The Goldsworth Series Box Set

by Davie J Toothill

  “Amal got arrested last night,” she said. “About seven o’clock. Police burst through the front door, made a right scene.”

  Clint saw the dents in the door and nodded.

  “Barged right in, had a warrant and everything though, so there wasn’t nothing to be done except let them get on with it. Went straight to his room. Found a couple of bags of grass,” she said, shaking her head. “Amal kicked off, of course. Took four of them to get him in cuffs. But then they got him outside and into a car and told me I’d be hearing from them.”

  “Shit,” Clint said, in unison with Troy and Tamar.

  “Exactly,” Amal’s mum said. “Still haven’t heard from them. Amal rang me earlier though. Got some shitty state lawyer to defend him. Said he seemed all right, so keep your fingers crossed.”

  “Any idea when he’ll be out?” Clint asked.

  “No idea,” she replied. “Hopefully soon, but God knows. Only thing left to do is wait.”

  Clint nodded and bid farewell to her. When the front door had closed, Clint turned to face Troy and Tamar, who both looked as surprised as he did.

  “Wasn’t expecting that,” Tamar said. “You reckon he’ll be alright inside?”

  “Better be,” Clint replied. “His brother is banged up too, and he’s got some reputation inside, so hopefully he’ll be fine.”

  “Right, I’ve got to get off now,” Troy said. “Things to do.”

  Clint was taken aback by Troy’s tone. Amal was in prison, the release date unknown, and all Troy could think about was whatever payback business he had to take care of later.

  “Seriously?”

  “He’s not here,” Troy shrugged. “Nothing we can do.”

  Troy walked off and down the estate.

  “See you tomorrow guys.”

  Tamar waited a moment before patting Clint on the back and heading off to meet the girl he’d be shagging. Clint walked slowly back towards the estate, feeling frustrated. Troy’s lack of interest was an eye-opener. He’d expected more of a reaction from him.

  It made him wonder. What if it had been him locked up instead of Amal? Would Troy care? Would he show surprise, or concern, that his best mate for years had been arrested? Or would his reaction be the same as it had been just then?

  Clint kept walking, trying to push the thoughts from his mind. He was starting to doubt Troy’s sincerity and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers to the questions going through his mind.

  * * *

  Serena stopped outside the interview room. Casey looked at her inquiringly.

  “You sure you want to do this?” he asked.

  Serena nodded.

  “I looked at his file. He knows Troy Banks, I’ve seen them together on surveillance.”

  “You really think he knows something?”

  “He might do.”

  “And you think he’ll talk?”

  “I don’t think so,” Serena replied.

  “Then why talk to him? If he gets out, he’ll just warn the others.”

  Serena shook her head, “I spoke to the arresting officer. He’s not going anywhere near the Goldsworth Estate for a while. They’ve charged him with intent to supply.”

  “Right, so you’re thinking of offering a deal?”

  “No, the courts won’t want to offer a deal, not when they’re so keen to crack down on drugs on the Goldsworth. I’ve tried, but no deal.”

  “So what are we doing here?”

  “I want to test the water,” Serena admitted. “I don’t expect him to talk, but his body language will speak volumes if we’re on the right track.”

  “Body language?” Casey asked, doubtful. “You sure?”

  “I don’t care if he’s involved, I just want the one responsible. I’m sure it’s Troy Banks or his sidekick. If I’m right, this guy might just prove my theory if he knows.”

  “That’ll never stand up in court,” Casey said. “We couldn’t even get an arrest warrant based on that. Senses and body language. We need a signed statement, at the least.”

  “I know, I know. I don’t expect a warrant, but I just need to make sure I’m on the right track. If I am, then we go after Banks with everything we’ve got. If I’m wrong, we need a whole new plan.”

  Serena studied Casey’s face. He was still unsure but he shrugged.

  “It can’t hurt, I guess.”

  Serena smiled and opened the door, stepping into the interview room. She walked over to the wooden table and took a seat in front of Amal, whilst Casey closed the door and stood in the corner of the room, surveying the scene.

