Storm and Stone (6 page)

The Nigerian grinned back, put at ease by Joe’s joke. ‘I find it hard to live that down, I can tell you. My mother’s a nurse—how’s that?’

‘Now you can hold your head up with pride.’ Joe turned to Raven. ‘See, he’s a good guy really.’

‘I knew that already. Hey, Adewale—did you have a good holiday?’ asked Raven.

‘Not bad, thanks. I don’t suppose my watch turned up over the break, did it? Your granddad said he’d look.’

‘He didn’t mention it so I guess not. Sorry.’

‘I’ll have to tell Dad then and get him to contact the insurers. He won’t be pleased. It was a Cartier. Looks like it was stolen rather than just lost.’

‘That’s rough.’ Joe grimaced in sympathy. ‘I’d better keep my Rolex locked up if there’s a thief here.’

The teacher called their attention to the white board where she was running through a movie version of their set text,
Le Malade Imaginaire
. Raven began to take notes but she couldn’t forget the conversation she had overheard. Joe’s dad in prison? Really? And how did he end up with a British godfather paying for his education? And what about Kieran’s parents? Were they also in trouble? Was that what brought the boys together? She could hardly ask as Joe hadn’t been talking to her. That’d be rude.

‘It’s OK,’ Joe said in a low voice.

‘What do you mean?’

He put a body and tail on his cat, and then started on an owl. ‘I know you heard what I said. I’ve not got a problem with it. What my parents have done is nothing to me now. And my godfather’s really great.’

‘When does he get out?’

‘Dad?’

She nodded.

‘Never, I hope.’

That meant he’d done something very bad. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It was good that he was caught. I owe NYPD my life.’

New York Police Department.
‘I’m still sorry—has to be tough.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And your godfather—does he make a point of helping boys with no parents to support them?’

Joe gave the owl a miserable expression. Was that a beatbox he was perching on? ‘Sometimes, yeah. That’s how he found me. But he’s also a good friend of Kieran’s family.’

‘Kieran’s family?’

‘Oh yeah. I’ve met them. Grand house, classy ancestors– they’ve got the full English upper crust vibe going on. Kieran can’t bear it. He thinks you should get by on brain power and refuses to use his background to get ahead.’

‘Wow, does he have a title?’

‘Let’s just say, his parents are welcome in the Ascot Royal Enclosure any time, but if you mention it, he’d hit you with one of his demolition jobs on the class system of this country and freeze you out of his life for all eternity.’

Raven didn’t quite get Kieran’s attitude as she thought that, if she had a posh family, she’d be tempted to make the most of it. ‘OK, got it.’

Joe drew a circle round the owl then made it into a moat. ‘Funny thing is, he’s more ashamed of his privilege than I am of my tough start in life.’

‘Are you two quite finished?’ asked Mrs Gordenstone, the teacher, flapping a copy of the play in front of them. ‘Or shall I put this class on pause while you get better acquainted?’

‘I apologize,’ Joe bathed the teacher in one of his smiles. Her prickly posture relaxed a little. ‘Raven was just helping me catch up.’

‘That’s all very well, Mr Masters, but now is the time to concentrate on today’s lesson.’

‘
Bien sûr, madame
.’

Reprimand skilfully diverted, Joe settled back in his seat. He checked his watch.

‘Late for a hot date?’ teased Raven when he checked it again a minute later.

‘But, sugar, I ain’t asked you yet.’

Raven laughed at his hickabilly tone.

‘I’m just expecting a phone call,’ Joe explained. ‘I’m gonna have to cut class early. Cover for me?’

‘And say what?’

‘I’ve come down with an imaginary illness?’

‘Yeah, like that’d work in this class seeing what we’re studying.’

‘Migraine. Migraine is a good one. Impossible to disprove.’

‘Expert at this, are you? OK, I’ll cover for you.’

Joe slid his books back in his bag and left his seat, making his excuses to the teacher with a very convincing act. He was out of the class two minutes before twelve.

