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Authors: Malorie Blackman

Tags: #Ages 9 & up

Checkmate (24 page)

BOOK: Checkmate
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fifty-seven. Sephy

I heard all kinds of shouting and crashing and swearing behind me but I didn't look back and I certainly didn't stop. A terrifying feeling
of déjà-vu
bit savagely at me. The past and present combined to play tricks in my head. A hallway, a beach . . . the smell of the sea, the smell of my sweat dripping past my eyes, the feel of perspiration prickling the skin beneath my nose, tiny rocks and stones pricking the soles of my feet, the sound of the sea crashing on the shore . . . Only it wasn't the sound of the sea, it was the sound of my blood racing through me. Being chased by Callum, being chased by Noughts, being chased . . .

Run, Sephy. Run.

I flung myself at the back door, pushing down on the bar handle that ran across the width of the door to open it. A blast of traffic noise hit me. The restaurant bins had been put out, ready to be emptied, and although the rain had now stopped, huge drops of water dripped off them, audibly hitting the pavement. Should I stop and push one in front of the exit? No time. Just run, Sephy. Lose yourself in the afternoon crowd.

Don't let them catch you.

Not again.

I weaved in and out of those around me, who all seemed to be walking towards rather than away from me so that I was moving against the flow. Some still had their umbrellas up, unaware that the rain had now stopped. Maybe that would work in my favour?

'Ow!'

'Watch it!'

Sharp comments and dirty looks followed in my wake, but I didn't stop running. Had I been followed? Were Jordy's henchmen still after me? I didn't even know. I hadn't turned my head once to find out. I ducked into a fairly crowded boutique and ran straight up to the Nought woman serving behind the counter. I was going to ask for her help but then I saw the phone on the counter.

'May I use your phone please?'

'I'm sorry, but our phones are not for customer use—' The woman began an obviously well-rehearsed line.

'Please. It's urgent. A matter of life and death,' I said.

The woman eyed me with suspicion. I knew what I must look like, some down-and-out hiding out of the rain and trying her luck. My T-shirt was clinging like a second skin and my jeans felt horribly cool and clammy, but they were the least of my problems.

'I'm not joking. Please,' I pleaded. 'I need to use a phone.'

'Go on then,' she said, still eyeing me, not bothering to hide her chary expression. 'But you'll have to pay for the call.'

'Fine. Whatever,' I said, grabbing at the phone.

I had a quick scan around but I couldn't see Jordy or the others. Were they back at Specimens? And what were they doing to Nathan?

Without wasting any more time, I dialled the police.

fifty-eight. Jude

'Hello, Callie Rose.'

'Uncle! What're you doing here?' Callie's face broke into an instant smile.

I looked around as others swarmed out of the hallowed gates of Heathcroft High. There were more luxury cars and top-down convertibles and SUVs coming out of the school driveway than in the biggest car dealership in town. The early autumn sunshine shone down on the favoured like the earlier rain was just an illusion. Lots of Cross mums and a few Cross dads ensuring that their little Cross darlings mixed with the right sort. After all, you were never too young to start networking. Friends made now became the business contacts of tomorrow. There were some halfers, Callie included, but very few Noughts

which was probably one of the top five reasons why a number of these Crosses wanted their bastard kids to go to Heathcroft in the first place.

'I've got a surprise for you,' I said, turning my attention back to my quarry.

'Oh yeah? What's that?' Callie asked eagerly.

'Do you have to go straight home or can I borrow you for an hour or two?' I said so that only Callie would hear me. 'The rain has finally stopped so what I have in mind will be fun.'

Callie worried the corner of her lip. 'I suppose I could tell Nana that I'm going round to Sammi's to do some homework again. Can I use your mobile to phone home?'

'Of course you can,' I smiled.

It really shouldn't be this easy.

'I don't like lying to Nana and Mum though,' said Callie.

'It's only a little Cross lie, not an evil Nought lie,' I said deliberately.

'I don't like that saying.' Callie scowled at me. 'Lies aren't people.'

