Influence (13 page)

‘How on
earth can you read that? I sat for ages staring at that page,’ Vic shrugged as
he passed the book back to her.

‘I don’t
know Liz, don’t get me wrong it’s not as easy as reading a page that’s spaced
out properly but it’s still pretty clear.’

‘I guess
you must have some of your brother’s ability. So none of the stuff you could
read in the other books mentioned anything of interest?’

‘None of
them Liz, I’m sorry,’ he said with a shrug of his shoulders. Then Lizzie
remembered the most recent journal, the one she had hoped to find something relevant
in. She found it and flicked through, finding one of the pages which appeared
to have been written in the same format and handed it to Vic. He took it from
her, now a little bored of the game. He lay back on his pillow and quickly
scanned the page.

Lizzie
watched as Vic turned rigid and lowered the journal from his eyes, which were
now agape. His voice slow and foreboding – ‘Liz, this page starts off as
nothing but later… listen,’ he read aloud:

“
The
Council,

Dangerous,
unpredictable fools.

Scared,
scared to death. Cannot idly standby and allow them to do this.

Want
me gone?

Fine,
but not without a fight.

Must
help, they don’t know, cannot possibly know.

I will
get them out, free them, free them all.

I will
go to them
.
”

Lizzie’s
blood turned to ice in her veins, Vic’s face drained as he closed the book over
and turned to Lizzie,

‘What the
hell did he get himself involved in?’

‘Miss,
there really is no need for that kind of language. Need I remind you where you
are?’

‘Do I have
to remind you how to do your fucking job?’ Lizzie could feel that familiar fire
rising in her chest, the fire that had never done her any favours, and had
recently seen her expelled and humiliated. She would have done well to learn a
lesson from that, yet here she was, fists clenched barking unwisely at someone
who could deal a far more serious blow than Pallister.

The desk
sergeant’s eyes flicked to the far end of the reception room where a young
female officer was being bored to tears by an elderly lady, describing in
minuscule detail, her dog, which as it had become apparent, had gone missing
some time earlier that day.

‘I cannot
discuss an on-going investigation with you Miss, it’s as simple as that. I’ve
already explained that the detectives involved are following positive lines of
enquiry and I’m afraid that is the end of the conversation. You’ll just have to
accept that.’ The desk sergeant was well used to abuse being hurled in his
direction, he had after all facilitated the incarceration of thousands of
hissing and spitting arrestees through his charge bar during his career and, as
such, he had grown a thick skin and almost impenetrable public façade. Still,
this tiny Scottish upstart was pissing him off no end.

‘I’m not
looking for a conversation
Sergeant
,’ she spat back. ‘I just find it
incredible that I hand you evidence of a crime and you throw it back at me like
you’re not interested.’ Lizzie had naively thought the police would be falling
over themselves for this, this, what? Clue? Lead? New line of enquiry? She had
also be so naïve to assume that the police were all intelligent and astute
professionals; but on arrival at the station she had been met with this
spanner.

Lizzie had
not slept well, which was becoming a bad habit and was also partly to blame for
her particularly short temper this morning. She had been woken by Janice returning
from her night out and deciding to make both something to eat and a tremendous
amount of noise for four o’clock in the morning. When Lizzie had slept it had
been uneasily, plagued by short, alarming, unremembered dreams. At eight o’clock
she had given up her bed as a futile endeavour and headed for the police
station. 

‘Can I at
least talk to the detectives involved directly in the investigation?’

‘I’m sorry
there’s nobody from CID here Miss. They are very busy you must understand;
they’re out dealing with an important matter.’ Actually the desk sergeant had
no idea what they were up to, he had no love for the bad suit wearing,
swaggering detectives but the lie seemed like the fastest way to get rid of
this pest. The sergeant was once an intimidating figure, tall and broad set
with iron bar shoulders but years, and a general malaise for the job, had seen
his bulk shift south. His white uniform shirt echoed his failing enthusiasm for
the job; once crisp and proud now sad and several days worn, slightly beige and
struggling to contain its wearer’s gut. He sported a moustache that would
identify him as police even if he had been wearing jeans and a T-Shirt and his
stale coffee breath was beginning to make Lizzie gag.

‘Important
matters?’ Lizzie’s voice rose, loud enough to stop the lost dog report and
invite an audience. ‘More important than the brutal murder of a fifteen year
old boy? You mean that sort of important?’ The desk sergeant’s eyes flicked
over to the on-looking pair, embarrassment now creeping in.

