Close Range (8 page)

‘Is everyone OK?’ Jake asked. A glass bottle flew over the top and smashed on the artificial turf that lined the tunnel. Suddenly there were hands and feet pounding the other side. Someone appeared at the far end, trying to climb over.

Jake rushed at him, and pushed him back. The man fell with a cry.

‘Get down the tunnel,’ Jake said. ‘Find help.’

The crack of a gunshot brought silence.

Everyone froze. Jake stared at his mother in horror.

She was pale. ‘What happened? Has someone been shot?’

‘It was probably just a warning,’ said Jake, hoping he was right.

He pulled himself up to look over their self-made barrier. Armed security guards were shepherding the protestors into
the centre circle at gunpoint. No one was resisting any more. And there was no sign of anyone badly injured.

Mark Fortune and the other players who’d stayed on the pitch to help were now standing well back on the far side of the pitch with the assistant coach. They’d done a brave thing coming out to stop the protestors.

‘It looks like everything’s calmed down,’ Jake said, sliding back to join his mother and the models.

‘You saved us,’ Abri said, slipping her arm around him.

‘You saved yourselves,’ he replied. ‘I just helped.’ He drummed his hand on the wooden surface of the catwalk. ‘That was quick thinking to turn this over. Stopped them getting behind the stands, wreaking more havoc.’

‘Guess we’re more than just pretty faces,’ Sienna said sarcastically.

Jake heard footsteps pounding down the tunnel. His pulse quickened. Was it more protestors? Then he saw who it was. His dad – moving so fast, he’d forgotten he faked a limp.

‘Jake! Hayley! Are you all right?’ he called, gasping for breath. ‘God, I saw it from the commentary box.’

He wrapped Jake’s mum in his arms and she pressed her head into his chest. After the businesslike kiss at the airport, the sudden show of affection knocked Jake off-balance.

‘It’s lucky Jake was here,’ said Abri. ‘We’d have been caught up in the worst, otherwise.’

His dad nodded gravely at him. The look wasn’t much, but Jake knew what it meant:
You did well.

‘Hay,’ said his dad. ‘You could have been seriously hurt. This has to stop, don’t you think? Time to sit it out.’

Jake’s mother pulled away, disentangling herself. ‘Just because of this?’

Jake’s dad shrugged. ‘It’s risky. These people are serious.’

‘It’ll take more than a few protestors to stop the Granble shoot,’ Jake’s mum said.

His dad tried to reach for her arm. ‘Hay, I care about you –’

She shook him off.

‘I can look after myself, Steve.’

Jake could feel a fight brewing. Did they have to do this in front of Abri?

‘All I’m saying,’ said his dad, ‘is that there’ll be other assignments. Safer ones.’

Jake saw blood rushing to his mum’s face, but she held it together.

‘I’ll be careful,’ she said. ‘I know what I’m doing.’

Jake’s dad looked at the ground, his shoulders sagging.

I guess now’s not the time to mention Olympic Advantage,
Jake thought to himself.

A painful silence descended, until Steve turned round and trudged back up the tunnel. A few moments later, his mum followed.

‘Sorry about that,’ Jake said to Abri. ‘My parents don’t really get on.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘That’s life. It’s worse for you, stuck in the middle.’

You don’t know the half of it,
Jake thought.

J
ake’s mum drove to the church more slowly this time. He thought she must still be in shock.

‘Maybe you should listen to Dad,’ Jake said. ‘Granble can find another photographer, can’t he?’ He rushed to add, ‘Not as good as you, obviously.’

‘Reputation counts for everything in this business, Jake. You quit one job, prove yourself unreliable, no one will hire you again.’

Jake dropped it.

‘Anyway,’ his mum continued, smiling, ‘enough about me. You and Abri seem to be getting on pretty well.’ Jake felt his cheeks redden. ‘And from that blush, I’m guessing you quite like her.’

Jake rolled down the window. ‘I’ll do you a deal, Mum. I won’t mention Granble, if you don’t mention Abri.’

‘Sounds fair,’ she said, laughing to herself. ‘But what
shall we talk about?’

This is my chance,
Jake thought.

He fished Randy Freemore’s card out of his pocket. ‘Have you heard of Olympic Advantage?’

‘Nope.’

