Johnny Delgado Private Detective

by Kevin Brooks

  “My dad?” I couldn’t believe it. “A letter about my dad?”

  “Yeah ... haven’t you seen it?”

  “I don’t know anything about any letter. What did it say?”

  Della hesitated again. “It didn’t say who it was from it wasn’t signed …”

  “But what did it say, Della?”

  “Whoever wrote it … they said they knew who killed your dad. They named him.”

  I couldn’t speak for a moment. I was too confused. Too shocked.

  “Johnny?” said Della. “Are you still there?”

  “Who did it?” I said quietly. “Who killed my dad?”

  “Someone called Jones,” Della said. “Lester Jones."

  It was too much. Everything was just too much.

  My mind went blank and I stared at the floor.

  Lester Jones was Tyrell Jones’s father.

  Chapter 9

  Something and Nothing

  “Johnny? Yo, Johnny D! You there? Hey, Delgado? Hey, HEY ... speak to me.”

  The voice on the phone seemed miles away. I was miles away. My mind was still blank. I couldn’t think.

  The voice called out again. “Hey! HEY! HEY!”

  Still in a daze, I lifted my hand from my lap and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Delgado? Christ, what are you doing? I thought you’d died or something.”

  It was Marcus.

  “Sorry …” I mumbled. “I was just thinking …”

  “You ain’t got time to think. You’re up to your neck in shit. I told you not to go messing with Kirk.”

  “Yeah …”

  “All right, listen,” he said. “You listening?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Right, talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

  I told Marcus everything. From getting beaten up in the elevator, to wheeling Betty Travis out of the West Tower and across to the North, then talking to Mom and Della on the phone. Everything. When I’d finished, Marcus was quiet for a second or two, and I imagined him sitting in his apartment with the phone to his ear, thinking hard.

  “OK,” he said after a while. “I think I get it.”

  “Kirk set me up,” I said.

  “Of course he did,” Marcus said with a sigh. “I knew that before I even spoke to you. I just didn’t know how he did it.”

  “Do you know now?”

  “The guy in the elevator ... you said he was carrying a bottle?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They drugged you. After they’d beaten you up, they made you drink whatever was in the bottle. It was probably full of Roofies or something.”

  “What are Roofies?”

  “You know, they’re the date-rape drug. Roofies make you feel drunk and sleepy, and when you wake up you can’t remember anything. They drugged you, killed Tyrell, then left you in his apartment with the knife they’d used to murder Tyrell. Then they called the cops.”

  “What about the letter they found in the bathroom?” I asked him. “I don’t understand—”

  “It’s a fake,” he said. “Kirk probably wrote it. Carly and Beth planted it when they were at your place.”

  “Why?”

  “It gives you a reason for killing Tyrell. You get a letter saying his dad killed your dad, you’ve got a reason to kill him.”

  “That’s crazy. I wouldn’t—”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Marcus said. “The police are looking for you. They’re not looking for Kirk, are they?”

  He was right, of course. I could see it all now. Marcus was right. He’d been right all along. And I’d been even stupider than I thought.

  “Where are you now?” Marcus said.

  “On the roof. You go up to the top floor—”

  “Yeah, I know how to get there. Are you in the shed?”

  “How do you know about the shed?”

  He laughed. “I know everything.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Just stay there, OK? I’ll be with you in about 20 minutes.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “You’ll find out when I get there,” he said.

  It was a long 20 minutes. I sat in the shed for a while, just trying to think, but there was too much going on in my head. Too many feelings, too many emotions.

  Fear.

  Anger.

  Shame.

  Sadness

  When Della had told me about the letter, I’d felt something stir inside me. The idea that Lester Jones had killed my dad … well, it was something. Something to hold on to. A name, at last. A suspect. Someone to blame.

  But now, now that I knew it wasn’t true ...

  Now there was nothing again.

  I stopped thinking and went out onto the roof.

  The night air was really cold now. Cold and fresh and silent. The sky was pitch black, and the world stretched out beneath me. Twenty-three floors below. I stood on the edge of the roof and looked down. In the glow of the flashing blue lights, I could see the dim outline of the square. The lock-up garages. The dumpsters. The benches.

  Twenty-three floors below.

  It was a long way down.

  Chapter 10

  How Do You Think It Feels?

  When the door to the roof opened, I was surprised to see that Marcus wasn’t alone. I was even more surprised when I saw who was with him. As he came through the door, I saw the giant figure of Toog behind him. And behind Toog, being dragged by his hair, was Lee Kirk.

