Sabotage (9 page)

Old Joe came home the next day. The nurses tried to persuade him to stay in a bit longer, but he refused. ‘Goodness knows what damage will be done to my home if I’m not there,’ he said to Gran as she gave him a lift home. Max and I were sitting in the back. We’d begged to come along. ‘Besides, I’ve got some papers to sign this afternoon.’

‘You’re not really going to sell your cottage, are you?’ I asked him as we pulled up outside. ‘Look how beautiful it is.’

‘There’s a time to make a stand and a time to give in, Amy,’ he said. ‘And my health and peace of mind are more important than bricks and mortar.’

Gran insisted on helping Joe into the house – he had to keep the weight off his foot, so was hobbling around on crutches. Then she made him a cup of tea and a plate of toast.

‘Now you think long and hard before you sign this cottage away,’ she told him. ‘Don’t make any decisions you might regret.’

‘I’ve done nothing
but
think about it. All I have to decide is who I want to sell it to.’

‘Please don’t sell,’ Max begged. ‘We think we know who’s responsible for causing you this stress.’

We? I shot Max a stern look. As far as I knew, he had no idea.

‘I’ve got no choice, lad. I can’t pay for the repairs,’ he sighed. ‘No, my mind’s made up.’

‘Don’t do anything just yet,’ I begged him. ‘Just give me a few hours.’

‘Mr Dawson and Mr Smythe are both coming at two. I’ll have my decision made by then,’ Old Joe told me. ‘It’s kind of you to want to help, Amy, but there’s nothing you can do.’

I thought about it on the way back in the car. If Mr Dawson and Mr Smythe were going to be at Old Joe’s this afternoon, I had to persuade Mrs Langham and Skinhead to join them. Then, I’m sure I could trick the culprit into revealing themselves.

I put the first part of my plan into action by telling Mrs Langham that Joe had some more information for her article, and he wanted her to go round at two.

Then I sent a text to Max – he’d gone home for lunch – to ask him if he knew where Skinhead lived. He replied to say that he was on his way round. A few minutes later he was tramping up the stairs.

‘What are you up to?’ he asked.

‘Time is running out, Max. I’ve got to prove who’s been damaging Joe’s house before he signs it over this afternoon.’

‘How are you going to manage that?’ Max asked.

‘I’m going to see Skinhead.’ I picked up my recorder and shoved it in my pocket. ‘See you at Old Joe’s at two.’

‘Hang on, I’m coming with you.’

‘No you’re not. Not this time. You’re just a kid and it might be dangerous.’

‘You can’t stop me. Anyway, you don’t know where Skinhead lives.’

Good point.

‘Okay, you can come, but you do what I say, and if I tell you to wait, you wait,’ I told him. ‘Now let’s get going, but not too fast. I’ve got no front brakes on my bike, remember?’

Skinhead lived in a flat on the other side of town. It was a bit rough there. Some of the windows were boarded up with wood, and old cars were parked along the streets. It really didn’t look like a nice area to live in.

‘Well, if it isn’t Yankee Doodle and Ginger!’

It was Skinhead. He was rattling a stick against some metal railings across the road, and for once he didn’t have his cronies with him. I slipped my hand into my pocket and switched on the recorder. He walked over to us, dragging the stick along the ground behind him.

‘Slumming it a bit, aren’t you?’ he jeered. ‘What you doin’ round here?’

‘Wait there and don’t move,’ I told Max. I cycled right up to Skinhead and looked him straight in the eye.

‘Looking for you,’ I said.

He shrugged. ‘So, you found me.’ He nodded at the bike. ‘Still riding the old boneshaker then? Takin’ a bit of a risk without brakes, aren’t you?’

He was probably a couple of years older than me, and looked scary with his close-cropped hair and a ring through his eyebrow, but I wasn’t about to let myself be intimidated by him. Even if he was wielding a big stick.

‘I came to warn you to leave Old Joe alone. He’s been in hospital because of you.’

‘Me!’ Skinhead swaggered menacingly closer. ‘You’d better watch yourself chucking about accusations like that.’

‘Ooh, I’m scared!’ I mocked, holding out my arms and making them tremble. ‘Look at me shake.’