I almost had to bite my lip to stop myself from answering that one, however tempting. Callie was incredibly book smart and very real-world ignorant. That's what came from too much cosseting.

'It's a little lie which isn't going to harm anyone and I'll get you home in time to do your homework,' I promised.

'OK then. Where's your car?'

I led the way through the throng of home-goers. No one was paying too much attention to us, which was just the way I wanted it. This was going to be dangerous enough. I couldn't risk using backup this time. Where I was going made it too dangerous and I couldn't risk the lives of any of my associates in that way. I hadn't even told Morgan. I used my key to open the car doors and we both got in, with Callie sitting in the passenger seat next to me.

'Seat belt,' I said with patience. I always had to remind Callie to put on her seat belt. There was no way I wanted her to fly through my windscreen, at least not until I'd finished using her.

As Callie buckled up, she asked, 'So where are we going?'

'You'll see,' I told her.

'You're being very mysterious,' Callie complained.

'Years of training and practice,' I told her.

'Why does an insurance salesman need to practise being mysterious?' asked Callie.

'How else would I sell something as boring as insurance otherwise. I do magic tricks and play all kinds of sleight-of-hand games with this hand.' I waved my right hand at her. 'And with
this
hand, I get people to sign up for whatever I want.'

'Are you good?'

'I'm the best,' I told her.

And we set off.

*

'Here we are,' I announced.

'At last,' said Callie. She looked out of her car window. 'Where are we?'

'Your grandfather's house,' I told her.

'Grandad Kamal?' Callie turned eyes as big as saucers to me.

'That's right.'

'Which one is Grandad's house?' Callie asked urgently.

'You see that road? He lives just round the corner, in the last house on the right. You can't miss it. It's one of only two houses in the entire street.'

I'd seen photos of Kamal Hadley's house and its neighbour. They faced each other like gloating sentinels, surrounded by immaculate lawns and an abundance of shrubs and flowers. It was tempting to drive round the corner and take a look for myself, but I couldn't risk getting any closer than this. Kamal's house had two guards on permanent duty patrolling its perimeter at all times. We in the Liberation Militia knew the addresses and details of all Members of Parliament, plus the habits and security arrangements of the major players in both the government and the Opposition.

'Is Grandad Kamal in?' asked Callie.

'I have it on good authority that he is.'

'Can I go and see him?' Callie was almost bouncing in her seat.

'Have you met him before?'

'No. I've only seen him on TV or in newspapers. Mum says he does a lot of travelling up and down the country and abroad,' said Callie, adding thoughtfully, 'Lots of people travel a lot but they still make time for their family.
I must admit, I wondered if maybe Grandad and my mum had a big quarrel and he didn't want to see me.'

'I'm sure that's not true. Maybe it was your mum who didn't want you to see your grandad?' I said lightly.

I was gratified to see Callie considering this.

'Can we get closer?'

'I can't.' I shook my head. 'But you can.'

'Why can't you?' asked Callie, surprised.

'A major part of the reason your mum and I . . . fell out, was because of your grandad.'

'What did he do?'

'Maybe we'll discuss it when you're older.'

Callie huffed. 'Why do all adults say that? How old do I have to be before my family start telling me the truth?'

'Only you can decide that.' I smiled inwardly. She thought her family were lying to her. Excellent. 'Off you go. You've got about half an hour before I have to get you back.'

'OK, Uncle. Well, the sun is shining, so that's a good sign.' Callie started to get out of the car.

'Oh, Callie Rose, don't tell anyone that I brought you here. If anyone asks, you took the train and a bus. OK?'

Callie nodded.

I watched her as she walked up the wide road and round the corner towards Kamal Hadley's house. In a detached, careless kind of way, I almost felt sorry for her. The outcome of this event was almost mundane in its predictability.

fifty-nine. Sephy

At first, Nathan didn't want to go to hospital but the paramedics weren't the only ones to insist. One eye was completely swollen shut and he had a puffy cheek and cuts and bruises all over his face. The paramedic I spoke to suspected by the way Nathan was holding his side that he might be nursing one or more cracked ribs. But the police refused to let us go until we'd answered what they called 'a few' questions first.

