11 The Golden Arcade 8

8
He was staring at the phone when she tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped. He spun around only for her to appear on the other side of him, grinning. 

‘Good work detective,’ she said. She checkd her phone, flicking messages away.

Bart composed himself, took a deep breath.

‘Thanks for meeting me.’

‘That’s okay. Listen. You don’t want to do anything bad to Zack do you? Can I trust you, Bart?’

‘You can trust me. I don’t. Promise.’

She turned to face him.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think  I can.’

‘What did  you say, to Mr. Hasland? So he didn’t call the police?’

She looked back at the screen shifting her weight as she spoke.

‘Just that it could be bad for me if the Police found Raymond. That’s all. I’ve had some dark times, Bart. The people here, they feel protective I suppose.’

He leaned in closer, trying to look at the screen. She put it away.  She looked at him with a change the subject smile.

‘Dark times?’ he said.

‘Not today,’ she said. ‘Another time maybe.’

He froze for a moment, not sure what to say. He fumbled around in his pockets, pulled out the photos. He struggled to get a grip on it. Lift it from the pavement.

'So, how do you know Raymond Feathers?' Bart asked as he stood. 'Does he work here at the school?'

She laughed and her whole face lit up.

'No,' she said. 'Raymond doesn't do work.'

'So what does he do?'

'Now that's the question,' she said. 'I suppose that Raymond's a sort of a sole-trader. That's business studies.' She paused a while. 'Sorry to say this again, but I can trust you can’t I?’

He nodded gravely. Tried to look serious, kind.

'Yes. You can trust me, Lola.'

He pulled a photograph from the stack. It was a selfie, taken on a night out, probably with a stick. There was Zack, Lola, a young looking lad, thin with big eyes like a deer in the headlights. Bart said:

'You know,if you're honest with me, Lola, I will be honest with you. And that’s an absolute promise.'

She looked up at him for a a while, weighing things up. Then she took the picture.

'Okay well, obviously that's me and Zack in the picture. The boy is Torin Malone.’

‘Okay. Can I meet him?’

‘He's dead.'

'I’m sorry -?'

'There was a fire. Casino. Torin worked there. Listen Bart, Torin did dumb things, drug things okay. But he was a lovely boy, Torin. Always smiling. But sensitive. He was beautiful okay.'

She began to well up and it looked genuine. Grief. He touched her on the upper arm, rubbed gently up towards her shoulder. She was holding the tears back. She looked up and forced a smile.

'Anyway,' she continued. ‘Can we just talk about Raymond please?'

He nodded.

'Good.’ She wiped her eye with her fingers and smiled. ‘Well,' she said. 'Listen Zack, he does a bit of dealing, weed mostly. Trust, remember.'

'I know about that already. Trust,’ Bart said. ‘So Raymond is what? A business partner?'

'Yes. I suppose he is. He knows the area really well you see? He stores the stuff and sells it. Listen, I know you saw a violent thug today, but he has actually got a wicked sense of humour. He can be quite sweet really. But, you know, he's not good under pressure. I wonder if whatever's going on with Zack, maybe it's getting to him? I don’t know.'

'Do you know what he found, Raymond, under the drawer?'

'Oh God,' she replied. 'Something small. Honestly I don’t know Bart. Sorry.'

There was something about the delay when she spoke. At least he thought that perhaps there was a delay. He wasn't entirely sure he believed her.

‘I can tell you where you might find him, though. I’ll text you.’

'Lola,' he said. He tried to fix her with a gaze that she avoided. 'Do you have any ideas about why Zack would want to disappear?'

For a moment she almost winced.

'Everybody wants to disappear sometimes,' she said. 'He sent me a text you know, just after he left. What? Five days ago?' 

She held her phone out for him to see. The text said:

[Keeping a low profile for a while. I'll be in touch, babe. Zack. Xx]

There was a string of text messages after that one. All from Lola. None of them had a response.

'At the end of the day,' she continued, 'who knows why Zack does anything?' She smiled, a big, bright beautiful smile. 'It's part of his charm I suppose.'