  Amal looked bored, slouched in his chair, fiddling with the zipper of his tracksuit top.

  “I just want to ask you some questions,” Serena explained. “My name is Serena Patterson.”

  Amal shrugged and glanced up at her, not bothering to introduce himself.

  “I’ve already told you lot, it’s a no comment,” he said.

  “I’m not here about the drugs charges,” Serena said.

  Amal looked surprised, but quickly reverted to scowling again.

  “What do you want then?” he asked.

  “I’m investigating Shaniqua Curtis’s murder.”

  Her simple sentence had the effect she’d hoped for. Amal sat up straighter, eyes widening. He ran a hand across his face, trying to cover the reaction that both of them had noticed.

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Amal said.

  Serena saw his eyes flicker and a bead of sweat appear on his hairline.

  “I don’t care about your involvement, you’re already in enough trouble with the drugs charges,” Serena said. “I want to know why Troy Banks killed her.”

  Amal’s eyes widened and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, determined to avoid meeting Serena’s eyes.

  “Anything to say about that?” she asked.

  Amal shook his head, “Nah, I don’t know nothing about any of that.”

  “Really? I think you do.”

  Amal’s forehead was wet with perspiration and his hands were fidgeting with the zipper again, his eyes drawn to the movements his fingers were making.

  “No comment,” Amal stammered.

  “Don’t worry,” Serena smiled, and Amal looked at her suspiciously. “You’ve already told me plenty.”

  Serena rose to her feet and moved towards the door.

  “What you on about?” Amal called after her. “I never said anything.”

  Casey opened the door and stepped outside, and Serena fought the urge to look back at Amal’s shocked and confused face.

  Out in the corridor, Serena closed the door and nodded to the custody sergeant, who moved forward to return Amal to his cell.

  “Did you catch his reaction?” Casey blurted out, “That was amazing. He as good as confirmed that Banks did it.”

  “Exactly what I was hoping for,” Serena said, trying to keep the smugness out of her voice.

  “So what do we do now?”

  “We know that Banks is involved,” Serena replied. “At least I’m pretty certain of it. Now we just need to turn up the heat and see who serves him up to us on a plate.”

  * * *

  Troy walked down the street and wondered at his chances. Surprising Jayden at home seemed like a good idea. Catch him when he was least expecting it. He laughed at the thought of putting a bullet in his head whilst he took a crap. That would turn him into a posthumous laughing stock.

  He stopped outside Jayden’s neighbours’ house and ducked behind a wall. He quickly pulled out the gun and tucked it into the waistband of his school trousers at the small of his back.

  He tucked his rucksack into a gap in the hedge, not wanting to have anything restricting his movement once he was inside the house.

  He surveyed the front of the Healy house from the hedge, noting that one of the upstairs windows was open. A possible escape route, Troy thought, if things went wrong. If all went according to plan, he would simply stroll out the front door happ
y in the knowledge that Jayden’s brain was safely splattered over the walls. If not, then he’d need another way out.

  Looking at the house now, he wondered how he should get into the house. He could knock on the front door, which he’d been planning to do, but now he thought about it, he realised that it would put him at a clear disadvantage. If only Jayden was inside, he would be the one to answer the door. And surely he’d look through the peephole before answering. That would mean he’d clock the threat and be ready and waiting for Troy when the door opened.

  Apart from the open window on the first floor, there were no other entrances.

  Noticing an alleyway a few houses down, Troy hurried back down the street and into the alley. Perhaps there was a back entrance that would be less protected and easier to get into. He jogged down the alley, glad that he’d ditched his schoolbag, and counted the backs of the houses on the street.

  He found the Healy house and surveyed the back. The windows on the first floor were open. Troy looked cautiously around the street for anyone who might be watching, then clambered up onto one of the bins. From the top of the bin, Troy had a clear view into the Healy’s back garden and the open back door.

