Nothing but Trouble (2 page)

‘Here it is,’ Paige said triumphantly, flourishing a hand as she stopped outside one of the houses. They all stood and stared
at it. There was nothing special about it; in fact the total opposite. The building was a wreck. Part of the guttering hung
down from the roof, mortar was crumbling from between the bricks and the blue paintwork was peeling off in strips to reveal
a lighter shade beneath. The windows, opaque with grime, didn’t need the grey net curtains to keep out prying eyes. The backyard
was flanked by two tall rickety fences and was littered with debris; an old broken bicycle, a fridge and a heap of rotting
bin bags took up most of the available space.

For a while nobody spoke.

It was Paige who eventually broke the silence. ‘Do you know who this house belongs to, Minnie?’

Minnie shook her head.

Paige grinned, clearly enjoying herself. ‘Course you don’t. You know fuck all. Well, it belongs to a queen, a very rich and
beautiful queen, and she allows anyone who can get inside to choose what they want from her collection of jewels.’

Minnie’s eyes widened again. ‘A queen?’

Becky sniggered. ‘Yeah, you could be dripping in gold, Minnie. You could have a tiara and everything. You’d look like a princess.’

‘Why don’t you try the back door, Minnie, and see if it’s open?’ Paige urged. She gave the girl a push. ‘Go on, go and see.
You might be the lucky one.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Lynda Choi said.

Paige spun around and hissed at her. ‘Who are you calling daft?’

Lynda gave her a wary look. ‘I only meant—’

Paige glared. ‘Just keep yer Chinkie gob shut, all right?’ She paused for a second, waiting to see if anyone would challenge
her over the comment – no one did – before looking smugly back at Minnie. ‘What did I tell you earlier about doing what you’re
told?’

Minnie, after a short hesitation, began to walk down the narrow backyard. Every couple of steps she glanced back at the other
girls.

‘Go on,’ Paige urged. ‘Don’t hang about. Just see if the door’s open and then come straight back here.’

Once Minnie was out of earshot, Kirsten said softly, ‘This is
his
house, ain’t it?’

Paige pulled a face. ‘What if it is? I bet he keeps all sorts in there. Probably got thousands hidden under the mattress.’

‘You reckon?’ Kirsten said.

‘Yeah, pervs like him don’t keep their dosh in a bank. They don’t do nothin’ normal. And he’s on the bus, so he’s well gone.’

Minnie reached tentatively towards the metal door handle, but withdrew her fingers again and turned, her pale eyes focusing
on Paige. Then, as if the potential wrath of the bigger girl outweighed all other considerations, she turned back, quickly
gripped the handle in her grubby hand and pressed it down. There was a distinct rattling sound, but the door didn’t open.

‘Shit,’ Paige murmured.

Minnie rushed back, her thin cotton dress flapping round her legs.

Sam Kendall heard Lynda expel an audible sigh of relief. She tried to catch her eye but her friend looked away. Sam felt guilty
about earlier, that she hadn’t defended Lynda. She knew that name-calling was bad, that it was hurtful, but her fear of Paige
was greater than her sense of right and wrong. ‘I’m starving,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and get some chips.’

But Paige had other ideas. So far as she was concerned, this wasn’t over yet. Her expression grew tight and determined. To
walk away empty-handed would be to admit defeat, to lose face in front of her troops. ‘There must be another way in.’

‘There isn’t,’ Sam insisted. ‘Come on, it doesn’t matter. Let’s go to the chippie.’

‘What about that window?’ Becky said, pointing. ‘The little one on the left. It’s not shut properly.’

Paige, with Becky and Kirsten on one side and Minnie on the other, strolled down the yard and peered up. The frosted window,
probably leading into the bathroom, had been propped open a couple of inches. It was way too small for any adult to get through,
too small even for most of the girls – but there was one person who might just manage to wriggle in.

‘You know what, Minnie, I think this could be your lucky day.’

Lynda Choi remained with Sam by the gate. She hopped from foot to foot, her anxiety growing. It was all very well nicking
a few odds and sods from the market, but breaking in to a house was something else entirely. You could end up down the cop
shop for that. She could imagine her mother’s face, her mother’s
shame,
if she did get caught. The thought was enough to propel her into action.

