Crowns and Codebreakers (11 page)

‘This is my whole operation,’ Marcus said, spreading his hands to include the sink. ‘Everything I have to sell is on display. Why would it not be? I need to sell it to make money.’

Jimmy smiled warmly. ‘Of course. I was just hoping we might get a sneak preview of your newest art.’

‘You can. In the gallery.’

‘Well, we’d best be off,’ Jimmy said. ‘But you can be sure I’ll be back.’

‘I look forward to it,’ Marcus replied.

Out on the street, Piotr shook his head. ‘Minnie isn’t going to like this. You didn’t ask him about the railway station. Or the head. Or the break-in.’

‘Hush, not outside the shop.’ Jimmy walked purposefully away from the entrance.

Piotr followed. ‘Jimmy!’

‘I’m thinking,’ Jimmy said.

Piotr waited five seconds. ‘Well?’

‘Still thinking.’

They were at the market before Jimmy spoke again. ‘I got a weird feeling from him. Not a pleasant one. And there was a letter with a Nigerian stamp in his tray, just like Flora said. But I can’t get at it without a warrant. I think I need to take this case right back to the beginning, dig out the file on my desk and start treating this as a full enquiry. I’ll start by getting the scene of crime officers around to Minnie’s flat.’

‘They won’t find anything. It was days ago now.’ Piotr was beginning to feel frustrated. No wonder Minnie had been cross.

‘Maybe, but this needs to be done by the book. If you’re right, then I’ll come to the same conclusions, but this time with hard evidence.’

‘You mean you’ll get to where we are now, but in a week’s time when it’s too late?’

‘I’ll make sure it’s done quickly. I’ll find a reason to get that warrant, especially when my superiors learn that
there is a young boy whose whereabouts are unknown. The crime scene team will be there before you know it. Don’t worry, Piotr, I’ve got this. Tell Minnie I’ll be in touch soon.’

Piotr shook his head. ‘I think she’s heard that before.’

‘I mean it this time,’ Jimmy promised.

Piotr trudged back to the cafe, where the others were waiting for him. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets, his shoulders scrunched towards his ears. Jimmy had been horribly polite to Marcus. The crime scene team, who should have been sent on Sunday, were only now being dispatched. His news was going to go down like an elephant in a lift shaft. He pushed the door open with his elbow.

‘Piotr!’ Andrew said, shuffling up on his bench. ‘How did it go? Did you find the bronze? Or the boy? Will we get a share in the million pounds?’

‘No, no, and why on earth would we?’ Piotr said. He sank down heavily.

Minnie was watching him. Her face was pinched, wary. He wasn’t going to enjoy telling her any of this.

‘Well?’ Minnie said.

Piotr sighed. ‘Jimmy didn’t know about the break-in. He says he’s got a huge pile of work on his desk and he hasn’t got around to it yet.’

Minnie clicked her tongue against her teeth. ‘Seems to me that Gran’s right. She thinks it’s worse than Lagos. People with money get results, people without it don’t.’ Her eyes flashed towards Flora as she spoke.

‘That’s not true,’ Piotr said. ‘Jimmy says he’s sending the fingerprint people to your flat now.’

‘And what good will that do? Dad changed the locks and Gran’s been cleaning. They won’t find a thing. And Lowdog definitely won’t tell the police who he saw in the alleyway that day.’

‘He wants to investigate properly,’ Piotr tried again.

‘He’s had his chance,’ Minnie said. ‘This is down to us. It’s always been down to us.’

Andrew looked sheepish. ‘It’s getting a bit late, Minnie. Mum needs me to get dinner. Cheese and tomato sandwiches. I hate tomato, but Mum says I need to be braver about pips, so I agreed to try.’

Minnie managed a weak smile.

Flora stood up. ‘I’d better get back too. What should I say to Sylvie?’

Minnie slumped lower in her seat. It was fine for Flora
and Sylvie. They got whatever they wanted at the drop of a hat – Jimmy had come running when Flora called him.

The twins had everything. Except … Minnie looked at Andrew who was trying to cheer her up. And Piotr, solid and patient by her side. Sylvie didn’t have them. Didn’t have friends like them. The whole reason the row with Sylvie had happened was because Sylvie had wanted to feel a part of the gang.

Minnie bit her lip.

Andrew and Flora headed out of the door with a wave goodbye.

It was just Minnie and Piotr left. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘I don’t want to give up,’ she replied quietly, ‘but I don’t know what to do.’

