Lone Wolf (5 page)

8. PREDATOR

A secure training centre is as hard to break out of as an adult prison, but in most other respects Idris was far less strict. Guards were known by their first names. Wendy, the head of Fay’s wing, sat at a desk with the slogan
Every Child Matters
painted on the wall behind.

‘Well, Fay, what have you got to say for yourself?’

Fay sat across the desk from the uniformed officer and pursed her lips like she was about to say something important. But she didn’t.

‘A new inmate. Physically small, facing a difficult period of adjustment. You march into the laundry room. You assault her room-mate, Chloe, then you assault Izzy and drag her back to her cell demanding money with menaces.’

Fay shrugged. ‘If you say so.’

‘I can understand why some girls in here lash out. They have emotional problems. They have eating disorders, substance problems or a history of abuse. Many of them have basic educational difficulties. But you’re an exceptionally bright young lady. You should do well in your GCSEs. You’re athletic. The only reason you won’t get into a good university is if you let yourself down.’

Fay cleared her throat. ‘When I was ten years old, I came back from the shop and found my mum hacked to pieces by a drug dealer. Last year my aunt Kirsten got suffocated in prison while she was awaiting trial. Murdered by another drug dealer. Those were the only two people I cared about. And the only two people who’ve ever cared about me.’

‘People here care,’ Wendy said.

Fay snorted. ‘You’ll be glad to see the back of me.’

‘Fay, you’ve discussed this in group counselling – at least until you refused to attend any more sessions. We’ve given you techniques for dealing with your past and coping with strong emotions.’

Fay laughed. ‘I stopped going because therapy is all bullshit. My aunt Kirsten is the only one who understood.’

‘Understood what?’

‘That I like it.’

‘Like what?’

‘I like the life,’ Fay said, finally raising her voice above a dull monotone. ‘The shiver that goes down your back when you’re about to rip someone off. The look of fear on someone’s face when you put a knife to their throat. Running away, knowing that you’re dead if you’re not fast enough. Once you’ve lived the life, it’s hard to knuckle down to that history essay, or get excited about the next plot twist in
EastEnders
.’

Wendy cleared her throat awkwardly. ‘And you replicate that thrill by bullying some poor girl like Izzy?’

Fay laughed. ‘First off, that
poor
girl is a crazy loon who tried to poison half her family. Second, the world is full of sheep. Millions and millions of ’em, living their dreary little lives. Then there’s a few wolves, and their job is to eat a couple of sheep once in a while.’

‘So you’re a wolf?’ Wendy asked.

‘Absolutely.’

‘And it doesn’t matter if wolves hurt sheep?’

Fay laughed. ‘Not to the wolf it doesn’t.’

‘So when you get out of here in a couple of weeks’ time, what do you plan to do?’

Fay shrugged. ‘Oh, I’m gonna straighten right up. Get my exams, go to university. Marry a guy called Connor. We’ll have a Labradoodle called Scotty, three kids, a Ford C-Max and a little cottage in Suffolk for the weekends.’

Wendy shook her head and spoke firmly. ‘Well, I very much hope that you do find stability before you mess your life up. But after this afternoon’s incident you’ll be going into segregation for five days and I’ll provide you with a copy of this institution’s anti-bullying policy.’

Fay rolled her eyes. ‘I’m sure it’s a gripping read.’

*

The campus paintball range wasn’t huge, but it was big enough that two groups moving stealthily could go a long time without bumping into each other.

For almost an hour, Ryan and Theo crept around, searching for Ning as the sun rose and sweat bristled under their masks and overalls. They found several sites where Ning’s team had unearthed bags of equipment, but no trace of Ning herself.

‘I bet she’s gone way up in a tree or something,’ Theo said.

‘Hope not,’ Ryan said forlornly. ‘Speaks said we’ll all get punished if neither side wins and I don’t fancy more running in this heat.’

‘What if I try luring her out?’ Theo suggested. ‘I’ll move out in the open. When Ning shoots me, you’ll shoot her and be the last man standing.’

Ryan shrugged. ‘That’s not a
great
plan, but it’s better than anything else we’ve got.’