For a couple of newcomers, supposedly good at all their subjects, Kieran and Joe weren’t that interested in taking their classes. Come to think of it, they were here because they had got themselves expelled from their last school. Looked like they might be on the same track.

Isaac’s face came on screen in the Skype box. Brush cut blond hair and laser blue eyes, he had the look of a man who had been round the block a few times, but at a hundred miles an hour, tyres screaming, before taking down a few scumbags.

‘Hey, guys, how’s it going?’ Isaac was fiercely protective of his trainees. If they messed up, he would shout at them, then take the rap. There was not a hint of a politician about him: the buck stopped with him every time.

‘Good, thanks, Isaac.’ Joe took a seat in front of the monitor, first moving a Venus flytrap off the chair. Kieran quickly transferred it to a similar spot so the results wouldn’t be ruined. ‘Key’s turned up something weird—students here are disappearing during the school term with no explanation, and there’s a link to the parents we’re investigating.’

‘More than a link—the correlation is ninety-five per cent,’ added Kieran. ‘The one aberration was a case of meningitis so I think that’s a genuine exception.’

‘Latest is a girl called Gina Carr; dad is in the American embassy in London. Key’s done a report. We’d like you to put a tail on Carr—see if he starts acting against his country’s interests.’

‘Yes, I’ll do that and I look forward to reading the report. Good work. I guess you are exploring the obvious explanations for this—blackmail and the rest?’

‘Of course, but nothing is clicking just yet,’ admitted Joe.

‘Early days. You’ve made more progress than I expected.’ Isaac’s eyes lifted to the left of Joe to fix on Kieran standing behind his chair. ‘How’s it going?’ Isaac knew that, like most Owls, Kieran did not suffer fools gladly and was less adept at slotting in to a new environment than Joe.

‘I’m doing fine, sir.’ Kieran decided not to rat on his mate about the dance thing. ‘Got one more lead handed us—we were given Gina Carr’s number, the girl who has gone missing over Easter. I fed the details in to our tracking programme and the phone is reading as being pretty much on our doorstep, at that fancy annex owned by the Union of International Schools.’

Isaac drummed his fingers on his desk. ‘You mean the manor?’

‘Yes. They call it a sport and leisure facility to house students who don’t want to go home during vacations when the school is closed.’

‘Interesting. That place needs a closer look.’

‘It’s supposed to be off-limits to us during term time as they use it for conferences, due to open again in the summer to run courses for the students. It’s about five miles from here—the other side of the farm that also belongs to the UIS. The website suggests it is more like an exclusive hotel spa than a school camp. I’ve looked at satellite imagery and it seems to be all leisure-related—pools, golf course, tennis courts—nothing to spark suspicion. Very luxurious.’

‘Yeah, we can’t expect the little darlings of the rich and privileged to rough it in their playtime,’ drawled Joe.

‘Gina might’ve left her phone behind for some reason but maybe she’s still there. She could, of course, be ill or having an exam meltdown—nothing to do with the case we’re investigating. But even if that’s true, the school knows what’s up and is hiding the truth from everyone here, including her best friend.’ Kieran kept Raven’s name back on purpose, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. Some instinct to keep her out of this.

Isaac frowned, extra lines appearing on his forehead and bracketing his mouth. ‘OK, I’ll send in a team to see if they can discover anything. People employed at the manor must know more about what goes on there. If the girl’s still on site, there’ll be staff aware of the fact.’

‘I think, sir, Joe and I should put in an application to go to the manor at the end of this term with the other students who spend their holidays there. We can pull out if it’s a dead end but I’m interested to get a look inside myself.’

Isaac chewed that over for a moment. ‘OK. Do it. Fact-finding only though, Kieran.’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘I’ll add our names to the list.’ Joe made a note. ‘Is there anything else for us?’

‘Not at this stage. Just keep out of trouble; don’t do anything to raise suspicions about your interest in the parents we’ve identified.’ Isaac rubbed the bend in his nose—sign of an old break. ‘And don’t take risks. I’ve other guys I’ve trained for that.’

‘Sure.’ Joe grinned, giving the Cheshire Cat a run for his money. ‘Cats and Owls are supposed to stick to evidence collection.’

