Dan frowned. “Go on,” he said.
“I’ve been looking at their channel, following some of the links they’ve left behind in the comments. You know, invitations, subscription related stuff…”
“Be careful. Some of those links could have malware in them. Bugs. A lot of these seedy sites do.”
Mark shrugged. “So far, I’ve found a Facebook page, a Twitter account, and something on Insta. They’ve got a presence out there and a small but loyal following. The same faces, the same profile names appear on YouTube and on their other social media. Those are the ones asking about the next special video upload, asking to see things unpixellated too. That’s where the subscription money is coming from, people like that.”
“Yuck,” said Dan. “If I hadn’t worked this job as long as I have, I might get depressed.”
“Wait for it. They’re still a bit amateurish in places.”
“Places? From what I’ve seen they’re amateurish all over the place.”
“But specifically, I mean the back-end of the business.”
“What are you saying, Mark?”
“I found what looks like a closed Facebook page for their own small community. There’s about twenty people in it. I guess that’s for the people making the films. The people we’ve seen going to the house. The film crew or whatever you want to call them.”
“And?”
“If it was a proper business, the back-end stuff like that would be locked down tight. Totally invisible to you and me. But because they’re amateurs they don’t keep all their work information on closed or hidden pages. For instance, I just found a Facebook post with a loose comment which says they’re due to meet tonight for a special filming. One of them posted a comment asking if the neighbour will cause any trouble. Do you want to hear the reply?”
Dan gave a stern nod.
“The reply was posted a couple of hours ago it says, Not tonight he won’t. The brakes are off.”
“Show me,” said Dan. Mark handed the phone over and Dan scanned until he found the comment Mark had mentioned. He zoomed in with thumb and forefinger, straining to see the profile image beside it, and enlarged it to fill the screen. There she was, Lady Bleach, Jenny from the block in all her sweet smiling glory, with Mr Bleach lingering at the edge of the image as her boyfriend.
Dan grimaced again. “Then it wasn’t just revenge at all. They were clearing house for tonight. That was why they were offering him some kind of arrangement to stay away whenever they said so. Something tells me if the brakes are off they won’t be filming vacuum cleaners or scratching wood.”
“No they’ll be filming. But they’ll be filming something noisy,” said Mark, taking back his phone. “And from what I’ve seen in those comments, they’re all pretty stoked about it.”
“Something to boost subscribers and brings the money in… You know what, Mark, I’ve got a funny feeling something might happen to spoil their party. Don’t you?”
They walked out of the hospital and headed for the multi-storey where Dan’s ailing Crossfire was parked.
***
Dan called Eva to make sure she was alright. By now he had expected her to be dozy, drunk and slurring her words. During the bad times she had always been tempted by the white stuff, but if it helped her get some sleep after her ordeal, he didn’t mind. But Eva’s voice was clear. Perhaps a little love had done the trick instead… but then again maybe not. Eva’s voice sounded friendly enough but he also heard it was distant, and full of thought. But there was nothing he could do about that now. He told her not to wait up but spared her the details. Eva didn’t need chapter and verse. In the morning, when it was all over, he would tell her everything.
When the call ended Dan saw the Mellot girl, still scootering around Carberry Close – and this time she was by herself. He looked at the clock on the dash. It was a quarter to nine in the evening – and they were in Basildon. No matter what street you lived on, a girl her age needed to be safe at home long before dark. The mother was clearly not as fantastic as she thought. Dan cast an eye at The Bleaches’ house as he passed it by. Deep inside the house a light was on, glowing like a lava lamp from the core. He wondered what they were doing in there, and how many there were inside. Fodder, all of them, if they got in his way. The Mellot girl turned and scooted back from the driveway of her house. When she got closer, Dan saw her looking at The Bleaches’ house, an interested look in her eye. When the girl saw Dan watching she slowed to a halt just a few feet away.
“Hi,” said Dan.
“Hi,” said the girl, replying in a careful little voice She scooted a few steps as if to get away, but only slowly. Then she stayed. Curious – just like her mother said. “You’re always out, aren’t you?” said Dan.