  “Hey, Johnny,” Marcus said, “how’s it going?”

  I looked at Toog. He grinned at me. He was dragging Lee Kirk in one huge hand, almost lifting him off his feet. Kirk was squirming and twisting around, gripping Toog’s hand to stop his hair being pulled out by the roots. His nose was bleeding and one of his eyes was black and blue and swollen.

  The three of them came over to me, and we stood there together at the edge of the roof. I put my hand in my pocket and felt for Betty’s phone.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Marcus.

  “Not much,” he said. “I just thought it was time we had a little chat with The Man here. You know, get things sorted …” He glanced at Kirk. “What do you think, Lee? You feel like talking?”

  Kirk glared at him. “You’re a dead man, Hood. You’re finished—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Marcus said calmly. “You’ve already told me all that. It’s getting kind of boring. How about telling us something else?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how you set Johnny up, for a start.”

  Kirk spat on the floor, then grinned coldly at me. “How’s your head, kid? You look a bit pale.” He laughed. “Hey, I hear you found out who killed your old man. Is that right?”

  I stared at him.

  “Lester Jones, eh?” He laughed again. “Who’d have thought it? I knew all those rumors weren’t true.”

  “What rumors?” I said.

  Kirk looked at Marcus. “Doesn’t he know?”

  “Shut up, Kirk,” Marcus said.

  Kirk ignored him, turning back to me with a grin. “Your old man ... they say he was taken out by another cop. A contract hit.” He raised his eyebrows. He thought it was funny that I was so shocked. “Didn’t you know? I thought everyone knew that.”

  I looked at Marcus. “What’s he talking about?’

  “Nothing,” Marcus said quickly. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to wind you up.” He turned to Kirk, his eyes suddenly hard. “You talk too much.”

  “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

  “How about I throw you off the roof?”

  Kirk shook his head. “If you think you can scare me—”

  “I’m not trying to scare you,” Marcus said simply. “I’m just going to kill you.” He glanced up at Toog. “Ready?”

  Toog nodded.

  “Do it,” Marcus told him.

  Toog raised his hand and started dragging Kirk towards the edge of the roof. For a moment or two, Kirk di
dn’t do anything. He didn’t believe they were serious. He thought they were just bluffing. But as Toog dragged him ever closer to the edge, Kirk began to see that maybe they weren’t bluffing after all, and that’s when he started to panic.

  “Hey … hold on,” he shouted, “come on, don’t be stupid … no, you can’t … hey, lemme go …”

  He was digging his heels in now, struggling hard. His eyes were white with fear as he tried to free himself from Toog’s giant hand. But Toog was too strong. He didn’t even wait, just pulled Kirk right up to the edge of the roof, then grabbed him with both hands and lifted him off his feet …

  And I thought that was it.

  I really thought he was going to throw Kirk off.

  And maybe he would have.

  But just as he lifted him up, the door to the roof slammed open, and we all turned around to see who it was.

  It was Della. She was breathing heavily, and her face was sickly white. She was clutching a hand to her chest.

  “Della!” cried Marcus. “What the hell …? I told you to stay at home.”

  “I was worried,” she gasped. She looked over at me. “I just wanted to—”

  Thump.

  The sudden sound came from behind me. I turned round and saw Toog crashing to the ground. We’d all taken our eyes off Kirk for a moment. And while we weren’t watching him, he’d head-butted Toog and knocked him out. And now Kirk was going after Marcus.

  “Marcus!” I yelled.

  But I was too late. As Marcus turned around, Kirk flashed past me and laid Marcus out with a brutal punch to the head. I was too shocked to move. All I could do was stand there and watch as Kirk kicked Marcus in the head. Then he turned around and started running for the door.

  Della was too shocked to move, too. She was still standing in front of the door. Just standing there, staring at Kirk. He was running right at her.

  “Della!” I shouted. “Move! Get out of the way!”

  When she heard me screech at her like that, she moved — a fearful step to one side. But it didn’t do her any good. Because Kirk wasn’t running for the door, after all — he was running for her. I watched in horror as he swerved to one side and grabbed her by the hand. Then he started dragging her back across the roof towards me.

  I looked around. Marcus was still out of it, groaning quietly on the ground, and Toog was just lying there like a fallen tree. I looked back at Kirk and Della.

  Della was grasping her chest. She could hardly breathe.

  Kirk was grinning at me.

  “Leave her alone,” I told him. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

  His grin got even bigger.

