Blood Tracks (15 page)

The warehouse was a buzz of activity. A ship from West Africa had docked that morning, bringing with it six-metre-long containers full of cocoa beans for Tom’s clients. Declan and his workmates hadn’t stopped all day; supervising the discharge from the quayside and then stacking the sacks onto the warehouse shelves. Here the sacks would remain until lorries arrived to take the beans on the last leg of their mammoth journey: to the chocolate makers around the UK.

Declan had been enjoying the job so much that sometimes he forgot that the only reason he was there was to keep an eye on Tom Cotter and his activities. In fact, Declan couldn’t believe how great his life was at the moment – if it wasn’t for the inconvenient fact that it was based on lies.

He wanted the reality to be that he’d just been incredibly lucky – getting a job he enjoyed and meeting a girl he loved being with and, despite his best efforts, couldn’t stop thinking about. Sometimes he thought he saw signs that Gina felt the same way and it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back. He vowed never to go to the cinema with Gina again. It had been torturous sitting next to her in the dark, having to force himself to keep his mind and hands off her.

Guilt gnawed away at him every time Gina thanked him for being such a good friend, every time her mum invited him to stay for tea with a look of gratitude on her face. Declan knew he was a liar, so he was determined to do the only decent thing he could in the circumstances; he was determined not to show Gina how he really felt about her.

It had been three weeks since “the date” and Declan was still no wiser about the numbers on that piece of paper. In fact, since the meeting he’d witnessed between the three men, nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened at the warehouse.

Declan had just stopped for a well-earned tea break when he heard Tom’s voice call down from the heavens.

“Declan, come over here, will you? Bring a pen and paper.”

He looked along the aisle and then craned his neck to see Tom, high up on the rolling ladder that could be swished along the full length of the shelves to reach any point. Declan watched as Tom dragged out one of the sacks from a shelf and slit across it with a gleaming knife. A sweet aroma sailed out of the sack. Tom pulled a shiny silver scoop out of his pocket and sank it deep into the mass of brown beans. He lifted out the scoop and started to inspect the contents, turning the beans with his fingers, before rolling them between the palms of his hands and bringing them up to his nose to inhale their scent.

Tom nodded to himself, satisfied.

He called down, “Write this down, will you, Declan, and ask Kylie to log it on the computer.”

Declan had his pen and paper poised. “Go on!”

“874351/12/102/23/10/13 – condition good,” Tom shouted.

Declan froze, the pen still floating above the paper, his mouth slightly agape. “What did you say?” he asked in astonishment.

“Pay attention, will you? I said, ‘874351/12/102/23/10/13 – condition good’. Have you got that?”

“That’s what I thought you said,” Declan replied, eyes wide. “Sorry, could you just repeat it one more time?”

Tom rolled his eyes and repeated the numbers. Declan copied them down, nodding vigorously, and started to sprint towards the office.

Tom shook his head in frustration. “I’m sure that lad’s not all there,” he muttered to himself.

Declan burst in on Kylie.

“Oh, hello, gorgeous,” Kylie said, startled. “You seem keen to see me.”

“Tom wants some info putting on the system.”

“Is it quality control?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me just get the right spreadsheet up.” Her long fingernails tapped on the keyboard. “Fire away.”

Declan moved behind her and bent over her shoulder so he could see the screen.

Kylie swivelled in her chair; their faces were almost touching. “Are you trying to look down my top, you naughty boy?” she grinned.

“I’m interested in how the system works.” Declan’s olive skin blushed.

She let out a laugh that sounded like a horse neighing. “Oh, Declan, you are funny.” She fluttered her eyes slowly, so that her fake lashes brushed his cheek. “I’m only teasing you. Now, have you asked Gina out yet?”

Declan coughed nervously. “No, I think it’s best if we just stay mates.”

She cupped his face between her hands, pouting. “Is it still ‘complicated’?”

Declan nodded.

“Well you know what they say, don’t you? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’.” Kylie laughed at herself. “Get me…quoting poetry. But what I’m saying is, Declan, you should just go for it.”

Declan swallowed hard as she released his face.

“Now what was the data you had for me?” she asked breezily.

He repeated the numbers Tom had given him and watched as they appeared on the spreadsheet under the different column headings:

His heart started to beat faster.

“Kylie, can you just run through what all the numbers stand for?”

“Are you after my job?”

“No, I just want to know how all the different bits work together. I find it fascinating,” he said.

“Really? Well, Tom devised the system, it’s quite straightforward, look.” Kylie pointed to the screen. “It’s always the serial number of the ship, the lot number, the sack number, the date the cargo left the port in the Ivory Coast, then we record what date the shipment docked here, and finally what condition the cocoa beans arrived in.”

