Blood Tracks

by Paula Rawsthorne

  Gina glanced through the window into the empty living room before turning the key in the lock. She pushed the door open, pausing on the doorstep, watching and listening. The house was silent. She stepped inside and immediately noticed her mum’s mobile on the hall table.

  No wonder she hasn’t been answering!

  The red light from the landline answer machine blinked at her from the table. One message – her message. No one was home.

  Gina felt her shoulders relax as she started to lift her bag off her shoulder and over her head. She froze, the bag suspended in mid-air: she could hear a faint wheezing sound coming from behind the kitchen door. It came again and again at regular intervals.

  An image flashed into her head – someone collapsed on the kitchen floor, struggling for breath. Danny? Mum?

  “Danny!” Gina ran down the hallway, flinging open the kitchen door. She jolted to a halt at the sight of the wheezing figure sitting in her kitchen, flanked by Tom Cotter and a burly man in a shiny suit. She recognized him. He was the man who’d been standing in the street the day their house had been broken into.

  “Gina, don’t panic. We’re here to talk to you,” Tom said, approaching her.

  She bolted back down the hallway, grappling with the doorknob, which suddenly felt like it had been smothered in butter. Tom was behind her like a shadow, his outstretched hand holding the door shut. She was trapped! He’d just take the diamonds from her; this wasn’t how it was meant to be.

  Her survival instinct kicked in – she snapped at him, sinking her teeth into the sinews of his hand, biting down until she drew blood. Tom yelped, tearing his hand from her mouth, looking at her in disbelief. She didn’t hesitate. As soon as he removed his hand from the door Gina took her chance. She opened it and rushed out onto the pavement, nearly knocking over a woman walking her dog. The woman seemed about to shout at her, but saw the wild look on Gina’s face and the two men who charged out of the house after her. Her dog barked, warningly.

  Tom grabbed hold of Gina’s arm.

  “Let’s go back inside,” he growled, blood springing from the teeth marks on his hand.

  The woman put her hand on Gina’s shoulder. “Are you all right, love?” she asked, eyeing up the two intimidating men.

  “She’s fine,” Tom answered. “I’m a family friend. It’s family business. Come back in the house, Gina, and we’ll sort this out.”

  “Is that right? Are you okay?” the woman asked again.

  “Yes,” Gina said, taking Tom by surprise. “But I’m not going back in the house. They can go back in, I’m staying here.”

  The woman waited until the men retreated. Tom had to stand behind Sissouma, as the man’s frame filled the whole doorway.

  Gina turned to the concerned woman. “Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” The woman nodded, coaxing her barking dog away.

  Sissouma tried to take control of the situation. “Come in, please, young lady. It’s no good doing business on the doorstep. These are private matters.”

  “I’d rather stay here.”

  “Very well. I’m sure by the end of our conversation you’ll be persuaded to enter. Now, where to begin. Firstly, Gina…that is your name, isn’t it? I believe that you have something in your possession that belongs to me.”

  “How do you know that they’re yours? Tom Cotter says that they’re his and I think that they belong to my dad.”

  “‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive’,” Sissouma quoted with a flourish. “It appears that Mr. Cotter was hoping to cheat me out of my diamonds today, although he’s trying to persuade me that it was all a silly misunderstanding. What do you think, Gina, should I give him the benefit of the doubt?”

  She looked beyond Sissouma to Tom; the muscles in his face were twitching.

  “I wouldn’t trust him,” she said coldly.

  “Then you’re a wise young woman. But let’s speak frankly. Those stones didn’t belong to your father either. He was a thief. He stole them from me. He caused a great deal of trouble, but you now have a chance to make amends.”

  “My dad wasn’t a thief!”

  “I’m afraid the facts prove that he was. Now please, return my property.”

  “What if I don’t give them to you?”

  Sissouma shook his head, his eyes downcast. “Then there will be terrible consequences for you and your family. And it will be when you least expect it. Maybe you will be lying in your beds one night and you’ll awake to find the house engulfed in flames… It will be such a terrible accident.”