Jake went on to explain how Mr Freemore had been at the San Siro, and had given him the card. ‘It’s like a camp for athletes of the future, in Florida. Really intensive – they teach you everything.’ Jake was getting excited just talking about it. ‘Not just the sport itself, but lifestyle, nutrition, physio …’

‘A football camp?’ interrupted his mum.

‘Yes, sort of, but so much more …’

‘In
Florida?’
She said the word like it was the moon, or something. Jake could see from her frown that she didn’t share his enthusiasm.

‘What’s wrong, Mum?’

They’d reached the church and she pulled up outside, killed the engine and looked straight at Jake.

‘I’m not sure I’m happy about you heading so far on your own.’

‘I won’t be on my own. There’ll be other players, from all over the world …’

‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ she said. ‘Football’s big business. Everyone wants a piece of the pie. I’m not
sure I want
you
being that pie, Jake.’

‘Mum, what are you talking about? This is a chance of a lifetime!’

‘Let me talk to your dad about it, eh?’

Oh, so you’ll work together when you’re trying to stop me doing something!

Jake climbed out of the car to let his temper cool. He was afraid of saying something he shouldn’t.

There were a few crushed cigarette butts on the ground by the side door of the church, but no sign of Hector or the other electricians. In their place stood two security guards in polonecks and pale blazers. If they had guns, they were hidden. They eyeballed Jake and his mother as they approached. Jake wondered why they weren’t watching the front door, but he guessed it was probably bolted shut. One way in, one way out. Easy to guard.

They were waved inside.

Jake was immediately disappointed: no sign of Abri or the other models. Jake couldn’t see Granble anywhere, but there were plenty of his lackeys rushing around, and his chief goon, Jaap, stood motionless, still handcuffed to the briefcase.

One hundred million dollars worth of diamonds was a lot to lose.

‘Let’s get started, shall we?’ said his mum. Jake hung back out of the way, while she unpacked her camera and rearranged the supplementary lighting and screens near the altar. Jaap came forwards with the case, fiddled with the code and clicked it open. Jake, along with everyone else, found himself stepping closer to see.

Marissa stepped forwards, and took off what looked like a protective cover.

A collective gasp sounded across the sanctuary.

Jake had seen diamonds before, in jewellery shop windows, and on wedding rings, but nothing compared to the contents of the case. These weren’t even rocks – they were
boulders!

The case was lined with black velvet. Laid out against it was a necklace strung from stones the size of Jake’s thumbnail and bracelets made with hundreds of delicate diamonds. Other smaller pieces surrounded a stone as big as Jake’s palm.

He didn’t even know diamonds came that big.

‘Move away, please,’ said Marissa.

As people fell back, she donned a pair of white cloth gloves, like a surgeon about to perform an operation. She took out the necklace and placed it carefully against the black altar cloth.

Slowly the room returned to normal. Jake heard the soft
electrical clicks of his mother’s camera as she took shots from different angles, at one point standing on a pew to get a better vantage. After each position, she’d consult Marissa, who seemed to be ticking things off on a list. They whispered to each other, as though there was a real church service going on.

Jake was soon bored, and the pew was uncomfortable. When would Abri get here? At least then he’d have someone to talk to. His mum was looking at the viewfinder, going back over old shots, while Jake fingered the Olympic Advantage card.

He’d have to make sure he spoke to his dad before his mum had a chance. If anyone would understand what this meant to Jake, it would be his dad. He’d have to stress all the positives – the structured tuition, the responsible coaches, the healthy elements – it was a chance to grow as a person as well as a player blah, blah, blah …

His mum leant closer to the diamonds and took a few more quick shots. Suddenly, Jake was aware of the quickstep of heels on stone behind him.

‘Stop that!’ shouted Marissa. ‘No, no, no!’

Granble’s assistant rushed past Jake with Jaap just behind her, while Jake’s mum straightened up, a look of alarm on her face. ‘What is it?’

Marissa tapped the clipboard and turned it to face his mum.

‘Only the shots on the approved list, remember?’ she shouted. ‘Jaap, delete them.’

The henchman stepped forwards and reached for the camera. Jake’s mum pulled it out of the way. ‘Hey!’

Jake was up in a second and at his mother’s side.