The obvious spot was the open ground right at the front by the main gates. Ryan was irritated when he saw Leon, Daniel, Alfie and Grace sat outside the changing hut with their overalls off and bottles of ice-cold water in their hands. It felt like they were being rewarded for getting knocked out.

But Ryan didn’t have long for this thought, because there was the clap of a paintball the minute Theo stepped into the open. The shot had come from a long way off and missed by several metres.

‘Can’t shoot straight!’ Theo taunted, as he sprinted across the open grass and dived into a bunker.

Ryan was anxious: if Theo was too bold, he’d get himself killed before there was a chance for him to close on the position where the shots were coming from. Fortunately, some assistance came from Leon on the outside.

‘She’s between the two big oak trees.’

This remark caused outrage from the two members of Ning’s team, who immediately began shouting information.

‘Ning,’ Alfie shouted. ‘Theo’s in the first bunker up near the gate. Ryan’s gone into the trees, trying to flank you.’

‘Just come out and have a shoot-up,’ Daniel said irritably. ‘We’ll all get nuked by Mr Speaks if nobody wins.’

As Theo crouched in the bunker, dodging occasional wild shots from Ning, Ryan had ducked into the trees and closed on Ning’s position. After a minute he was close enough to the two big oak trees to see where Ning was hiding.

Ryan dropped to a crawl as more shouts came from outside the fence.

‘Theo’s out of the bunker!’

Just as Ryan thought he was about to best Ning, he was startled by a rustling in the leaves behind. He swung around and took a quick-but-wild shot. Ning had taken up a position behind a tree less than four metres away.

Ryan crawled on his belly, keeping an eye out for any movement. When he got to within two metres, Ning sprang out from behind the tree and took a couple of shots. Ryan rolled out of the way, but his return shots were as bad as Ning’s.

But he could hear Ning running and – with the fact that they’d all get punished if neither team won – he decided that it would be best to chase after her. Over several hundred metres Ryan and Ning traded shots, several of which missed by only a few centimetres.

Eventually Ning found herself in the lowest part of the paintball range, which would run with a small stream after heavy rain. She dived against the embankment and waited, but it had all gone silent. After a couple of minutes with no sign of any noise, Ning crept back up the shallow embankment, using the paintball splats on leaves and branches as a reminder of her route.

She was surprised to see a leg sticking out from beside a tree root. Ning instantly shot it, but grew concerned when there was no movement.

‘Ryan?’

Ning crouched in the grass and rolled Ryan on to his back.

‘Ryan, are you OK?’

Ryan raised a hand to his head and spoke slowly. ‘I think I bumped my head on something while I was running.’

As Ning leaned further forwards to give Ryan an arm up, Theo jumped out from a position a few metres away and shot Ning square in the visor, leaving her half blind.

‘Dead meat!’ Theo shouted excitedly.

But Ning had other concerns. ‘Ryan hit his head on a branch. I think he’s got concussion.’

Ryan cracked a big smile and shrugged. ‘Me head’s fine, I don’t know what she’s on about.’

Ning shot back to her feet and threw her gun down furiously. ‘You . . . You, utter, utter . . . Lying, cheating . . .’

But there was something infectious about Theo’s victory smile, and Ning started to laugh.

‘I’ll get you two back for this,’ Ning said, as she walked towards the gates with her arms raised. ‘I don’t know how or when, but some fine day, when you least expect it . . .’

9. SEGREGATION

Wendy the guard opened a barred gate and offered a handshake to the policeman on the other side.

‘Detective Constable Schaeffer,’ Wendy said, shaking the officer’s hand. He was a tall man, with curly brown hair and a bulbous nose, but his most distinctive feature was the long scar Fay Hoyt had left down his cheek. ‘Welcome to Idris STC.’

Wendy led the officer a few metres to her office, and noted that he was holding a brown paper McDonald’s bag.

‘So the injuries Fay inflicted, is there anything beyond the scarring?’ Wendy asked.

‘Some nerve damage,’ Schaeffer said. ‘My cheek feels numb a lot of the time. It’s worst when you try to eat and end up with food dribbling down your face.’