“Better than stopping in at home. Home’s dead boring. And they’re always bickering in there.”
“Really?” said Dan. The girl really wasn’t backward in coming forward. The mother didn’t want him to talk to the girl, but what if she spoke to him? The girl was outgoing enough. She didn’t need prompting to open up to anyone.
“What do they bicker about?”
“Dad’s work mostly. He does too many hours, she says. She always says that. Only thing she goes on about. I don’t mind if he works though. When he’s home it’s dull. He only likes the news. He watches the news nonstop then he moans about it.”
Dan laughed. “Yeah. Must be a grown up thing. I think I do that all the time as well.”
“I hate the news,” she said. “It’s dull, dull, dull.”
“I bet the people in that house are never dull, right?” said Dan. He stuck a thumb towards The Bleaches’ house and the girl gave him a quizzical look.
“Not dull at all. But why would you say that? You’ve been hanging around with Mr Creepy, haven’t you?
“Mr Ronson, you mean. Yeah, he’s okay. I wouldn’t worry about him. He comes across as a little odd, but some people just can’t help it. I don’t think he means anything by it.”
“If you say so. My mum says to keep away because he’s probably a kiddy fiddler.”
“What?”
“That’s what she says. And my dad says a lot worse than that.”
“What do they say about this lot?” said Dan.
“You mean Jenny and Olly and the others?”
“That’s right. Them.”
“Mum and Dad don’t like them either. But that’s only because they’re young and cool. I think it’s because they’re jealous. Jenny is still young and pretty, and Olly is a film maker. Dad only works at a petrochemical plant. He says they’re all scroungers, but I don’t tell him they’ve got really cool jobs.”
“Why not?”
“Because Dad might get the wrong idea and ruin it for me.”
“Ruin what for you?”
“He’d stop me being friends with them. He’d probably stop me getting a chance at getting famous too.”
Dan couldn’t help glancing at Mark.
“Famous?”
The girl nodded. “Famous like Jenny and her friend. They’re in films on the net. They make sound videos to help people feel better. I’ve seen some of them. They’re really good, nice and relaxing. They’ve got loads of fans.”
“They make relaxation videos,” said Dan.
“Yeah. You didn’t know that, did you?” said the girl.
“No. But I’m not as smart as you.”
The girl chuckled.
“And that’s all they make. Relaxation videos?”
The girl nodded, then added another word. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Jenny said they make romance films too. She’s so pretty I think they must be fantastic to watch.”
Dan and Mark exchanged a look.
“You’ve been invited to visit them, haven’t you?”
The girl’s brow dropped over her eyes.
“How do you know about that?”
“I heard about it,” said Dan, feigning indifference. �
��I bet they’ve even said you could be in one of their little videos. Is that what they promised?”
The girl stayed quiet for a moment. She looked at each of them and twisted the handlebars of her scooter left and right. The bar squeaked as it turned.
“How do you know about it?” said the girl.
“Because I’m almost as smart as you are. So what kind of film did they say you could be in?” said Dan.
“A nice one. A short one to start with.”
“Relaxation?”
The girl nodded. “Jenny said people like to watch pretty people in the videos. It helps them feel good.”
Dan nodded. He kept a smile on his face, but he felt his shoulders tensing, his gut hardening as he spoke.
“I’m sure it does. That’s very kind of them, isn’t it? What do your mum and dad think of that?”
“Weren’t you listening? Mum and Dan wouldn’t allow that!”
“Then how could you go?”
The girl looked at him with a careful eye.
“They said I was welcome… so long as I could sneak out of my house.”
“What?”
“They know my parents are stiffs. So they said I could go along tonight provided I didn’t tell them.”
Tonight… Of course tonight…
“You spoke to my mum, didn’t you? You won’t tell her, will you?”
“You don’t want me to?” said Dan.
“No. Besides she doesn’t like you anyway. She told me to avoid you.”
