The Front (8 page)

       
‘Someone will have to go back for it,’ suggested Sam. ‘We can’t afford to just leave it there. They’re bound to find it.’

       
Ged sat back and folded his arms. ‘Well, you can count me out.’

       
‘Thanks for nothing!’ said Mal, his face falling even further. ‘At least if you got pulled with it there wouldn’t be any of your hair or nothing on it. You could easy say you’d just picked it up. But me? I’d be fucked, wouldn’t I? Well, thanks, mate!’

       
‘You shouldn’t have been so bloody careless!’ Ged retorted angrily. ‘Why the hell should I put my neck on the line for you?’

       
‘I’d do it for you!’

       
‘Yeah, right!’

       
‘Do you want me to go?’ Suzie offered, her voice little more than a whisper.

       
Mal’s eyes sparked with sudden hope. ‘Yeah, doll! Yeah! You go. It’s in the bushes near the road, you’ll find it dead easy!’ Raising himself onto his knees, he gave her a tender look. ‘God, you’re a knockout. What would I do without you?’

       
Suzie smiled faintly. Standing up, she reached for a cigarette with shaking hands.

       
‘You’re not seriously going to let her go, are you?’ demanded Ged. ‘The place is probably crawling with filth by now.’

       
Mal waved a dismissive hand. ‘It’ll be cool, man. I chucked it close to the road. They’ll be in the yard if they are there. They wouldn’t even see her going past the front way.’

       
Ged shook his head in disbelief. ‘You selfish bastard! They’ll be watching everything – the road, the shops, the flats. They’d see her and you know it. But you don’t give a damn, do you? As long as you’re all right.’

       
‘Don’t give me that shit,’ Mal scowled. ‘You just want me to go and get myself busted, don’t you?’

       
Sensing a fight brewing and knowing she’d somehow get the blame, Suzie said, ‘It’s all right, I’ll go. I don’t mind. I’ll just walk past and see what’s going on, and if it’s all clear, I’ll go and find the mask. Just give me a minute to get dressed.’

       
Mal caught her hand as she passed, squeezing it tightly. ‘You’ll be fine, doll.’

       
‘Yeah.’ With another faint smile, she walked towards the door. Then, remembering Wendy’s call, she turned to Sam. ‘Oh, by the way, Sam. Wendy rang just before you got back and said to tell you to go straight home.’

       
Sam’s face fell. ‘Shit! I can’t go home while all this is going on.’ He turned to Ged and Mal helplessly. ‘What should I do?’

       
‘Better ring her.’ Mal gestured to the phone with a wave, then turned his attention back to the money. Now he was in the clear he could afford to luxuriate in the moment. Picking up a thick bundle he sniffed it, closing his eyes in ecstasy.

       
Sam stared blankly at the floor. He didn’t want to talk to Wendy. They’d only argue and he didn’t think he could cope with any more aggro. But it’d be worse if he didn’t call her. Reluctantly, he reached for the phone and dialled his number, resting his burning forehead against the cool wall as he waited for Wendy to answer.

       
Behind him, Ged was still trying to change Mal’s mind about sending Suzie out. ‘It’s wrong, man. What if she gets pulled?’

       
Mal looked up from the money slowly, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘Why are you so bothered about her all of a sudden? What’s it to you, eh? You gone sweet on my woman now, have you?’

       
‘Give me strength!’ Ged snorted, shaking his head as he stared off into space.

       
‘Well?’ Mal persisted, sure he’d stumbled across the real reason for Ged’s concern. ‘Want a piece, do you? Not got none of your own now, so you just thought you’d help yourself to a little piece of mine, eh?’

       
‘Behave yourself,’ snapped Ged. ‘You know me better than that!’ Snatching his cigarettes off the table, he lit one and blew a fierce stream of smoke at the carpet. Mal was pissing him off – big time! But no good would come of ripping the little shit’s head off his shoulders – no matter how much he’d like to do just that. Tapping ash onto his knee, he rubbed it in slowly and struggled to regain his calm.

       
‘Look,’ he said eventually. ‘Just think about it, will you? It’s not just your head on the line if she gets pulled, is it? She’s only a kid. She won’t stand a chance if the police get hold of her.’