“Of course, all the sacks have numbers on,” Declan said excitedly.

“Yeah, they each have a lot number and an individual number. Every sack has to be accounted for. This is big business, Declan. If a sack goes astray or gets nicked, we need to know about it.”

“And who decides which sacks to check?” Declan asked, trying to stay calm.

Kylie shrugged. “As far as I know it’s just random. Tom chooses sacks from different lots, just to get a sample.”

“And is it only Tom who checks them?”

“Well it is now. But Martin used to do it before…before…”

“Before he died.” Declan finished her sentence.

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly choked up. “Martin was the only one Tom trusted to do it properly. You have to know what you’re doing. They spend a long time in those containers on the ships. Things can happen: temperature changes, condensation. The beans can start going mouldy. Tom can tell if they’re okay by the feel, smell and colour. He has to separate out any bad beans. Our clients don’t want damaged goods.” Kylie was getting into her stride now. “It really is lovely to see you taking an interest, Declan. I’m sure the rest of the lads think all I do is sit here and text my mates all day. I play a vital role in this business, you know. Without me and my spreadsheets this place would be in chaos.”

“I know, Kylie. You’re wonderful.” He beamed.

“Do you want to see my spreadsheets for when the stock leaves the warehouse? They really are impressive: lists of buyers, dates, quantities, how they were transported.” She smiled proudly.

“Maybe some other time. I’d better get back to work before Tom accuses me of skiving.”

“Don’t you worry about Tom. I’ll tell him what an interest you’re taking in the business. He’ll be impressed.”

“No,” Declan said hurriedly. “Don’t do that. I don’t want him to think I’m a creep.”

Kylie looked at her watch. “Hey! Don’t bother getting back to work. It’s clocking-off time already. Come on!” She turned off the computer and ushered him out of the office, locking the door behind her.

“Right…okay, well I’d better get home quick then. Mrs. Mac is cooking one of her special stews,” he announced, heading towards the entrance.

Minutes later the warehouse staff were gathered at the small doorway cut into the closed sliding doors.

“Good work today, guys,” Tom said to them. “Are you off for a well-earned pint?”

“We sure are,” they chorused.

“Are you coming?” Kylie asked.

“No, I’m going to Clare’s for my tea.”

The men exchanged knowing looks.

“You spend more time at Clare’s house than your own,” Kylie said.

“I like being with her and the family. Anyway, she’s a wonderful woman,” Tom replied enthusiastically.

“Mmm, wonderful,” Kylie repeated, knowingly.

Tom rolled his eyes and changed the subject. “Where’s Declan?”

“He got off sharpish. His landlady is making him stew.”

Tom pulled a face. “Do you think the boy might be a bit slow?”

“No!” Kylie protested. “I think he’s sweet and he’s keen to learn the business. Really keen, Tom.”

“If you say so, Kylie,” Tom said, turning the main lights off and switching on the alarm. “Everyone out!”

There came the sound of keys turning in the outside locks and footsteps walking away.

Only then did Declan come out of his hiding place. He was convinced now that he knew what the numbers on the paper meant. He looked around the vast, silent warehouse and steeled himself. He had a lot of searching to do.

Declan tried Stevie but the voicemail kicked in yet again.

“Why haven’t you got your phone on?” Declan said in frustration. “I need you, now! This is urgent. I think I’ve sussed out the code on that paper. I think it’s one of the sacks of cocoa beans that came in on today’s shipment. I’m in the warehouse right now, looking for it.”

Declan knew that they’d stored all of today’s shipment on Aisle One, so at least that narrowed down his search, but his heart sank as he looked at the thousands of sacks piled on the mile-long shelving. He couldn’t chance using the forklift truck to move any sacks, in case the noise aroused suspicion from outside. He tried to be methodical. First he had to locate lot number fifty-four and then check every sack in that section. He started on the first bottom shelf and checked the numbers on the mounds of sacks. He struggled to read the red print on the sacking in the glow of the warehouse nightlights. The shelves were so deep that he had to crawl to the back of them to reach all the stock. Despite the air conditioning, as he pulled and pushed sack after sack, beads of sweat started to run down his face.

This could take all night
, he thought, as he climbed up the rolling ladder and began searching the next shelf.

Outside, the port that never slept was still working at full throttle and every creak, shout and clatter was making Declan so twitchy that when his phone vibrated in his pocket, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Oh, Mrs. Mac, it’s you.”

“Yes, Declan, it’s me,” she said sternly. “But where are you? Your dinner’s on the table. You’re not in the pub, are you? You may work with men but you’re only a boy, just you remember that. You’d have been far better off with Mr. O’Rourke at the funeral parlour. He’s teetotal.”