“And you’re doing a superb job of that too.”
“Don’t be sarcastic. Maybe Mum was right about you after all.”
The girl turned her scooter in a circle and started to walk away.
“Kitty,” said Dan. The girl turned.
“How do you know my name?”
“Because I’m a private investigator.”
The girl shrugged. “Because you’ve been talking to that weirdo, more like.”
“Kitty, are you going there tonight? For the filming?”
“No,” said the girl. But she spoke quickly, and Dan saw a glint of light in her eyes. She was lying.
“Kitty. Listen to me. This afternoon, when I was talking to your mother, the people in that house Olly and Jenny, they hurt Mr Ronson. They beat him up so badly that he ended up in hospital. Do you understand.”
The girl looked at Dan and shook her head. “That’s a very mean thing to say about anyone.”
“But it’s true. We’ve just been to see him at the hospital.”
The girl just stared.
Dan nodded. “They’re dangerous people, Kitty. They might seem cool and friendly, but that’s all an act. I think they do bad things in that house.”
“They make videos to help people! I’ve seen them.”
“That’s one thing they do. But people aren’t good all the time, are they?”
He let his words sink in.
“That’s why Mr Ronson asked us to help him. To stop them doing bad things. And to stop them from even thinking about taking advantage of you.
“Of me? He’s off his head. They’re good people.”
“You think so? Tell your mother everything just I told you. And don’t you leave one single bit out. I dare you. And you just see what she says…”
The girl stared at Dan with hard eyes, and for the first time since he’d seen her, Dan sensed fear behind the brightness. A little healthy fear never killed anyone.
“I’m going home now. Please don’t ever speak to me again, because I won’t talk back.”
Dan and Mark watched the girl turn and head away to her house. She looked crestfallen, and fearful. Dan wasn’t the kind of man who liked to burst dreams or steal sweets from a baby. But some dreams were best spoiled before they could turn into nightmares.
Dan looked at Mark. “Poor kid. But I never liked her mother anyway.”
He looked up and turned to the house beside Ronson’s and stared at the orange glow from deep within. He saw the glow change as it was obscured by a movement of shadows. Somebody was at home.
“I think it’s time we set the record straight, don’t you?” said Dan. Mark sensed trouble.
“They won’t answer the door to us. They’ll be expecting trouble.”
Dan nodded. “Probably. But after what they did to Ronson… and after what the girl just told us, I’m not exactly a fan of the wait and see policy.”
“Well, what then?”
“I think we should surprise them. Let’s see what we can see.”
“How?”
“The fence wasn’t so hard to climb the first time, was it?”
Mark hesitated. “Not for some people,” he said.
“I’ll give you a leg up,” said Dan.
“You want me to go first?”
“Someone has to. Hey. This was your lead, remember? Time to show some initiative.”
“I think this is the wrong strategy, that’s all.”
“You heard what they said to that girl. She’s still at junior school. She doesn’t have a clue what they were setting her up for and we don’t know how bad it was going to get. They beat Ronson to make sure he was safely out of the way. Whatever they had in mind, we’re putting an end to it.”
Mark sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Okay,” he said.
Dan patted Mark on the shoulder and they walked around the side of The Bleaches’ house, back to where it adjoined the front of the neighbouring property. This time, the curtains in the neighbour’s front room were pulled tight shut. He looked around as he tested a fencepost by leaning on it. Then he beckoned Mark over with a nod. He made a stirrup with his hands, and Mark pushed up into it with his boot, heaving himself over the fencepost with all his strength. It took all of his upper body strength to drag himself over the top. Before the fence dig into him anymore, Mark pulled himself up and landed in a heap on the uncut grass. He groaned, found himself looking at a glistening cat turd just inches from his head, and groaned again. Mark pulled himself to his feet and checked his clothes.
“You okay?” whispered Dan. “Or do we need another ambulance?”