‘That’s right. OK, back to the grindstone. I’ll check in again soon.’

‘Over and out.’ Joe cut the connection. ‘Do you think he was pleased with our progress?’

‘Hard to say with Isaac. He’s quicker to say when things are off track.’

Joe closed down the computer. ‘I meant to tell you: Raven was lapping up the information on our background I gave her. Obviously she wants to get even after your little party trick on the first evening.’

‘It is not a trick; it’s deduction.’

‘Whatever. She was the one to introduce your name into the conversation about families.’

Kieran went cold. ‘What did you tell her?’

‘Usual cover story.’ Joe flipped a ball of paper into the bin. ‘Nothing touching on the truth.’

That was OK then. ‘You didn’t embroider, did you?’ Joe was liable to get too much in to his cover stories.

‘Only a little. I kept it vague. Said you were upper class. Parents good friends with royalty.’

Kieran groaned. ‘Did you have to do that to me?’

‘She wouldn’t believe the truth and it fits. You are the most aristocratic poor boy I’ve ever met.’

‘False advertising and you know it. So what about you?’

‘I tuned up my story a little after our last job—this time I hinted my dad was a murderer and my mom a druggie.’

‘Joe, Isaac will kill you if he gets wind of that.’ Kieran loved Joe’s parents, two of the nicest people on the planet. They had unofficially adopted Kieran as a son when they discovered his own were such bad news. ‘Why are you taking risks with our cover?’

Joe looked a bit sheepish. ‘I like watching their reactions, see if I can sell them the story.’

Kieran shook his head. Joe enjoyed the role playing on missions and if he had one weakness it was to indulge his imagination too much.

‘Look, Key, I tell people what I think they want to hear; they believe it quicker that way. Having a dad in prison fits the media image of African American youth.’

Too late to pull Joe back now—the stories were out and doing the rounds. ‘OK, it’s done. Let’s move on.’

‘What’s next, Key?’

Kieran picked up a DVD. ‘Thanks to you, I’m going to study this. You go sweet talk that red-haired girl—that should be punishment enough for doing this to me.’ He waved the dance movie at his friend.

‘OK, off to do penance over the lunch table. See you later.’

At the end of the week, and after a vivid nightmare where she dreamt Gina and Kieran were dancing the foxtrot in the cemetery where her parents were buried, Raven had to take action.

‘You’re through to the American Embassy. How can I help you?’

‘Oh, hello. May I speak to Mr Carr? The military attaché.’ Raven felt awkward asking. She had the impression, from the few times they had met, that Mr Carr did not approve of her. Even so, she was risking it as Kieran had assured her that her text to Gina had received no answer.

‘Who’s calling, please?’

‘My name’s Raven Stone. I’m a friend of his daughter, Gina.’

‘I’ll see if he is available to take your call, Miss Stone.’

Raven twiddled the cord of the pay phone in the school lobby as hold music tinkled down the line. The flex slithered through her fingers. She had a row of twenty pence pieces on the ledge but this call was eating them like a gannet swallowing silver fish.
Come on, come on.
She fed another into the slot. ‘
Summertime and the living is easy
,’ sang Ella Fitzgerald in a tinny voice. No, it wasn’t—not with your best friend still missing and a week of school already over.

‘Thank you for holding, Miss Stone. I’m afraid Mr Carr is unable to take your call at this time but if you would like to leave a message, I’ll make sure he gets it.’

‘OK, thanks. Can you tell him that Raven called and wanted to know if Gina was all right. She’s not come back to school and I’m worried about her.’

‘Do you have a number where he can contact you?’

‘Could he leave a message for me on the school’s main line?’ Raven read off the number.

‘Got it.’ The receptionist read it back to her. ‘Can I help you with anything else?’

Sorting out her life? Solving her money problems? ‘No, thank you.’

‘You have a nice day now.’

Unlikely. ‘Thanks.’ Raven put the phone back on the hook and heard the money tumble into the machine. No change in the slot for her to claim. The call had cost her over three pounds thanks to being on hold for so long.