  Tears of fear welled up in Gina’s eyes.

  “Don’t look so worried, Gina. Once you’ve given me my stones the matter will be closed – order will be restored. You’ll never see me again, I promise. Now, in you come.” He beckoned her inside.

  But Gina didn’t move. Her eyes flittered from one end of the street to the other, her heart pounding; her decision made.

  “Tell Tom Cotter,” she shouted into the hallway, “if he wants the diamonds, he’ll have to come and get them.” She turned on her heels and fled up the street.

  An incensed Sissouma stood aside and addressed Tom.

  “Bring back my property,” he hissed “or you are a dead man.”

  Tom bolted out of the doorway like a greyhound out of its trap, his sights set on Gina, who was blazing up the road in her school uniform, her shoulder bag banging against her side.

  Tom saw her turn left at the top of the road but, by the time he reached the intersection, she was nowhere to be seen. He knew that she could have disappeared down any of the alleyways which led off from the main road and behind the houses on the side streets. He started to run along the road, looking down each alley, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

  Gina made her way down, across and up the labyrinth of cobbled alleyways, traversing street after street until she reached the backyard that she was looking for. She smiled with relief on seeing the gate was open. She scanned the lane, checked that no one was looking and entered the yard, rapping on the back door, praying he was in.

  Declan couldn’t shake them off. From the bathroom window the two officers had been able to see the direction he was heading in. They’d radioed for support and he’d found his path blocked as he reached the top of Gina’s street. He’d panicked and begun running around the alleys like a headless chicken, the policemen closing in on him. He had to get out of there! He made it to the end of the alleyway opposite the entrance to the docks and recklessly sprinted across the heaving road.

  He waved frantically at the security guard on the gate.

  “Dave! Raise the barrier, quick!”

  Dave seemed amused. “You’re a bit keen to get back to work, aren’t you, Declan?”

  The breathless Declan put his thumb up in thanks and scarpered into the docks.

  Dave was still smiling after him when, a minute later, two panting officers and a police car with its siren whirring appeared in front of him.

  Gina left the yard and headed for the dock road. She’d done the best that she could under the circumstances but things weren’t going to plan and she was plagued by doubt.

  Oh my God! Have I just made a massive mistake? They may not even remember what I told them. But what other choice did I have? Where the hell is Declan?

  She paced up and down the pavement of the busy road, making herself as visible as possible. As the minutes ticked by, she became more stressed – what if he didn’t find her?

  She gave a sigh of relief when Tom Cotter appeared from one of the side streets and spotted her. She waited until he got closer and then she started to run.

  Daylight was fading as she sprinted along the canal with Tom in pursuit. Tom’s leather shoes pinched his feet, his tie flapped up into his face, his arms pumped, his legs pounded. Gina had stamina but Tom had speed. He was gaining on her. As Gina looked behind at him, her foot dipped into a pothole in the towpath and sent her flying forward. She scra
ped along the cobbles. Her tights ripped, her knees burned and her shoe got stuck in the pothole.

  She saw Tom come skidding past her as he tried to stop. He halted and started to walk back towards her, hands on hips, panting heavily. He couldn’t see what Gina saw: a teenager on a bike, racing along the towpath at the speed of light. Gina saw the look of bemusement on Tom’s face as she suddenly rolled to the side of the path. An aggressive shout came from behind Tom: “Get out of the way!” But he didn’t have time to react before the cyclist rocketed past him, clipping his shoulder, sending him stumbling over the edge and into the green waters of the canal.

  Gina picked herself up. She glanced at her smarting knees, checked in her shoulder bag to see that she still had everything and headed back to retrieve her shoe. But Tom was already clawing his way out of the canal, looking like a swamp creature, covered in a layer of green scum.