“No, don’t worry. I was just about to phone you. I’m working tonight, so I won’t be home until really late.”

“What? But you usually finish work at five,” she said, puzzled.

“Yeah, I do normally but this is just a one-off. One of the docker crews at the quayside has offered me a night shift. I can’t pass it up. It’s good money.”

“Oh, I’m proud of you, Declan,” she trilled. “Working so hard. Wait till I tell your mammy.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Mac. Don’t wait up, okay?”

As he ended the call Declan suddenly panicked.
What if Tom comes back to find the sack? Say he catches me by surprise and finds me in here? What do I do? What do I say? Tom said he was going to Clare’s for tea. I need to know his movements. I need to phone Gina.

“Hi, Gina, is Tom there?” Declan said.

“Yeah, very close, actually.” Gina flashed a look at Tom, who was sitting opposite her at the kitchen table.

“Could you keep an eye on him for me? Let me know if he leaves,” Declan asked.

“Gina, no mobiles at the table,” her mum chastised. “Who is it anyway?”

“Don’t tell her,” the paranoid Declan whispered.

“It’s Becky,” Gina answered.

“Oh,” her mum said, pleasantly surprised. “Well, that’s lovely. I suppose if it’s Becky you can take the call.”

Gina put her hand over the receiver, whispering to her Mum, “I’ll take it outside. She’s traumatized. I think she’s been dumped.”

“I wouldn’t use my mobile at the table if you let me have one,” Danny chipped in.

“Danny, how many times do I have to tell you? You don’t need one until you go to Rylands,” his mum said impatiently.

Gina scurried out of the back door and into the yard. “Declan,” she whispered, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he said unconvincingly.

“Either you tell me, or I’ll tell my mum that Tom is up to something,” she threatened.

“You can’t do that! We can’t prove anything yet.”

“I’m willing to take my chances. This is obviously about Tom, so I want to know exactly what you’re up to.”

“That’s blackmail,” he hissed.

“It’s for your own good. I want to help.”

Declan groaned. “I’m in the warehouse. I think I’ve sussed out what those numbers mean.”

“What! And you weren’t going to tell me?”

“I’ve only just worked it out and I could be wrong,” Declan protested.

“So, what do they mean?” she asked excitedly.

“I think the numbers identify a particular sack of cocoa beans from a particular shipment. You were right; the end numbers are a date, but they’re the date the ship left Africa, not the date it arrived here. That shipment came in today so I think that sack is in the warehouse right now and I need to see what’s inside it.”

“Oh my God! I’m coming to meet you.”

“No, you’re not! It could be dangerous.”

“Then you don’t want to be there on your own, do you?”

“I didn’t know you were some kind of bodyguard in your spare time,” he retorted. “Anyway, I could be here all night and still not find this thing.”

“All the more reason for me to come. Two pairs of eyes will be quicker than one.”

“But I’m locked in. So even if you got past the port gates, you won’t be able to get into the warehouse.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” she said confidently. “See you as soon as I can get away.”

“No! Don’t, Gina! Gina?” Declan was talking to himself.

Gina played the dutiful daughter. She couldn’t do enough for her mum. She volunteered to tidy up the kitchen before joining them in the living room. She sat next to Danny on the floor without making a detour to touch the urn. This caused her mum and Tom to exchange pleased looks.

As the chat show on the TV blurred out, Gina watched Tom out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting in her dad’s armchair as if he was the man of the house. Her mum was on the sofa close by. Gina bristled as she saw Tom reach across to her mum and squeeze her hand. Her mum’s cheeks flushed. Gina held her tongue and bided her time.

It wasn’t long before Tom rose from the armchair and announced, “I should be getting home.”

“Already?” her mum said.

“I need an early night,” he answered.

This was Gina’s chance to put her plan into action.

“Phone!” she said suddenly, waving her mobile at them.

“I didn’t hear it go off,” Danny said.

“It’s on vibrate, dunce. It’s Becky.” Gina walked out of the room, chatting. “Hi, Becky. How’s it going?”

She stood just outside the door having her pretend conversation for all to hear, and, by the time she came back into the room, Tom had his jacket on and was ready to leave.

“Mum, Becky’s invited me for a sleepover,” she said hurriedly.

“Oh, that’s nice, love. I’m so glad you two are friends again. When is it?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? It’s a bit short notice, isn’t it? And it’s a school night. Sorry, Gina, I’m going to have to say no.”

“Oh, come on, Mum! She needs me. She’s in the middle of some boy crisis and it’s
really
nice of her to ask me, because you know how crap I’ve been with all my friends since Dad died.”

“Don’t say crap,” her mum said.

