The Crew

by Bali Rai

  I glared at him, willing him dead with the power of my thoughts. All in vain.

  ‘. . . and as for this beautiful young girl . . . what can I say? She certainly doesn’t mind a bit of rough, now does she . . .?’ He let his hands grope Della again.

  The way he was touching Della set off an explosion of rage in my head. I leapt from my position on the floor, up at his neck, my hands grabbing his stubbly throat and squeezing. At the same time Della stamped down on his shin and foot. My vision blurred red as the blood smashed its way through my brain like a river bursting its banks, and I used all my weight to push Ratnett towards the table. The shock of such a sudden attack sent Ratnett backwards and he crashed onto the table, with me holding onto him – breaking the table in two.

  Della managed to wriggle free as the gun went off, sending a bullet ricocheting around the room. The others ducked for cover. Ratnett tried to push me off with one hand, as he attempted to aim his gun with the other, but Della stamped on his arm and he let out a yelp of pain as the bones snapped like twigs. Suddenly he was pulled off me and Nanny was helping me to my feet. I cleared my head in time to see Ronnie and Della set about Ratnett with blow after blow. Will grabbed Della and pulled her away, telling her to calm down. Ronnie just carried on – grunting with the effort. Ratnett crumpled on the floor, out cold.

  Will and Della then finished untying Jas, Nanny shouting at us to hurry and get out. His words were muffled. I couldn’t hear a thing. My ears had popped and my nostrils were burning with the smell of gunshot. I looked at Ronnie, who smiled his sardonic smile and then picked up his bag of money again. Into it he put both guns, the wrapped cocaine, baseball bat and crowbar. Will grabbed Della, who was sobbing with shock, and led her out, leaving Jas to me. I went to follow them but then stopped to face Ronnie.

  ‘You would have just let him go, wouldn’t you?’ I said. ‘If that bastard had taken your deal.’ My voice sounded strange to my own ears – like it was in slow motion or something. Spoken through water. And then my ears popped again.

  Nanny walked over, supporting Jas. ‘Yeah, Ronnie,’ he said. ‘What was all a dat shit ’bout a deal, man?’

  ‘Relax Norris – it was just business. You’re all off the hook, and between your evidence and this place, Ratnett’s up shit creek. That leaves a nice hole in the market. Someone will take over. Might as well be me, my dread. Anyway, forget that – I’m taking our friend Mr Ratnett with me. We’re gonna have a little talk about things and then I’m gonna ask him to record a little confession . . .’

  ‘What if he doesn’t?’ I said.

  ‘Oh, he will,’ laughed Ronnie. ‘Trust me.’ He hoisted Ratnett over one shoulder as if he were bag of potatoes or something. I looked at him and he smiled. ‘See yer around, kid,’ he said. ‘And don’t worry about Busta – that nonce is getting what he deserves.’

  ‘But he might mention you,’ I said.

  ‘Doubt it – but even if he does – I was never here, was I?’ He grinned at me.

  ‘Nice one, Ronnie,’ I replied. ‘See you around.’

  ‘Yeah, you probably will. Say hello to yer old man for me,’ he said.

  ‘You what . . .?’ I asked, wondering what the hell he was talking about, but he didn’t reply, disappearing down the back stairs and out onto Seymour Road.

  Will and Della were waiting in the corridor and Jas leaned against me as I helped him out to join them. He was stoned out of his mind, his eyes opening wide for a few moments and then drooping shut. He was mumbling to himself. ‘Gonna kill him, guy. Innit? Mess with me . . . man gwan get knock out, y’know . . .’

  I stifled a laugh. He sounded like Prince Naseem.

  A banging noise from the front entrance to the house, barely seconds later, announced DI Elliot’s arrival. Talk about timing – it was as though Ronnie could smell the arrival of coppers. The front door sounded as though it were being smashed down and then the sound of heavy footsteps approached closer and closer.

  ‘So what do we tell her this time?’ I asked Nanny as the police came round the corner.

  ‘Listen,’ whispered Nanny urgently. ‘We tell dem everyting wha’ happen. Jus’ don’t mention Ronnie, see?’

  ‘But what about Ratnett?’ asked Will.

  ‘Tell her him run away,’ he replied.