‘Look if
you want I’ll give them your book and ask them to take a look at it but you’ll
get the same answer from them. It’s gibberish, and besides if it was in the
deceased’s bedroom they’ve already looked at it.’ The deceased? Who talks like
that? Lizzie thought, disgusted.

‘In that
case don’t fucking bother, if they’re as short sighted as you I might as well
burn the bloody thing.’

The sound
of the front door closing caught the ear of the desk sergeant. The old lady
either had finished giving her report or had been scared off by Lizzie’s rant
either way she was gone, as was the young officer, giving the sergeant the
freedom to be blunt with Lizzie without the corroboration to a possible
complaint.

‘Listen,
you obnoxious little shit,’ he said, his hands flat on the counter leaning over
it to look down into Lizzie’s eyes. ‘Either leave the book, or take it and piss
off, I’m sick of your foul mouthed tantrum,’ Lizzie’s rage threatened to boil
over and she was about to launch a counter attack when the desk sergeant cut
her off. ‘One more abusive word from you and I’ll have you locked up on a
public order charge, and if you think I’m joking just fucking try me.’ She
looked the jaded policeman in the eye and saw no signs of a bluff. His greying
moustache twitched with anger. For once Lizzie swallowed her ire. She swept the
journal from the counter and left, opening the front door with a boot.

The walk home
helped to burn off her red mood. She considered the situation from the other
side and she had to concede that the information she and Vic had uncovered was
tenuous at best. Still she did expect a more enthusiastic reception from the
police. She would have to consider what to do with it all, but right now she
had some last minute cramming to do. Her maths final was this afternoon and she
was well short of prepared. Lizzie stopped at the local supermarket to buy
groceries. She guessed when Janice surfaced she might appreciate a decent
breakfast, not to mention painkillers and plenty of water.

She set up
her study area at the kitchen table, which had required a great deal of
cleaning after Janice’s drunken culinary exploits, and set to work going
through past papers. She was pleasantly surprised at how much she remembered
and performed well in the tests she set herself. She worked solidly until
midday, at which point she had to accept that she had done all she could. A
rumble of movement from upstairs reminded her that she hadn’t eaten yet and she
decided it was late enough to pop her head into Janice’s room to see if she
wanted to join her for breakfast, or lunch, depending on your point of view.

Lizzie went
upstairs and opened the door to the bedroom, instantly regretting her failure
to knock first. A startled Janice pulled covers up over exposed breasts while
the other occupant of the bed darted headlong underneath in a bid to avoid
detection - all of which too late. Lizzie hesitated, temporarily stunned in the
doorway while Janice’s head, decapitated by duvet, stared red-faced at her.
‘Sorry Janice, shoulda knocked. Um, just wondered if you, wanted coffee?’ said
Lizzie as nonchalantly as she could possibly manage.

‘No thanks
hon, I’m fine,’ replied Janice aping Lizzie’s attempt at a relaxed tone. Lizzie
made to leave, but stopped in the doorway and turned.

‘How about
you Maggie?’ An arm, thumb extended, shot out from the top of the duvet.

‘Milk and
two please kiddo.’ Came the muffled reply.

Lizzie
stood, waiting in the kitchen. She held her own mug of coffee to her chest
while two others sat steaming on the small dining table in the corner. A
sheepish Janice entered after a few minutes.

‘I made you
one anyway,’ said Lizzie, slightly amused by how awkward this situation was. ‘I
figured you could use it.’

‘Look,
Lizzie,’ Janice started, but Lizzie interrupted trying to save her aunt from
any unnecessary embarrassment.

‘You guys
were in awfully late young lady,’ mocked Lizzie, ‘I hope it wasn’t a school
night?’ Janice picked up her coffee and stood beside Lizzie, both of them with
their backs leaning against the kitchen units. She blew across her cup and
sipped.

‘I’m off
today, but Mags is supposed to be in, silly mare.’ As if taking her cue Maggie
hurried into the kitchen.

‘So fucking
late. Oh thanks kiddo,’ Maggie lifted her coffee, her clothes not quite sitting
right having been thrown on. She held her jacket over one arm. ‘Oh, good luck
today,’ she said to Lizzie placing her mug back on the table three quarters
full.

‘Thanks,
I’ll need it.’

‘Will you
fuck. Right, see you guys later,’ Maggie kissed Janice and Lizzie on their
foreheads and hurried from the kitchen. A brief silence rested over the room
after the sound of the front door closing was heard. Lizzie was the one to
break it.

