were tough. Jo could see that from the way they moved and from the flat, unemotional expressions on their faces. They might not be waving guns right now, but she knew that they were the kind of guys who did. And not just for shock value. They weren’t petty thugs like Dillon and Smoothy. These guys would use guns without a second’s thought.

  The woman and the two men marched over to where Tee was still tearing open boxes of Pringles. He looked up as their shadows fell over him, and fear filled his eyes. He tried to slide away from them along the floor, but the two men reached down, grabbed him by the arms and hauled him to his feet.

  ‘What did I tell you yesterday?’ demanded the woman.

  She was the really dangerous one, Jo could tell. As the woman turned and headed for the door, the two men dragged Tee after her. Tee dug his heels into the floor. Struggling in their grip, he pleaded, ‘Please! Please, no! I’m sorry!’