‘Yes. I thought Jimmy would come and find the boy and the thieves and fix it all for us.’

‘Me too.’

‘I guess grown-ups don’t always come to the rescue,’ Piotr said sadly.

‘That poor boy,’ Minnie said. ‘His fingers and toes might be safe, but the gang put him on the flight all by himself. Gran said he was little, much younger than we are. Can you imagine being at an airport all alone? The
plane taking off? The gates and carousels and all the crowds and people at the other end? Where is he? Where are his family? How has he ended up with thieves and grave robbers?’

‘Like Oliver Twist,’ Piotr said. ‘I saw the film once. With the singing. Oliver ends up with a gang of pick-pockets and he doesn’t know how to get out.’

‘We need to find him, Piotr.’

‘How do we do that?’

‘That’s just it. I have no idea.’

‘Marcus or Omar know where he is,’ Minnie said. ‘They used the cipher, they took his T-shirt to be cleaned. One of them did, anyway. They could tell us.’

‘You can’t confront them,’ Piotr said. ‘It would be too dangerous. And you’ve got no proof. Remember what Jimmy said about needing evidence?’

Minnie waved the objection away. Jimmy had been talking about evidence in court, not evidence to help find a missing boy.

Though Piotr was right, the two men probably were dangerous. If she went alone.

‘You’ll come with me, won’t you?’ Minnie asked. ‘They’ll be closing their shops soon, going home. We could follow them, find out where they live. Peanut boy might be there.’ Outside, the market was winding down for the day, stalls packed into cardboard boxes and car boots.

‘How can we follow two people and stay together?’ Piotr pointed out.

‘We can’t do nothing!’ Minnie insisted. The few customers still in the cafe before closing turned to look at her. She hadn’t meant to shout. She pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘I’m sorry, I just want to do something.’

‘We will.’ Piotr ducked his head so that he was looking her right in the eye. ‘But not on our own. We need to wait for the others too.’

‘We could follow one of them then. Tonight, just the two of us?’

Piotr sighed. ‘Fine. Fine. I know when I’m beaten.’

‘Thank you!’ Minnie hated feeling helpless. It was the worst thing ever. With something to do, the world already seemed better. She stood up and pulled on her jacket.

‘Right now?’ Piotr asked.

‘Right now,’ Minnie said.

She led the way down Marsh Road towards the theatre. She crossed the street and ducked behind a plane tree. From there, they could see the row of single-storey shops – Ikonik and Ahmed’s Cleaning Experts included.

The gallery was already closed. Heavy steel bars had come down over the glass; the front door was shuttered too. They had missed Marcus.

But the ‘OPEN’ sign still hung in the door of the dry cleaner’s. They could follow Omar.

They waited.

‘What time does the shop close?’ Piotr whispered.

‘Hush,’ Minnie replied. She had no idea. She hoped it wasn’t too late; she was getting pins and needles in her foot from crouch­ing behind the tree.

It wasn’t too long.

After about fifteen minutes of waiting, Omar came out of the shop. He whistled to himself as he locked the front door and pocketed the keys.

‘Watch him!’ Minnie said. She was getting ready to dash from their tree to the next one, to follow him all the way home, when –

Omar pulled a different set of keys out of his pocket and waved them towards a white van parked near the curb. The van beeped twice and its orange hazard lights blinked on and off.

Omar was driving home.

‘He’ll get away!’ Minnie said.

Omar pulled open the door and disappeared from view inside. The engine started and he pulled out into the busy evening traffic.

Minnie stepped out from behind the tree. She dodged
the line of cars and ran to the other side of the street. She ran for a while: the van was still in view, caught at a set of lights. Her arms pumped at her sides; she willed her legs to move even faster.

She might catch up.

She might.

The lights changed and the van pulled away. Omar turned a corner and, by the time Minnie reached it, he was gone.

Minnie slowed down. She stopped running. She stood with her hands on her knees, her head down, trying to catch her breath. She’d lost him.

She stood slowly and walked back towards Piotr. He hadn’t even run. He’d stayed outside the dry cleaner’s. She felt a hot wave of anger and her eyes stung – sweat or tears? She wiped them crossly with the back of her sleeve. In front of the shop now, she scowled at Piotr.

‘You didn’t even chase him!’

‘Minnie,’ he said, ‘there was no way we could keep up with a van.’

‘We might have!’

‘Stop shout­ing.’