“I’m good,” said Mark, clutching his chest. Dan clambered over the fence as Mark peered at the house. The back windows were uncovered, but inside was pitch black. There was the merest hint of a fiery glow from the hallway and it was brighter still on the upper floor. Mark stalked past the rubbish, mugs and glasses to reach the back door. A wisp of smoke caught his nostrils. He looked down to find a bent, crushed dogend, an ember still shining at the end. Another fag end nearby let loose a dying curl of smoke from the patio.
“They were out here a little while back,” whispered Mark.
Dan scanned the floor. “Yeah… two cigarettes. No lipstick on either of them.”
“Maybe she doesn’t wear any?”
“She will on a filming night. Didn’t you get how glam this all is?” Dan reached for the back door handle. He plunged it down and heard the latch click. The smokers hadn’t locked it. He tugged and felt the door loosen from the frame.
“What are you going to do?” said Mark.
“Who knows? Take a look around. Maybe catch them in the act.”
“What act?” said Mark.
“I’ll know when I see it.” Dan pulled the door open and stepped into a kitchen that had once been a bland and inoffensive oatmeal and off-white. Now it was hidden under weeks of mess and untidy living. Used teabags were strewn across the worktop alongside a half dozen used teaspoons. The washing-up bowl was full of discoloured water and a mountainous pile of dishes. Screwed-up empty bread bags, takeaway boxes and empty milk cartons sat alongside the popular favourite – flattened plastic cider bottles.
“Classy,” muttered Dan.
Mark made a face, shut the door and, after touching the door handle he wiped his hands on his jeans. They heard a thump somewhere above followed by a peal of laughter. Dan nodded to the doorway and the stairwell beyond. They moved into the darkened hallway. The stai
rs were cut into the side wall near the first of the small reception rooms. The looked through the doorway of the room opposite the staircase and saw a trio of cheap fizzy wines next to a clutch of mismatched glasses. A four-pack of unopened cider tins nestled in the corner by the sofa, with a family-sized multipack of crisps. All varieties. “This must be the green room,” said Dan.
“Or the after party,” said Mark. There was another chuckle above. Two men were laughing like drains, probably drunk. Dan moved for the stairs. He climbed a half-flight before they turned. The floorboards bent and creaked beneath his boots, but he gambled that the people upstairs were too busy to notice.
Dan edged onto the landing as a guy with stringy black hair and a blue T-shirt walked past into one of the side rooms. The guy had fuzz all over his face and the gut of a guy who probably ate crisps and drank cider.
“Move that here,” said a voice. “On second thoughts, no. Over here instead. The camera is going to pan around this way. If we want to get a real close-up angle on the action, we’ll need to pan in this way. Then from the door, I’ll swoop down like this.”
“How close do you want to get?”
“Just as close as we can, Olly says. That’s what the subscribers really like. They want everything up close and personal.”
“Rather you than me,” said the other. “So long as it works for the subs, right?”
“They like to see the full street-view, if you know what I mean…”
The men laughed at one another.
In the hallway, Dan’s face was cast in shadow, but a hint of the orange light picked out the grim-set lines of his face. Dan shook his head. He had heard enough. He stepped around the edge of the doorway and peered in as the men moved around a bed draped in a garish red satin sheet. There were black velvet cushions laid on the bed, and more cushions laid on the floor at the side. The wall had been covered with a bad cartoon mural, a mock-up of a grey stone wall, while a very fake-looking rubber skeleton had been tied haphazardly onto the front of a wardrobe, which had also been covered with a sheet. A cheap looking candelabra with two red candles sat on the chest of drawers. And that was where the props budget had run out. In front of the bed, set on a microphone stand, was a double set of the white ear-shaped microphones Mark had told him about. There was an ear on either end of a short black rod. The ear-shaped mics had been set low down, close to the level of the bed. In one corner, mostly hidden by the bed itself, was a bottle of cheap berry crush fizz, and another bottle of cheap cider. Dan walked into the room and looked around, nodding his head in appreciation. “Nice job. You boys must be setting up a panto in here. Still, you haven’t left much room for the audience.”
Play With Fire Page 27