‘You harbour no resentment towards her?’

Schaeffer shook his head. ‘I’m not Fay’s number one fan. But I regularly deal with people a lot less pleasant than her.’

Wendy slid a piece of paper across the desk. ‘This form gives you our consent to interview Fay. However, as Fay is a minor and there is no other adult present, nothing can be recorded or used in evidence and you must leave the room if she requests it.’

‘I know the score,’ Schaeffer nodded. ‘This isn’t about anything Fay’s done in the past. I’m hoping to offer her a path to redemption, and a way of avenging the death of her aunt.’

Wendy smiled wryly as she grabbed a worksheet off the desk and held it up. ‘As I warned when you phoned to request the interview, Fay’s never been very cooperative. For the last three days she’s been confined to our segregation room after a bullying incident. Anyone who bullies is required to complete a series of anti-bullying worksheets. Here’s an example of Fay’s answers:

‘Question four.
If I see another inmate being bullied, what should I do?
Fay’s answer,
Grind up some glass and put it in their breakfast cereal
. Question nine,
If your room-mate bullies or intimidates you during the night, what is your best response?
Fay’s answer,
Wait till they fall asleep, then slit their guts open before plaiting their entrails to make an attractive skipping rope.’

‘Quite an imagination,’ Schaeffer said.

‘So now you’ve signed the form, would you like to meet the beast?’

Wendy led Schaeffer to the isolation room, which was located directly opposite her office.

‘Iso rules are harsh,’ Wendy explained. ‘Fay gets one set of clothes, school books and personal hygiene items only. There’s no TV or radio and you’re only allowed out of the room to exercise for one hour after the other girls have been locked down for the night.’

As she finished speaking, Wendy knocked on the door.

‘Fay, Detective Constable Schaeffer is here to see you.’

‘What’s he brought for me?’ Fay asked.

‘McFlurry,’ Schaeffer said.

‘In that case you can come in.’

Fay hadn’t showered in the three days she’d been in isolation, but she’d kept herself busy with a routine of sit-ups, squats and push-ups. Combined with hot weather, the resulting BO was pretty toxic.

‘Nice scar. How’d you get that?’ Fay asked, before breaking into wild laughter.

‘Show some respect,’ Wendy said.

‘Kinda sexy, I reckon,’ Fay said, ignoring the guard. ‘Do you pull a lot of chicks?’

Schaeffer held out the McDonald’s bag and Fay snatched it.

‘McFlurry!’ she blurted happily. ‘Did you get Crunchie like I asked? If it’s not Crunchie you’re not getting another word out of me.’

Fay dipped the plastic spoon into the McFlurry and nodded happily when she crunched honeycomb.

‘So good!’ she said, squealing girlishly. ‘Why don’t you sit down?’

Schaeffer settled on the end of Fay’s bed.

‘Here’s a question,’ Fay said. ‘You must be at least forty. But you’re still Detective Constable Schaeffer. So does that mean you’re a rubbish cop?’

Schaeffer cleared his throat before explaining. ‘A lot of officers prefer action to paperwork. When you get promoted, you tend to spend a lot more time sitting at a desk.’

‘So you’re an ack-shonnnn man!’ Fay said as she scoffed more of the McFlurry. ‘I’m not usually this hyper, but I haven’t had a conversation in three days. Apart from the boring cow who walks me around outside after lights out.’

‘It must be very hard for a girl with your potential to be stuck in a little room,’ Schaeffer said.

‘You’re actually lucky I got my butt locked in iso,’ Fay said. ‘I thought it would be funny if I made you come here, buy me a McFlurry and then gave you the silent treatment.’

Wendy raised one eyebrow and looked at Schaeffer as she backed out. ‘Good luck, I’m just across the hall if you need me.’

‘You wanna shag me, constable?’ Fay said, trying but failing to shock the experienced officer. ‘Bit of under-age naughtiness?’

‘You don’t like me and I don’t like you,’ Schaeffer began. ‘But we do have an enemy in common.’

‘I don’t have enemies, I love everyone.’

Schaeffer looked surprised. ‘Even Erasto Ali Anwar?’

