‘We can talk about it,’ I said, grateful for the respite. I could usually talk Dad round, although he wasn’t looking all that persuadable at the moment.
‘So, home,’ he said, looking around and seeming to realise we were in the middle of a forest with no obvious means of transport. ‘Ah, I’ll see if that nice policeman will give us a lift …’
‘I think they want me to wait and answer some questions.’
‘Questions? What? Why? I thought you said you weren’t involved in anything. Georgina …’
I hurried on, I really didn’t want to hear another rant. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong, Dad. But they’ll want to know what I saw, won’t they? Apparently they have broken up a drug-dealing gang and we – Finn and Cami and I – were, er, the last to see one of the members.’
Dad rubbed his hand nervously over his bald head. I knew he’d never go against the wishes of the police. ‘Are you sure they need to question you right now? I’d prefer to get you home …’
‘Why don’t we ask them?’ I said. The officer who seemed to be in charge, the one who had exchanged a few sentences with Finn earlier on, had now returned.
Chapter Thirty-Four
FINN
I couldn’t help feeling sorry for George, the way her dad was going on. Cami was nearly crapping himself, sniggering at someone else getting in trouble, now that Marcus had let him alone. But I could see she was embarrassed and sorry and really pissed off all at once. She’d managed to stay at the festival until now, the afternoon of the very last day. And, just when all (well, most) of the problems had been solved she was going to have to leave.
I could certainly understand why she was upset.
I couldn’t help interfering. It’s just the way I am. She introduced me and Cami to her dad and he ended up sitting with us while she was taken to another van for her interview. Cami took out his iPod and stuck earphones in his ears, just in case this old guy hadn’t realised he had no intention of chatting.
Which was fine. I’d been interested to talk to George’s dad since she said he lectured in land science, and now was as good a time as ever. I mentioned what George had said and how I was still wondering what course to do at uni – and he was off. He reminded me a bit of Mr Xavier, all that enthusiasm and no real idea of whether the other person could give a damn or not. Actually, the course he taught sounded quite interesting, although there was no way I would be able to afford to go to uni in England.
And while we chatted about that I managed to drop into the conversation how much revising George and I had been doing and how the festival wasn’t all about drink and drugs and how it seemed like such a shame if George couldn’t stay to hear Murdo Mensah perform.
‘Who’s Murdo Mensah?’ he asked, sounding confused.
‘He’s the headline act tonight,’ I said. ‘The biggest act, on the main stage, you know.’ I didn’t think there was any point describing what sort of music Mensah played. ‘And now the police have sorted out everything here it’s probably the safest time for her to be around.’ I hoped.
I’d been trying to get George away from here for days, now I really wanted her to stay.
So when George returned, escorted by the policewoman, I said quickly, before she could put her foot in it, ‘You wouldn’t really mind if George stayed one more night, then? It makes sense. The whole festival ends tomorrow, and it’d be a pity for her to miss the final evening. It must have been awful for you not knowing where she was, but now you can see she’s fine …’
I wasn’t sure if her dad would fall for it, but it was worth a try. I’d put on my best, oh-so-sensible voice which made Cami, who’d just unplugged his earbuds, stare at me with his mouth open.
It seemed like Mr Wray did just want to whisk her away. He frowned and looked at me doubtfully and was starting to shake his head when George leapt in.
‘Please,’ she said. ‘My absolute favourite band is on. I’ll be grateful for ever.’
‘I don’t know …’
‘It’s just one more night. I’ll have everything packed up in the morning and be ready to leave whenever you want. And I’ll work a million times harder than I have been for my exams. Pleeease.’
‘Well I suppose, perhaps,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I must be mad.’
She jumped up and kissed him. ‘Thanks Dad. I love you.’ He looked pleased and embarrassed, and like he couldn’t quite understand how he’d agreed to this.
GEORGE
I couldn’t believe it! Dad was the most amazing, wonderful, brilliant parent. And it was all Finn’s doing. He was pretty amazing, too.