  Just then DI Elliot came out of the side entrance with two other coppers. She looked stunned to see us all standing there with Jas, who was still doing his Prince Naseem act.

  ‘What the bloody hell are you doing here?’ she demanded.

  I looked at Nanny. ‘You tell her,’ I said.

  Nanny smiled. ‘Nah, man – I an’ I nuh deal wid Babylon.’ He grinned. ‘Tell her yuh raasclaat self, Sleepy.’

  Elliot looked ready to explode. ‘Well?’ she asked, glaring at me.

  Jas answered. ‘. . . Wha’? Hold me prisoner man? Man’s getting knocked the fuck out – you gets me?’

  I started to laugh.

  thirty-nine:

  later

  AND THAT’S PRETTY much how it all ended. DI Elliot spent a week interviewing all of us, every day. She wanted to know about the bullet they’d found in the room, and what had happened to Ratnett. Whether there had been anyone else there that night. How we had known about the hideaway. The cocaine powder on the floor, the broken table, the fire escape – everything. We told her the same story, all of us. An anonymous phone call had tipped us off about Jas’s whereabouts – another young girl, yes – and she hadn’t given us her name, no. We had gone to the house, found the side entrance open and been told by a youth on a bike that some man had just legged it out of there, brandishing a gun.

  Elliot asked for a description of the lad on the bike and she got one. Average height, normal build, black lad – could have been Asian – wearing a baseball cap, baggy jeans and a hooded top. No other distinguishing features. It could have described most of the young males in the ghetto – and that was the point.

  ‘And there was definitely no one else present?’ she’d asked me.

  ‘Nah,’ I’d said to her.

  ‘Just your friend – tied up and alone?’

  ‘Yeah. Looked like someone had been in a fight – there was a broken table, a few spots of blood on the floor. But no other person.’

  DI Elliot had the blood matched and DNA-tested and it turned out that she had two different samples. One belonged to Ratnett and the other one was unknown. But it proved that someone else had been in that room. She put that to me during my last interview but I just shrugged.

  ‘Might be that there was someone else,’ I said, pausing to see her get all excited, thinking I was going to add more to my previous statements. She’d have had a long wait. ‘Yeah, maybe there was,’ I continued. ‘But they must have gone before we arrived because when we got up there we just found a lot of mess and an incoherent Jas.’

  That seemed to stall her questions and eventually she let us leave for the last time. As we stood outside waiting for my mum to pick us up, Elliot came out to join us.

  ‘You know – not a lot of this makes sense,’ she said, not looking at me but out at the traffic passing by on the ring road.

  ‘What doesn’t?’ I asked innocently.

  ‘It’s just all too convenient.’

  I looked at her and smiled. ‘Sometimes things just happen that way. Have you found Ratnett yet?’

  ‘No – but we’re still looking. Won’t be long.’

  ‘Good,’ I replied.

  ‘Love to know who the other sample of blood belongs too.’

  ‘Well, haven’t you got a database that you can check it against?’ Della asked, guessing that they wouldn’t find a match. Ronnie’s last brush with the law had been years before they had started taking DNA samples as standard procedure – or so Nanny had told us.

  ‘The person who left the blood isn’t on the national system. Yet.’ She turned to face us all, smiling. ‘Let’s hope I don’t see you and your friends again too soon,’ she added.

>   It was my turn to smile. ‘You never know, DI Elliot. You just never know.’

  ‘Man, I can’t believe that we conned the Babylon like that!’ laughed Della a few days later.

  We were all in my bedroom, gathered around, talking about everything that had happened. Jas was back to his old self again after spending a few days in hospital. He had been our saviour as far as duping the police had gone. When they found us, Jas was taken straight to the hospital, his bloodstream full of a date-rape drug called GBH. They kept him there, and because he was so out of his head the police got little sense from him. When they did try and question him, they got a strange dope story about how he had been flying with his mates over the city – not in a plane, but with wings, like a bird. The next thing he remembered was that he was in a room with Prince Naseem Hamed, and the boxer was trying to spar with him. ‘He was tryin’ to knock me down, innit? So I jus’ box him a lick and that.’