The Cross woman in charge was Detective Inspector Muswell. She questioned Nathan first, then turned her attention to me.

'So two men pushed their way in here when you opened the door?' DI Muswell asked.

'I didn't open the door, Nathan did,' I replied, resisting the temptation to look at Nathan for confirmation that I was saying the right thing.

'Can you describe them please?' An eager Nought policeman stood next to DI Muswell, a small spiral-bound notebook in one hand, a pencil poised in the other.

'Two Nought men.' I shrugged. 'One about six feet, the other taller.'

'Were either of them carrying weapons?'

'Not that I saw, but I didn't see much. I was in my dressing room most of the time.'

'But you did see the attackers?'

I nodded. The DI looked at me expectantly but I decided to shut up. It was best to keep my answers short and simple.

'What colour hair did they both have?'

'Lightish-brown. Dark-blond. Not too dark.'

'What else?'

'What d'you mean?'

'You watched two men beat up your employer and you can't remember more than their hair colour?' DI Muswell asked, not bothering to hide her scepticism.

'They came in the front, I was in the back. When they started threatening Nathan, I sneaked a peek, saw it was serious and then ran out the back to get help,' I explained.

'Well, is there anything else you can tell me about either one of the assailants?'

I opened my mouth to tell her what they were wearing but I sensed rather than saw Nathan's frown. So I shook my head instead.

'I wasn't paying much attention and, as I said, when the aggro started, I ran for help.'

The detective inspector didn't like it but she must've known she wouldn't get much more information out of me.

'And you, Mr Ealing, do you have anything more to add to your previous statement?'

'. . . hard to see faces when eyes pummelled shut,' Nathan said haltingly, trying not to wince. His bottom lip was cut and swollen.

DI Muswell looked from Nathan to me and back again. 'Mr Ealing, do you know a man called Jordache Carson?'

Nathan tried to shake his head, but grimaced as his neck muscles protested. 'No. Why?'

'Because I smell his hands all over this,' said the DI. 'Mr Ealing, I promise you that if you testify against him, we'll protect you. You too, Miss Hadley.'

Nathan gave what sounded suspiciously like a snort.

'We can put you in our witness protection programme,' DI Muswell said sincerely.

'Protect from whom? Carson, or busloads police in . . . back pocket?' stammered Nathan.

'Mr Ealing, listen—' DI Muswell began, but she didn't get very far. The paramedics were now insisting on taking Nathan to hospital, so the DI had no choice but to let us go. And not a moment too soon. My legs were turning boneless under me.

Once the phone was dusted for prints, the crime scene officer gave me permission to use it. I phoned Ron, Nathan's manager, to come and sort the place out. Then I insisted on travelling in the back of the ambulance with Nathan.

'How're you feeling?' I asked softly once the ambulance was under way.

'Under weather,' said Nathan.

I had to smile, even though the sight of Nathan's battered face brought tears to my eyes.

Specimens stays open,' said Nathan, touching a tentative hand to his bottom lip. 'Tell Ron.'

'I'll tell him.'

There was plenty I wanted to say but the paramedic riding in the back of the ambulance with us was inhibiting to say the least.

'OK, till I'm back,' said Nathan awkwardly.

It took me a moment to figure out what he was trying to say. 'Me or the restaurant?'

'Both.'

'I'll be fine,' I assured him. 'I've been through worse. And Ron and I will take care of the place.'

'Nothing till come back,' said Nathan, his voice trailing off.

'He's going into shock,' said the paramedic, pushing me to one side.

I watched Nathan through anxious eyes. I understood what he was saying. He reckoned nothing would happen to Specimens or us until he got out of the hospital and back to work.

But what then?

And in the meantime, would Jordache Carson be back to try and find out who'd witnessed that evening's events? One way or another my life had suddenly become very complicated.

BOOK: Checkmate
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