Dad was saying to him, ‘You will keep an eye on her, won’t you?’ He’d obviously totally fallen for all that self-assurance. It was annoying. Finn wasn’t that much older than me, but I wasn’t going to make a fuss at that stage.
Dad insisted on seeing where I was camping, checked with the police that they weren’t expecting any more trouble, and said he’d be back in the morning to collect me. Then he left.
Awesome!
So that was the end of that, the normal-family-life interlude. It was good to see Dad, of course, but, to be frank, it really spoilt the atmosphere of the festival. It wasn’t easy to feel cool and laid-back with a tweed-jacketed, balding, concerned parent looking on.
‘He seems like a nice guy,’ said Finn.
‘He is,’ I said. It was true. ‘Now if I can only persuade him it’ll be in both our best interests to say nothing about this to Mum, I’ll be sorted.’
Finn smiled faintly, as though it was funny to be worried about that kind of stuff. ‘You have such an ordinary family,’ he said.
Didn’t I know it? So much for my dream of being cool and fascinating. Being ordinary was completely rubbish when you were trying to impress someone.
Then Marcus appeared. He’d kept a low profile while Dad was around, which was a good thing from my point of view. He wasn’t Dad’s idea of a responsible adult.
Now he loomed over us. ‘You two! Over to the bothy! Now.’
Finn raised an eyebrow at his tone but said peaceably, ‘Actually, we were just on our way.’
That was news to me, but I was willing to fall into step beside him. Marcus might think he was going to get some answers out of us. I was more interested in getting them out of him. In fact, I was quite pleased I wasn’t being left out for once.
A few people glanced at us and then looked away as we walked the couple of hundred metres to Marcus’s office. The police had gone by now but they had apparently caused a fair amount of disturbance. I’d have quite liked to see them get hold of Dex! Apparently he’d tried to run, but not fast enough. Another of Marcus’s helpers had been arrested too, one I thought was a friend of Marcus and not Dex, and another hanger-on I wasn’t that surprised about. Unfortunately they hadn’t taken Chester, the fat guy with the pony tail. I’d thought he was completely in on things with Dex, but maybe that was just because he gave me the creeps.
There were only three less people on the site but it seemed to make a difference. Or maybe it was the lack of the drugs they would have supplied. People were quieter, more wary, and a lot less stoned.
The bothy looked, even to my ignorant eye, as though it had been searched.
Marcus gestured around abruptly. ‘They didn’t take my word, or yours, that I wasn’t involved. Had to bloody check for themselves.’
‘Just think yourself lucky Dex didn’t plant anything here,’ said Finn, gazing around with narrowed eyes. ‘That would have been really marvellous.’
It was warm in here. Finn took off his camouflage jacket and threw it over the back of a chair, then sat down. He was wearing a grey tee-shirt and black cargo trousers and looked, despite everything, completely stunning. Only the red grazes around his wrists showed that anything untoward had happened. I took a seat beside him, pushing my hair behind my ears, wishing I wasn’t sure I looked a total mess. I probably had leaves in my hair and mud on my face.
Marcus leaned
against his desk, arms folded. ‘So, where’s the guitar?’
Er … where had that come from? He wasn’t ranting about who brought the police here or what this meant for the festival, he wanted to know about Finn’s guitar?
‘I’m not exactly sure,’ said Finn. ‘You need to ask Cami.’
‘I asked him. He said ask you.’ Marcus looked grim, dark hair hanging menacingly down the sides of his long face.
Finn seemed surprised. ‘He’s the one who knows where he put it. Anyway, we can’t go and look for it until the police have cleared out of that area. I hope they don’t take it into their heads to do a wider search or you’ve had it.’
‘Shit,’ said Marcus, looking horrified. ‘You mean it’s still up there?’
‘Aye. We didn’t have much bloody time to move it, did we? If Cami hadn’t acted quickly we wouldn’t even have been able to do that.’