‘You can’t do that!’ he said.

Marissa looked at him with a curl of her lip, then addressed his mum.

‘Miss Maguire, do I need to remind you of my employer’s very strict instructions? There are to be no close-ups of the diamonds under any circumstances. If you cannot stick to the stipulations in the contract – or keep your son under control – I’m sure Mr Granble will see that contract terminated forthwith.’

Jake’s mum relaxed and unlooped the camera strap from her neck. Jaap unceremoniously snatched it from her hand and began deleting the photos. When he handed it back, Jake stepped up to him, nose to nose.

‘You shouldn’t be so rough,’ he said.

Jaap didn’t say anything. His glance flicked to Marissa, and in his peripheral vision Jake saw her give a tiny shake of her head. Jaap backed away.

‘That’s enough, Jake,’ said his mum, putting a hand on
his arm. ‘It was just a misunderstanding. Let’s carry on with the shoot.’

‘Yes, let’s,’ said Marissa, looking pointedly at Jake, ‘but I think we should get rid of any
non-essential
personnel, don’t you?’

‘Honey,’ said his mum, ‘why don’t you see if you can get any further with my broken camera? It’s in the car. You’ve got your laptop now too.’

Jake could hear the note of stress in his mum’s voice. She didn’t need a hero. She had never put up with his dad’s overprotectiveness, either.

‘Sure, Mum,’ said Jake. ‘I could do with some fresh air.’

He went outside, letting his anger cool, and opened the boot. Inside he found the damaged camera and his laptop. Now he needed somewhere to work, away from the glaring eyes of Granble’s goons.

Jake did a quick circuit of the church. He passed the church’s main doors, two tall timber panels with a smaller door cut away. All locked. Around the far side, a narrow alley led to a metal gate that opened back on to the street. Worth a look. Jake went along the alley. Halfway down, and slightly recessed, was another door, hinged with thick iron embossing. It looked like it had been there for as long as the church. The door had been boarded up but the wood
was rotting. One board dangled from a single nail. Jake gave the door a stiff yank and it gave way.

He quickly checked left and right, then went inside. He found himself in a room with a simple table and what looked like the remains of wooden hanging closets, now worm-eaten, lined up side by side. The vestry. He laughed to himself: this was the room where Abri and the others had been changing the other day. He tried not to think about
that
too hard. There was a door back into the main part of the church, and against the opposite wall were a couple of steps leading up to another doorway. Jake crossed quickly and found it was a second entrance to the spiral stairwell, dimly lit through lead-framed windows.

Jake sat on the steps and opened up his laptop, plugging his mum’s camera into the USB socket. He found the files and copied them to his hard drive. Since it would take a few minutes to download, Jake thought he’d quickly check on his mum. He went to peer through into the nave. Hayley was still snapping away. Marissa was close by her, watching like a hawk. Jake finally noticed Granble himself, standing in the shadows to one side at the back.

His laptop gave a muted beep – the files had finished copying. Jake closed the door slowly and went back to his computer. He opened a batch of six photos. They were the
shots his mum had taken at the airport. There was nothing wrong with them, which meant the electronic files were undamaged. Jake skipped past, embarrassed.

Those were some photos I’d have been happy to lose!

Next were the candids of the models in the street. There were some of them buying coffees, laughing at a joke, sitting on the kerbside. Just like three girlfriends out having fun. Well, three impossibly hot girlfriends. Seeing Abri again made Jake’s mouth go a little dry.

There was one shot where she leant against a wall, looking to one side, like she was waiting for someone. Jake couldn’t help but zoom in on her face. Perfect bone structure, almond–shaped eyes, lips slightly parted …

But then something else caught Jake’s eye. Further down the street, in the same shot, Sienna was speaking to someone. A guy, sitting on a moped. He didn’t look like a model. Maybe Sienna wasn’t as icy as she pretended. The pair were almost out of shot, and slightly blurred. If he hadn’t zoomed in, he would have missed them.

There was a noise – a soft
woomf,
and a camera flash came through a crack in the door.

Then a scream cut the air.

J
ake put down the camera quickly and stood up. He heard raised voices. Shouting in Italian, and his mother’s voice, panicked. ‘What’s happening?’

There was another flash, and the same strange noise, like a muffled explosion.