‘Never heard of him,’ Fay said.

‘Born Somalia circa 1983. Based in the Kentish Town area of north London. Believed to control large heroin and cocaine operations in the London boroughs of Islington, Camden, Haringey and Hackney. On the street, he’s simply known as Hagar.’

Fay nodded, and looked slightly curious. ‘I never knew the man’s real name.’

‘Hagar and his crew are believed to be responsible for the 2009 torture and execution of Melanie Hoyt, your mother, and the 2012 prison slaying of Kirsten Hoyt, your aunt.’

‘I know that much,’ Fay said.

‘Your mother and aunt ripped off Hagar more than a dozen times, along with a bunch of other north London drug dealers. To commit those robberies, they had to know everything. Hagar’s habits, his hangouts, his women, who his sidekicks are, what he liked to do on his days off. You lived in that world and knew everything there was to know about Hagar.’

Fay gently shook her head. ‘
Knew
,’ she said. ‘Past tense. Things move fast.’

‘If I put you in a car and drove you around those neighbourhoods, I bet you could point out things and faces that would generate a dozen leads.’

‘Hagar’s been running the show for twenty years,’ Fay said. ‘If you want him, go get him.’

‘Hagar’s also extremely careful,’ Schaeffer explained. ‘He rarely goes near cash or drugs, he gets other people to fetch and carry and dole out punishment beatings. We’ve locked up a dozen of Hagar’s lieutenants, but it’s been hard to pin anything on the man himself.’

Fay snorted. ‘Plus half the cops in north London take backhanders to turn a blind eye.’

‘I find that hard to believe,’ Schaeffer said, assuming that Fay was trying to shock him again. ‘But if you’ve got any evidence of corrupt police officers, I’d be very happy to hear about it.’

Fay was irritated by Schaeffer’s calm demeanour and tried to think of something that might annoy him.

‘Do you think about me every time you look in the mirror?’ Fay asked. ‘You must really hate me.’

‘Do you want me to hate you?’ Schaeffer asked.

‘I don’t care what you think,’ Fay said.

‘I think you do,’ Schaeffer said. ‘Not because you’re the badass you try and make yourself out to be, but because me thinking about you would mean that someone in the world cared that you existed. Your mum and your aunt are dead. You’ve got no real connection with anyone, and bullying and acting crazy are the only ways you know you’ll get attention.

‘In a couple of weeks’ time you’ll be released into a foster-home or a care facility. It probably won’t be very nice. But if you keep things straight you’ll gradually make friends, pass your exams and start to lead a normal teenage life.’

‘Who the hell are you?’ Fay screamed, as she stood up and placed her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t act like you know everything about me.’

‘You’re angry about what happened to your aunt and your mother,’ Schaeffer said. ‘I’m offering you a chance to take a walk around your old haunts, look at some photos in our suspect books and give us everything you know about Hagar and his crew. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll give us a sliver of information that will help us put some or all of them behind bars.’

‘I don’t want Hagar in prison, I want him to die,’ Fay said. ‘Preferably in the most painful way imaginable.’

Schaeffer shrugged. ‘I’m afraid we live in a society of laws. I can’t offer barbaric punishments, but if Hagar goes down, it will be for a very long time.’

‘I’ll sort Hagar out,’ Fay said, as she finished the McFlurry.

‘Oh come on,’ Schaeffer said, smiling slightly. ‘You’re a fifteen-year-old girl.’

‘And I’m no grass.’

‘You’re seriously telling me that you don’t want to spend a few hours helping the police arrest the people who killed your aunt and mother?’

Fay scowled. ‘I fight my own battles.’

‘Your aunt and mother were both older and more experienced than you are and Hagar got them in the end. His crew are probably more powerful now than when you went inside eighteen months ago. So I
really
hope you’re not foolish enough to mess with them.’

Fay shook her head. ‘I’d like you to leave now.’

Schaeffer took a business card out of his jacket. He held it out, but Fay refused to take it.

‘I’ll leave it on the window ledge,’ Schaeffer said. ‘Please give me a call before you try anything stupid.’