  She had to abandon her shoe and keep going, blocking out the pain in her knees, and the jarring of her foot against the cobbles. She skirted around a young couple having a stroll along the stagnant canal. Seconds later she heard their cries of protest as Tom ploughed through them. He put a spurt on, closing the gap, getting so close that he lunged at her, but his fingers slid down her back, unable to get a hold. She pulled away. She heard his breathing turn ragged, losing any rhythm. That’s when she knew that she could outrun him, that’s when she kept her pace steady and led the exhausted man to where she wanted them to be.

  Gina made it. She got out her phone and left a breathless message.

  “Declan, where are you? I’m at the bridge, the place we first met. Tom’s going to be here any second… He’s here! I can see him! I’m going to make him tell me the truth. I’ve got to go.”

  Danny opened the front door and stepped inside the house.

  Everything’s okay, he reassured himself. Uncle Tom will still be at work. Mum and Gina will be home soon. I’ll just play Xbox until they get back.

  As he swung the door shut, a man lunged from behind it, slapping his hand across the boy’s mouth. Danny’s eyes were huge with shock.

  “Shush now,” Mr. Sissouma told him. “The last thing I want to do is to hurt you.”

  The port police were quickly informed about the suspect: a seventeen-year-old called Declan Doyle, who worked in Cotter’s cocoa warehouse. He’d been seen running into the port area only minutes before.

  They checked on their database for his security ID and a photo of his cheeky, smiling face appeared on the screen. It wasn’t long before they spotted him on their bank of CCTV screens. They put a call out – the suspect was heading for the warehouse.

  Declan thought he’d slipped into the warehouse unseen. The sliding doors were fully open and his workmates were too busy loading up a truck to notice him. He disappeared down an aisle and secreted himself amongst the sacks, but less than a minute later he heard a kerfuffle, as a mixture of security guards and police arrived at the entrance, demanding to search the building.

  Kylie tottered out of the office.

  “What’s this about, fellas?” she asked.

  “An employee here, Declan Doyle. He’s resisted arrest. He’s been seen running into the warehouse. We need to look for him,” one of the officers said.

  “What’s he meant to have done?” Kyle asked, shocked.

  “He obstructed a police officer.”

  “Oh, is that all,” Kylie said, raising an eyebrow. “He’s hardly on the Most Wanted List, then.”

  “This is serious. We don’t need your permission to search the premises,” the police officer said, walking past Kylie and her workmates.

  Kylie hurried back into the office to call Tom.

  He needs to know what’s happening, she thought. However, Tom was far too busy to answer his phone.

  Declan quickly shifted the sacks around him to make a hiding space. He held his breath as footsteps echoed down the aisle. They stopped in front of him. He cringed as he noticed his trainer was sticking out between the sacks. He inched it out of sight, but he was too late.

  The cry went up, “Over here! Aisle Six.”

  Declan kicked the sacks at the policeman and scrambled into the aisle. He started to run but was met by a blockade of uniformed men. He turned to try the other way but now both ends were covered. They stampeded towards him. He spotted the rolling ladder attached to the shelves and realized that the only way was up! He climbed to the top like a demented monkey and stepped off, onto the highest shelf. Looking down, he saw that two of the officers were already on their way up.

  Declan ran along the top of the long, towering shelf. Puffs of cocoa dust burst into the air with every step, but his path of sacks was uneven and kept sliding dangerously beneath his feet. His pursuers were too nervous to look down. They followed him with slow, shuffling steps. There was no need to hurry, anyway. The boy had reached the very end of the shelving. Where could he possibly go from here?

  “It’s the end of the line, son,” one of the officers called as he shuffled towards Declan. “So why don’t we all just get down from here before we break our bloody necks?”

  Declan moved to one side of the shelf and started rocking on his feet like he was powering himself up.

  “No way!” said the man in alarm. “Don’t be crazy. You could kill yourself!”