I seemed to remember it was Finn’s quick actions, not Cami’s, that had made things happen, but I didn’t say anything. I was still trying to work out what was so important about the guitar.
Marcus looked at his cousin with his more habitual irritation. ‘Seems like Cami thinks you’re not such a bastard after all. Thanks for moving it.’
‘No problem,’ said Finn in his calm way.
I could see his tone was really winding Marcus up so I said, ‘Where’s Cami now?’
Marcus grunted. ‘Checking the volunteer rosters for me, believe it or not. Someone’s got to keep an eye on security now Dex is away.’
‘And that someone is Cami?’ said Finn. ‘Nice one.’
‘I didn’t have much choice. Davy’s trying to calm down that indie band who didn’t take kindly to the police presence.’
Neither of them said anything for a moment so I decided to ask a few questions of my own.
‘So, Dex was part of some drugs ring? And that’s why the police have arrested him and the others?’
‘Aye,’ said Marcus, looking at me as though I was stupid (again).
‘And why now?’
‘I don’t know, do I? It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘It was a big operation,’ said Finn, for once supplying information. ‘Dex was only a small part of it. That’s why they’ve been waiting to make the arrests, to tie it in with whatever else they were doing.’
‘Pity they couldn’t have waited another day, till all the punters had cleared off.’ Marcus frowned.
I decided to continue with my questions while I was still getting a response. ‘And you, Finn, were involved, finding things out for the police?’
‘Our very own little informer,’ said Marcus, lip curling.
‘I knew a few things, or could find out things they couldn’t. It wasn’t any big deal.’
‘I can’t believe they actually trusted a kid like you,’ said Marcus. ‘Let you do some spying for them.’
‘They had to, after Kevin was taken out of the picture.’
‘Kevin worked for the police?’ It was all starting to make sense to me. Then, ‘But he was badly hurt! You were putting yourself at risk …’
Finn shrugged. ‘Not much. I kept a low profile.’
I thought again of Kevin’s motionless body being taken away in the ambulance, and shivered.
‘Not low enough, obviously,’ said Marcus, looking down at Finn’s injured wrists.
Finn sighed. ‘That was different. I knew the police were coming, I could have just let that guy – Terry? – keep hold of me for an hour or so. The problem was my mum’s guitar.’
‘Ah yes, the guitar.’ Marcus looked interested again. This was where the conversation had started.
‘My mum’s old guitar. Now my guitar.’ Finn leaned forward, his tone not so conversational now. ‘Why did you have to mess with it?’
‘I didn’t mess with it,’ snapped Marcus, raising his own voice.
‘But you used it, didn’t you? You hid something in it. In the case.’
Of course, I should have guessed. This wasn’t about the guitar at all. It might be important to Finn but Marcus didn’t care about that. He had other interests. But what? If it was more drugs why would Finn be helping him hide them?
‘What I’d like to know,’ Finn continued, his voice harder than ever, ‘Why you used the guitar case. I don’t know how you dare.’
Marcus shrugged. ‘I was in a hurry. I knew you never actually played the thing, and seeing as you were so pally with the cops your tent was the last place they were likely to search.’
‘But the risk …’ said Finn.
‘The Picasso,’ I said suddenly. It had to be! That was the other thing everyone was looking for.
Finn nodded so I suppose he’d also worked it out for himself. He carried on glaring at his cousin.
I stared at Marcus, too. I’d started to trust him, even if I didn’t like him. I’d started to think he wasn’t a crook like Dex. Now I realised he wasn’t like Dex at all – he was a big time criminal!
‘You stole the Picasso,’ I said slowly, when he didn’t speak. ‘It’s been here on the festival site the whole time.’
‘I didn’t steal it,’ he said.
‘But you did hide it,’ said Finn. ‘Jesus, how stupid can you get?’
Er, excuse me, I was lost again. Marcus was involved in a multi-million pound art theft and his cousin was worried about him being stupid?
All Marcus said was, ‘How did you know where to find the guitar?’
