Mumbersons and The Blood Secret, The by Mike Crowl, Celia Crowl Page A

locked up. But someone was moving around inside. In the dark.’
    Now it was the jeweller’s turn to go pale. ‘You saw someone? In the shop?’ His hand, which was still holding the box containing the precious diamonds, shook slightly. ‘Ah, good. Thank you for telling me.’
    ‘We thought it might have been a burglar,’ said Billy.
    The man stared at him without speaking for a moment, then finally said, ‘No. No burglaries here. No.’
    He stared vaguely at them a little longer, then suddenly, without a word, bundled them out of the shop. He shut the door behind them, muttering, ‘Good day.’
     
    They looked back, surprised at his unfriendly behaviour. Through the window they saw him pick up the phone. But his hand was shaking and he seemed to be having trouble trying to dial the number. He glanced up, saw them standing outside, dropped the phone on its cradle, and rushed out the back of the shop.
     

Chapter 7 - The reconnaissance
     
    When Mr Mumberson and Billy got home they found Jerry and the next door neighbour, Mr Khafoops, sitting in the kitchen having coffee. Jerry looked very tired. Mrs Mumberson, who’d been baking, was now doing the dishes, and Olivia was drying them, not very successfully. They’d decided not to go to town after all.
     
    Without even greeting Billy, Jerry said to him, ‘I’ve been over to the Factory with Mahid. No one’s ever heard of a security guard called Lavitch. Sure you got his name right?’
     
    ‘Yes,’ said Billy. He slumped in a chair. ‘What was he doing at the Factory if he doesn’t work there?’
     
    Jerry shrugged and ignored his question. ‘The dark-haired woman could have been any one of the Triple W Sisters. They all look pretty much alike. I don’t understand why one of them would do anything to a kid.’
     
    Mr Khafoops nodded in agreement. ‘No. It’s only their staff they treat badly.’
     
    ‘Morning shift cancelled today, I hear.’
     
    ‘Cancelled.’ Mr Khafoops shook his head.
     
    ‘Restructuring,’ said Jerry, as though it was a dirty word.
     
    ‘Restructuring!’ Mr Khafoops pulled his large stomach in and folded his arms across it as best he could.
     
    ‘Middle management are always the first to go.’
     
    Billy interrupted. ‘You must have seen the broken skylight in the Sick Bay, Dad. You must have.’
     
    ‘No broken window, Billy,’ said Mr Khafoops. ‘If there was one, they have repaired it already.’
     
    ‘But I broke it!’ said Olivia, nearly breaking the cup she was drying as well.
     
    Jerry said, ‘They couldn’t fix it overnight, Mahid. Too dark to see what they were doing. Who’d come after hours anyway?’
     
    ‘Perhaps they fixed it this morning?’ said Mahid.
     
    ‘Be lucky to get a tradesman to do it that quickly on a Saturday.’ He shook his head. ‘I know you don’t lie to me usually, Billy.’ Billy noticed his grandfather give him a warning stare. ‘But things don’t add up.’
     
    ‘We have nothing to take to the police,’ said Mr Khafoops.
     
    Mrs Mumberson, still doing the dishes, sniffed. ‘We all know the police won’t believe anything out of the ordinary.’
     
    ‘You have to have evidence,’ said Jerry.
     
    Olivia grabbed the tourniquet off the windowsill. ‘What about this? It’s the thing they tied round Billy’s arm.’
     
    ‘Pretty flimsy evidence, Olivia,’ said Jerry. She frowned severely at him. He paid no attention, and added. ‘You can’t go to the police with nothing.’
     
    ‘A boy’s word is nothing ?’ asked Mrs Mumberson. ‘A boy who never lies?’ She took a plate from the sink and thrust it in the rack hard enough to almost break it in half.
     
    ‘Or a girl’s!’ said Olivia, reaching up to put the cup away, and missing the shelf. Mr Mumberson caught it as it dropped. ‘What’s your plan, Jerry?’ he asked. ‘Leave things lying where they are? Ignore Billy’s story?’
     
    ‘Of course not. But my hands are