  Declan ignored him, keeping his focus on the shelf on the next aisle and trying not to think of the two-metre gap between them and the twelve-metre drop below. He gritted his teeth and ran across the width of the shelf before leaping into the air. His outstretched arms slammed down on the shelf opposite. He dug his fingers into the stored sacks and tried to lever up his dangling body, but terror gripped him as he felt the sacks starting to slide. There were gasps from the ground below as he started to slip. Declan grabbed for the next sack along, like he was on the monkey bars in a playground. He prayed that it could take his weight as he started to haul himself up.

  He felt like kissing those sacks of beans as he lay safely on top of them for a brief moment, but he had no time to waste; he was quickly up and running, locating the aisle’s rolling ladder. His pursuers suddenly lost sight of him as he slid down the ladder. They ran around to where he should have landed, but he was gone.

  Kylie had been craning her neck, watching Declan’s escape attempt with her heart in her mouth. She too had lost sight of him and went back to the office to try Tom again but, as she crossed her legs under her desk, they hit something.

  “Aww,” Declan whimpered, as her stiletto dug into his ribs.

  She looked under the desk, her mouth open.

  “Declan,” she hissed.

  “Ssshh.” He put his finger to his lips, breathing heavily.

  “Hello, officer!” Kylie suddenly announced. “Have you lost him?” Declan curled up in a ball. Kylie’s long legs pressed against him.

  “Don’t worry. He can’t stay hidden for ever,” the officer said confidently. “He’s a mad lad though, isn’t he – did you see that jump?”

  “Yeah, and he’s probably legged it out of the warehouse by now. You won’t mind if I don’t see you out? We’re trying to get the deliveries sorted.”

  “We’ll go when we’re good and ready,” the policeman said gruffly.

  Clare sighed with relief as she walked into her hallway. She was looking forward to a relaxing night in. She half hoped that Tom wouldn’t visit tonight. She wanted to spend some time on her own with the kids. She put her bag on the table and spotted her mobile.

  “There it is.” She tutted to herself. “I’d lose my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

  But a sense of unease descended on her. The house seemed far too quiet, no TV, no music, no footsteps from upstairs.

  They can’t be doing their homework! Clare thought incredulously.

  She called out, “Gina! Danny! How was school? I’ve brought home a steak pie. I hope you two haven’t been eating loads of biscuits, you’ll spoil your tea.”

  The sight of Mr. Sissouma and Mr. Eg
on emerging from her living room made Clare jump.

  “Who are you?”

  “Please don’t be alarmed,” Mr. Sissouma said. “We are business associates of Tom Cotter’s.” Mr. Egon gave a sharp bow and a sickly smile.

  “Mr. Cotter had to leave on an urgent matter and asked us to wait here. He shouldn’t be long. He’s told us that you wouldn’t mind. He said that you were a most hospitable lady.”

  “Where are my children?” she asked anxiously.

  “Gina is out, I believe, and your delightful son is in here.”

  The men ushered her into the living room where she found a drained-looking Danny on the sofa.

  “What’s happened, Danny?” Clare asked in alarm as she saw the destroyed tank.

  Danny remained silent.

  “A little accident,” Sissouma reassured her.

  Clare turned and headed for the hall.

  “Where are you going, Mrs. Wilson?”

  “I’m going to phone Tom. Find out what this is about,” she said firmly.

  “It’s not a good time to phone him. He’s busy.”

  “Please don’t tell me what to do. In fact I think it’s best that you and your colleague wait somewhere else for Tom. Why don’t you go to his warehouse?” She gestured to the door.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilson. I’m afraid I must insist we stay here until Tom returns.”

  “And I must insist you leave. I’m busy. This isn’t a good time.”

  Mr. Sissouma snatched her mobile from the table and put it into his jacket pocket. “There will be no phone calls. Please sit down quietly with your son. He needs his mother to set a good example. Once Mr. Cotter returns everything will be all right.”

  She watched as Tom, bent double and panting, wiped the green scum from his face and hair.

  “For God’s sake, Gina, why have you brought me here?”

  “You know what happened here, don’t you?” she said, keeping her distance from him.