Breaking East by Bob Summer Page B

ever tells me anything and I’m supposed to fend off the Law with their stupid under-occupancy laws and now my dad has allowed Gemma to be taken away by some odd-ball and I don’t know where or why. There’s only me left. And …’
    ‘If your dad sent her, signed her over …’ I trailed off thinking about Stacey. Two weeks, two kids missing, equalled too much of a coincidence.
    He didn’t notice my distraction and scoffed. ‘Means nothing. He doesn’t care about anybody but himself.’
    ‘How do you know it was the guy with the gold tooth who took her?’
    He looked at the horizon and chewed his lip. ‘Because I stole something.’
    In the west, people steal stuff all the time and get away with it; it’s the violence Joe cracks down heavy on. But in the east, the material stuff is cherished and stealing is taken much more seriously. If Stuart had been on the rob, then chances were he was on the run which explained the clambering around fields and the bag of worldly goods over his shoulder.
    ‘Okay,’ I said trying to exude calm, ‘what? What have you stolen and where from?’
    It might have been my incredible people skills but Stuart’s sweating and jittering stopped, or at least eased off. ‘A security DVD from Gemma’s school. And it shows the guy in the suit taking Gemma away. By the hand. Out the gate.’ He gestured a holding hand motion in case I didn’t quite get it.
    ‘And you’re sure it was definitely the same guy from the park?’
    ‘Definitely,’ he said. ‘And when I went back to the school, after watching the footage, he was there again talking to the teachers. And a whole bunch of Reds in their full riot gear to back him up.’
    ‘Because of a DVD? Bit picky, even for easty standards.’
    ‘That’s my point,’ he said like I was some sort of dullard just keeping up. ‘And Gemma’s got none of her stuff with her. No toys, teddies, no clothes, nothing.’ We’d reached the end of the beach and sat on the rocks at the foot of a cliff.
    I didn’t want to freak him out so asked real gentle, ‘Do you think it’s anything to do with your mum?’
    ‘Maybe, yes,’ the same are-you-stupid tone, ‘but Gemma’s six. I’m eighteen. If they were going to try and get info out of anybody it would be me. But even I know nothing. What good is a little kid like Gemma to them?’ He started to get agitated again.
    Softly, softly. ‘Right,’ I said. Let’s go hang around at the school and see if we can catch him again. Maybe we can follow him home or something.’
    ‘I already know where he lives.’
    Wow, full of surprises. ‘Great work. Where?’
    ‘I’ll show you.’
    The walk back through the fields was silent and tense. I tried to lighten the mood by mentioning the trees and the weather and all sorts of happy-chatter nonsense but Stuart wasn’t having any of it so I gave up.
    The house Stuart showed me looked too big for its garden. There were huge windows on all three floors, each blacked out with wooden slatted blinds. Half a dozen steps led up to the shiny, black front door and the whole house looked like it might stand up and walk away any minute. Spooky.
    ‘Let’s come back in the morning, early,’ I said. ‘We can wait until he’s gone out and then break in. There’s bound to be some clues hanging around in there somewhere.’
    ‘Why would you do that?’
    I shrugged and shook my head, wide-eyed innocence. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Why would you do that for me? For Gemma? Why do you care?’
    Good question, Stuart. ‘Just because.’ I clapped my hands. ‘Meanwhile, fancy a drink?’
    ‘Don’t do that.’
    ‘Look. I’ve got nothing better to do.’ He didn’t look convinced. ‘Besides,’ I tried to look cute, ‘I like you.’ He looked even less convinced so I went as close to the truth as I dare. ‘That bloke is a prize nob and he’s been chatting up young girls in parks. He might have taken others, babies, maybe even a baby I know. Not to mention he