‘You stop shouting!’

Piotr frowned at her. ‘You’re being stupid.’

What? What was he talking about? ‘No, I’m not.’

‘Yes. You are. You’ve been so angry and cross with everybody that you won’t even listen. You’ve been mean to Flora, and Jimmy. And now me. And Sylvie has been avoiding us because you set her up.’

‘I didn’t!’

‘Yes, you did. You know Derek. He was bound to be horrible to her. And you made her go by herself anyway.’

Minnie could have screamed and stamped her feet and yelled at the darkening sky.

Because she knew Piotr was right.

‘I don’t have to listen to you!’ she shouted as loud as she could. Then she ran.

She ran away from him and didn’t once look back.

When Minnie arrived at the salon, she had a stitch in her side and her eyes were brimming with hot, angry tears. She let herself in and was surprised to hear shuffling and muttering coming from the back hallway. A second break-in?

She crept slowly through the dark salon; the black chairs were lumpy crouching shapes in the gloom. There was a light on near the back door.

A police officer. And Mum. They stood together looking at the lock Dad had replaced. The police officer was a blonde woman with a black briefcase. She had a uniform, but it was less bulky than Jimmy’s. Minnie realised the woman was wearing an Aertex shirt, rather than the protective vest that Jimmy wore. The shirt had ‘SOCO’ printed on the back in yellow.

Scene of crime officer.

Finally.

Though, by the look on the woman’s face, she was too late anyway. ‘I haven’t been able to lift any usable prints,’ she was saying to Mum. ‘I’m sorry. The back door is clean and the bedroom is too.’

‘Of course it’s clean,’ Minnie muttered. ‘You’re days too late.’

‘Please ignore my daughter,’ Mum said firmly. ‘People who are frightened can often seem rude. But then people who are rude seem rude as well. It can be hard to tell the difference.’

Why was everyone out to get her? Minnie stomped away from the two of them. She’d had enough of everyone today.

But even her bedroom wasn’t safe. Gran was sitting on her bed, reading.

Grr.

Minnie kicked off her trainers and threw herself on to her bed. She twisted the duvet until it was completely covering her. All she could see was the narrow canyon of world between the dark mattress and the shadowy duvet sky.

‘Bad day?’ Gran asked mildly.

Minnie made a noise that said, ‘Leave me alone!’

‘Friends or family?’

Gran wasn’t leaving her alone. Minnie tugged down the duvet a tiny, tiny bit until she could peep out and see Gran. She hadn’t moved, but her book had dropped into her lap and she was smiling at Minnie as though she could fix whatever it was that was wrong.

‘What?’ Minnie snapped.

‘Friends or family? It’s only people we really care about who can upset us like this. Stones thrown by strangers have no effect, but stones thrown by friends sting. Don’t you think?’

‘Is that from your book?’ Minnie asked crossly.

Gran laughed. ‘No. I made it up myself. I am hoping to see it printed on a tea towel and sell millions of copies so that we will be rich.’

Minnie pulled the cover down a little further. Now her whole head was sticking out. The rest of her body felt hot and weighed down. She kicked to get some air in.

‘Why don’t you tell me what went wrong, eh?’

Minnie sighed. ‘I had a row with Piotr. Because I had a row with Sylvie.’

Gran said nothing. She waited.

‘I was a tiny bit mean, I suppose,’ Minnie said. ‘But she deserved it. And Piotr shouldn’t take her side.’

Gran still said nothing.

‘And if she were nicer, then Derek might have been nicer. So it’s her fault really.’

Gran closed her book and set it on the window sill. ‘What will you do now that you are right but on your own?’

Was she right though? Somehow, Minnie knew that she wasn’t entirely one-hundred-per-cent right. She didn’t reply.

‘Sorry goes a long way, you know,’ Gran said. ‘Even the great tricksters in stories know that. We need our friends more than we need our pride.’

Gran stood up then with a puffing heave. She walked to the door. ‘You sleep on it,’ she said. ‘I’m going to speak with your mother. We never did sort out the egg busi­ness.’

The following morning, Minnie went into the bathroom to get some privacy before taking out her phone.

She dialled Sylvie’s number.

It rang.

Her thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button. But she forced herself to let it ring.

A sleepy voice answered. ‘Hello?’

‘Sylvie? It’s Minnie. I’m calling to say sorry. That you had to investigate on your own. That Derek was rude to you. There. I’ve said it. That’s all.’