Beware This Boy (22 page)

Abbott tightened his lips. “To tell you the truth, I hadn’t even started. Management feels there’s no point in us dillie men being here before quarter to three. First shift leaves at two thirty, but we have the fifteen-minute changeover break and there isn’t any work for me to pick up right away. I was just coming up the road when I heard the explosion.”

“Mr. Abbott, I tell you frankly I am treating this incident as a tragic accident, but in the unlikely event that it was not … that is, if some kind of sabotage was involved, do you have any idea how that could have occurred?”

“No, I do not.”

“I asked Mr. Smith this question, Mr. Abbott – were the fuses always within your sight? Nobody could have tampered with them, for instance?”

Abbott stiffened. “No, Inspector.”

Tyler tapped ash off his cigarette. “I understand there are
two places on your route where you are essentially on your own and out of sight of any other worker.”

Abbott frowned. “Not sure what – oh, the corridors between the magazine shed and the doors to the two sections. Is that where you mean?”

“That’s what Mr. Smith said.”

“Technically he’s right, but they’re only a few feet long and the operatives do come back and forth sometimes. If they have to go to the toilets, for instance. We can’t be assured of privacy, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Right. I have one last question. Is there anybody in the factory that might be capable of an act of sabotage? Anybody at all? Take your time to answer.”

Abbott hadn’t been in the canteen when suspicion was directed at Mary Ringwald-Brown. Tyler was curious as to what he would say.

In fact, Abbott looked angry. “I don’t need to take my time, begging your pardon, Inspector. I don’t know anybody who would intentionally cause the death of four blameless young women. Nobody.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Abbott.”

Tyler shook hands and Abbott left.

While Cudmore went to fetch his next interviewee, Tyler made a list in his own notebook:

Sorry, Les
, thought Tyler.
Nothing personal. Just the habits of a copper who’s found it pays to trust almost nobody
.

Beatrice had gone off to the shops. She and Phyllis had worked out that if they both bought more of food items that were not rationed, such as cabbage and potatoes, they could fill out the meals. But that meant Beattie had to go farther afield, where she wasn’t known. Brian knew she’d be gone for a while.

He couldn’t sit still. He went to the window and risked a peek through the curtain. His gran was right. It was dismal outside. Somebody was coming down the road and he dropped the curtain quickly. He couldn’t bear to go back to the upstairs room. His thoughts shifted and roiled in his head. Donny Jarvis, Vanessa, the army mates he’d left.

The clock on the mantel chimed the quarter-hour. The morning seemed interminable. Brian felt a curious mixture of exhausted and wide awake. He wondered if his aunt had some sleeping pills, something to calm him down. Probably. He got up and went to Eileen’s room. The door was locked. Shite. It hadn’t been locked yesterday. Had she realized he’d been having a look around? What was she trying to keep away from him? The pills in her drawer probably. He gave the door a kick.

He prowled into the living room again. Granddad had said not to turn on the wireless, but if he kept it really quiet it might be all right. He snapped it on, keeping the volume low. Same insipid organ music. He turned it off. Damn. His hand was shaking like an old man’s. He tried to hold it steady, but that didn’t help either.

What are the other lads up to?
he wondered. They’d know by now he’d done a bunk. Would they be talking about him? Ridiculing him? Nobby Clark would. He’d made it clear he despised Brian, but a couple of the others – Shorty Green and Podge – would understand. Maybe they were all on board ship by now, heading for Africa.

He put his head on the table. Oh God. What had he done?

He must have actually fallen into a short sleep, because he was jerked awake by knocking at the front door.
One, two, three
. Repeated.
One, two, three
. He waited, holding his breath, until the mail slot opened and a voice whispered, “
It’s me – Jackie
.”

Quickly Brian went to the door and let him in, making sure he stayed hidden. The day was overcast and gloomy but the safety of the fog had gone.

Jack held out a net shopping bag. “This is for you. From Donny.”

Brian grabbed it and looked inside. There was a box wrapped in newspaper.

“Stay here.” He ran up to his room and thrust the bag underneath the bed. He didn’t know if it would be ultimately safe from his gran’s housekeeping, but it would have to do for now. When he returned to the living room, Jack was sitting at the table, not moving, just waiting.

“Gran should be back soon,” said Brian. “Do you want a cuppa?”

“No, thanks. I’m supposed to be at school. I’m going to get another late detention.”

“Hold on a bit. I wanted to have a chinwag while we could.”

“I’d better not stay too long, Bri.”

Brian shook out a cigarette from his package and offered it to Jack. “You smoking yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Smart lad.” Shakily Brian lit a cigarette and drew in a lungful of smoke. “I was curious as to how you got into the clutches of that rotten sod Donny Jarvis.”

Jack shrugged, not looking at him. “He saw me coming out of one of the bombed-out houses.”

“God, Jackie, don’t tell me you were looting.”

Another shrug. “I suppose so.”

Brian caught his arm. “No, Jackie. Not suppose. Either you were or you weren’t.”

The boy tugged himself free, shrinking away from him. “The people were dead so they didn’t need it anymore, did they.”

“What’d you steal? I’m curious.”

“Some money. They’d left it in a jam jar. It wasn’t much.”

“How much?”

“ ’Bout ten bob.”

“And for ten shillings you sold your soul to Donny Jarvis?”

Jack was on the verge of tears. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Why didn’t you go to Dad? Or better yet, why didn’t you talk to Granddad? He knows how to deal with rubbish like Donny.”