‘I’m gonna go,’ she whispered to Sam. ‘Are you coming?’

Sam dithered for a second, aware that they’d be punished for their desertion but as eager as Lynda to get away. She didn’t
like being near this house. Its blank grey windows gave her the creeps. And although she knew that Paige had made up the story
about the chopped-off arms and legs and tiny hands, she still had a scary mental image of them scattered around the dingy
rooms inside.

‘Yeah, okay.’

As they sped off down the alley, Paige was crouching down and Minnie was climbing clumsily on to her shoulders.

It was a few minutes before their absence was noted. By then Minnie had made two failed attempts at getting through the window.
Even with the help of Paige’s extra height, she hadn’t quite been able to reach. It was Becky who looked round and realised
the other girls were missing. She walked to the gate and peered both ways along the alley. It was empty. She hurried back
and reported the news. ‘They’ve gone.’

‘What d’ya mean?’ Paige said, her dark brows crunching together in a frown.

‘Sam and Lynda. They’ve scarpered, done a runner. What you gonna do about it?’

Paige heard the challenge in her voice – Becky always liked to stir things – and was in two minds as to whether to go after
them. She glanced rapidly from the gateway to the house and back again. They couldn’t have got far, and if she was quick she
could catch them up. Yeah, she could grab the treacherous little cows and teach them a lesson they’d never forget. But appealing
as this prospect was, it would mean abandoning the break-in. She was furious but determined not to show it. Instead she gave
a casual kind of shrug. ‘So, who cares? All the more for us when we get inside.’

Becky, hoping for a more vehement response, looked disappointed. ‘I suppose.’

‘I suppose, I suppose,’ Paige mimicked in an exaggerated high-pitched voice.

Kirsten giggled.

Becky’s lips tightened into a thin straight line. She didn’t like being on the receiving end of Paige’s mockery. ‘Maybe I’ll
piss off too,’ she said sulkily.

‘Go on then. We don’t care.’

Becky scowled but stayed where she was. It was that ‘we’ that
was troubling her. Leaving Kirsten alone with Paige – Minnie didn’t count – was too risky. By this time tomorrow the two of
them could be best mates and she’d be left out in the cold.

Paige glared for a while. When she was satisfied that Becky wasn’t going to give her any further trouble, she returned her
attention to the trickier problem of getting into the house. It was only on the third attempt that Minnie finally managed
to grab the edge of the window. Paige took hold of her ankles and pushed her further up. With an effort, Minnie got her head
through, and then her shoulders. She hung suspended for a moment, half in, half out, with her legs flailing and her grubby
knickers on display, before eventually slithering through the gap and disappearing from view.

‘Minnie?’ Paige called out softly.

There was a clattering sound from inside.

‘Minnie? You okay?’

Nothing.

‘Minnie?’

‘Yeah,’ she finally replied in her small whiny voice. ‘I banged me leg.’

‘Come on, don’t hang about. We ain’t got all bleeding day.’

Paige stood back, well pleased with herself. Now all they had to do was to wait. Minnie was under strict instructions to go
straight to the back door and open it. She’d been told three times and asked to repeat it. Even a moron like Minnie should
be able to manage that. Earlier, Paige had got down on her hands and knees and peered closely at the lock: there had been
no light coming through it, so the key must still be in there. Once they were inside, she decided, she’d make the others stay
downstairs while she went up to the bedroom. Creeps like Peck always kept their cash under the mattress. How much was there
likely to be? Hundreds, she thought, maybe even more.

The sky had grown darker, large grey clouds gathering
overhead, and now a few drops of rain began to fall. A couple more minutes passed but Minnie still didn’t appear. Paige banged
on the door with the flat of her hand. ‘Minnie? What are you doing? Stop messing about and open up.’

There was no reply.

‘Bitch,’ Paige muttered, growing increasingly impatient. ‘I bet she’s filling her pockets with all sorts.’ Dragging an old
metal bin across the yard, she clambered on top and put her face to the open window. ‘Minnie? Get yer thieving arse back here
or I’ll fuckin’ kill you.’

But still Minnie didn’t respond.

