‘Ain’t that old timer you need to be worrying about,’ growls the taller of the cops, giving Mikey a hard shove in the back. The kid stumbles.
Rick pays no mind to the comment. Keeps his eyes on Mikey. ‘Remember what I told you.’
The kid nods. Rick watches, squinting into the sun, as the cops take him away. A kid like that, he’s not going to find jail easy. Miss Betty is going to need to use any influence she has to get him out fast.
‘That bloody Golding,’ says Philip. His face is still beetroot red. ‘We can’t let him get away with talking to us like that. So dismissive, like we’re on the scrapheap and incapable of being able to—’
‘Yeah.’ Rick remembers the call to his cell while he’d been cuffed. Taking it from his pocket, he checks the screen: 1 missed call – Moira. Looking up, he sees Philip watching him with an irritated expression on his face. Rick raises the cell phone. ‘I need to make a call.’
As Philip stomps across the yard after Golding, the uniforms and Mikey, Rick presses Moira’s name on his call log and dials her back. He waits as it rings.
He’s just about to end the call when it’s picked up.
‘Rick?’ Moira sounds out of breath. ‘Did you get my message?’
‘No, I . . .’ He looks at the cell phone’s screen, but all it’s showing is that he’s on a call with her now. Had she messaged him? He doesn’t think so. ‘I just saw you’d tried calling so I dialled you back and—’
‘Maybe I didn’t press send, but I thought I . . .’
‘Are you okay?’ Rick asks. There’s something about Moira’s voice that sounds different, frailer somehow, when frail is the last word he’d normally think of to describe her. ‘Did you get the CCTV footage?’
‘Hank got attacked, I . . . didn’t manage to stop them.’
‘Are you hurt?’
‘I’m okay.’
‘You don’t sound okay.’ Rick starts walking back towards the house. ‘You still at the CCTV office?’
‘I called 911, they’ve despatched a car and an ambulance. Hank’s—’
Rick breaks into a run. ‘You safe?’
‘Yes, yes I think so.’ Her voice sounds weaker.
‘Okay, stay where you are. I’m on my way.’ Rick ends the call. He sprints across the yard and into the house. There’s no sign of Philip or Miss Betty. Hurrying through the house to the front, he opens the door. They’re standing out front, on the pathway at the bottom of the porch steps.
Martha and Miss Betty are talking with one of the uniformed cops. Miss Betty is shaking her head vigorously. ‘No, I refuse to allow you to go inside my home, not when you’ve just dragged my grandson out on to the street like a criminal.’
‘Like I said, we’ve got a warrant, ma’am,’ says the cop. ‘So with all due respect, you have to let us do our job.’ He gives the signal to the rest of the officers and they swarm around Miss Betty and up the porch steps.
Rick steps aside to let them pass. They hurry past him, yanking the front door open and disappearing inside the house.
Miss Betty raises her hands to her chest and seems to sag at the knees. Martha, fast as lightning, takes a hold of Miss Betty and helps her stay upright. For a moment the older lady looks as if she might be too much for the young woman, then she recovers her strength and stands again unaided.
She fixes the cop with a steely gaze. ‘Officer, your behaviour here is beyond awful. You’ve taken my grandson, and now you’re violating my property. I’m going to take this up with the commissioner. He’s an old family friend and I’m sure he won’t take kindly to—’