“I can’t. Donny’ll hurt me bad if I tell anybody and if I don’t do what he says.”

“That where you got your bruise?”

Jack nodded, his face abject. “I didn’t want to say anything about you, Bri, but it sort of all came out. Donny’s like that. Nobody stands up to him. He broke his last girlfriend’s nose because she cheeked him. He doesn’t just threaten – he does.”

Brian chucked the boy under the chin. “No good crying over spilt milk. I’m going to take care of Mr. Jarvis before I go.”

Jackie looked at him, round-eyed. “What’ll you do?”

“Never mind about that.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “Do you know what’s in the bag he gave you?”

“No.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” He grinned. “If you think Donny Jarvis can hurt people, he’s got nothing on me when I get riled up.” He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Don’t know about you, but I need that cuppa.”

Jackie glanced over at the clock on the mantelpiece. “No, I’ve really got to go, Bri.”

“Not yet. There’s something else I want to talk to you about.”

Brian went into the kitchen, leaving the door open. “How’re you doing at school?” he called over his shoulder.

“All right.”

“Did you get Mr. Lishman this year?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a bit of an arsehole but he makes you learn.”

“Yeah.”

Brian stood in the doorway. He said, ever so casually, “I saw Nessa last night. She made it in spite of the fog.”

“Good. That must have been nice for you.” Jack’s eyes were lowered.

Brian stepped closer. “What did you tell her exactly when you gave her the message?”

“That you were here and would meet her at midnight in the shelter. Just like you told me. Why? Did she get the time wrong?”

“No, no, she was right on time. Funny thing, though, she seemed surprised to see me. I mean to see
me
. Almost as if she was expecting somebody else.”

Jack didn’t look at him. “Don’t be daft, Brian. How could she be?”

“That’s what I wondered. So I thought I’d better ask what you said exactly.” His lips twisted into his ferocious grin. “Maybe you said some film star was waiting in the shelter.”

“Course I didn’t.”

“Michael Wilding, for instance. Or Leslie Howard.”

“Not likely.”

“When you said it was me wanted to see her, and that I wasn’t in the army anymore, she must have been quite taken aback.”

“Course she was.”

A piece of coal fell in the fireplace and Jack jumped. Brian didn’t take his eyes off his brother’s face.

“Was she glad? When you said I was home and waiting for her, was she glad?”

“Course she was, Bri.”

Brian came to the table where Jack was sitting. “It’s a relief to know what you just said, Jackie.”

“Sure, Bri. Anytime.”

Brian turned his brother’s head towards him. “Because I don’t like fibbers, Jack. In fact, I hate them.”

After Jack had left, Brian felt even more restless. His granddad had said they should keep the curtains closed at all times. A lot of people did these days, so it wouldn’t seem so strange. They were heavy blackout curtains; he had to turn the light on when he was in the room. He would love to go out and get some fresh air but he knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to be outside in daylight for a long time. What if Donny let him down and didn’t bring him the passport and identity card? Well, he wasn’t going to stay here. He’d go stark, raving mad. He’d find a way to get to Ireland himself. Even if the absolute worst happened and Vanessa couldn’t come with him right away, he’d go regardless. The war couldn’t last forever. He’d have to wait it out.

He went back upstairs and pulled out the bag from underneath the bed. He decided to take a chance on his gran’s being out for a couple of hours and decided to use the living room.

He emptied the contents of the shopping bag onto the table. There were two alarm clocks without the outer casings, a couple of batteries, two tiny light bulbs from a torch, and some wires. That was it. He hadn’t made a timer before but it was a simple matter really. Connect the wires from the battery to the clock, then to the light bulb. Set the alarm for a certain time. When it switched on, it would connect with the light bulb, which would start to heat up. So much for Donny’s protestations about no bombs. This type of timer was intended to connect with some kind of explosive substance that would react to heat. It was small but it didn’t have to be big. Everything would fit in a shoebox.

“No casualties,” Donny had said, but who was kidding whom? Well, he couldn’t think about that. This was survival of the fittest. Let those who can survive. He couldn’t take care of everybody else.

Suddenly the front door opened and in walked Mrs. Swann, the next-door neighbour. “Beattie, I’m off to the shops. Do you—”

Seeing him, she stopped in her tracks. “Brian, what are you doing here? I thought you were off in the army.”

His mind froze. He could easily have told her he was on leave, but he could see she was peering curiously over his shoulder.

“Is Beattie in?”

“No, she’s gone shopping.”

Something must have showed on his face, some expression that alarmed her. She began to turn towards the door.

“I’ll just drop off this pamphlet, then.”

He was on her in a flash, grabbing her thin arm. “Mrs. Swann, stay here.”

“Brian, what’s wrong with you?”

She tried to push him away and get out the door but he jerked her hard and she fell to the ground. Her head connected with the bottom step in a sickening bounce. The breath had been knocked out of her body and she lay gasping on the floor, one leg splayed out at a grotesque angle. Brian was paralyzed. She was going into seizures and it was obvious from the sudden stench that she had involuntarily voided her bowels. She moaned and her eyelids fluttered.

It was the moan that broke Brian’s immobility. Terror swept through him. Without a thought, wanting only to stop the sound, he seized one of his granddad’s brass-topped walking sticks from the stand.

She was a fragile old thing and it didn’t take much to silence her, only two savage blows.

Brian started to talk out loud. “Got to get her out of the hall – quick.”