Finders Keepers

by dew or rain. Inside the coal bunker, behind the bins, under the wigwams of beans that he and Uncle Jude planted each spring. He even took a careful garden fork to the compost heap, just in case Davey had buried it there among the dirt and weeds and potato peelings. He’d kill him if he had. The skateboard had Bones Swiss bearings and had cost him ?95 – and he only earned twelve quid a week.

Nothing.

‘Little shit!’ he shouted, and didn’t even say sorry to Mr Randall when his head popped up over the garden fence.

Steven ran back through the house, yelling for his brother.

‘What’s wrong?’ shouted his mother from upstairs. ‘He’s at Shane’s house!’

Steven knew that wasn’t true.

He slammed the front door behind him.

Davey saw Steven coming at the exact same moment that Shane managed to perform his first turn at the lip of the ramp without falling.

‘Yes!’ shouted Shane, with his fists in the air, and promptly fell off.

‘Shit!’ said Davey and jumped off the swing before it had stopped, giving himself a running start across the football field.

Just as he’d suspected, Steven was faster. And worse than that, Steven was angry. Angrier than Davey had ever seen him. Shane shouted something from behind him, but he didn’t know what. Davey had never been scared of Steven, but all that changed in an instant. For the first time in his short life, Davey experienced complete and utter regret. He’d thought he was being so clever. He’d thought he was getting Steven back but good. Now he realized that all he had been doing was signing his own death warrant, and fear speeded him so much that for a brief moment he actually thought he might outrun his brother.

He raced away from the village and towards the stile at the far edge of the field, arms pumping, knees flashing, but twenty yards off, he knew he’d never make it. He threw a desperate look over his shoulder and yelped at how close Steven was.

He stopped and turned – hands out defensively.

‘I’m sorry!’ he yelled. ‘Don’t hit me!’

Steven ran right through him, knocking him backwards straight off his feet, and landing on top of him with a force that made Davey howl.

‘Where is it?! Where is it, you little shit?’ He drew back his clenched fist.

Davey covered his face with raised arms. ‘Don’t hurt me, Stevie! I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!’

Steven hesitated, straddling his brother’s chest.

‘Where is it?’ he yelled again.

‘In the river!’ shouted a panicky Shane from beside them. ‘It’s in the river!’

‘Fuck!’ Steven got to his feet, dragging Davey up with him by the front of his T-shirt and one skinny arm. ‘Show me,’ he said, and started to haul his brother towards the stream at the edge of the field.

‘I don’t know, Stevie …’

Steven half pushed, half dragged Davey to the top of the steep, bramble-strewn bank. ‘Show me!’ he demanded again.

They followed the stream – Davey stumbling and twisting in Steven’s grip, trying not to cry.

‘There,’ he pointed.

Through the shallow water, Steven saw the tail of his skateboard sticking out of the mud and was seized with new fury.

‘Go get it!’ he told Davey, and shoved him hard down the bank. Davey tumbled through the thorns and the prickles and skidded into the water with a solid splash.

‘Shit,’ said Shane.

Davey scrambled to his feet, crying now, spluttering and choking as his sobs sucked water close to his lungs. ‘Bastard!’

‘Just get it,’ Steven demanded coldly.

Davey felt about with his hands and feet in the mud. Hitching with sobs and choked by tears, he staggered about and fell over half a dozen times, and finally stood up with the skateboard in his hands. He held it up to Steven like a sacrificial baby. ‘Here!’ he shouted. ‘I hate you!’

‘I hate you too, you spoiled little shit!’

Steven spat at Davey’s upturned face. The gob missed, but even as he did it, Steven felt ashamed. He wiped his mouth and walked away.

Davey hurled the ruined deck at his back. It nearly hit Shane. ‘I wish you were dead! I wish you’d died. I hate you, you big fucking pig!’

Steven said nothing and didn’t look back.

29

I’M JUST PISSING people off, thought Rice. Not just any old people either – she was pissing off the Piper Parents. It was embarrassing.

As agreed with Reynolds, she’d probed John Took and his ex-wife for information about their relationship with their daughter, while she sipped tea on the sofa. Took had suddenly realized what Rice was getting at and blown a fuse.

‘It’s just routine, Mr Took,’ she soothed. ‘We’re asking everybody the same questions.’

‘Why start with me?’

‘I’m going in order,’ she lied swiftly.

‘Fine,’ he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. ‘Let me tell the others they can expect you.’

He dialled a number, while Barbara Took watched them in concern.

‘Look, Mr Took,’ said Rice, trying to sound professional instead of simply annoyed with him, ‘this is an official line of inquiry. I would hope you’d be happy to help if it meant shedding any light on what might have happened to Jess.’

‘No bloody signal,’ muttered Took, and started walking around the room with his phone above his head.

‘Miss Rice,’ said Barbara Took. ‘I absolutely understand why you’re asking these questions, but I can also understand why my h— Why John is so upset by it. Can’t you? I mean, you’re treating us like suspects, when he knows and I know that we both love Jess very much and would never harm her. It’s insulting.’

‘It is,’ shouted Took from the fireplace. ‘Bloody insulting.’

‘I’m not saying either of you harmed her, Mrs Took, I’m just saying that if somebody else thought she was being harmed or neglected, then that might be a motive. And a motive would really help us at this stage.’

‘John, do stop waving that phone around and sit down.’

To Rice’s surprise, John Took did just that. Barbara topped up his tea and offered her a refill too. She’d been trained to accept tea whenever possible in this kind of situation – it established a rapport.

Once they were all sipping from the delicate china, everything seemed better. More civilized. The windows were open, and from somewhere, Rice could hear Rachel say ‘Oh hell!’ and a young man’s voice answer, ‘That’s what happens if you don’t keep your leg on!’

Took made a noise of extreme irritation and muttered, ‘Fucking leg on. I’m paying eighty quid an hour for that pony-club shit.’

Barbara sighed and put down her cup. ‘John, I think we’re agreed that this line of questioning is pointless.’

‘Too bloody right.’

‘But it’s just as clear that Miss Rice needs to ask these questions as part of the investigation.’