‘Look, I don’t usually hit girls, but if you carry on like that, I’ll …’

‘You’ll what? Damage my gran’s house, just like you damaged Old Joe’s place? Make her have an accident too?’

‘I never touched those stairs,’ Skinhead retorted, and you can’t prove that I did!’

‘But I never mentioned the stairs,’ I said.

Skinhead looked a bit flustered. ‘Look, what’s the big deal? The old guy’s been made a good offer for his cottage, and he should take it … give some other people the chance to live in a nice house.’

‘People like you, you mean?’

Skinhead scowled. ‘What you gettin’ at?’

‘I know all about it,’ I told him. ‘I know Mr Dawson’s your uncle and I know that he’s promised your mum a cheap house on the new estate he plans to build on Old Joe’s land. That’s why you’ve been vandalising Joe’s cottage, to scare him into selling.’

‘So what? You can’t prove it!’

Suddenly the recorder in my pocket gave a little click, then a whirr. Drat! The tape had finished and it was starting to rewind. I sneaked my hand into my pocket to stop it.

‘What was that?’ Skinhead asked. He scowled. ‘Are you taping me?’

‘Get outta here, quick!’ I yelled over my shoulder to a terrified Max.

I shot away on my bike, but Skinhead was ready for me. As I zoomed past, he jammed the stick in between the spokes on the front wheel of my bike and I went crashing over the handlebars (again!). I rolled up into a ball to deaden my fall as I hit the pavement, but it still hurt like mad. I groaned, got to my knees and crawled over to my bike. The front wheel was completely bent. There was no way I could ride it anywhere. Skinhead whooped triumphantly and ran towards me, brandishing the stick. As he got closer, I managed to find the strength to aim a kick at his stomach, which sent him flying backwards. I scrambled to my feet. I had to run. And fast.

Max came to my rescue. ‘Jump on!’ he screamed, riding up to me. I jumped on the back of his bike just as Skinhead got to his feet and started to chase us. Max pedalled as if his life depended on it, leaving Skinhead screaming behind us.

‘Do you want me to pedal?’ I shouted when we were a safe distance away. Max was younger and smaller than me and I felt a bit guilty leaving him to do all the hard work. Plus, it didn’t look good for me to be sitting on the back of a kid’s bike.

‘No, I can manage,’ he puffed.

I looked at my watch. ‘We’ve got half an hour to get to Old Joe’s. He’s signing the contract to sell the cottage at two.’

‘Okay, I guess you can pedal faster,’ Max agreed. So we swapped places.

Two cars were parked outside Joe’s cottage: a black BMW and Mr Smythe’s car. Max and I went around the back of the house, leaving the bike by the back door.

‘It’s us, Joe!’ I shouted as we opened the door.

‘In the lounge,’ he called.

We went through. Mr Dawson, Mrs Langham and her son were all squashed on the sofa, with Joe on one chair opposite them and Mr Smythe on another. ‘You haven’t signed the contract yet, have you?’ I asked, worriedly.

‘I’m just about to, Amy,’ he said. ‘I’m still not sure that I’m doing the right thing, but I’ve decided to let Mr Dawson buy the place.’

‘You can’t! It’s his nephew, Skinhead, who has been damaging your cottage. He wanted to make you sell up because Mr Dawson has promised to give Skinhead’s mom one of the new houses at a really cheap price.’

Mr Dawson rose to his feet. ‘You can’t go around making accusations like that, young lady.’

‘I can prove it.’ I took the recorder out of my pocket, pressed the rewind button, then replayed the conversation I’d had with Skinhead, where he’d admitted everything.

Mr Dawson looked both embarrassed and furious. ‘I can only apologise, Mr Whittington,’ he said. ‘I can assure you that Terence acted without my knowledge. I hope that this doesn’t change your decision about the sale. We’re making a very good offer.’

‘So are we,’ said Mr Smythe. ‘And you will be contributing towards preserving history. Underneath this land lies an ancient Roman settlement.’

‘That’s not true,’ Max said. ‘The bracelet was lost by Joe’s grandmother, and a ring too. His grandfather collected Roman artefacts and his grandmother couldn’t resist trying on some of the jewellery,’ he grinned at Joe. ‘It’s all in the diaries. Your grandad was mad about losing them.’