  After that he told them that three men had broken into the room and Prince Naseem had vanished. He had no idea who the men were but there were definitely three. As for Ratnett, he remembered him. Ratnett had held a gun to his head, abducted him, threatened to kill him and then given him something to drink.

  ‘Geezer smelt wack, y’know – like he’d not had a shower for a year. Rank, man, rank. Dutty Babylon.’

  Della was still talking. ‘That fool – fool bwoi Ratnett best not let me get to him first.’

  ‘Is what you gonna do?’ laughed Will.

  Della snarled at him. ‘Plenty, William. Plenty,’ she replied.

  ‘Hey, sister – I’ve told you – nuh bother call me William.’

  ‘Wha’? You would rather I call you Willy? ’Cos that’s yer choice, bwoi.’

  Will scowled at her but she just ignored him – as usual.

  ‘So didn’t Ronnie Maddix tell you where he was taking the policeman?’ asked Ellie.

  ‘Oh yeah, Ellie,’ answered Jas. ‘Like he was gonna tell us. Believe dat, man.’

  ‘Oh you nasty old people – I was only asking.’

  ‘Ellie, please shut up and listen,’ said Della. Ellie looked hurt and then pretended to sulk – until I reached over and pinched her arm.

  ‘Oww!’

  ‘Oh, Baby! Stop being so silly!’ I said, grinning.

  ‘Old man,’ she replied, mumbling under her breath.

  Della sighed and then continued to dis Ratnett. Will added something about how lucky Ratnett was that he hadn’t managed to get hold of him.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ replied Jas, laughing. ‘You was really the big hero. Check it – Big Willy. Super-hero.’

  ‘At least I never got found off me head, chatting to Prince Naseem’s ghost,’ replied Will.

  At that we all burst into laughter – apart, that is, from Jas, who sat where he was and looked sullen. ‘Weren’t funny, y’know,’ he said, looking to Della for support. She blew him a kiss and then winked at Ellie, who started to giggle some more.

  There was a knock at the door. I got up from where I was crouched on the floor, against my bed, and let Nanny in.

  ‘Billy, yuh have a visitor,’ he told me.

  ‘Who?’ I said.

  Nanny just shrugged his shoulders. ‘Maybe you bettah jus’ check fe yuhself, man,’ he replied.

  I told the others that I’d be back in a minute and made my way downstairs. Nanny followed me and in the hallway he nodded towards the living room. ‘In deh,’ he told me, making his way to the kitchen. ‘Lynden.’

  I opened the living-room door and my heart nearly jumped out of my mouth. My dad.

  He was sitting on the sofa, wearing a long, black leather coat, leather trousers and black boots. He had on a black shirt too, open necked, with gold chains hanging from his neck. Like an ageing Ragga star.

  ‘Easy, Billy,’ he said, grinning.

  I caught my emotions, feeling ashamed of myself. Like I was letting down my mum and Nanny. ‘All right,’ I replied coldly.

  ‘How’s things, man?’ he asked.

  ‘Cool. Everything’s cool, Dad.’

  He grinned some more. ‘And your mum – how’s she doin’?’

  ‘She’s cool too,’ I replied, noticing that he had a couple of teeth missing. ‘You been fighting?’ I asked, pointing at his mouth.

  He laughed, getting up gingerly. ‘Ronnie said to say hello.’

  ‘Ronnie?’ I played dumb.

  ‘Yeah. I work with him,’ said my dad.

  I looked him up and down, trying to remember the last time I had seen him. The trouble was that I had no idea when I had seen him last. It had been a long, long time ago. He hadn’t changed that much. He looked away.

  ‘Ronnie said to say thank you. He found the old nonce that kidnapped your girlfriend – Ellie, is it? Anyway the old pervert won’t be touching no more girls from now on.’

  I shook my head. ‘She ain’t my—’ I began, but my dad interrupted.

  ‘Whatever, Billy. Ronnie also told me to say that the copper you have in common will be giving himself up any day now.’

  Ratnett.

  ‘What did he do to him – and to the kidnapper?’ I asked, knowing that I wouldn’t get an answer.

  ‘Come on, Billy, you know I can’t tell you that,’ he said.

  ‘So why are you here?’