‘I absolutely adore
her,’ she said, making clear her approval. Janice cleared her throat and turned
to face Lizzie.

‘Me too. So you’re…’

‘Ok with this?’ said
Lizzie finishing her sentence and chuckling. ‘Yes. So how long… have you guys… you
know.’

‘Few months now. Came
as a bit of a surprise to me too.’

‘And you’re happy,’
said Lizzie, stating it rather than asking it.

‘And I’m happy,’
confirmed Janice. ‘What time’s your exam?’ Both of them turned their heads to
the clock on the wall, accepting the change of subject.

‘Little over an
hour.’

‘You’re ready?’
Lizzie shrugged.

‘I guess. It’s maths,
it’s always going to be a lottery.’

‘Do you need a lift?’

‘No, I’m fine.
Besides by the look of you you’re probably still twice over the limit.’

Lizzie still felt
like she was trespassing as she pulled open the front doors of Queen’s. Even
though, by the rules Pallister himself set out, she was permitted to be there.
The school halls buzzed with the usual chatter and nobody seemed to bat an
eyelid at Lizzie’s presence, much like when she had visited Vic in his dorm.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected, returning to the scene of the crime, but
she was glad of the non event she had found. She made her way unmolested to the
exam hall and found her place.

The exam finished
just as scheduled classes were breaking. Student lockers were lined along both
sides of the wide main corridor of the school. Lizzie found hers and unlocked
it, she hadn’t yet emptied it, she had refused to out of principle, but there
was no reason not to now. This, after all, would probably be the last time she
would set foot in the school. Her last exam was over and she was surprised, no
stunned, that she felt subdued at the thought of walking out of there for the
last time. It was natural to feel nostalgic in such circumstances wasn’t it?
But after all that had happened this year she had imagined she’d be running for
the exit, middle finger extended over her shoulder in farewell. Instead she
found herself taking every inch of the building in, it really was a magnificent
old house irrespective of its occupants.

‘Looking for
something?’ Lizzie’s daydream had masked Vic’s approach and he had caught her
scanning around in reverential wonder. Lizzie swung her locker door open.

‘Hey Vic, sorry I
didn’t see you there. Didn’t realise you were in today.’

‘I was sat a few
desks behind you in the exam Liz.’

‘Really? Sorry a lot
on my mind.’ Lizzie instantly regretted her words, her troubles paltry compared
to his. ‘But shit, look who I’m talking to, sorry Vic.’

‘It’s fine. About
that though, what did the police say?’ said Vic lowering his voice and peering
up to ensure they could talk privately.

‘They weren’t
interested. Not even a little.’

‘To be honest Liz,
I’m not that surprised. I think we’re overreaching with this. The last cop I
spoke to said they thought it was a random act, or a robbery gone wrong or
something.’

‘I’m sorry for
digging around all this Vic, and you might well be right but it just doesn’t
sit well with me.’ Lizzie did regret that her curiosity must be making it
extremely difficult for Vic to put things behind him.

‘Stop apologising, It’s
fine, do what you need to do Liz, I’ll help if I can.’

‘Thanks, but I’m not
really sure there is anything else to do. I had thought about getting someone
to try and translate all the stuff in his room, but as you’ve already said it’s
almost entirely irrelevant and we could be at it for years to make a dent in it
all. So,’ breathed Lizzie changing the subject, ‘I guess this is kind of
it
for me here Vic, how on earth are you ever going to cope without me?’ Lizzie
smiled at him and he beamed back.

‘Do you think you’ve
done well enough for Oxford? How did it go today?

‘As well as could be
expected,’ she answered shrugging. ‘I was actually fairly pleased if I’m being
honest. How about you? You knock it out the park? There was a slight pause
before Vic replied, his attention drawn elsewhere.

‘Um, yeah, it was ok
I suppose,’ Lizzie followed Vic’s gaze to a small gathering further down the
hall on the opposite side where more lockers were housed. Bitch Tits and his entourage
appeared to have cornered prey. A large girl Lizzie had never seen before was
busy trying to ignore the small collective while they no doubt berated her.

‘Who’s this?’ Lizzie
enquired standing on toes to get a better look.

‘Hilary Dunphy.’

‘Who?’

‘She’s new, been here
a week or so.’

‘This close to the
end of the year?’ Vic had only heard about Hilary’s recent arrival himself a
few days ago.