  “She’s sick,” I said. “She’s got a bad heart.”

  “Yeah? That’s a shame.”

  He jerked her hand. She stumbled and yelped. He dragged her to her feet and put his arm around her neck, then pushed her over to the edge of the roof. His eyes were shining with madness now. He was crazy. Grinning like a lunatic.

  “Fresh air,” he shouted at me. “That’s what you need when you’re sick — plenty of fresh air.” He leaned out over the edge and looked down, forcing Della to look down, too. She screamed. Kirk smiled madly at her, then looked at me. “How d’you think it feels?” he yelled. “You know, when you’re falling ... plunging down to the ground — how d’you think it feels? D’you think you think about anything? What d’you think, Delgado? What would you think about?”

  I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say. I kept my eyes fixed on Della. She was trembling and shaking in Kirk’s grip, but I could see she was still in control of herself.

  Kirk laughed. “Hey, d’you know what Tyrell said when I stabbed him? D’you know what he said? He said I was making a big mistake. Can you believe that? He’s lying there with a knife in his guts, and he says I’m making a big mistake.”

  Della winked at me.

  What was she trying to tell me?

  “See,” said Kirk, “the trouble with Tyrell was—”

  Della suddenly gasped, a loud painful gasp. Then she grabbed at her chest and went limp. Kirk didn’t know what to do next. He looked down at Della, slumped in his arms. Just for one moment he stepped back from her so as to hold her a different way. That was what Della was waiting for. As soon as she felt Kirk’s arm relax, she threw back her head and hit him in the face. Then she lifted her foot up and raked her boot down his shin. As Kirk swore and staggered back, Della spun out of his grip and quickly backed away from him. I reached out and pulled her towards me. Kirk lunged after her, trying to grab her arm, but his foot slipped and he missed. And as he fell over, I shoved him away.

  And he lost his balance.

  Toppled sideways.

  Over the edge of the roof.

  I don’t know why I lunged after him and grabbed his hand — I just did. I wasn’t thinking about it. I just saw him going over the edge, and the next thing I knew I was lying face down on the roof, with my head over the edge, and Kirk was swinging in my hand below me.

  His face peered up at me — petrified, sick, shocked.

  His body was twisting in the air.

  “Keep still,” I told him. I gritted my teeth. “Just hold on …”

  He was heavy.

  Twenty-three floors below, I could see crowds of people looking up, their tiny faces lit up in the eerie flashing blue lights from the police cars.

  It was a long way down.

  “Don’t let go,” Kirk whimpered. “Please … don’t drop me …”

  I looked at him. I felt strangely calm now. My arm was being pulled out of its socket, and my hand was throbbing, but my head was as clear as a bell.

  “Why did you set me up?” I said.

  “What?” he hissed.

  “I can’t hold on for ever,” I told him. “The quicker you tell me—”

  “All right, all right,” he spluttered. “It was nothing, OK? I just needed someone to take the heat, take the blame for killing Jones. I set you up, OK? I admit it. Now pull me up, please …”

  “Why me?” I said. “Why choose me?”

  “No reason,” he spat. “I just heard about you, that’s all. You know — the private detective kid. You were easy to set up, that’s all it was. You were easy.”

  He looked down. His eyes rolled with fear.

  I could feel his hand slipping out of mine.

  I put my other hand into my pocket and took out Betty’s phone. I looked at the display. The line was still open.

  I put the phone to my ear. “Did you get all that?”

  “This is the emergency services,” a voice said. “Who is this, please?”

  “My name’s Johnny Delgado. I’m on the roof of the North Tower on the William B. Foster Project Development. Is this call being recorded?”

  “Please stay where you are. The police are on their way. Is anybody injured, Johnny? It sounded like—”

  I held the phone out to Kirk. “It’s been on since you got here,” I told him. “They heard everything.”

  “Please,” he begged. “Help me …”

  “One more thing,” I said.

  “No …”

  “Who killed my dad?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I was just joking about him ... the letter was a fake. I don’t know anything. Please … I don’t know …”

  “Name,” I said. “Give me a name.”

  “I can’t …”

  He was crying now. Tears streaming down his face.

  “You’re slipping, Lee,” I told him. “I can’t hold on. Last chance … give me a name.”

  He stared up at me, his eyes were bulging. His lips shut tight.

  Then finally he blurted out a name.

  Chapter 11

  Working On It

  It took a little while, and lots of explaining, but everything turned out all right in the end.