       
Mal shrugged. ‘She might be young, but she’s not stupid. She knows how to keep her mouth shut.’

       
Ged gritted his teeth. ‘But she shouldn’t have to. It’s nothing to do with her.’

       
Mal frowned. He just wanted to count the money, but he couldn’t concentrate with Ged moaning like a little old woman. ‘Look, just chill out, will you?’ he snapped. ‘Everything’s gonna be fine. For God’s sake, look!’ He swept a hand across the money. ‘We’ve got a shed-load of dosh, and you’re still not happy. What’s up your arse tonight? A fucking wasp?’

       
Ged looked away in disgust as Mal laughed at his own joke.

       
‘Wendy, I’ve told you . . . I can’t!’ Sam whined into the phone behind them. ‘No, don’t, Wendy! Oh, shit!’

       
Slamming the receiver down, he flopped heavily down on the floor next to Mal and plucked at a loose thread in the carpet. ‘She’s coming over.’

       
‘You what?’ Mal stared at him. ‘She can’t!’

       
Sam blushed and lowered his eyes. ‘I tried to tell her that, but she wasn’t having it.’ Grabbing one of the bundles off the table, he ran his thumb through it, mumbling into his chest: ‘You know what she’s like.’

       
‘Great. That’s all we need,’ Ged muttered darkly.

       
‘Ah, well . . .’ Mal shrugged and turned back to the money. ‘Too late to worry now. We’d better just get this little lot sorted before she gets here.’ Picking the largest wad up, he threw it to Ged with a grin. ‘Here, you miserable bastard . . . Count that!’

       
Catching it, Ged fingered the money with a heavy sigh, then reluctantly started counting.

       
They fell silent as they immersed themselves in the task, the only sound in the room the noisy licking of fingers as they carefully flipped back the layers of notes.

       
In the background, the front door clicked shut as Suzie let herself out. None of them noticed.

       
After a while, Sam looked up, his eyes glittering brightly as thoughts of Wendy’s impending arrival were overtaken by greed. ‘There’s three thousand, two hundred here,’ he whispered.

       
‘And I’ve got two thou six,’ Mal whooped joyfully, pushing another bundle across the table to Sam. ‘What’s that come to, Ged?’

       
‘Five eight,’ said Ged, without looking up from the wad he was halfway through. ‘And I’ve counted twelve up to now.’

       
Mal laughed. ‘Better get a move on, man! We’re well ahead of you here!’

       
‘Twelve grand,’ Ged said quietly, smiling in spite of himself.

       
‘You’re joking!’ Mal looked up wide-eyed. ‘Twelve thou? And you’re only halfway through?’

       
Ged nodded, leafing rapidly through the notes. ‘Fifteen now.’

       
‘And there’s another nine hundred here.’ Sam gave a childlike grin. ‘Bloody hell! We should open our own supermarket if this is the kind of dosh they make in a week!’

       
‘Sack that!’ Mal laughed. ‘We’d make more in a tits-’n’-tush shop! Bluies and vibrators, an’ that!’

       
When the money was all counted and heaped in neat piles on the table, they sat and stared from it to each other in wordless wonder. It was Sam who finally broke the awed silence. Whistling long and low, he shook his head slowly, wiping a glistening sheen of sweat off his forehead onto the back of his hand.

       
‘Man, that’s beautiful. How much altogether, Ged?’

       
‘Sixty-eight thousand, six hundred – give or take a few quid,’ said Ged slowly.

       
Mal and Sam couldn’t keep the grins from creeping across their faces. Sixty-eight thousand pounds! More money than they’d ever seen in their lives. Jumping to their feet, they threw their arms around each other and danced around the room, yelling: ‘Yes! Yes!’

       
Breaking the dance, Sam squatted down beside Ged. ‘How much is that each?’

       
Ged cast him a sideways glance, a small smile lifting his lip. ‘Twenty-two and a half, and some small change.’

       
‘Oh . . . my . . . God!’ gasped Mal, dropping to his knees and staring at the pile in wonder. ‘Lee only expected about ten gees altogether!’

