“The H?”
“Yeah—you know. Water is H2O. Tim has to make sure there’s enough H. He works for the Thames Water Authority.”
“Okay.” Ma Powers shook her head slowly. “Maybe that explains why he’s such a drip.”
The ice had been broken—or at least, the water. Nails laid the table and we sat down to a breakfast of bacon sandwiches, strong coffee, shredded wheat, and grapefruit yogurt. The last two had been suggested by Ma Powers. Without the machine gun she was just like anyone’s mother. I think I preferred her with it.
“Ya don’t look so good, Johnny boy,” she said. “Did ya eat proper food in prison?”
“Sure, Ma . . .”
“Plenny of fruit? Here—have some grapefruit yogurt.”
“I’m okay, Ma . . .”
“Do ya want Mummy to get ya some sugar?”
“Ma . . .”
“Yogurt’s good for you, Johnny,” Nails chipped in, spooning out some of his own.
He should have kept his mouth shut. Johnny suddenly picked up his plastic container and slammed it into Nathan’s face, crumpling it against his cheek. Grapefruit yogurt dripped over his chin and onto his shirt. Ma Powers raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Tim sighed and reached for the shredded wheat. He wasn’t looking too good. I guess his nerves were pretty shredded, too.
But at least Johnny cheered up a few minutes later when he finished his coffee and turned on the television. Breakfast TV had just started and the first thing he saw was his own face, a police mug shot taken a few months before.
“. . . a daring escape from Strangeday Hall late last night. Powers, who was serving fifteen years for armed robbery, is described by the police as unpredictable and extremely dangerous. The public is warned not to approach him.”
The picture flickered off to be replaced by the newscaster. He was looking out of the screen with tired eyes, trying not to yawn.
“Accompanying Powers in the breakout was a thirteen-year-old known as Nicholas Diamond . . .”
And there I was suddenly on TV. It was the same photograph that had appeared in all the newspapers. Young, innocent, smiling . . . you couldn’t believe all the things the newscaster was saying about me.
“Diamond, arrested only a month ago following the brutal Woburn Carbuncle robbery, is described as violent and ruthless. In fact, if Johnny Powers is Public Enemy Number One, Diamond must now be considered Public Enemy Number Two.
“Police are still looking for Tim Diamond, Nicholas’s elder brother, who may be able to help them with their inquiries.”
Johnny switched off the set.
“They’re looking for me!” Tim moaned. He was staring at the blank screen as if the newscaster was about to climb out and grab him.
“Of course they’re looking for ya.” Johnny grinned at me. “Public Enemy Number Two! Ya moved up in the charts pretty quick—eh, kid?”
“Yeah.” I tried to look delighted. It wasn’t easy. “What happens next, Johnny?”
“Right now ya get some sleep. I reckon we could all do with some shut-eye. Isn’t that right, Ma?”
“That’s right, Johnny boy.”
“Meantime, Nails can go out and get the rest of the boys together. I’ll see them at four. So, Nails . . . ya better get a box of cupcakes or something.”
“Sure thing, Johnny.”
“Good.” Johnny patted me on the shoulder. “Public Enemy Number Two? I like that, kid. It suits ya.”
At last Tim and I were alone.
We were sharing a bedroom on the second floor. It was about as comfortable as the living room. There were two single beds leaning unsteadily toward each other, a chair with three legs, and a wardrobe minus the door. The window looked out onto a construction site behind the house, only there was so much dirt on the glass you could barely see anything.
For a long time neither of us said anything. Tim looked exhausted. His face was streaked with dust and his hair was standing on end.
“How could you do it, Nick?” he said at last. “My own brother! First the robbery . . . and then this. I mean . . . this Johnny Flowers. He’s insanely criminal. I mean, he’s criminally insane. And his mother! How could you do it? I’m wanted by the police! When they find me it’ll be the end. They’ll lock me up. I’ll never find the Purple Peacock. I won’t ever get another job. They’ll probably give me twenty years, Nick. Twenty years! That’s not to be sneezed at . . .” He pounded his fist into the pillow. Dust rose in a cloud and he sneezed loudly.
“Listen,” I said. “I didn’t do it, Tim. I never stole the carbuncle.”
“But, Nick. The judge—”
“I was framed, Tim. I didn’t know it at the time—although maybe I should have guessed . . .”
Slowly I explained everything that had happened. The visit from Snape and Boyle, the Fence, Woburn Abbey, Johnny Powers. Then I explained it again using words with fewer syllables. It took me about twenty minutes and all the time Tim sat there, grasping the mattress.
I wasn’t sure he’d grasped anything else. But when I finally stopped he stared at me and scratched his head.
“You mean . . . you didn’t do it?” he said.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Tim.”
“And the only people who know are Snape and Boyle? But Snape and Boyle . . .”
“Yeah. They bought it.”
“They bought the carbuncle?”
“No. They crashed. They’re dead.”
“So what do we do now?”
I stood up and went over to the door. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I suppose the only thing we can do is try to track down this Fence that everyone wants. If the police ever catch up with us, it might be something to bargain with. But in the meantime . . .” I swung around on Tim. “You’ve got to convince Johnny and Ma Powers that you’re a real crook. If they ever find out you’re a private eye, it’ll be curtains for us.”
Tim glanced at the window “This place could do with some curtains,” he said.
“They’ll kill us, Tim! I mean
Tim got to his feet and straightened his shoulders, drawing his hands across his chest. He gave me an ugly sneer and threw back his head. “I’m Al Capone,” he growled.
“Al Ka-seltzer more like,” I muttered, but I don’t think he heard me.
I left him there and went into the bathroom. I meant to wash up before I turned in. And that was where I had my first big break of the day. I’d turned on the tap and watched it cough out a trickle of brown sludge when I heard a door open underneath me. Quickly I turned it off again. I’ve mentioned that you could see the bath from the living room through a hole in the ceiling. Well, the same hole allowed me to eavesdrop on a conversation between Ma Powers and her son. And they thought they were alone.
“Your headache gone, Johnny boy?” she was saying.
“Yeah, Ma. Ya made it better for me.”
“Ya gonna be okay when the gang gets here?”
“I’m gonna be just fine.”
“Ya gotta show them who’s boss around here, Johnny boy. With Big Ed trying to move in on you—”
“I got plans for Big Ed, Ma.”
I knelt down and peeped through the hole. From that angle I could just make out the back of Johnny’s head. Ma Powers was somewhere out of my vision. That was just as well. If I couldn’t see her, she couldn’t see me.
“First we’re gonna do a raid,” Johnny went on. “Something really big . . . ya know, to put myself back on the map. Maybe the Bank of England or the Crown Jewels. I don’t know. Then I’m gonna go gunning for Big Ed.”