Paige had had enough. The silly cow was making her look like a fool. The rain was falling harder now, one of those freak summer
showers that could drench you in moments. Shaking the water from her ponytail, she leaned in towards the window again. ‘Minnie?
Minnie, you’ve got to get out of there now! The Beast’s coming! Quick! He’s coming to get you.’

Paige jumped off the bin and without a backward glance made for the gateway. The two other girls followed her automatically,
and the three of them ran down the alley whooping and screaming with laughter.

That was the last time any of them saw Minnie Bright. It was forty-eight hours before her crack-addicted mother reported her
missing, and a few hours more before the police entered the house and found her small twisted body hidden under a bed.

Harry Lind sat back, put his feet up on the desk and cast a critical eye over his new surroundings. The room, freshly whitewashed,
still smelled of paint despite the open windows, but he wasn’t about to complain. The office was twice the size of the last
one and half the rent. The trade-off was that they’d had to relocate the business to the East End, a move that his business
partner Mac remained distinctly dubious about. Had it been the right decision? He hoped so.

Harry slowly took in the row of filing cabinets, the wooden floor, the slatted blinds – pulled up now to let the spring air
flood in – and his old oak desk. The walls needed some pictures to soften the starkness of the white, but as yet he hadn’t
decided exactly what he wanted. He looked through the open door to the reception area beyond. A wine-coloured leather sofa,
along with a couple of matching easy chairs, had replaced the uncomfortable seating of the previous office. There was even
a new desk for their receptionist and PA, Lorna Green. Today, Friday, was her last day at the Strand. She and Mac would be
joining him on Monday morning.

Harry knew that they were taking a chance. The West End had a prestige that was missing from the mean streets of Kellston,
and although their overheads may have been reduced, that wouldn’t make a difference if they didn’t get the clients. Having
spent the last nine months twisting Mac’s arm about the move, Harry was starting to feel the pressure. What if it all went
wrong? But no sooner had the thought entered his head than he pushed it aside. Kellston was one of those up-and-coming areas,
close to the City, and the office was near the station. There was no reason why the business shouldn’t flourish.

The sound of traffic drifted up from the road. Harry’s gaze, still on the reception area, alighted on the sign on the wall:
Mackenzie, Lind,
and underneath,
Private Investigators.
His mouth slid into a smile. It still gave him a kick to see his name in print. For the first time in years he actually felt
optimistic about the future. Yes, signing the partnership deal had been the right move. After he’d been invalided out of the
police force, there had been a long period when he’d had trouble getting up in the morning, never mind looking to the future.
Now, at forty-three, he was, perhaps, finally managing that closure the shrinks were always banging on about.

Harry was still contemplating this notion when he heard the buzzer go, an indication that someone had come through the main
door downstairs. He swung his legs off the desk, stood up and put his jacket on. Strictly speaking, the office wasn’t open
for business until Monday, but he wasn’t about to turn any potential clients away.

The woman who strolled into reception was in her early thirties, wearing jeans, a white shirt and a faded denim jacket. Her
oval face, although not conventionally beautiful, was open and expressive. It was framed by a bob of shiny pale brown hair,
and from underneath her fringe a pair of grey eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘How are you doing, Harry?’

‘My God,’ he said, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head in surprise. ‘Jessica Vaughan. To what do I owe the
pleasure?’

‘Good to see you too,’ she said, smiling. ‘I was just passing by and thought I’d pop in and say hello.’

Harry stared at her for a moment. She’d lost a bit of weight but still had curves in all the right places, curves that had
drawn his attention a few years back when they’d met for the first time in the Whistle. Quickly he focused his attention back
on her face. ‘It must be … God, how long is it?’

‘A while,’ she said. ‘So do you have time for a chat, or are you too important to mix with the hoi polloi now that you’ve
gone up in the world? I noticed the sign on the door. Mackenzie, Lind, huh? So you finally took the plunge.’

‘I guess that makes me a grown-up. It had to happen one day.’

‘So now all you have to do is deal with those commitment problems of yours and you’ll be a fully rounded human being.’

Harry grinned. ‘You haven’t changed.’

‘Nor you. Well, except for the hair.’

Harry touched his head self-consciously. His father had been completely grey by the time he’d hit forty-five, and already
his own black hair was generously streaked with silver. ‘Thanks for that.’