  Stupid twats, Troy thought, smiling to himself.

  He hopped over the wall and landed on the damp grass in the garden.

  Aware that somebody could be watching from a first floor window, Troy jogged to the back door and pressed himself against the wall to the right of the door. He took a moment to catch his breath and fumbled for the gun. He took the safety off and slowly peered around the doorframe. He’d played Call of Duty enough times to know how to move stealthily.

  The door led into a cluttered kitchen, and through to a dark hallway and the front door.

  Careful not to make a sound, Troy crept through the kitchen and down the hallway. The sound of a television came from a door off the corridor, which he guessed was the lounge. The first door was ajar and Troy looked in. Bathroom.

  He crept closer to the lounge, and found the door open. A girl was sleeping on the sofa, her hand thrown over her face, obscuring her identity. Troy saw the ashtray on the coffee table, overflowing with cigarette and joint butts. She was probably trashed and not likely to wake up any time soon.

  He passed the lounge entrance and reached the front door. He took the door off the latch, in case he needed a quick getaway, careful not to wake the sleeping girl.

  The upstairs looked dark, but Troy knew he’d have to go up there. He inched his way up the stairs, the gun heavy in his hands.

  At the top of the stairs, he quickly looked around. Four doors.

  The first was open, showing an empty bedroom with ruffled sheets and clothes littering the floor. A used condom lay on the bed sheets. Troy poked his head around the doorframe and guessed that this was one of the brothers’ rooms.

  The second door was ajar and he carefully edged closer. He peered through the crack in the door and saw nobody. Still, he thought, they could be hiding.

  Heart racing, he opened the door, which creaked and swung forward. Troy drew the gun up to chest level, aiming it around the room, but the bedroom was deserted. Perhaps this was Jayden’s bedroom, he thought.

  The third door was open, showing a girls’ bedroom which, after only a few seconds, Troy established was empty. Damn, maybe Jayden wasn’t even in.

  The sound of a flushing toilet made him jump. Swivelling on the balls of his feet, Troy aimed the gun at the closed fourth door. He crept closer and reached out for the door handle.

  As his fingers touched the metal handle, the handle moved of its own device and the door was opened, swinging backwards away from him. Troy froze, the gun shaking violently in his hand, and he used his other hand to steady it.

  He didn’t want to miss. This might be his only chance.

  A familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

  Troy gasped and Jessie screamed.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Jessie shrieked, throwing her hands over her head at the sight of the gun.

  “I could ask you the same fucking thing,” Troy shouted. “What are you doing in the fucking Healy house?”

  “This is Jazz’s house,” Jessie replied, “Now, why are you here?”

  “Jazz’s house?” Troy repeated.

  “Duh, my best mate, Jazz Healy.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” Troy said. “Where are her brothers?”

  “I don’t know. Out somewhere.”

  Troy felt like hitting something, but he cursed under his breath and shoved the gun back into the waistband of his trousers.

  “Why do you have a gun?”

  “Fuck off,” Troy replied, and went for the stairs.

  As he ran down the stairs, he heard the girl downstairs stirring. Jazz. He threw the front door open and ran down the path. He stopped briefly to get his rucksack, throwing the gun back into it, not bothering to wrap the shirt around it, and ran down the street.

  His blood was boiling. Jayden was still alive. His plan to get revenge had failed. And fucking Jessie had been there. His anger felt like a volcano, about to erupt and send shockwaves through his whole body.

  He was going to get revenge on Jayden and his gang. For Brandy, and for the disrespect they’d shown him, and the humiliation that he felt now. Someone was going to pay.

  * * *

  The park was always dark at this time in the evening. Perfect, Sasha thought. No prying eyes or judgmental stares. Just her and Wright, alone under the stars.

  Wright’s arms were tight around her waist and she kissed him affectionately on the mouth.

  “So what was so important that I had to drop all my plans for this evening?” Sasha asked him, tracing a finger over his moist lips.

  “You had plans tonight?” he asked, taken aback. “You never said.”