       
The mention of Lee brought them back down to earth with a bang. How could they have left him lying back there, not even knowing if he was dead or alive?

       
Ged’s conscience pricked him sharply. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘Um – better split it four ways. Just in case, yeah?’

       
‘Yeah,’ Sam shamefacedly agreed. ‘How much is that, then?’

       
Ged did a quick calculation. ‘Seventeen thousand.’ He smiled, shrugging lightly. ‘Still not bad, eh?’

       
‘This calls for a celebration!’ Mal rubbed his hands together greedily. He was rich! Rich! ‘Sam, go and get some cans out of the fridge while me and Ged share this out.’

       
Splitting the pile roughly, Mal pushed half across the table to Ged, while Sam, feeling more than a little left out, sloped off to the kitchen to get the cans.

It took Suzie almost fifteen minutes to half walk, half run to the shops. When she got there, she was more relieved than she’d ever been in her life to find nothing amiss. No police vans, no crowd of onlookers – nothing. Only too aware that this could soon change, she hopped over the low fence and ducked into the dark undergrowth.

       
Already petrified, her nerves jarred at every sound as she began her frantic search for the discarded mask. Every twig she stepped on seemed to echo loud and clear through the still night air, and every leaf rustling in the slight breeze became a forest in a raging storm.

       
When she’d been at it for ten minutes, paranoia began to take hold. It suddenly occurred to her that the police might have already been. They could have been, taken the bodies away – and the mask – and be lying in wait at this very moment, praying for an idiot like her to come along and wrap the whole case up for them. She was a sitting duck!

       
Her heart was already firmly lodged in her throat when she heard the car turning onto the road behind her. A shock wave coursed down her spine as it came closer and closer. Crouching lower as the approaching headlights illuminated the bushes, she winced as a prickly branch dug its spikes into her tender face. Holding her breath, she bit down on her hand to stop herself crying out as the car came alongside, then sailed past.

       
When the road was quiet again, she exhaled with a sob and rested her forehead on her knees to stem the rising nausea. Wobbling unsteadily as her head began to spin, she felt herself falling forwards. Clutching at the bushes to stop herself, her hand brushed against something cold and damp—

       
Wool!

       
The mask!

       
Oh, thank God!

       
Snatching at it, she yanked it to herself, snagging it on a bramble in her haste. Wrenching it free, she hugged it to her breast, then rolled it into a tight ball and stuck it deep into her pocket. Forcing herself to stand on legs that felt like liquefied jelly, she pushed her way out of the bushes, then, with a quick prayer of eternal gratitude for the deserted road, hopped over the fence and headed for home. Willing herself invisible, she rammed her hands deep into her pockets, keeping a tight grip on the mask, afraid that it might somehow escape her if she let it go for even a second.

       
Every quaking step was torture. She felt exposed. Vulnerable. Afraid that if anyone saw her they’d be sure to remember when the police started asking questions.

       
Her heart thundered in her ears as another car turned onto the road. Quickening her step, she only just managed not to break into a guilty run as it came closer, but when it was just yards away, a bubble of panic rose into her throat. She was going to scream.

       
Suddenly, the car began to slow, then it was pulling in to the kerb alongside her, and she could hear the squeak of a window going down.

       
‘Suzie?’

       
Her heart stopped, her brain refusing to recognize the voice.

       
‘Suzie,’ it said again. ‘What on earth are you doing, girl? Get in. You can’t be walking around out here at this time of night – you’ll get attacked!’

       
It was Wendy.

       
Gasping for breath, Suzie turned, wide-eyed as a rabbit caught in headlights. When Wendy leaned across and pushed open the passenger door, she fell onto the seat with a whimper.

       
‘What’s going on?’ demanded Wendy, crunching the gears as she eased away from the kerb.

       
Suzie panicked. Mal would go ballistic if she told Wendy, but she was waiting for an answer, and she wasn’t an easy woman to ignore.

       
‘I . . . I just needed a w-walk,’ she said at last, stuttering out her lie. ‘Anyway, what are you doing back up here? I thought you said you were going to bed?’