  He walked towards me, his hand going into his coat pocket. I noticed that he was walking with a limp. From his pocket he produced an envelope – a brown, sealed one that looked padded. He threw it at me, smiling as I caught it one-handed.

  ‘What’s this?’ I asked, looking at it.

  ‘A present from Ronnie,’ he said. He must have seen the look on my face because he held up his hands. ‘No strings, Billy. It’s just a thank-you. He doesn’t want anything for it.’

  ‘How do you know?’ I asked.

  ‘Because it’s from me too – me an’ Ronnie are partners.’

  I wanted to give the envelope back as much as I wanted to take it. My dad was in with Ronnie Maddix now – so I knew he was up to no good. How could I take a present from either of them? I knew what it was too – money. And judging by the weight of it – a lot of money.

  ‘It’s five grand,’ he said, not even flinching. ‘Yours.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ I told him.

  ‘Say nothing. Just take it and do something with it. Your mum would say go to college or something.’

  ‘OK.’

  He walked right up to me and held out his hand. I shook it and then gave him a hug. I had wanted to do it as soon as I’d seen him but something had held me back. When I let him go there were tears in my eyes. He gave me his mobile number and told me to call him. We arranged to go out for a drink, me, my dad and my real dad, Nanny.

  And then he left, limping out of the house and into a shiny black Audi A4. I watched him drive off and then made my way back upstairs. As I entered my room, I had a thought. I threw the envelope at Jas. ‘You know that show up in Manchester?’ I said to him.

  ‘Yeah – what about it?’ he replied, looking at the envelope.

  ‘We’re all going,’ I said quietly, gesturing at the envelope.

  Jas opened it and held up the contents. Will, Ellie and Della took in some breath before looking at me.

  ‘Where’d that come from?’ asked Della.

  I smiled. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ I told them. ‘Best left alone.’

  ‘Oh, stop being so mysterious, you old man,’ said Ellie, grinning.

  ‘Ellie . . .?’ we all said in unison.

  She pouted at us and grinned. ‘I know . . . I know – shut up . . .’

  A big thank you to Penny and Jennifer Luithlen, and everyone at Random House.

  To all the schools, pupils and librarians who voted for me in various awards, especially everyone at Angus, Stockport and the Leicester Book Award. And extra-special thanks to the K. Blundell Trust for their support.

  To all the pupils in schools around the country who tell me what they’d like to read.

/>   Once again, to my sister Avi and Jes, her husband, and my mum, for their continued support – big love.

  To my friends Jeff, Parmy, Ben, Anna and everyone else – for their encouragement. Nice one.

  Thanks to Mick, Julia and Christopher Sykes, and to Jane Sykes for being my best girl.

  A big kiss to Jasmine for the website, the opinions and the conversations.

  And finally, to Irene, Kate and Nancy and the whole Dooher clan – with the most love; and for Fran ‘Smiler’ Dooher – I miss you. R.I.P.

  About the Author

  BALI RAI is a writer from Leicester. Sometimes he is young and exciting, but mostly he is too busy trying to get his next project in on time. As a Politics graduate, if he absolutely had to get a real job, he’d pick journalism. For now, he is happy to write although he quite misses working behind a bar. This is more than made up for, however, by the fact that he can now get out of bed when he likes, and that nice people keep on asking him to visit them in wonderful places all over Europe. He’d like to mention, too, that he isn’t married, doesn’t want to get married, and doesn’t really want to work in Bollywood – although, judging by the photo, he may have no choice in the matter.

  The Crew is his second book for Corgi Books. The first, (un)arranged marriage, appeared on a number of award shortlists and won the Angus Book Award, the Leicester Book of the Year Award and the Stockport Schools Award. He was also threatened on the radio by an old Punjabi woman with what appeared to be a sandal. He thinks it may have been his mum, but isn’t too sure. Until he finds out, he’ll carry on writing his next story and try to stay out of sight.

  Also available by Bali Rai,

  and published by Corgi Books:

  (un)arranged marriage

  Winner of the Angus Book Award Winner of the Leicester Book of the Year Award Winner of the Stockport Schools Award Shortlisted for the Lancashire Children’s Book Award, the North East Book Award, the South Lanarkshire Book Award, Wirral Paperback of the Year and the Branford Boase Award