  “I was only joking,” Sasha said. “And even if I did have plans, I’d have dropped them for you anyway.”

  “Is that right?” Wright smiled, nuzzling her neck with his chin.

  “Yeah,” Sasha said, groaning in pleasure as his hands cupped her breasts.

  “You want to know what was so important?”

  “Of course.”

  “I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his voice husky and soft.

  “Anything,” Sasha said.

  Wright paused and dropped his hands from her body. Sasha looked up at him in surprise.

  “I know we haven’t known each other long,” Wright began. “But I really like you.”

  “I like you too,” Sasha said playfully.

  “I mean, I really like you, Sasha,” he said. “And I just wondered if, you know, maybe you wanted to go out with me?”

  “We’re already going out.”

  “I mean, exclusively, like, just me and you.”

  “No threesomes then?” Sasha asked. Wright looked surprised.

  “I didn’t know -”

  “I’m only playing,” Sasha said, laughing. Then she went serious. “Of course I want to be exclusive with you, fool.”

  Wright’s face creased into a grin and he kissed her on the lips, his hands returning to her waist.

  “I’m so glad to hear that,” he whispered.

  “Now that we’re exclusive, you’re going to have to work a lot harder,” Sasha breathed gently in his ear. She slid her hands down his stomach and into the front of his jeans. “Starting now.”

  “I think I can manage that,” Wright said, and undid his jeans as Sasha giggled.

  * * *

  The cold night air had cleared his head and Troy slowly felt his anger ebbing away. It had been a simple mistake, he told himself. Jayden had been out and so his plan hadn’t come to fruition, but nobody knew how he’d failed. That thought cheered him slightly. Only he would know how he’d tried and failed to kill Jayden. Jessie had seen him there, but she wouldn’t ask questions, she never did.

  Walking towards the Goldsworth, Troy found himself thinking of another plan. Perhaps he could slowly take Jayden
’s crew one by one, until Jayden himself was unprotected and alone.

  A girl’s laugh cut through the darkness. He turned and looked for the source of the noise. Creeping closer, he saw two figures in the darkened playground on the outskirts of the estate. The figures were pressed against each other. A boy and a girl.

  Troy watched for a few moments before deciding to move away. Before he could, the two figures moved and they were briefly illuminated by the moon.

  Troy froze. He recognised them both. The male was one of Jayden’s crew. The girl was Sasha, Brandy’s former friend.

  Sasha went to walk away, but Wright caught her arm and pulled her back. Troy shook with anger. The son of a bitch was trying to rape her. First Brandy, now Sasha.

  He fumbled to open his rucksack and pulled the gun out, holding it in a firm but sweaty grip. He had to put a stop to it, to rescue Sasha. Teach this guy some respect.

  He stepped out of the shadows and called out, taking both of them by surprise. Sasha and Wright flew apart, looking towards the voice.

  Troy stepped closer and felt his body illuminated by the moonlight. Sasha gasped and Wright stifled a laugh.

  “What you doing?” Wright asked, “Pervert.”

  “You’re the pervert,” Troy replied.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I saw you just now.”

  “That’s private.”

  “Not anymore,” Troy said. “Fucking rapist.”

  Wright looked bewildered. Sasha stood frozen a few feet away.

  “Come on, Sasha, I’ll walk you home,” Troy said, motioning for Sasha to come nearer to him, “I’ll teach this piece of scum a lesson.”

  “No, Troy, you’ve got it wrong,” Sasha warned.

  “You don’t need to defend him, I’ve got a gun.”

  With that, Troy raised the gun, levelling at Wright’s chest.

  “What the fuck?” Wright protested.

  “Troy, you’ve got it wrong,” Sasha said.

  Wright moved closer to Sasha, determined to protect her, but Troy flinched, following his movements with the barrel of the gun.

  “Get away from her.”

  “Listen, mate, fuck the hell off,” Wright said.

  Wright moved closer towards Troy, his trainers crunching on loose twigs.