Minnie didn’t sleep well. Gran snored a little bit, but it wasn’t that. It was the snappy, crotchety way that Mum and Dad had talked to each other. They were never, ever like that. As she lay in the dark staring up at the chewing-gum grey ceiling, Minnie knew the criminals were to blame. Gran didn’t feel safe, so she couldn’t feel comfortable. And because Gran wasn’t comfortable, Mum and Dad were arguing. Well, no criminal gang was going to upset her gran and get away with it.
She had to talk to Piotr.
She got up early on Tuesday morning and dressed quietly. At the kitchen table, she swallowed her cereal almost in one gulp, rinsed the bowl and left a note for Mum and Dad.
Outside, the market traders were beginning to set up: carts rumbled into position, awnings swayed into place, goods arrived from vans and car boots. Most people had a friendly ‘Morning!’ for her as she walked through.
Piotr lived in the same block of flats as Andrew, at the far end of Marsh Road, beyond the market. She took the lift up to the fifth floor and rapped on his front door.
Piotr’s mum answered. She was carrying his little sister, Kasia. ‘Good morning, Minnie,’ she said. The ‘r’ in the middle of ‘morning’ rolled like trolley wheels on cobbles in Mrs Domek’s Polish accent. ‘Piotr is awake, I think. Go through.’
Piotr was, but he was still in his Superman pyjamas. His room was small, but less crammed with furniture than hers, so it felt bigger. He sat on his bed. She could see the comic he’d been reading tucked beneath the duvet like a teddy.
‘What’s up?’ he asked.
‘Mum and Dad,’ she said simply. ‘We have to find out what’s going on to save Mum and Dad.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They’re sniping at each other worse than me and Andrew. Worse than me and Sylvie!’
Piotr recoiled. ‘That’s bad. What do you need us to do?’
‘Did you get to the railway station yesterday? Was there a Left Luggage place? Are we on the right track?’
‘Yes, yes and I think so.’
‘Good. I think my family are depending on it.’
The railway station was at the top of the town. The tracks climbed up over arches, then ran behind the main shopping street until they reached the platforms of the old sandstone building. Trains shuttled past regularly, pushing through the air on their clattering journeys.
At 2.30 p.m., Flora was already there, waiting at the passenger drop-off point outside the main doors. She was wearing a pale lemon top with pale brown trousers. Minnie thought they might even be slacks. They made Minnie’s jeans from the market look tatty. She scowled and let Piotr and Andrew say the hellos.
‘No Sylvie today?’ Piotr asked.
Flora flushed a little, but just shook her head.
Minnie felt a prickle of discomfort. Guilt? No. She squished the thought immediately.
‘Any sign of Omar? Or Marcus?’ Piotr asked.
‘Omar, I expect,’ Andrew said hopefully, not ready to admit Marcus was up to no good.
‘Neither so far,’ Flora replied. ‘Lots of people in business suits and trainers queuing for coffee, but that’s about it.’
There were lots of people at the station – women on phones, men carrying briefcases, all ignoring each other, like ants in an anthill.
‘Left Luggage is inside,’ Piotr said.
The station was big, with six platforms beyond the ticket barrier. The main concourse was breezy, with a glass ceiling high above their heads and pigeons patrolling the area, searching out unauthorised crisps and pecking them into submission.
The ticket office was on one side, along with a tourist information booth. The other side of the concourse had coffee bars and news-stands and was more crowded.
‘This way,’ Piotr said. He led them away from the bustle of people staring up at departure boards. They passed the ticket office and information booth, and with the main concourse behind them they were getting closer to a smaller, side entrance to the station. Black tape had been stuck to the tiled floor to show the way out. Their footsteps echoed on the white tiles and the sound bounced back off the glass roof. There were fewer people in this part of the station.
The Left Luggage office was just before the side entrance.
‘I want to see locker 3,’ Minnie said to Piotr.
She could still just about make out the departures board, black panels with the destinations glowing orange. The time, like a retro digital watch, ticked above the town names: 14:38.
‘Let’s take a look,’ Piotr said. ‘But we have to be quick. Whoever the hidden message was for, they’ll be here any minute.’
Andrew and Flora stood on guard outside, while Piotr and Minnie went in. Left Luggage was a small room lined with lockers, a bit like a leisure centre changing room but without the smell of sweat and socks. Some lockers had keys hanging in the doors, others were shut with the keys missing. They were all a shade of beige; the walls were beige too. It wasn’t a room anyone would want to spend time in. Each locker was numbered. Minnie found locker number 3. It was locked tight, with the key missing. She rattled the door, but it didn’t open.
Whatever was inside was important enough to commit a break-in for, to use a child messenger, to frighten Gran and set her parents fighting.
She had to know what was worth all that.
‘We need to find somewhere to keep watch,’ Minnie said.
Back outside, Andrew was facing the distant concourse; Flora was facing the side entrance. They both turned as Minnie and Piotr joined them. ‘No sign of Omar yet,’ Andrew said.
‘Nor of Marcus,’ Flora added.
‘We’ll stake out the Left Luggage,’ Minnie said, ‘but we can’t just stand here in a big group, we’re really noticeable.’ They were the only group at the station without a harassed-looking adult counting heads.
‘Trainspotting,’ Flora said.
‘What?’ Andrew wasn’t the only one who was confused.
‘Trainspotting. I brought us all a notebook and pencil. If anyone asks, we’re looking out for a rare engine that’s due to pass through later today. We can split up and keep an eye out for Omar or Marcus. One of us should stay near the Left Luggage at all times.’
‘Great,’ Andrew said, taking his notebook. ‘I love trains. If I wasn’t going to be a global superstar when I grow up, I’d be a train driver.’
Minnie and Piotr took theirs too.
‘Trainspotters usually stand at the ends of platforms,’ Flora said, ‘but anywhere you can see the tracks is good. Andrew, come with me, we’ll watch the main entrance to the station.’
Flora and Andrew set off towards the open concourse with their notebooks open.
Minnie wanted to stay close to Left Luggage. A section of the walkway had been fenced off by a cordon of orange plastic barriers, there was some kind of maintenance work going on. It caught her attention. It was far enough from the Left Luggage office that anyone visiting the lockers might not notice it, but close enough that it still had a clear view of the door. She crept closer to the barriers and a big Health and Safety notice: NO HARD HAT, NO JOB. No workers around. Good. No one looking in their direction. Perfect. Minnie vaulted the barrier, crouched behind the big sign and shuffled up to let Piotr in too.
They waited.
The clock flashed the minutes. Time seemed to slow right down. Minnie was getting cramp in her leg from being so hunched up.
They watched the side entrance for Marcus, for Omar. Which one of them was at the heart of this?
Then Piotr gasped. Minnie felt him freeze beside her. She realised why.
Two people sauntered through the side entrance. Two people were approaching Left Luggage.
Minnie didn’t dare move a muscle. Hardly dared breathe.
Omar and Marcus might see.
They were both here, walking side by side.
They were both criminals.