Mr Smythe looked annoyed. ‘What a waste of time. Do you realise how much this has cost me? The time and money I’ve spent?’

‘You don’t need to sell, Joe. Now you have the bracelet back, you can sell it to pay for the repairs,’ I told him.

‘What?’ Mr Smythe reached into his pocket, pulled out the velvet pouch and nearly had a fit when he saw it was empty. ‘How?’

‘Have you lost something?’ I asked innocently.

‘Why you …’ Mr Smythe stood up and made a menacing step towards me, but Mrs Langham stepped in front of him.

‘It seems to me that you’ve both been trying to intimidate my father, to make him sell his beloved home for your own selfish gain. I’ll thank you to go now and leave him in peace. He had a nasty fall yesterday and needs time to recover.’

‘Your father?’ Mr Dawson and Mr Smythe said in unison.

Old Joe just stared at her in silence.

‘That’s right.’ She walked over to the door. ‘Goodbye, gentlemen.’

I figured that now was a good time for Max and I to leave as well. Old Joe, Mrs Langham and Ritchie had a lot of talking to do.

‘How did you know it was Skinhead?’ Max asked as we wandered home. ‘I thought it had to be Mr Smythe or Mr Dawson.’

‘It was easy, he gave himself away,’ I told him.

PODCAST 5

Go to
www.amycartermysteries.com/sabotage-5

When we got home, we told Gran everything that had happened. ‘You know, I thought Mrs Langham’s lad looked like Old Joe,’ she said. ‘How lovely that he’s got a family at last. And fancy that young Terence causing all that damage to Old Joe’s cottage. PC Lambard will make sure he gets his comeuppance, you’ll see.’

We went back to collect Grandad’s bike, but it had gone. Stolen for spare parts, I guess. I was a bit sad. It was a rickety old thing, but at least it had got me around. Now I’d have to walk everywhere.

When Mrs Langham came back, she told us that she’d only found out that Joe was her father a couple of months ago when her mother died and she was sorting out her things. ‘It was a bit of a shock. I always thought my stepdad was my real father,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I decided to look Joe up to find out why he deserted us. Writing an article about his family seemed like a good excuse to ask all the questions I wanted. It turns out he was in the army overseas and never got Mum’s letters.’ She added that Mr Dawson had insisted on paying for the damage that Skinhead had inflicted on the cottage, so, in short, Old Joe wasn’t selling up.

‘Ritchie is staying with Joe while I pack, then we’re taking Joe home with us for a few days so that he can rest while the repairs are being done,’ she said. ‘It will give us time to get to know each other.’

A couple of days later there was a knock on the door. It was a man delivering a bike. A fantastic, top-of-the-range red racing bike. There was a note with it from Old Joe saying it was a thank you for my help. He told me that the autumn scene painting in his attic was an original and worth a very nice sum. With the proceeds from that and the bracelet, he had a bit of a nest egg to redecorate the cottage.

Then Max came round with a big grin on his face. ‘Look what Joe gave me,’ he said, holding out a silver cellphone. ‘It’s just like yours; it takes photos and plays music and everything.’ He looked at the bike. ‘Wow! Now that’s what I call a bike!’

‘Me too!’ I grinned. ‘Come on, let’s go for a ride.’

THE END

Karen King began her writing career with the teenage magazine
Jackie
, and spent many years writing for various children’s magazines, including
Winnie the Pooh
,
Rosie and Jim
and Nursery Education
, before concentrating solely on writing books. With over one hundred children’s books published, Karen writes both fiction and non-fiction titles for children from pre-school to teens. Karen’s published work includes
Foul Play, Cosmic Whizz Kid, Space Chase on Planet Zog
and
The Gold Badge
. Her picture book
I Don't Eat Toothpaste Anymore
won the Gold Award for Best Product, and her book entitled
The Birthday Surprise
won the Practical Parenting Award.

If you enjoyed
Sabotage
, read the first Amy Carter mystery,
Dognapped!

When prize-winning pooch Fluffy vanishes from the garden of Beachview B&B, it’s down to super-sleuth Amy Carter to get her Gran’s precious dog back. Join the hunt by downloading podcasts to reveal key clues as the case unfolds.

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