“But, Mum, I’m just beginning to get back in with them. It’ll really help me. You went on and on at me about going out with my friends more, and now I get the chance you won’t let me! Becky’s going to think I don’t like her and everything will be terrible again, just when things were getting better,” Gina pleaded breathlessly.

“But what about school?”

“Becky’s mum’s dead sensible. She won’t let us stay up too late and she said she’d drive us to school in the morning. I’ll just take my uniform.”

She could see that her mum was wavering.

Tom intervened, whispering, “Go on, Clare, let her go. It’ll be good for her. You know I’m right. Wasn’t I right about the urn business?” He looked pleased with himself.

“Well, I suppose you need a break, a bit of fun. One late night won’t be the end of the world, will it? I’m just happy that you’re getting on with your old friends again.”

Her mum smiled and hugged her. Gina swallowed her guilt.

“This is so unfair,” Danny wailed. “I want to go on a sleepover on a school night.”

“You can…when you’re sixteen,” Gina smirked.

“This is age discrimination. There’s probably a law against it.”

“Get over it, Danny.” Gina kissed her squirming brother.

“Why don’t I drop you off?” Tom said. “It’s dark out there.”

“Thanks! I’ll just grab my stuff.” Gina ran upstairs, throwing her uniform into her schoolbag.

They’d only been travelling a couple of minutes when Gina piped up, “It’s just here.” She pointed to the end terrace on the street opposite the entrance to the docks.

He stopped the car. “Have a good time, Gina. And just remember – I’m the one who persuaded your mum to let you come here tonight. I’m on your side.” He patted her knee. She flinched, opening the car door urgently and jumping out.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, perplexed.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, unnerved. “I’ll go down the alley. They never use the front door.”

Gina disappeared down the stranger’s alleyway. She waited and watched as Tom drove off and then rushed to the end of the street, just in time to see his car turning into the entrance of the docks.

She phoned Declan in a panic. “Declan, he’s just driven into the docks!”

She heard a clatter as Declan nearly fell off the ladder. “Shit!” he said. “I’ve got to hide.”

Gina didn’t have to wait long before she saw a juggernaut, signalling to turn into the docks to pick up cargo. She ran across the road and hid by the side of it, out of sight of the security hut and the nightwatchman. As the barrier went up, she entered the port using the monstrous lorry for cover.

Meanwhile, Tom was turning the keys in the warehouse locks.

The alarm sounded a warning as he opened the door. He hurried over to the panel and punched in the code to silence it. Declan watched as Tom started up one of the forklift trucks and headed towards Aisle One.

Gina had never been allowed in the docks at night and creeping around it now, she was spooked. Floodlights blazed everywhere and she scuttled from one pocket of darkness to the next, trying to avoid the gaze of an army of CCTV cameras.

As she approached the quayside, she stood transfixed by the sight of ghostly ships emerging from the rolling fog, their horns bellowing as they came in to dock; their immense bows looked ready to crash through the quayside, destroying everything in their path.

A crew of dockers in their luminous uniforms came towards her, like fireflies. She ducked between piles of crates. As they walked past, she felt something brush against her legs in the darkness. She put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Looking down, she saw a black rat, nearly the size of a cat, scurrying away.

As soon as she dared, Gina made a run for it, heading past the freight trains. She gazed anxiously up at the cranes, which were lowering vast containers onto the waiting carriages. She made it to the complex of warehouses. Fleets of lorries, their headlights on full beam, were standing outside many of them, but all seemed peaceful at the cocoa warehouse, with just one lone car at its entrance.

Gina started walking briskly towards it when, from round the corner, a sudden torch beam threatened to expose her. She dropped to the ground, her knees and hands splashing into a pool of diesel oil. The security guard’s radio crackled and she heard him reply.

“No, it’s as quiet as the grave tonight. I’ll just finish my route and come back. Put the kettle on, will you? I’m freezing.”

Gina didn’t move a muscle as the torch beam passed over her head and the security guard went on his way.

She ran behind Tom’s car and phoned Declan.

“What do you want, Gina?” he whispered. “Tom’s in here.”

“I know. Let me in. I’m outside.”

“What? No! Go home!”

“Security will catch me. You’ve got to let me in. It can’t be hard. The warehouse is big enough for him not to see you.”

Declan knew that she wouldn’t go away until he did. He snuck out of his hiding place and painstakingly edged his way between the aisles towards the door. When he reached it, he eased it open, flinching at every creak.

He pulled Gina inside and out of sight.

“For God’s sake, Gina. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to help,” Gina whispered, her eyes shining with adrenalin.

“Help!” he hissed. “You’re going to get us both caught. This isn’t a game.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she said earnestly. “I need to be here. What if whatever’s in that sack has something to do with my dad’s death?”