Finn shrugged. ‘I didn’t know until that guy Terry mentioned it. I was pretty sure Dex or one of his thugs had taken it, seeing the mess they made going through the tent. But I hadn’t actually thought they were stupid enough to put it with the drugs.’
I wondered what they planned to do with the Picasso. They probably didn’t even know themselves.
‘And you got it out of there before the police saw it?’
Finn nodded.
‘Quick thinking,’ said Marcus, rubbing his chin. ‘Thank Christ you did.’
‘And how did Dex know you had the painting? And where you’d hidden it?’
‘Who knows? He had more contacts than I realised.’
‘He was really, er, friendly with Chester,’ I said tentatively.
‘Chester’s fine,’ said Marcus.
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Finn. ‘I think you need to keep an eye on him …’
We all jumped as the door of the bothy banged open.
We’d been so engrossed in this conversation we hadn’t heard anything. Now two men stood in the opening. They were wearing suits, so for a moment I thought this was the police back, CID or something, but when they closed the door behind them with a bang and one took something long and heavy out of his pocket I realised it was much worse than that.
Chapter Thirty-Five
FINN
‘You didn’t turn up,’ said the older of the two men. ‘You were told. Keep the thing safe, no questions asked. Bring it when you were summoned, no questions asked.’ He spoke to Marcus, ignoring George and me completely. His voice was low and ice-cold.
Marcus had straightened when he saw the men, but now he leaned back in his chair, pretending to relax. ‘Hi there. How did you get in?’
‘Easy. You thought you could stop us?’
Marcus raised his hands as though in surrender. ‘Don’t know why we ever bothered with that bloody barrier. Doesn’t keep anyone out.’
‘So,’ said the man with even more emphasis. ‘The rendezvous?’
Marcus cleared his throat. ‘Yes, well, sorry about that. I don’t know if you noticed but we’ve had a few little problems with the police around here …’
The younger man, who was fingering what looked like a black truncheon, flinched at the word ‘police’ but the other man didn’t react.
‘They weren’t interested in our little business,’ he said. ‘We know that. Now, where is it? I’ve been told to take it right now.’
Instead of answering, Marcus said coolly to George and me, ‘Okay you tw
o, off you go. And I don’t want any more trouble. Is that clear?’
I nodded. Definitely best to get out of here, even if we didn’t go far. I pulled my coat over one shoulder and indicated with my head for George to follow. I thought the thugs might object – for thugs they definitely were, despite the sharp suits – but they hardly spared us a glance. Even before the door closed behind us they were back at Marcus, ‘Right, enough time-wasting ...’
‘You go back to the site,’ I said softly to George. ‘I’m going to scout around the back, see if I can hear anything.’
She shot me a filthy look and followed me around the side of the building. I gave in. I didn’t have time to waste on arguing.
We moved along the wall of the bothy until we reached a tiny deep-set window. If we leaned in towards the glass, we could make out some of what was being said inside.
Marcus was doing his best, I’ll give him that. He didn’t actually tell his visitors he hadn’t a clue where the painting was, for it was definitely the painting they were after. Marcus explained it had had to be ‘moved for safekeeping’ and he would ‘pass it over to them soon’. He sounded confident and believable, but it didn’t work.
First they started shouting, accusing him of double-dealing.
Then one of them hit him. I wasn’t sure if it was with a fist or the stick, but we heard a sickening thump and then a groan. I wanted to turn right round and go back in then, but it really wasn’t sensible. I gritted my teeth and carried on listening.
It seemed the men weren’t actually going to finish off Marcus now. That blow was just a taster. They said they’d give him until midnight to produce the goods. And, to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, they had his little brother ‘somewhere safe’, to be returned when ‘the goods’ were handed over.
Marcus sounded worried for the first time, protesting in a torrent of abuse, but they ignored him. ‘Same place, tonight, midnight. And you better be there. No argument.’
There was the sound of another thump, and a curse, then they left.
Music and Lies (George and Finn Book 1) Page 19