16 – BLACK-BALLED

The next day, Spock and I idle outside Crazy 8s. It's another scorching hot day, not the sort of day to be out tailing murder suspects but I've waited as long as I can.

'Come on, Max. Where are you?' I mutter.

I look around to make sure no one is coming then close my eyes tight and fold my hands into fists. It worked when I was trying to summon Holly in my garden, hadn't it?

I try to will Max to appear, but when I open my eyes, it's still stinking hot and the sun is blindingly bright and Max is nowhere to be seen.

'Well, we're just going to have to do it ourselves, aren't we?' I say to Spock.

Spock looks sideways in uncertainly and wags his tail. I like his attitude – when unsure, just say yes.

'Come on then,' I say and lead him over to Crazy 8s entrance.

Inside it's contrastingly dark and the peroxide blonde in the ticket booth gives me a bored look.

'Member or non-member?' she asks, not moving her chin from her cupped hand holding it up.

'Um – non-member, but I –'

'Two pounds then – hey, no dogs allowed inside,' she says, spotting Spock and for the first time showing some animation to her face.

'Actually, I don't really need to go in.' I give her an awkward smile, try to get her onside. 'You see, I was wondering if maybe you could help me with something.'

The ticket girl frowns at me. 'Like what?'

I dig out a blown up picture of Dylan which I cropped from the Sharp Shooters image and hold it up for her to see. 'Do you know this guy?'

The ticket girl looks at the photo pressed up against the glass then gives me a wary glance. 'That depends on who's asking?'

'A friend.'

'Well, then,' she says, sitting back on her stool and crossing her arms, 'any friend shouldn't have to go snooping behind his back to find out what he gets up to.'

I inwardly cringe. This is not going how I'd hoped. 'Okay, maybe not a friend as such,' I concede. 'But I'm a friend of a friend.'

The ticket girl continues to look unbelieving.

As a last resort I sigh and pull out the photo of Holly and Emilie. 'I'm her friend, okay?' I say, holding it up for her to see and tapping Holly's image. 'Have you seen her lately?'

The ticket girl appears unmoved, only going so far as to shrug. 'It's the summer holidays. People go away.'

'Well, she hasn't gone on any holiday, I can assure you,' I say, my patience at her insolence waning. 'Look, please, it's really important that you help me. Do you recognise this guy?'

I hold up Dylan's photo again and she shakes her head.

'Nah, sorry, don't think so.'

I narrow my eyes at her. Her expression remains so unmoving, it's impossible to tell if she's lying or not. She shifts under my scrutiny.

'Of course, lots of people come through these doors,' she says, 'but I don't remember him. What's the story with them?'

I've already stopped listening. If I can't rely on this girl's word, I'll have to tail Dylan. But would tailing him do any good? Would he lead me to Holly's body if he is the one responsible for her death? I could really do with Max's help right now.

'Hey,' says the ticket girl, 'I said what's the story with these two?'

'Nothing,' I say, distracted. 'I just needed – you've been great, really helpful. Thanks. I've got to go.'

I step out into the sunshine with a heavy heart. I chew my lip in deliberation, trying to decide what my next move should be. Maybe I should tail Dylan some more, find out who his friends are, ask them if he's a regular at the snooker hall.

I walk past the large curtained front windows of Crazy 8s over to the bicycle rack down the side. But as I do so, I spot the reflection of Jonathan in the glass, coming out of the side alley.

Not thinking twice, I grab Spock and dive for the nearest cover – an electricity box and a rubbish bin to the far left of the building. It's difficult to tell which hums more. Holding Spock quiet against me, I peep through the gap between the box and the bin at Jonathan strolling towards Crazy 8s. Doesn't he overheat in that black leather jacket?

He looks cool enough, casual with his hands tucked into his pockets.

Spock also spots him and tries to wriggle free, tail slapping against me. He gives a small whuff and I clamp my hand down over his muzzle. Spock growls at my restraint and I cringe.

Jonathan pauses outside the doors to listen.

I hold my breath. I've no clue how I'll talk my way out of this one. Thankfully, Spock stays silent long enough for Jonathan to disappear inside.

'Spock!' I exclaim, once he's out of earshot. 'Come on! I'm not going to take you with me in future if you're going to blow my cover each time.'

Spock looks embarrassed and I immediately feel bad for scolding him. I get halfway to my feet when Jonathan suddenly reappears at the entrance, breathing heavily, his eyes darting around.

I collapse into my hiding spot again and peep through the gap. My position is only in his peripheral vision so he doesn't notice me. He looks panicked, a far cry from the relaxed demeanour he had seconds earlier.

Jonathan takes out his phone and dials as he strides away from Crazy 8s. I strain to catch his words.

'Hey, man. We've got a problem.' In the quiet of this unknown corner of Cambridge, his voice is loud and clear. But who is he speaking to? There is a pause as he waits for the other person to respond. 'A problem with – with – you know what with! Someone's been around Crazy 8s asking questions…' Another pause. 'The same girl by the sounds of things… yeah, you know the one… I don't know! Ronnie just said she'd shown her your photo. She lied, told this girl she didn't know who you were…'

I sit back in shock and almost lose my grip on Spock's collar.

'Look, meet me over at the hide as soon as you can,' says Jonathan. 'Well, do you have any better ideas?'

He hangs up and walks away, his boots crunching over the loose stones on the tarmac in double quick time. In seconds, he's out of sight. I realise I must make a hasty departure too. I can't stick around here. All I know is the only person Jonathan could have been talking to on the phone is Dylan.

I pace about my bedroom, sweating anxiously. I'd lost Jonathan barely a minute into the tail. I need Max! I can't tail Jonathan or Dylan without him; not just that, though, I hate to admit it, but he does bolster my confidence when he's around. Even though others don't know he's there, I know, and that's what makes the difference.

Where is he? He's never stayed away this long, and he's never not come when I've needed him. He's meant to be my guide, so why isn't he here, guiding me? I'm forced to concede that maybe Max isn't such a bad guide after all. And I hate to say it, but even though he can be a royal pain in the butt sometimes, I do miss his company.

Spock lies on the Aztec rug by my bed, muzzle on paws, and watches me with an anxious frown. I give him an apologetic look and close my eyes tight. I clench my fists, my bitten nails digging into my palms, and will Max to appear with all my being.

Max doesn't oblige.

I sit down with humph and bend down to stroke Spock's ears. 'Why won't he come?' I whisper.

Deep down I think I know. I've gotten Max into so much trouble lately, maybe the wisers have grounded him or something. I don't know how it's possible to 'ground' a spirit but I assume they have their ways. Or…

I stop breathing at the thought.

Or it could also be because I got Genie Ackroyd's message wrong. But I can't see how I got it wrong. I'm sure I relayed the message just as Freda had said it. Maybe it had been because she'd had rather a strong country accent that I misheard some of it. But I don't see how. Freda had told me where to find the keys and the map then she'd said they led to a shelter she and her husband had used for birdwatching and in the hope of seeing the fabled Fen tiger.

I pull a face and stare up at the ceiling in frustration. I'm sure that was all the message had been. But there's only one way to truly find out, and if this is the reason why Max can't visit me anymore, I'm going to sort this out once and for all.

Copyright © H.R. Aidan, 2016